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#EMCO Tech Heating & Cooling#Emergency Maintenance Company#HVAC contractor#2424 Wyandotte Rd#customer satisfaction#well-maintained HVAC system#comfort#highly-skilled technicians#heating repair#gas furnace repair#HVAC maintenance#HVAC installation#prompt service#customized solutions#routine maintenance#emergency repair#new installation#service area#Montgomery County locations#Willow Grove office.#Youtube
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the villain: you can either do as I say while letting the whole world believe you’re a big bully, or I give everyone a copy of the key to your castle. Your choice.
#this is not about world politics#not about concentration of highly skilled technicians with unprecedented access to things they helped built#not about big guy actually turning into the smallest man who ever lived#…or is it?#the book I probably won’t write#building a new castle eh?
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Scars and Memories
CW: Self harm, Scarification
There’s a ritual among certain groups of Mech pilots. Usually ones who are a bit more, esoteric. Pilots who’ve maybe spent too much time in the cockpit, but are too skilled for command to remove them from duty.
It’s a known fact that the more time a pilot spends in the cockpit, the more attached they become to their Mech. Each mech is practically tailor made for its pilot after all, with the hours upon hours of synchronization training that their IMP goes through. Swapping pilots between Mechs is not only unheard of, but almost impossible given how they work.
Pilots that fall into these groups are often so skilled and highly valued, that command assigns a units most skilled mechanics and technicians to their fireteams. This means that nearly every scratch that one of these Mechs receives on a sortie is repaired as quickly as possible, to keep the Mech in top shape for its next deployment.
Initially, the pilots hated this. Pilots have always held onto scars and scratches like badges of honor, marks to prove that they survived a particularly harsh engagement. But the boost to performance and mission success was such that command wouldn’t budge an inch. So the pilots pivoted to a different tactic.
The first time you saw it happen you almost called a paramedic, but then you noticed there was actually one standing by, and no one else in the hangar was paying it any mind.
The returning pilot was kneeling in front of their mech, combat knife dripping blood in their hands, carving the lines of the wounds their mech had taken into their own flesh.
There was a reverence to it. No one impeded on the pilots space, even the paramedic standing by was staying a few paces off. The mechanics were moving slow with the repairs, giving the pilot enough time to memorize the scars on their machine before they were buffed away.
You realized then why so many veteran pilots are covered in brutal and jagged scars, despite the cockpit being the most well protected part of a Mech.
And maybe on your next sortie, you carved a line into your skin where a stray round had nicked your machine.
The metal may heal, but the flesh remembers.
#mechposting#mech pilots#mecha#mechs#microfiction#empty spaces#scarification#ritual#writing#cybernetic dreams
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Traitor

Warnings: angstttt, betrayal, arguments, romantic tension, very stressful situations, lying, toxic Nat ngl, allusions to sex
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, Avengers x f!reader
A/N: Part 6 of my DIWK series! Summary: The truth always has a way of coming out- and todays the day
Fast forward four months
The wind blew fiercely against your window as you awoke, sensing an unusual tension in the air—a buzz, as if nature itself was angry. You fluffed your shaggy h/c hair and swung your tired legs out of the warm bed, extricating yourself from the comfortable embrace of a woman’s arm wrapped around your waist. Not just any woman, but Natasha Romanoff—the world’s greatest assassin, a highly skilled martial artist, and your girlfriend. Well, kind of. She didn’t want to label it, and you’d gotten used to that. Things with Wanda had fizzled out, and she was now one of your closest friends. Stability was slowly but surely creeping back into your life.
Just then, your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your morning trance. An encrypted message from Agent Hill: another file to drop off at the HYDRA data server and report back. No pleasantries, no reassurances. The anxiety that once clouded your mind about this operation had dissipated over the months. You had grown confident in your skills, so close to the finish line now. You just needed one more piece of information about a new serum they were developing—something about a super-soldier project. Deliver that, and you would be officially done with HYDRA, Samantha, and all the vile people who worked there. A free agent—literally.
You pulled the file from its folder, reviewing the intel they provided this time. Not bad, surprisingly.
You dressed slowly, your legs sore from prior activities with your “girlfriend.” Natasha’s sleeping form rustled in the sheets before settling, a gentle huff of breath escaping her lips.
At the base, you navigated the winding corridors, each step echoing louder than the last. The data server room was buried at the heart of the building, and each doorway you passed felt like a checkpoint in a prison. Fluorescent overhead lights buzzed, casting a stark, sterile glow that complemented the coldness of the place. Reaching the server room, you slid your ID across the panel, entering as the heavy door hissed shut behind you.
The space was mostly empty, save for the hum of servers and the dull glow of screens casting eerie shadows. A lone technician glanced up at you, nodding in acknowledgment. You were well-known by now—both for your envied operation and proximity to HYDRA’s high command.
You approached one of the terminals, connected your encrypted drive, and waited as it loaded the contents onto their system. But as you watched the file transfer, doubt crept in. How many more lies before they caught up with you? Were they already catching up, and maybe you didn’t know it?
The file finished transferring. You removed your drive, pocketing it quickly. Turning to leave, you caught the technician watching you from the corner of your eye, his gaze lingering a moment too long. You met his eyes and offered a quick nod, concealing the flicker of alarm you felt as he turned back to his work.
Returning to the compound that afternoon felt like a relief. As you stepped into your hall, orange shadows of the sun creeping in through the glass walls, the quiet was broken by a familiar voice.
“Back so soon?”
Natasha’s slid into your view like silk. She was leaning against the wall in the corridor, arms crossed, her expression unreadable—as per usual.
You tried to keep your face neutral, but her sharp gaze seemed to peel back every layer you’d carefully constructed. “Mission ended earlier than expected,” you replied.
She arched an eyebrow, gaze narrowing slightly. “Right. Just strange. Fury usually sends the rest of us a notice when someone’s out. And you leave me a note. Or text.”
“It was classified,” you shrugged, trying to deflect, hoping she wouldn’t probe further.
Natasha’s smirk softened, but her gaze didn’t waver. She stepped closer, her presence intense. “You’ve been slipping away a lot lately, honey,” she murmured, her tone low. “Everyone’s noticed.” Her beautiful green eyes bore into you, calculating your every expression.
There was no accusation in her words, only an edge of curiosity. But the weight of the lies began to press down, your chest tightening with the guilt you’d tried so hard to ignore. “It’s not like that, Nat,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
She reached out, her fingers grazing your arm—a touch that felt like both an anchor and a pull. “Then what’s it like?”
For a heartbeat, you wanted to tell her. Instead, you swallowed the words, your throat tightening. “You know how this job is, Tasha. It’s complicated.”
A flicker of something—hurt, maybe—crossed her face before she masked it, letting her hand fall away. She stepped back, crossing her arms again. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
She scoffed, “Doesn’t seem that way.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it.” You squeezed past her, accidentally bumping her shoulder as you did.
Her hand caught yours. “You know I can help, right? Whatever it is.”
You forced a half-smile, “Not this time, honey.”
Natasha held your gaze for a moment longer before nodding, though the air between you felt strained, taut with the things left unsaid. She turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the dim corridor, the weight of her words lingering.
You stared at the ceiling, Natasha’s words looping in your mind. Everyone’s noticed. You wondered if that included Wanda. The thought of her finding out, of her piecing together the truth, was terrifying. She’d already uncovered your family’s past—if she found out everything else…
You didn’t want to think about it.
About twice a week, Natasha would come and sleep in your room, especially after tough training days or a bad mission. Tonight? She didn’t so much as text you. Ouch.
The cold floors at 3 a.m. felt soothing as you walked to the kitchen to grab a drink, catching sight of Wanda curled up on the couch, staring out the window.
Her expression was unreadable.
“Wanda?” you asked, the surprise clear in your voice.
“I couldn’t sleep again,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze was intense, searching your face as though trying to read every unspoken thought.
You grabbed two juices from the fridge, crossing the room to sit beside her. For a moment, neither of you spoke; the silence was thick.
“It was two years yesterday that I held his,” she began, her voice hesitant. “I… I didn’t even remember.”
You glanced down, your hands twisting together as you gathered your thoughts. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to remind you, since you didn’t mention it.” Wanda adored her brother, and you adored her. You didn’t want to worsen her pain by adding a reminder.
Her hand reached out, covering yours, her touch warm and steady. “I visited his grave earlier,” she swallowed, “left a small baby’s breath bouquet.” “It’s always only one bouquet, but today when I visited him- there were already flowers there.”
You didn’t know if you should also mention that you left flowers, but when you looked up, Wanda’s eyes were already staring into yours. Her gaze softened, and you felt the pull again, that magnetic connection that made your friendship feel impossible sometimes.
“Wanda…”
She gingerly brushed a strand of hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear.
“Now your hair is perfect.”
“It’s always perfect, witchy.”
Her cheeky white smile glowed in the darkness.
The next few days most of your training was done with Peter, Clint, or Steve, completely ruling out the possibility of any more relationship messiness. The tension with Natasha, the fragileness you held with Wanda—it was all starting to pull at the threads of your mind once again.
You will never forget that day. That was the day your life changed forever. You often think of what might’ve been, if you hadn’t joined the avengers and all. Just stayed as a high level SHIELD agent.
Maybe it all would’ve been fine, if not for that Thursday. That stupid fucking Thursday. And for Nick Fury. But you didn’t know all that yet.
You swiftly moved through the hallways on your way to meet Bruce in the lab, your mind elsewhere, when a familiar rasp called your name.
“Y/N.”
You turned to see Natasha, her gaze sharp, expression unreadable. She nodded toward one of the empty conference rooms. “We need to talk.”
You followed her inside, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. You felt like a little kid in trouble with the principal. When the door shut, she turned to you, her arms crossed, her stance tense.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her tone steady but laced with frustration.
Your heart pounded, every instinct screaming to deflect, to lie. But standing there, facing Natasha’s intense gaze, the walls you’d built felt paper-thin.
“I…No.”
She took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. “Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on, but I will find out.”
The intensity in her gaze, the determination, left you breathless. She was offering you an out, a lifeline, but taking it would mean unraveling everything. You were practically at the finish line.
Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the compound’s alarm blared, cutting through the tension. Natasha’s gaze flickered to the door, her expression shifting to frustration.
“Of course,” she muttered, looking back to you.
She turned and left the room, leaving you standing there, your chest tight and burning.
The mission had been going well until you were cornered in a tight hallway by a mercenary, his face hidden by a tactical helmet and wielding a blade that gleamed under the dim light. You threw up an arm to block his initial swing, but he was relentless, landing a hit to your side that knocked the breath from you. Blood trickled from a cut on your arm, but you pushed through, angling for a counterattack.
Before you could make another move, a blast of red energy hit from behind, sending the attacker flying into a wall. Surprised, you turned to see Wanda, her hands crackling with energy. She stepped between you and the mercenary, red tendrils floating around his head before he fainted.
“Thought you might need a hand,” she said, her tone light, but her eyes betrayed the worry simmering beneath.
You forced a smile, though your pride ached at her interference. “I had it under control.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push it. She held your gaze a moment longer, “Sure you did, L/N.”
Before you could answer, Natasha’s voice crackled through the comms. “Y/N, Wanda—stop messing around and regroup. Now.”
Her tone was clipped, cold, and even through the comms, you could feel the chill.
You two shared a quick, slightly guilty glance before moving back to rejoin the others. Throughout the rest of the mission, Natasha barely looked at you, and when she did, her expression was hardened, her gaze flicking quickly between you and Wanda with a disapproving edge.
Back at the compound, you found Natasha in the common area, gathering her gear with sharp, precise movements. You hovered nearby, hoping to talk, to get a hint of what was going on, but she barely acknowledged you.
“Nat,” you started, your voice soft.
“What?” Her tone was harsh, her eyes narrowing. “Something you need?”
You faltered, caught off guard by the bite in her voice. “I… I just wanted to check if you were okay.”
She scoffed, a cold smirk pulling at her lips. “That’s rich. Last I saw, you were the one who needed backup. I didn’t realize Wanda was your personal rescuer.”
The words hit like a slap, the sting of her jealousy clear. You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off, grabbing her bag and shouldering it without a glance in your direction. You tried to lighten the mood, “A little jealous, Romanoff?” Although you were teasing, the joke came out so soft, genuine. You gently touched the small of her back, gazing at her with worried eyes.
“Let’s not pretend this is anything more than a job, Y/N,” she said, voice low and unyielding- she shifted out of your touch. “That way, you won’t get distracted.”
“I think we should continue our conversation from earlier-,” you were cut off before you finished your sentence
“And what if I don’t want to talk? Ever thought about that?”
“Earlier you said you were here for me, that I’m not alone. I don’t understand, you know I care about you. Just talk to me-,” you hadn’t anticipated the crack in your voice at the end, catching Natasha’s attention, but of course, only for a second.
She packed her bag faster.
“Natasha please-”
“Enough!” Her loud voice bounced off the walls.
“So what are we then? We sleep together, we share a bed, you care about me- I know you do. So what is this?”
Natashas jaw clenched, and when her eyes looked at you, they held something you’d never seen, “It’s just sex, Y/N. Grow up. It’s what adults do.”
She rushed past you, shoulder bumping yours, leaving you standing there. Wounded and more confused than ever- the Romanov specialty.
As you entered a new log into your journal that night, spilling your heart about HYDRA, Wanda, Natasha, a knock sounded on your door. For once, you just wanted to be left alone. You threw the journal under the covers, running to the bathroom.
You poked your head out of the door, “In the shower, can’t talk!” You hoped it was loud enough for whatever guest to go away. It wasn’t.
As the scent of vanilla and citrus soap slid down your skin, rubbing any grime away and relaxing your muscles, Wanda walked into your room. She figured she’d just wait to talk with you once you got out of the shower, plopping herself down on your bed. However, as soon as she sat, something hard and stiff was felt under her, something very uncomfortable. Wanda slightly lifted herself off of the bed, blindly moving her hand around for the stiff object- finding a small journal. It was a dark red, canvas cover. Your initials were etched into the bottom right corner.
As you stepped out of the bathroom, the sight of Wanda sitting on the edge of your bed, her hands trembling, sent a chill down your spine. Your journal lay face down on the floor, its secrets exposed. Droplets from your wet hair trickled down your back, the cold seeping through your pajamas and onto the wooden floor. The room was thick with silence.
Wanda’s eyes, wide and glistening, locked onto yours. Her voice, barely above a whisper, broke the tension. “How long?” The weight of her question pressed heavily upon you.
Your heart raced, each beat echoing in your ears. The walls seemed to close in, the air growing thin. You opened your mouth, searching for words, but found none.
Wanda’s gaze hardened, a mixture of hurt and betrayal evident. “All this time… ” Her voice cracked, the pain palpable.
You took a tentative step forward, hands outstretched in a plea. “Wanda, I can explain—”
But she recoiled, as if your very presence burned. “Explain? How can you possibly explain this?” She gestured towards the fallen journal, her movements sharp and erratic, “It’s you. You’re the traitor, you’re the mole,” she glared at you accusingly. The red glow in her eyes grew with each second.
Desperation clawed at you. “I was told to lie. Ask Fury he put me—”
“Fury? Are you serious?” she interrupted, her tone dripping with disdain. “Was any of it real? Or was I just another pawn?”
You shook your head vehemently, “No, Wanda, you have to believe me. My feelings for all of you are genuine.”
She stood abruptly, red wisps crackling from her fingers, “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Before you could utter another word, the door swung open with a resounding thud. Natasha stood in the doorway, her face a mask of cold fury. Behind her, Steve and Tony loomed, their expressions grim. Natasha’s voice was icy, each word laced with venom. “Is it true? Have you been feeding information to HYDRA?”
Your knees threatened to buckle under the weight of their collective gaze. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand upright. “It’s not what it seems. I was working undercover, on Fury’s orders. I was a SHIELD agent before an Avenger, you guys know this.”
Tony scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Convenient excuse. Got any proof?”
You reached into your pocket, fingers trembling, and producing your phone. “Call him! Ask him. Fury will tell you everything, promise.”
Steve stepped forward, grabbing your phone out of your hand- crushing it. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, were now cold and distant. “Your promises mean nothing to us anymore, Agent.”
Tony stepped further into the room, all of them cornering you, “Besides, Fury’s off grid with Maria. We just got the call.” He sucked his teeth, “But if you two worked as closely as you say, you would’ve known before us.” The bite in Tony’s words wasn't missed.
Fuck.
As they turned to leave, you dove for your notebook on the ground, picking it up and practically shoving it toward Steve, “This! Read this!” ragged breaths left your mouth, “everything that’s been going on is in it. From the first day.”
Steve glanced at you warily, looking back at Natasha, “Can we trust this?”
The redhead’s gaze toward you was icy, completely void of emotion. Your eyes pleaded with her. She didn’t care.
“Absolutely not.”
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff#natasha x reader#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#avengers x reader#avengers x fem!reader#marvel fic#Natasha Romanoff#Wanda Maximoff
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Sanguine Sky
DEMO [Public] [Updated 07/12/2024] genres: romance, modern-fantasy, supernatural, mystery, dark-fantasy.
Sanguine Sky is a work-in-progress modern dark-fantasy interactive novel. The story is heavily focused on romance, characters, and relationships.
The story rated 18+, contains mature and distressing content that may be triggering to certain individuals. It is recommend to check the full list of warnings before you proceed to the story. Please exercise caution and take care of yourself.
Word count:
Public DEMO: 197k words [excl. code] | 227k words [incl. code]. Patreon DEMO: 280k words [excl. code] | 311k words [incl. code].
You are a detective, tasked with investigating mysterious murders that have taken place in your normally quiet and peaceful hometown, Fallenmor.
With two victims confirmed already, the initial one being your former mentor, Detective Bergmann, the situation couldn't seem more dire. Or so you thought until you received the news of another body, a possible third victim, discovered at the police station. In your very own office.
An accident, a mere coincidence, a straightforward warning, a looming threat, or something entirely else… Whatever is happening, you feel it affecting you, awakening something both significantly familiar and distinctly foreign inside of you.
If only you knew that this was just the beginning… Things could have been different.
But back then, in your ignorance, your singular concern lay with a pressing question: if you failed to find the murderer, who would become the next victim?
➤ Play as male, female, non-binary or trans; straight, gay, or bisexual.
➤ Customize your appearance and shape your personality.
➤ Take on the role of a detective, immerse yourself in the work of the police station.
➤ Embrace the mystery of your existence, or reject that inner sight of you.
➤ Seven romance options to choose from. Select their gender, be assertive or reserved, or focus on your goal without pursuing anyone.
All ROs are player-sexual and gender-selectable [M/F].
Kyle / Keira Moreno
Your colleague, a police inspector, and one of the rudest people you have ever met. Sharp and stern, K is surprisingly perceptive, and they use it to really see you. The good, the bad. Everything. Appearance: icy blue eyes, dark red hair, very pale skin.
Alexis 'Lex / Lexie' Conlan
Your best friend, and also your former partner from times when you were just a patrol officer. With a heart of gold and an approachable attitude, L always chooses you over the others. Appearance: forest green eyes, copper hair, beige freckled skin.
Morgan Schoivell
Your other colleague, a highly-skilled lab technician. M is rather reserved when it comes to emotions, and after almost a year of working together, M is still a walking mystery for you. Appearance: dark brown eyes, ash blond hair, light skin.
Roderick / Rebecca Reyes
The commanding agent of the Criminal Investigative Division (CID) team sent to catch the killer. Overbearing and ruthless, R has their own way of getting things done. Appearance: gray eyes, blond hair, pale skin.
Theodore 'Theo' / Theresa 'Tess' Vazquez
Another member of the CID team. With a cocky smile, T is full of flirts and sneering comments, regardless of the occasion. T has no doubts about what they want and isn't afraid to vocalize it. Appearance: dark green eyes, black curly hair, rich brown skin.
Isaac / Iris Brailsford
I looks the most mature and approachable of CID's fellow agents. Looks can be deceiving, though. Working behind the scene and watching from afar, I carries all the scars within. Appearance: hazel eyes, dark brown hair, olive skin.
Sebastian / Selena Goldstein
Someone new and temporary, S has a velvety voice and a perfect smile that doesn't reach their eyes. You're not sure if your paths will cross in the future, but something tells you S can't be trusted. Appearance: black eyes, long black wavy hair, bronze skin.
Other notable characters:
Your twin-sister: Your sweet, kind, caring, and gentle twin sister. She always tries to be there for you, and show how much she appreciates you, no matter what. Chief of Police, Kendrick Nash: Your boss, who is not handling his job so well after the recent death of his husband, Klemens Bergmann. Detective Klemens Bergmann: Police chief's husband, who happened to be a senior detective and your mentor. He was the first victim, murdered under mysterious circumstances.
A full list of warnings is available in the demo before beginning of the story. I recommend to check it before you proceed to reading.
Links: DEMO | CoG Forum | Q&A | Romance | Tags & Links | Patreon | Ko-Fi | Error Reports |
Thank you for your interest ♥
#interactive fiction#interactive novel#choicescript#dashingdon#choice of games#hosted games#sanguine sky#sanguine sky if#if: intro#if: wip#romance#supernatural#dark fantasy#modern fantasy#mystery#cyoa#if intro#if wip#ss about
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When I watch Ann Reardon I feel like Spiderman telling Sauron "you can rewrite DNA & chose to make people into dinosaurs?" Cuz what do you mean she made chocolate iridescent by making it have grooves fine enough to reflect light just right, & now she just invented a 3d printer that prints chocolate while having literally no experience in the 3d printing scene.. Industrial machinery technicians in her comments in disbelief that this is the first time Anne handled machinery like this, and that she is more skilled than their peers. Is so crazy to me lmao. I love her so much.
slightly related but I love these kinds of Characters- where they are highly specialized at niche and esoteric fields but use that knowledge for completely silly reasons. I have an oc who can speak a complicated dormant language and all she does is translate cultural ancient yuri into a centralized language. Like imagine if mesopotamian poets wrote proto fanfic of Enkidu and Gilgamesh. And only assyriologist fujoshim were willing to translate hahaha.
MKDEV being one of the few people (like one of two afaik) who can crack denuvo and he only uses his knowledge to crack football manager games. Insane stuff. Iirc mkdev retired last year too. The only other person who can crack denuvo is like a Russian terf.
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Beneath The Sheets, Beyond The Mission || Ethan Hunt x Reader
Summary: After a rough and tiring mission, you try to kick back and relax in bed, and Ethan Hunt only makes it harder and easier at the same time...
Genre: Slow-Burn, Fluff, **Not Knowing what to watch on TV**
Author's Note: Hi^^, this is my first fanfic based on this request. Please excuse my English ToT. Hope you enjoy!
It had been a rough week on the mission, the usual finding and diffusing bombs, saving the world kind of thing. You always found it funny how sometimes you realise, you're out here, preventing a city from exploding into pieces, and no one acknowledges it. Just as the IMF says, " We live and die in the shadows, for those we hold close, and for those we will never meet."
So, when you get a free Sunday, it has not been in your dictionary to skip a day of relaxing ever since you joined the IMF.
You were in one of the Safehouses the IMF arranged for you and your teammates, Ethan Hunt: The HIGHLY skilled field agent, and Benji Dunn: The technician and computer pro, in San Francisco.
You got out of bed, the floor under you creaking as you step foot on it. You slept in one room while Ethan and Benji shared the other bedroom. Heading towards the window, you open the curtains and look out at the bright day. It felt extremely pleasant to see a beautiful and bright city, and not a broken-down, dull atmosphere.
You then go to check in on the boys. You have never really been in their room, not while they were asleep at least. It was a little dim compared to yours, but just as cozy. Benji slept down on the floor, on a spreadsheet and blankets. Ethan was sleeping on the single bed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes shut tight, sleeves rolled up. His eyebrows were furrowed, and even while asleep, he looked just as good and just as on guard as any other time. His jaw clenched, he opened his eyes slightly and seemed to see you, and so he got up with a jolt, looking rather worried.
" Is everything alright?" he asked, and you could feel the genuine concern in his voice. You blushed as he ran a hand through his hair. 'God!, Why does he always look so good even if he woke up just now? You thought to yourself, hoping that the crimson on your face did not show up due to the dim light.
" Everything all right, Ethan. I just -uhh- came in here to see if -uhh- there's a pen lying around." You lied, stuttering over your own words. He nodded and pointed towards a pen lying on the desk. You walked around Benji, grabbed the pen, said a quick " Thank you," and headed back towards your room.
This had not been the first time you blushed or found Ethan attractive. It was a daily routine for you. And hell, you'd be lying if you that that you didn't get lost in his green eyes many times. Your stomach did a weird flip every time you thought about him. 'Just forget about it,' said a tiny voice in your head. You nodded, took a towel from the dresser, and ran into the bathroom for a shower.
A shower was all you needed to get the day started. As you stood under the shower, thoughts of just sitting on the bed, watching TV, with Ethan sitting beside you- wait, what? Anyway, it filled u with excitement. So much excitement that your body gave a little shudder.
Finishing your shower, you got dressed in a t-shirt and trousers. You came out of the room and saw Ethan sitting on the couch. He seems to be so focused on the wall, as if he zoned out. He probably did zone out . So you went in front of him. "Ethan..., Ethan!" you called while waving your hand in front of his face. He seemed to snap back to reality as he gave you a wide smile. You smile back, palms sweating for some reason only known to god.
" I'm about to make breakfast, do you want some?" you offered. "No thanks. Can I get a cup of coffee, though?" he asks. You nod and immediately go to the kitchen, making breakfast for yourself and Benji. As you finished preparing breakfast, you felt a puff of hot breath on the nape of your neck.
You turned your head and saw from over your shoulder, Ethan standing behind you, reaching for the cabinets on top and taking a cup from them. He handed it over to you as he came to your side and sat on the kitchen counter. You were actually surprised he did that. Never thought Ethan Hunt would be sitting on a Kitchen counter, but you're not complaining. You let out a chuckle as he tries to turn on the coffee machine but fails at it, miserably, if I may add.
You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and show him how it's actually turned on, little did you know, he's just staring mindlessly at you, eyes glistening as you still continue laughing at his previous action.
You hand him the finished coffee, blushing as his fingers brushed yours as you handed it to him. You went into Benji and Ethan's room, woke Benji upand gave him breakfast. He thanked you and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. You, however, went back into your room, turned on the television, and scrolled through Netflix to find something to watch, simultaneously eating your breakfast.
You haven't felt this relaxed in months. You closed your eyes to embrace the moment. Then a hand tapped on your shoulder, which obviously, being the agent you are, startled you. You looked up to see Ethan staring down at you.
"You could have called me, Hunt!" you exclaimed. He looked dramatically taken aback by the use of his last name, by you, but he then laughed, lightening the mood. " Can I use your bathroom?" he asked, voice soft, calm, and gentle. "Benji has been hoarding the bathroom for 20 minutes now!" He said loud enough that Benji could hear him in the other room. " I'm bathing, okay! Shut up!" Benji shouted, and you laughed, so did Ethan.
"Sure." You said, pointing your hand towards the washroom. He nodded as a thanks and headed in. You could hear the shower turn on and something fall. He probably knocked down a bottle from the shelf. Your head filled with thoughts of him in the shower, hair wet and body steaming. You immediately shook off the thoughts as he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping wet, his abs better than you imagined. You threw a towel at him, yelling, "Cover up, Ethan!" trying to hide your blush with a hand on your face. He chuckled as he went out of the room to get dressed.
You had been hoping he'd come back, and he did just that.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, pointing to the mattress beside you
"Not at all," I replied, as the mattress next to you sank, although closer than you expected.
"So, what are you watching?" he asked
"To be honest, I don't know." you said as you turned your head to look into his now light green eyes as the sunlight from your window made them shine. They mesmerised you. Sadly, he did not know that, he couldn't know that. Relationships in this field of work were always discouraged; you knew that. But something in your heart wanted a big hug and a peck from him on your cheek.
Ethan, well, he was the IMF's Gem, the last person you would find breaking rules.
He looks at you like he has never seen you like this before, all messed up and relaxed at the same time. He knows it's love, but will he move towards it? He does not know.
You gently, yet hesitantly, place your head on his shoulder. At this action, his heart starts pounding more than ever. He felt you could hear it... which he wasn't wrong. You then lifted your head and put your chin on his shoulder in order to look up at his face. His perfect and sharp jawline, you swore, could take out anybody if hit with it.
He then turned his head towards you, you were taking in all his beauty, and so was he. You blushed so much, but it didn't matter anymore; you could see him blush too.
Without a second thought, he crashed his lips onto you, which took you by surprise for the first 5 seconds, but then you took it in. His hand came onto your waist, your hand onto his cheek. The kiss felt just right, not needy or desperate, just right.
He then broke off the kiss and looked into your eyes.
"You know this is extremely risky, right y/n?"
"I know, I always felt safe with you, Ethan. And I know that being like this with you will make me feel safer than before," you said looking down a feeling of a guilty pleasure building up inside you.
He lifted your head up with his thumb and index finger."I'm glad you feel that way, y/n. I like you since the beginning, I just never dared to tell you."
" Well, you're here now Ethan" you said scooting closer towards him and rested you head on his shoulder wrapping your arms around him as he wrapped his arms around your waist and resting his head on yours ,kissing your head.
You put up a movie,but then fell asleep on Ethan's chest,and he didn't let go of you the whole time.
When you woke up,you were greeted by a "sleep well ,sweetheart?"
You grinned stupidly, knowing that the love of your life was all yours, and with him by your side, you were as safe and happy as ever.
-----------------------TAGLIST----------------------
@frickyeahfanfic, @marzzrambles
#ethan hunt x reader#ethan hunt#ethan hunt x you#mission impossible the final reckoning#tom cruise#slow burn#fluff#Ethan huntxyn
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The most frustrating thing to me about the increasingly popular trend of depicting the Abyssal Hunters as a nuclear family, of a husband and wife Ulpianus and Gladiia with their two children, is that
Gladiia and Skadi are roughly the same age.
Gladiia was described as a "young Consul" in Specter the Unchained's module at the time that Laurentina became an Abyssal Hunter. From her own module, though we don't know her exact age at the time, she became an Abyssal Hunter very shortly after obtaining independence from her mother.
Skadi, meanwhile, was not a child soldier. In Path of Life, we learn that she was in fact a highly-skilled technician prior to becoming an Abyssal Hunter, skilled at her job in a way none of the other technicians could quite emulate.
Ulpianus is certainly older than both of them. He was the first Abyssal Hunter, and was already an established and renowned scientist by the time he became one. But if he's older than Skadi to a degree where he can see this woman in her 30s as a daughter, then why the fuck would he see a woman Gladiia's age as a romantic partner?
#arknights#gladiia#skadi#ulpianus#abyssal hunters#This trend either infantilizes the other Abyssal Hunters or it makes Gladiia out to be older than she is.#Or both. Frequently both.#ak text
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Potential Fantasy Jobs!
If you don't want to use the same stereotypical Generic Fantasy Land jobs to center your stories around, stay here! I'm going to be adding to this as ideas come to me!
A) Ritual Salter-And-Burner
The country that this character lives in is highly rituatlistic about how to pay proper ceremony to the dead as it is believed that if these steps aren't performed then the dead will be forced to stay on Earth and won't be able to complete the cycle.
However, what if a person dies in rather hard-to-reach place such as the tallest mountains that are almost entirely uninhabitable? Or in a different country? Or isn't strictly dead but "missing"? Or is stuck in something a bit more private than a military/boarding school?
That's were Salt-Burners come in! While there are different types of Salters, the entire occupation is about finding and performing the proper rites and rituals that, for some reason, the typical workers can't.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in specific, hard-to-traverse places such as the mountains or caves.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in fighting the legal battles where family members may not be able to.
There are Salt-Burners who specialize in finding not-comfirmed dead bodies such as in cases of missing people or people whose bodies weren't found. This can be through investigation, spying, and/or surveillance
B) Species Conservationist
This occupation is designed to protect the land for the purposes of being used by fantasy creatures where they be dragons, fairies, mermaids, or werewolves. This means their expertise is often found in specific plots of lands with their duty being to protect the land in the arena of law. This is due to the common problem of these species being unable to speak the common language, being an actual animal, or being generally unwilling to engage in the outside world. When government attempts to "lovingly use" the land for their own purposes, it's the Species Conservationist to protect these vulnerable groups.
C) Prosthetic Technician
Depending on their specialization, P.T can make prosthetic tails for mermaids who have either damaged, lost, or were born without a tail where there should have been one. P.Ts can work on all variety of fantasy creatures from fairy wings to devil horns and all manners of prosthetics for creatures that can't be helped with the typical human-based technicians.
D) Exotic Species Sellers
Where are my people trying to sell Wolpentigers to the rich? Where are my con-artists trying to steal human canines from coffins in order to pass them off as vampire teeth? Where are my exotic bird species that is absolutely "so ugly it's cute" that has become the symbol of revolution meaning that everyone now has to buy one of these cute suckers from their local exotic animal salesperson?
They can either be perfectly legal, con-artists, or illegal but honorable in that "what you see is what you get" kinda way.
I'm not talking about antiques. I'm talking about actual animals and species souvenirs.
E) Vampire Dentist
Need I say more?
F) Inquisitor
An Inquisitor is a supreme and one of the most respected members of the church who conducts interviews for canidates of acceptance and promotion. An Inquisitor is someone who has the remarkable ability to see if someone is telling a truth or a lie, and they have decided to employ this skill to serve your world or country's religion.
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Hehe pjofur art go brrrrrrr. From left to right we got:
Flare Okarda: (he/him)
The one and only. A fugitive from the pjofur society after he went insane, Flare is the 4th iteration of a project gone horribly wrong meant to give the society its ‘greatest gift’. Now on the loose infected with a highly destructive fatal logic error, the universe isn’t safe from Flare’s chaos.
Jakob Nuygara: (he/him)
Born a second class citizen, Jakob suffered a lot of hardship in his early childhood, including the death of his parents who weren’t able to achieve reincarnation status. Using such as a drive, he scratched and clawed his way up until he earned his reincarnation and first class citizenship. Becoming a teacher at the lead teaching institution, Jakob saw the future of the society was in the hands of the youth. This inspired him to create the ‘greatest gift to society’ a project that would end up causing him nothing but misery.
Jokull Nuygara: (he/him)
The 3rd iteration of the greatest gift project, Jokull was renowned by the society as a prodigy, a revolutionist who would deliver the society to a new era of technology. A brilliant mind, he was known for being diligent and dedicated to his work, albeit impossible to speak to outside of a work setting. Many regarded him as perfect, that was, until he one day went insane shortly after reincarnating.
Prince Stali Sitotya: (he/him)
The son of the tyrant Queen Suicuna and the sporddreki prince she married, Stali was her attempt at creating an heir. Only she was quickly met with a horrifying discovery, the child was completely and entirely immune to her mind control. Suicuna would attempt several times to remake Stali, driving him to insanity in the process. After multiple failures, she elected to show Stali ‘mercy’ and allowed him to live and gave him to a servant living in the palace, confident that his mental state would prevent him from ever being a threat.
Fjola Eidur: (she/her)
The daughter of a pjofur named Helgi, head of the botanical department, Fjola was raised alongside Jokull and eventually the two were set up in an arranged marriage and made to be each others’ assigned partners. While she’s a skilled technician, programmer and talented in data analysis, she was often overlooked or only known for her association to Jokull.
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Last funky guy is a hypothetical character who may or may not be further developed, but they’re an ulfur free from the control of the queen.
#art#digital artist#kirby right back at ya#digital art#kirby oc#hoshi no kirby#kirby#kirby series#kirby art#kirby wolfbell au#flare okarda#pjofur#original species#lore#multiple characters#jokull#jakob#fjola#stali
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Beast Wars Transformers Battlefront 1996
Predacon Terrorsaur - Function: Aerial Combat - Terrorsaur is extremely fast and highly skilled in aerial maneuvers, specializing in extended strafing runs (often exhausting his entire arsenal in one go). He prefers to tag-team with Waspinator for his aerial onslaughts, but always considers him utterly expendable. Terrorsaur is also a highly skilled computer technician, with an encyclopedic knowledge of codes and programs from across the galaxy. His primary armament is a hand-held ion blaster that is also capable of firing missiles. He also has two highly destructive shoulder cannons hidden in his shoulders.

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Amilcare, Ekaterini, and Souma
POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, divorce, crime, drug addiction, kidnapping, sexual harassment, and homelessness.
Amilcare
Real name: Amilcare Buonarroti V
Nickname: Amil
Occupation: Peacekeeping troop and an aerospace engineering officer for the Regular Army and R-Shobu Ver. P.M. pilot and sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)
Retirement plans: To become an avionics technician
Hobbies: Watching historical aviation documentaries during lonely nights, engaging in aperitivo and passeggiata with good friends, and collecting vintage beer
Likes: Cockfighting, the trulli of Alberobello, and shamelessly flirting with men and women while socialising at a bar
Dislikes: People who prioritise superficial relationships, not being able to cleanly eliminate enemies, and getting distracted while working on a complex aircraft model
Favourite drink: Blueberry Italian soda
Sexuality: Sex-indifferent, demiromantic bisexual
Gender: Male
Age: 28 (in 2022), 34 (in 2028), 36 (in 2030), 38 (in 2032), 40 (in 2034), 47 (in 2041), 49 (in 2043), 50 (in 2044), and 53 (in 2047)
Design: He’s a 5’ 9” (175.26 cm) Italian mesomorph with rigid muscles and a subtly rounded abdomen. He wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive right-side sky magenta armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. He wears a medium-sleeved indigo shirt and a red-violet belt with a bronze snap-on buckle.
He has almond-coloured skin, green-grey eyes with flecks of yellow, golden brown hair styled in a wavy Ivy League haircut, heavily scarred arms, and a bullet graze mark on his left cheek.
He’s in possession of a R-Shobu Ver. P.M., and carries inspection gauges, precision measurement devices, and aircraft mechanic tools in his load-bearing backpack.
Character summary: He appears to be extremely haughty, but beneath this façade lies a highly emotionally intelligent individual. He utilises his arrogance as a mechanism to repel people he deems "undesirable". However, when interacting with friends, trusted comrades, and superiors, he swiftly drops the high and mighty demeanour, revealing a respectful, kind-hearted, and humble personality. When irritated by the antics of Harvie, Souma, Juozapas, and Priyanka or when something goes terribly wrong, he tends to lose his temper, lashing out aggressively and arguing with anyone who attempts to calm him down. He hates dwelling on guilt and grudges because it only makes him feel hopelessly miserable.
He's quite hard to impress and very critical about everything, stemming from his persistent worries and difficulty finding the silver lining. He's a militaristic and promiscuous perfectionist who tries his best to effortlessly snipe enemies, and often resorts to negative self-talk when he fails to get a clean shot. He's extremely attentive, consistently ensuring his allies' safety and readiness for combat. He doesn’t like to talk about his life because he’s a very private person, thinks it's pretty boring, and dislikes others prying into his affairs. When deciding to trust people, he often makes verbal vows with them to ensure they won’t betray him easily or they’ll face his righteous wrath. He’s good friends with Mikuláš, Thandolwethu, Ekaterini, Zdravko, and Dezső.
Backstory: Amilcare Buonarroti V was born on February 21, 1994 in Alberobello, Italy. He doesn't talk about his life all that much, but he has shared some things about himself. He hailed from a long line of skilled craftsmen renowned for their meticulous restoration work on Alberobello's iconic trulli, which had been devastated during the Thule Expeditionary Conquest. This conflict began when Portugal launched a surprise attack on the Germi family and the Regular Army in Italy. His family's history was also marked by a tradition of Alberobellesi survivalists and affluent business contractors who remained in Italy despite the Italian diaspora. Throughout the period of Fascist Italy, they maintained a secretive lifestyle that defied the regime's fascist ideology.
His grandfather, Amilcare Buonarroti IV, was a master stonemason and owner of a housing construction business. His father, Eliodoro Buonarroti, worked in metalwork and Renaissance art restoration. His mother, Silvestra, was a meat butcher who had formerly served as a military communications specialist in the Regular Army. Both his grandfather and father were perfectionists, viewing imperfection and failure as inexcusable sources of guilt that could form long-held grudges. This mindset would greatly influence his own perfectionistic tendencies.
Ever since he was a young child, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to focus on detailed tasks. For hours, he would assemble complex model aircraft while other kids played games like strega comanda colore and football in the streets. His mother, Silvestra, nurtured his growing interest in aviation, teaching him about radio systems and flight mechanics. His father, Eliodoro, taught him the basics of metalwork and would often watch Italian sports with him on television, especially during special occasions. In contrast, his grandfather showed little personal interest in him, whom he affectionately called Amil, viewing him solely as a perfect successor to the Buonarroti family legacy with clear ambitions.
His household valued privacy and maintained a dignified distance from Alberobello's tourist-heavy social scene, disregarding direct involvement with outsiders. His parents instilled in him the importance of earning respect through competence and integrity, rather than seeking validation through social status. Although his grandfather was largely absent, he would occasionally impart wisdom on survival and wealth accumulation during rare visits.
At 12, his parents' marriage dissolved due to opposing philosophical differences, dividing his life between his father's meticulous craftsmanship and artistic passion, and his mother's strict military background. It was compounded by his parents' struggle to understand him. Silvestra perceived his emotional intelligence as a weakness, while Eliodoro worried about his growing detachment. Following the divorce, he was placed in his mother's custody. She ensured that his father and grandfather were no longer part of his life, a decision that personally saddened him because he had been particularly close to his father. Although his mother was a protective and caring person, she often treated him more like a resilient, tough-as-nails soldier than a vulnerable individual.
During his young adult years, he distanced himself from his mother after completing a mechanics apprenticeship. This newfound independence led him to work for a Mafia organisation that required a discreet hitman to eliminate traitors. Having learned marksmanship from his mother during occasional hunting trips, he proved to be a valuable asset to the Mafia. He also explored romance, engaging in several relationships, but most were short-lived, casual flings. He had brief involvement with a female undercover cop, whom he killed to prevent Mafia exposure, and a caporegime struggling with a cocaine addiction. Shortly after the Arms Deal Barrage, the Ptolemaic Army, eager to expand its resources and ranks, forcefully assimilated the Mafia into its paramilitary forces.
Due to his background as a hitman and knowledge of aviation, he underwent rapid training as a sniper and pilot for one of their oldest aircraft models, the R-Shobu Ver. P.M. To avoid arousing suspicion of being a false believer, he adopted a haughty demeanour and pretended to be fully confident in their beliefs. He also engaged in sexual affairs with both male and female members, presenting this as a way to contribute to the growth of their military force and morale. He was one of the most respected members of the Ptolemaic Army's paramilitary forces, renowned for his militarism and avionics expertise.
However, his loyalty to the Ptolemaic Army was short-lived. Upon learning of a potential uprising, he swiftly defected and became one of the first to join Eri's ill-fated revolt, relieved to escape the Ptolemaic Army's repugnant ideology. Later, he enlisted in the Regular Army, where he distinguished himself as a dependable aerospace engineering officer.
Ekaterini
Real name: Ekaterini Papacharalambous
Nickname: Kateri
Occupation: Peacekeeping troop for the Regular Army and a sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)
Retirement plans: To become a war historian
Hobbies: Going on evening coastal walks, collecting ancient texts and historical records sold at bookstores and pawn shops, and writing autobiographies about the people she cares about
Likes: The lanes full of flowers in Kokkari, participating in the celebrations of Apokries and May Day, and the serenity of fishing harbours and weathered landscapes
Dislikes: Financial grievances, erasure of history, and people who are dogmatic thinkers and close-minded thieves
Favourite food: Savory spinach pie with horiatiki salad
Sexuality: Aromantic pansexual
Gender: Female
Age: 18 (in 2022), 24 (in 2028), 26 (in 2030), 28 (in 2032), 30 (in 2034), 37 (in 2041), 39 (in 2043), 40 (in 2044), and 43 (in 2047)
Design: She’s a 5’ 8” (172.72 cm) Greek endomorph of British descent with sloping shoulders, a somewhat heavier build, and curvy legs. She wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive left-side caput mortuum armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. She wears a rosy brown T-shirt and Russian violet paratrooper boots with iridescent purple laces.
She has sun-kissed olive skin, cocoa eyes, and straight wine red hair with a choppy fringe bang, which is often tied into low pigtails that reach just above her elbows. A deep, scarred gash in the centre of her left forearm is hidden by worn, dirty gauze.
Character summary: She's a hard-boiled and self-sacrificing individual with a compassionate, tender, and joyful side that she reserves for those she trusts, admires, and considers family. Although sometimes misanthropic, she offers insightful and constructive feedback, driven by a desire to uplift others and help them become better people. She’s incredibly malicious towards enemies and traitors, believing they forfeit any right to kindness and mercy. She's assertive, fearlessly standing up for herself and others when necessary, and boldly speaking the truth, even when it's difficult to hear. She has a deep appreciation for human history, which attempts to capture the complexities of human civilization, including lesser-known details.
She possesses unwavering determination and a strong will, driving her to pursue her desires despite contrary advice. While cautious in new situations due to her view of life's unpredictability, she attempts to anticipate outcomes through logical analysis and reasoning. She has a fierce fighting spirit and is a firm believer in individual freedom as long as one's actions don't harm the integrity and safety of others. Whenever she feels her inner peace is off balance, she seeks temporary solitude in nature, where she daydreams and takes leisurely, safe strolls. She’s good friends with Gyeong-Hui, Thandolwethu, Amilcare, and Juozapas.
Backstory: Ekaterini Papacharalambous was born on September 18, 2004 in Kokkari, Samos, Greece. She’s the descendant of EAM-ELAS resistance fighters who survived the harsh winter following the arrival of Italy's 6th Infantry Division "Cuneo" on Samos in 1941, which led to the island's occupation. Additionally, she has a few British ancestors who served in the Allied forces during WWII. These ancestors were aided by the resistance fighters in escaping to cross into Türkiye and later reciprocated by distributing food to the locals on Samos and helping prepare their defences. Her father, Stylianos Papacharalambous, is a fifth-generation fisherman, while her mother, Rue, is a local school teacher specialising in ancient history and social justice. Rue suffered a miscarriage due to complications from bacterial vaginosis, which resulted in the loss of her twin sister. Her maternal great-grandfather, Myron, was a British-Greek veteran who fought alongside the Greek government army during the Greek Civil War.
While Myron was still alive, he would frequently look after her when her parents were at work. During their evenings together, he would tell her stories of sacrifice, betrayal, and the stark line between ally and enemy, sharing with her the experiences of their ancestors. Shortly after her 6th birthday, Myron passed away due to natural causes, leaving a profound impact on her. Following his heartbreaking passing, Ekaterini often sought solitude at the pebble beach. Her paternal aunt, Nektaria Papacharalambous, would take on the role as her babysitter, having recently relocated to Kokkari for work in boat maintenance. Her aunt would tell her stories about their fisher ancestors, sharing tales of their everyday lives at sea, which focused on the routines of fishing and survival, daring expeditions, and discoveries of new marine life.
At the age of 13, during a secret night walk, she stumbled upon a trusted family friend and business partner to the Papacharalambous family stealing her father's fishing boat. The theft was a devastating blow as the boat was the family's primary source of income. As a result, they were forced to navigate a harsh winter with severely limited financial resources. Although some neighbours offered food and work opportunities, Stylianos often declined their charity, feeling responsible for the loss and determined not to burden others. Meanwhile, other opportunistic individuals attempted to exploit the family's vulnerability, offering loans with exorbitant interest rates or trying to purchase their home at a fraction of its value. However, Ekaterini's parents remained resilient and saw through these exploitative tactics. To make ends meet, her father worked as a deckhand on other boats, her mother picked up extra teaching shifts, and her aunt took on various odd jobs.
At 17, she felt stifled by Kokkari's limited job opportunities and her family's ongoing financial struggles. One night, during another secret stroll, she met a group of local teenagers who shared her desire for something more. Together, they would sneak away to the green mountains while their caregivers worked and they finished their schoolwork. There, they taught themselves survival skills and marksmanship, using old hunting rifles borrowed from relatives. This group became the first people she trusted since her family's betrayal, but their carefree days were short-lived. While hanging out at Ekaterini's favourite spot, they were ambushed by men wearing black masks and taken to a remote Aegean forest far from their village.
After enduring hours of ruthless indoctrination and witnessing the brutal deaths of her friends Dimos, Filippa, and Klio, who were mutilated for resisting, Ekaterini and her six remaining friends—Louiza, Pavlos, Spiro, Zinon, Yiannis, and Emilios—were thrust into the Ptolemaic Army's paramilitary training program. Leveraging her experience with firearms and hunting, she was trained as a sniper alongside her friends, fighting together and spending time as a group. Although she avoided being forced into breeding programs for new cultists and soldiers, she occasionally faced sexual harassment.
She eventually joined Eri's rebellion, driven by a desire to reunite with her family and outraged by the murder of a friend at the hands of a masked soldier. The friend had been killed simply for politely asking for extra rations. She received a deep gash scar when a guerrilla attempted to murder her, but she utilised her self-defence skills to overpower him and escape. Although the Phantom Strike brutally slaughtered her remaining friends during Eri's revolt, Ekaterini found solace in her new team, whom she came to regard as a surrogate family. She was later reunited with her biological family and discovered a new passion for documenting her life experiences. She also developed a keen interest in studying war history and the art of warfare.
Souma
Real name: Souma Kuroiwa
Occupation: Peacekeeping troop for the Regular Army and a sniper for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)
Retirement plans: To become a circus acrobat
Hobbies: Making traditional Japanese street foods for his comrades to enjoy, watching the performances put on by the Heaven Artists, and kyūdō
Likes: Tasty desserts, the smoothness of black pebbles, and how funny and odd clowns are
Dislikes: Unfair death, visiting local parks at night, and people mocking his terrible handwriting and short attention span
Favourite food: Chorizo tako sausage
Favourite drink: Ramune (preferably yuzu)
Sexuality: Aromantic asexual
Gender: Male
Age: 16 (in 2022), 22 (in 2028), 24 (in 2030), 26 (in 2032), 28 (in 2034), 35 (in 2041), 37 (in 2043), 38 (in 2044), and 41 (in 2047)
Design: He’s a slender yet muscular 5’ 11” (180.34 cm) Japanese mesomorph who wears the Ptolemaic Army sniper uniform, but with a distinctive right-side harvest gold armband featuring the Regular Army insignia. He wears an eggplant-hued T-shirt with ripped sleeves, a copper-buckled black bean belt, and spike-soled butterscotch paratrooper boots.
He has pale ivory skin, light grey eyes, a brownish mole under his right eye, a coarse black buzz cut dyed a caramel brown colour, and a metallic blue snake bite piercing.
Character summary: He's an assertive and honourable Shinto worshipper who respects others' boundaries and interests, even when he finds them unappealing. He has a mischievous streak and enjoys playing harmless pranks, primarily to observe their reactions and ease the tension of some situations. He has a habit of encouraging others to take risks that might not be in their best interest, often leading to trouble. In contrast to Harvie, Juozapas, and Priyanka, who readily accept defeat and acknowledge their mistakes, he’s a rebel at heart, which often puts him at odds with Thandolwethu. While he's fairly superstitious, he's not rigid in his beliefs and will occasionally disregard certain Japanese superstitions if he finds them too implausible.
He's often impatient, preferring to get things done quickly, but he can adapt and take a more patient approach when he realises that rushing isn't an option. He has a strong desire to stand out from the crowd and be liked by everyone, which can lead him to seek attention and affirmation. He struggles with emotional awareness, often failing to pick up on subtle cues and implications, and typically requires direct and explicit communication to understand others' feelings and needs. He struggles with the personal implications of being neurodivergent, which causes him distress, largely due to the stigma and societal biases that neurodivergent individuals often face. He’s good friends with Harvie, Juozapas, and Priyanka.
Backstory: Souma Kuroiwa was born on June 23, 2006 in Ueno, Tokyo, Japan. His father, Osamu Kuroiwa, was a third-generation vendor specialising in takoyaki, mochi, and dango. His mother was a food advertising agent, formerly a circus acrobat who performed acrobatic tricks on the streets of Ueno. From the day he was born, his father expected him to be the successful heir to the Kuroiwa family's two-decade-old vendor business. His parents were devout and superstitious Shinto believers, who, due to a lack of personal interest, didn't concern themselves with other religions, yet remained respectful of them. He frequently accompanied his parents to the Ueno Tōshō-gū to pay respects to nature and the Shinto deities as they sought to maintain their faith and avoid bad omens.
He spent his early years in the family's small apartment above their popular food stand, where the constant stream of tourists and locals fueled his desire for attention. Helping his father with food preparation and collecting payments was a regular part of his routine. He was also encouraged to get creative, adding his own twists to each batch, and took great delight in customers' reactions. In their small living room, his mother taught him tumbling, using rolled-up futons as makeshift crash mats. She also often took him to watch the Heaven Artists and various street musicians perform on the streets of Ueno. When he was 9, a faulty firework crashed into his parents' stand, accidentally setting it ablaze. Rather than rebuilding, they seized the opportunity to transform their business into a mobile food truck, using the money they had worked tirelessly to earn.
His parents were loving, kind, and supportive, but also very strict when it came to his education and their superstitions. They had high expectations, always demanding the best from him because they wanted to ensure his future success. Additionally, they diligently enforced their superstitions, regularly checking to make sure he was following them perfectly, fearing that any mistake might invite bad omens. This pressure was particularly challenging for him as he struggled with the expectation of being flawless and obedient to beliefs he sometimes found hard to accept. Compounding these difficulties were his dysgraphia and inattentive ADHD, which made writing, staying focused, and maintaining organisation feel like a bothersome chore.
He was frequently bullied at school due to his struggles with spelling and handwriting, as well as his inattentiveness. His parents attempted to assist him with his homework and assignments whenever their busy schedules allowed. However, they struggled to understand his neurodiversity because he would become visibly distressed whenever they gently suggested that something might be amiss. At 12, frustration with the world and the expectations placed upon him drove him to rebel, becoming fiercely assertive and running away from home.
During his time away from home, he experienced homelessness, often sleeping in parks and resorting to petty crimes like pickpocketing and shoplifting to survive. He was also involved in a few nighttime altercations with would-be assailants, but his agility and acrobatic skills allowed him to easily evade harm. During the midnight hours, when he was struggling to fall asleep, he decided to take a stroll to clear his mind. As he walked, he spotted a figure wearing a white mask with red glowing eyes in an alleyway. Acting on impulse, he approached the figure, and instead of facing a negative outcome, they surprisingly welcomed him. The figure then used subtle psychological manipulation to convince him to join the Ptolemaic Army.
Desiring a new purpose in life, he felt drawn to the idea and accepted the invitation. He was promptly taken to a Ptolemaic Army base located in a remote forest near Tokyo. He was selected to be trained as a sniper due to his stealth skills and ability to evade incoming attacks with ease. Despite struggling with inattentiveness, he managed to become a relatively successful sniper as the role motivated him to improve his focus and stay on track. However, the thrill he experienced during intense missions began to make him impatient, which would often frustrate the commander he was assigned to work with.
As a rebellion brewed within the Ptolemaic Army, he grew increasingly anxious about his parents. He realised how deeply he missed them and how caring they were, a stark contrast to his comrades, who were dismissive and crude towards him. Desperate for a way to contact his family, he turned to the masked soldier who had initially recruited him into the Ptolemaic Army. He knew that the cult was the only means for those in the paramilitary forces to have direct access to the outside world. However, the figure laughed, revealing that his parents had been executed when they got too close to uncovering the truth about their son's disappearance.
This moment of truth made him realise the Ptolemaic Army's cruelty and manipulative nature, sparking his desire for righteous change. He joined Eri's rebellion, hoping to avenge his parents and form genuine connections with people who saw him as a human being. After the short-lived revolt, he marked his transformation by getting a haircut, dyeing his hair, and getting snake bite piercings. To him, it was a symbolic departure from his troubled past.
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Marq Refrigerator Service Center Kukatpally Hyderabad 7337443380
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Behind-the-scenes hc thingies for Cash or Check! I probably forgot like half of them, lol.
Are they hc's when it's my own fanfic...?
-Alastor dislikes sex -Alastor didn't start out liking kissing, but kissing Vox makes his lips tingle and that's quite interesting let's keep doing it -He likes feeling weight on top of him (Vox optional) someone should introduce him to weighted blankets -He likes sleeping on top of Vox so he can hear/feel his heartbeat (Vox not optional, sadly) -He keeps everything Vox gave him, even if he might forget he has it in the first place -He doesn't mind following in a dance but he usually ends up leading anyway even if he keeps doing the woman's steps -He used to go to every opening night of Vox's movies and talked about them in his radio show when he knew Vox wouldn't be listening -Not that Vox will ever know, but when there was a competitor, they would "miraculously" disappear -He loves Vox, but he doesn't have the words to say it -If things had gone differently, he might've been open to having sex with Vox one day willingly -He has stolen some of Vox's clothes but has never worn them (he's unsure why he took them it just felt right) -He dreams about eating Vox sometimes -Vox is special to him, even more so than Niffty -Alastor doesn't know how or when he fell in love, Vox was just something entertaining/interesting at first before that shifted -Vox gets forgiven for everything, he can literally do no wrong (that doesn't mean he won't get shamed to oblivion for mistakes it's just that Alastor will forgive and move on) -He can yap about Vox for hours and not realise what he sounds like (Husk is a prefered suffering victim) -He has gender dysphoria (usually it's hardly an issue but lately it's been getting worse I wonder why) -As a child, he killed fifteen dogs in eight months' time -He tried to kill himself twice but didn't succeed -He's far-sighted but due to convience, he'd wear his glasses all the time -Alastor's initial, unspoken reaction to Vox's first proposal was "Are you fucking insane?" -In the same vein, he got a ring custom-made for Vox (it's white-blue with shark motif) -Alastor rarely ever gets in the mood and when he does it's more like a chore and Vox is not required to assist (Murder only gets him in the mood for more murder) -He indulges Niffty in her roleplay sometimes (pretending to be the big bad evil king with her as his princess) (Husk usually serves as the loyal royal steed (he's not being asked)) -Alastor likes soft things, although he's not entirely aware of it -He's a tease and likes to flirt but he's also prone to just walking off in a conversation (Flirting only goes one way, not the other) -Alastor's favourite position is none of them -He is the last to sleep and the first to wake -Unless Vox is there; when Vox is there Alastor falls asleep as soon as he gets tired
-Vox loves Alastor -He likes it whenever Alastor would put his hands on Vox's chest (it makes him feel big and strong and manly) -He loves how dainty Alastor is -His small waist is making Vox feel things that are not pg13 -Alastor absolutely terrifies him, like a beautiful monster -Vox used to be more creative, but it slowly drained out of him -Rodriguez doesn't work for him anymore, but they still have contact from time to time -Vox had been married with three children he didn't care for and often forgets even existed -He used to coerce young girls to have sex with him -Alastor is the first one he's tried his bisexual side with -He loves Al, but he also loves Val -When having sex with Val, he sometimes accidentally calls him Al (which Val often just hears as his own name so Vox's screen is spared destruction) -Vox's favourite position is all of them -Even while surrounded by highly skilled technicians, Vox usually only trusts himself and Alastor to handle the tech in his head -He has more wet dreams about Alastor than he likes to admit -He loves the soft fur on Alastor's body -While he won't pry, he'd really like to know the stories of Alastor's numerous scars - they are a part of the man he loves -Vox loves Alastor so, so much -He's not into feet at all, but Alastor's hooves are a completely different thing -His clothes on Alastor drive him insane -Calling Alastor a girl is a little like a game to him - he likes to be a big man -He doesn't really understand Alastor most of the time but he hardly lets that stop him -He'll never tell anyone but Alastor squeaks quietly when he sleeps
-Niffty's human name was Alice and she got adopted from an orphanage when she was seven -Neither of them know it, or will ever find out, but Niffty is in fact Alastor's biological daughter -Alastor yapped about Vox on three seperate occasions, so Rosie had the man investigated before concluding that her bestie had, yet again, went and picked up a stray -Velvette is a lesbian and considers Bunny to be "one of the girls" -Velvette and Alastor play HellVille together
-Everything you see posted is the first draft (let's not count notes) which probably makes me a bad author :) -I also probably forgot about half of what I wanted to write here :)
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