#the commissioner actually has a tattoo of this!

[voices-in-dark-violets-head]

An Okami-style Ninetales piece I drew a long while ago!

[nylibrty]

girl with the tattoo ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ chapter one

「pairing」 breanna stewart x riley carter (oc)

「summary」 riley carter just got drafted to the new york liberty, and she can't seem to figure out whats up with the vet, breanna stewart.

「cw」 n/a

「notes」 first chapter... im scared i hope yall like this!

series masterlist

her heart was beating out of her chest, her palms were soaked, and she couldn't believe this was happening.

she was sitting in the front row at the 2024 WNBA draft, fresh off the high of her last college season and getting ready to enter her rookie year in new york. she had nothing to worry about, she was the first pick and was guaranteed a spot on the roster, but her brain was still swimming with every possible thing that could go wrong. it was about to start, she cleared her throat and sat up straight, knowing cameras were gonna be on her any second.

a lot of talk, she was having a hard time focusing though, more focused on planning on how to not look like a fool on the stage. then before she knew it, it had actually begun. "...with the first pick in the 2024 WNBA draft, the new york liberty select riley carter, university of notre dame" riley grinned widely. she knew it was coming, but that didn't make it any less exciting or shocking. she hugged those around her, her mom, her dad, her little brother, and then her best friend, and made her way up the small set of stairs to the stage. the commissioner, cathy, stood there with a new york liberty jersey in her hand, the number one printed on it in bold.

she held it with one hand, flashing a smile at the several sets of cameras that surrounded the stage. the next few hours were blurry for riley. sitting through the rest of the draft, cheering for her fellow teammates who also were drafted, then the several after-parties that followed.

hours later, riley found herself stumbled into her hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. her mind was racing,

this was the beginning of everything.

—

a week and a half had passed, riley had managed to find a small apartment perfect for her new home in new york. she had flown home briefly, packing all her stuff from her apartment in indiana and flying it all the way to her new place in new york. she had made her way around downtown brooklyn, finding a couple places to eat and a couple museums to put on her list of things to check out. she was still nervous, who wouldn't be? she had to uproot her entire life and move, she has to learn a new teams way of playing, and the people on it.

the first day of training camp started tomorrow, and riley was scared as all hell.

she woke up bright and early that morning, going through her usual camp morning routine. run, breakfast, shower, get ready, go. she made her way to the subway, music quietly playing through her headphones until she got to her destination. a few songs had cycled through before the subway stopped at a station, the one riley had to get off on.

she scooped up her gym bag and threw it over her shoulder, exiting the cab and then walking up the stairs to the ground floor. liberty's training facility was only a block away, a couple-minute walk. she wasn't alone for much longer, being greeted by two women as she got closer to the facility.

"carter! welcome rookie," the dark-haired one said, sticking out her hand to shake.

riley smiled, her hand meeting the woman's. "its nice to meet you, you are..?"

the woman laughed, shaking her head with a small chuckle. "completely forgot to introduce ourselves! i'm camilla, and this is lily," she pointed to the shorter, blonde woman standing next to her. "we'll be showing you around today," she started talking about the schedule that in store for her. several meetings with different members of the front office and coaches, then the actual camp with her new teammates.

the women showed riley the way around the long concrete hallways and eventually to the locker room. "your locker is on the far right, you should see your name on it! we'll let you get settled in and in about 15 minutes you can meet us in the conference room, sound good?" lily told her.

with a nod, riley made her way over to her locker, an led screen above it with her name and number. she grinned, they really were making this special for her. she placed her gym bag into the cubby, unpacking a couple pairs of shoes and tucked extra socks and shirts into the drawers below. there were a couple other people in locker room with her, a few new rookies and some other players. she exchanged hi's with a few of them, more focused on getting that stupidly heavy bag off her arm.

as riley sat down, taking a sip out of her water bottle, she saw a woman approach her, "riley, right? your college highlights are absolutely everything!" the unmistakable smile recongized her as new yorks 6'1 center, kayla thornton.

"thank you! kt, right?" she smiled up at the dark skinned girl.

she nodded then turned her head around and pointed to a group of girls standing only a few lockers down, "thats nyara, kb, and leo." she said, pointing to each of them as she said their names.

riley sat there nodding, pretending like she didn't know all their names. "it's nice to meet you all, i think i'm supposed to have a formal meeting with everybody on the team later in the day."

her and kayla talked for a while longer before riley realized she should probably head down to the conference room. "i think im stuck in another meeting with the front office before camp starts."

kt frowned, "alright! well, we'll see you later rook."

—

after what felt like forever, it was finally time to start actually playing basketball. riley walked to the practice gym in her brand new practice jersey and shoes. at the door, stood sandy brondello, the head coach, and breanna stewart, the world-famous vet. she had seen breanna before, she was certainly gorgeous, but nothing like she was now. a smug smirk across her face and leaning against the door frame, it was like whatever stupid childhood crush she had on the player had come back full swing.

she gulped, getting herself together and walking up to the two. "its a pleasure to have you on our team, carter." sandy smiled, shaking her hand.

"notre dame, huh?" breanna raised her eyebrow, glancing down at the white piece of paper she held in her hands, presumably an information and stat sheet about her.

"dont get too cocky, husky." riley smirked, teasing back already.

"i like this one." breanna said to sandy, the two girls broke out into giggles before heading into the gym.

the gym was nice, one that you could call home for the next season or potentially more. after a couple of introductions and explanations everybody got split off into pairs in order to get some shots up, and of course you ended up getting paired with breanna.

“alright rookie, let’s see what you got.” she smirked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“are you gonna call me names the entire season or are you just hazing me now?��� riley asked, looking up at the taller woman.

breanna smiled at that and a warm feeling erupted in the pits of your stomach, you could almost feel your face getting red. “i don’t care if im on my deathbed and you’re a hall of famer, im still calling you rook.”

she rolled her eyes and walked towards the ball cart, grabbing one and tossing it at breanna.

the two girls started the drill, trading shots and rebounding for one another.

“so, how are you liking new york so far?” breanna asked, sitting down by the post for a second to take a sip of her water.

"its alright! its definitely different than indiana," she laughed, motioning for breanna to hand her the water bottle next to hers.

breanna tossed her the water bottle, resting on her arms before speaking again. "i'll have to take you to some of my favorite places sometime," she paused for a moment, realizing the implication of her words. a soft silence fell over them for a second. riley's brain was reeling, was breanna really flirting with her or was this wishful thinking?

"that sounds great." riley smiled. breanna held her hand out, asking for help up off the floor. riley grabbed her hand, pulling her up. her hand was soft, her long fingers wrapping around the rookies hand and leveraging herself up.

they looked at each other for a second, an unexplainable silence sitting between them. riley's eyes met breannas eyes, the icy blue ones looking into rileys green ones. she still held her hand, almost unable to drop it.

before either of the girls could say something, sandy called out for everybody to come huddle before dismissing camp for the day.

breanna cleared her throat, dropping rileys hand and walking away without words.

riley swallowed, realizing that whatever stupid thought she had about breanna maybe flirting with her wasn't realistic and wishful thinking. she was years older than her anyways.

she walked over to the huddle, listening to sandys speech before being dismissed back to the locker room to gather her stuff and go home.

she walked with kayla and leonie, small talk about moving and the upcoming season to fill dead air. they made it back to the locker room and she began to gather her things, ignoring the feeling of someone watching her from the other side of the room.

when she turned around, she saw just that, breanna standing at her locker pretending like she wasn't looking at her.

riley left without a word, not wanting to think about whatever the fuck happened between them today, worried she already messed up her relationship with her teams vet.

[hellbreakfast]

Good Client Guide

I've been asked how to be a good commissioner, and while every artist is different, there are a few guidelines that are at least solid rules of thumb. In no specific order, and with no real presentation to speak of, here's a list.

Know what you want, or at least have a vague idea in mind

Communicate clearly: do not be coy or make an artist drag it out of you. Include details, especially if they are important to you. This isn't like buying a TV, this is getting another human being to make you something that is only for you. This is about what you want. If you need to give feedback regarding work done, do so clearly and cogently as possible. You don't have to be a poet, just a person with an idea, so don't be intimidated.

Have references: Either have a reference sheet made up (even if you draw your first one, yourself!) or gather up some images of things you like. If you're working without a sheet, first make sure the artist is ok with that, then give them the info. I have had people come to me with little photocollages listing ”Hair similar to this, but this color, clothes like this, body style like this, shoes like this, but in this color, etc.“ And you know what? I nailed it for them every time. Once you have your first image, use that as reference for the next ones.

Try to make sure your references have everything an artist will need to work from.

Ask for WIPs on big projects, and ask for changes during the sketch phase: It is generally ok to ask for a WIP sketch on a big project. General etiquette is to ask for any big changes during the sketch stage, before inking and coloring get involved.That said, do not be afraid to ask for what you want. If, at the sketch stage, something is off, speak up. Be frank, but do be polite. Every rule also has its exceptions. If your character has purple hair, and the artist has colored it blonde, mention that. If they missed that little tattoo that is on your ref sheet, mention it. One thing, though, do not ask artists to work off of several conflicting sheets. The collage idea only works if you're just starting out, and it's confusing to jump back and forth between conflicting references.

Regarding artistic license: Ask if an artist is comfy with that, first. Some people genuinely like seeing where an artist will take something. This is lovely! However, some of us are very uneasy with it, and want a clear idea of what you want. Also, if you choose to let an artist create something for you, with no more input than the initial contact and concept, please don't ask for a bunch of changes. Many people think they want to be surprised, but actually do have a vision in mind, and become disappointed if they don't get a vision they never communicated in the first place. That isn't fair to any of the parties involved!

Be respectful of boundaries: If an artist says they are uncomfortable with a subject, do not push them to engage with said subject. Period, end of story. An artist also shouldn't press you to let them use any of your characters in ways you don't like.

Don't argue with an artist's prices: If you can't afford something, that's ok. We aren't judging you, we're probably poor, too. But don't argue or be rude about a price. “Wow, I wish I could afford that!” is the “If it doesn't scan, it's free, right?” of the art world. Please do not. Especially on an open commissions announcement or something, because at that point you're getting in the way of paying clients instead of just being pithy.

Pay promptly: Some artists take the whole thing upfront, some take half upfront and half after. Some dangerous fools don't take any money upfront, paid only on completion. Whatever methodology they take, pay at the time that you agree to.

Tipping: It is good form to tip an artist, if you can afford to. Most people do not know this. Artists often undersell their wares, and if you think its worth more, even that up with a tip.

Do not buy what you can't afford: Dear, god, the last thing I want to hear from a client is that they aren't eating or paying their bills to buy something from me. Please, take care of yourself and do not buy art if you are in danger! Food, meds and shelter first! We're out of a job if our clients die off, you know!

Be respectful of time: If you have a date you need something by, make sure that's clear, and that the artist agrees to that date. Generally, there can be roughly 24 hours of play in response time on either end, since both you and the artist do have lives. You may not even live in the same time zone! Both can be patient with that. And, of course, if either has an emergency or illness, that's different. Asking after something more than once a day is a bit clingy, but also, don't leave an artist hanging for days on end if they're asking for feedback.

While my words might have gotten long in the tooth, I would like to hope these are cogent in the majority. I'm blessed to do this work, and blessed with good clients, so hopefully this little guide can shine a light for anyone wondering how to be a good one, too!

[thecreaturecodex]

Hulk of Zoretha (Female)

Image by Ralph Horsley, © Wizards of the Coast.

[Commissioned by @tar-baphon​. The Hulks of Zoretha are weird for Elder Evils in a number of respects. Firstly, they’re not unique creatures, instead coming as a set. They’re sexually dimorphic, which is a neat twist. They also have iterative slam attacks, which is not something commonly seen in 3.x. That last part I’ve stripped out. I’m statting the male Hulk of Zoretha separately (the commissioner wanted him to have a higher CR, for one thing). Unlike with my other Elder Evils, where I’ve typically abstracted their signs, the supernatural events that occur as they plunge the world into chaos, I’ve moved it over to the actual stat block. Because having an effect that makes people fight each other is useful in combat.]

Hulk of Zoretha (Female) CR 16 CE Outsider (native) This musclebound humanoid has vague, misshapen features seemingly carved into its stony body. Runic markings like tattoos cover its body, glowing with internal energy.

The hulks of Zoretha are alien horrors, spoken of in hushed tones and rumors by all but the most daring or mad sages. Their existence is documented in the madness inducing Zoretha Scrolls. They are five in number, quiescent in a remote part of the world, tended by violent cultists in the hopes of inducing them to awaken and cleanse the world of order and civilization. As the hulks stir in their slumber, the bonds of civility fall apart, violence breaks out en masse and even friends and lovers turn on each other in bloody rage.

The hulks of Zoretha are in fact an ancient terraforming project, designed to cleanse worlds of civilization. Different sets of five hulks have been seeded on a dozen planets, awaiting some mysterious signal or cosmic alignment to begin awakening and carry out their campaign of destruction. Four of the five hulks are female, capable of birthing an army of monsters to expand the reach of their violence. The fifth is male, whose job it is to impregnate the females and guard them from exceptionally powerful threats long enough for the next generation to be born.

The four female hulks are mechanically almost identical, differing only in their energy affinities. Each can breathe a destructive cone of energy, and their strikes carry the power of acid, electricity, fire or cold. More hazardous still is their effect on mortal minds. The very presence of a hulk of Zoretha inspires mindless violence, and the hulks can focus their alien minds on creatures that resist, inducing vivid waking nightmares. Despite their implacable affect, a hulk of Zoretha will attempt to flee a losing battle, as their ultimate goal can only be achieved by the survival and propagation of their species.

Hulk of Zoretha (Female)            CR 16 XP 76,800 CE Huge outsider (native) Init +4; Senses blindsight 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., Perception +23 Aura blood moon (60 ft., Will DC 22), dark visitant (100 miles, Will DC 22) Defense AC 32, touch 12, flat-footed 32 (-2 size, +20 natural, +4 deflection) hp 232 (16d10+144); fast healing 10 Fort +14, Ref +10, Will +14 DR 10/epic; Immune ability damage, ability drain, energy drain, mind-influencing effects, poison, polymorph; SR 27 Defensive Abilities freedom of movement Offense Speed 60 ft. Melee 2 slams +23 (4d8+9 plus 2d6 energy/19-20) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks breath weapon (1d4 rounds, 50 foot cone, 8d12 energy, Ref DC 27 half), waking nightmare Spell-like Abilities CL 16th, concentration +20 Constant—freedom of movement, shield of faith 1/day—summon (1 elder elemental, 100%, 8th level) Statistics Str 29, Dex 10, Con 28, Int 16, Wis 19, Cha 19 Base Atk +16; CMB +27 (+31 bull rush); CMD 41 (43 vs. bull rush) Feats Awesome Blow, Cleave, Great Cleave, Greater Bull Rush, Improved Critical (slam), Improved Bull Rush, Improved Initiative, Power Attack Skills Acrobatics +19 (+31 jumping), Climb +28, Intimidate +23, Knowledge (geography) +19, Knowledge (planes, religion) +22, Perception +23, Sense Motive +23, Swim +28 Languages Abyssal, Celestial, Infernal, telepathy 1000 ft., one elemental language SQ elemental affinity, no breath, quiescent invulnerability Ecology Environment any Organization solitary or rampage (2-4 plus 0-1 male Hulk of Zoretha) Treasure incidental Special Abilities Blood Moon Aura (Su) All living creatures within 60 feet of a female hulk of Zoretha must succeed a DC 22 Will save or be affected by a rage and song of discord effect for 1 minute. If a creature would be affected by multiple auras in the same turn, it makes a single save, but suffers a -1 penalty to its save DC for each additional hulk. A creature that saves against this aura is immune to the blood moon aura of the hulks of Zoretha for the next 24 hours. This is a mind-influencing compulsion effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Dark Visitant (Su) Any divine spellcaster who sleeps within 100 miles of a female hulk of Zoretha must succeed a DC 22 Will save or be affected by a nightmare spell and take 1d4+1 points of Wisdom drain. When the hulks are quiescent, this radius is reduced to 1 mile. The save DC is Charisma based. Elemental Affinity (Ex) Each female hulk of Zoretha is attuned to a single element. This determines the nature of the elemental damage dealt by her breath weapon and slam attacks, her energy resistances and immunities, and the type of elemental she can summon. The varieties of hulk are as follows: Acid Hulk: acid damage, immune to acid, resist electricity 20 and fire 20, summon elder mud elemental Electric Hulk: electricity damage, immune to electricity, resist cold 20 and fire 20, summon elder lightning elemental Fire Hulk: fire damage, immune to fire, resist acid 20 and electricity 20, summon elder fire elemental Ice Hulk: cold damage, immune to cold, resist acid 20 and electricity 20, summon elder ice elemental Quiescent Invulnerability (Ex) When dormant, a hulk of Zoretha is immune to all damage and divination effects. Waking Nightmare (Su) Five times per day as a swift action, a female hulk of Zoretha can inflict a waking nightmare on a creature within 30 ft., The creature must succeed a DC 22 Will save or be afflicted for 1d6+1 rounds. Each type of hulk has a different nightmare, as follows: Acid Hulk: Scream in terror from horrible visions. Become nauseated and suffer a -20 penalty to Stealth checks. Electric Hulk: Wracked with phantom pains. Take a -4 penalty to attack and melee damage rolls, skill and ability checks and saving throws. Fire Hulk: Tear into your own flesh in an attempt to cut out a parasite. Spend a standard action each round to deal 1d8+Str bonus damage to yourself Ice Hulk: Convinced that you are buried alive. Make a Will save each round or fall unconscious for the remaining duration. These are mind-influencing illusion effects. The save DC is Charisma based.

[demonboyhalo]

I may have made character stuff...

-So Ranboo's just this dude, owns a casino somehow, and he's generally regarded as pretty nice, it's the place you go if you want to gamble and not have to deal with asshole owners. If you can avoid Tommy, he's not the friendliest. And yeah, the owner wears a mask around all the time, but sometimes people are just like that. -In other circles, though, he's generally regarded as someone you don't want to mess with, he's intuitive as hell and has a lot of resources. And his stare is oddly menacing if you think about it for too long. Everyone he's ever been in a business meeting with will vow on their life that the man doesn't blink. -The casino has regulars, and some of them are normal, just fairly friendly and they like the place. Others, however, are more... quiet. They stick out. There's the guy with long pink braided hair and a pig tattoo, who everyone swears they've never heard talk. They're also pretty sure he carries a gun under that jacket of his, someone saw the handle once when he was pushing past them. (Techno's fairly close with Ranboo and the others, he just doesn't know how to deal with customers.) -Another one, often seen with him, is the man in green, usually a trench coat but someone's girlfriend's cousin's father's dogsitter's brother's pretty sure they saw him in cosplay once. He has a matching green earring with the man with pink hair (actual gold and emeralds, high quality too.), and is rarely seen without him. He's occasionally affable with the customers, but mostly he seems a bit too tired of them. Whenever he's around, there seem to be more crows than usual gathering around the building, some even pecking on the windows. -There's a third, he doesn't come around as much, but he's simple, a yellow turtleneck and a scarf of blue wool. When asked, he'll tell you his girlfriend made it. (No one knows anything about the girlfriend, and they're pretty sure he's making her up. He is. He found the scarf on someone's dead body. He panicked the first time someone asked.) He seems a little zoned out sometimes, but then he'll give you a too-sharp smile or you'll see a glint of steel at his hip and you remember to fear him. -All of the regulars know Tommy, and if you asked them they'd say they hated him, but they'd be lying for saying they weren't at least a little fond of the guy. Sure, he was a bit insufferable sometimes, but he had some sort of magical ability to worm his way into your mind until you were sighing of tired affection instead of tired anger. -No one really knows Tubbo, most only know of his existence from the golden band Ranboo wears, and the ones that do don't really see much substance to him. Sure he's nice, but lots of people are nice. They've clearly never seen the stacks of C4 in his stock room, or seen the flamethrower he made once when he was bored. (Ranboo made sure all his clothes were flame-retardant after its creation, because his husband was great at what he did, but his aim wasn't always precise.) -Schlatt was the local police commissioner, and taught Tubbo everything he knew. Maybe he wasn't the most straight-laced policeman, but who was? Look, he usually didn't let people die, that's probably how he got his job, right? Well, that and the copious bribes and threats. No one ever said he was a good person. He was currently after some mysterious group that kept stealing shit and blowing things up (and probably doing other things, but he hadn't figured them out yet), because honestly they were bad for business and it would look good to have taken down a whole crime ring. Maybe he'd even get a commendation. Maybe he should ask Tubbo what he thought, maybe he'd have some advice, he was kind of stuck at the moment.

Feel free to add stuff on my brain just decided to hyperfixate

YO THIS IS DOPE??? (honestly this deserves a post of its own so i won't add on anything) you've fleshed out such an interesting concept Anon, i love your take on this AU!!!

[eavangeek]

Guns and Roses: Ch. 2 - Shartan's Oath

Pairing: Male Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Male Cadash/Cassandra Pentaghast

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: After the Hero of Fereldan in the Dragon Age, The Champion of Kirkwall during the Blood Age, Thedas has been at peace for most of the Silverite Age. However trouble brews between the New Templar Force and the Enchanter Colleges. Agent of Truth, Seeker Pentaghast, has been sent to the Free Marches city of Ostwick to investigate why they have been unaffected by the rise in violence...

Tags: FtM Cadash, Trans Character, Mob Boss/Secret Agent, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Identity, Minor Character Death, Mild Gore

Total Word Count:  103,884

Chapter Word Count: 2,521

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Author’s Masterlist || Ao3 Fic Link || Ao3 Author Link

Twitter || Patreon

The morgue was not meant to be comforting. It was here that people would be brought down to identify loved ones, where Chantry Brothers would help with the cremation of the faithful, Vashoth and Elves collect their family remains to do with as their separate faiths required, and would be necromancers haggle for the uncollected, the unwanted, and the unloved to use for personal experiments.

Cassandra felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The morgue in Ostwick burned an incense similar to those in the Necropolis. It must be comforting to some, but it was not to her. Thankfully the anesthetic smell overpowered the incense in the examination rooms. The forensic on duty was a Tevinter man, his oval glasses hanging off the edge of his nose. His assistant, a Dalish if the markings on their neck and cheeks were correct, was helping him.

“Ah, Commissioner Rutherford and,” a pause as the Forensic look first at Cassandra face and then her badge, “Miss Seeker Pentaghast. My, My! It has been ages since I heard the name Pentaghast. I suppose my little corner of the world reminds you of home, doesn’t it?” He smiles, showing teeth yellowed from chain smoking. His assistant rolled their eyes, working on peeling back the skin on a corpse that looked to have been dumped in the local mines.

“How can I help you two on this very fine Tuesday.”

“We’re here to inspect the John Doe with the missing thumb.”

“John Doe, John Doe, hmmm…. Andruil? Do you know a John Doe by chance? One that lacks a thumb?”

“Of course, sir. I can show them the body, I already did an autopsy on him.”

“Splendid, Andruil! I’ll finish that one on the table, now go on. Impress our guests!”

The dalish elf put down their scalpel and walked towards one of the walls in the back. The forensic started to hum a death march. The body was in locker D23, and the elf went to go look for the rest of his clothing in evidence. Cassandra noticed that his lower jaw was missing as well, but considering the rest of the head it was not put on the reports.

“Here’s his clothes. When I was taking them off the body I found this business card in his front pocket. Or what remained of it anyway. It’s for a florist shop in the Old Alienage District.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know the shop, would you?” Cullen asked

“I know the tattoo parlour next door to it. My uncle went there to get his vallaslin touched up. They have a traditionalist there, but they mostly do Sailor and Dwarven styles. The manager is a city elf who does piercings, but the owner is supposed to be Half-Dalish.”

“I didn’t think The People accepted ‘Half-Dalish’”. Cassandra said

“In Orlais or the Frostbacks they might not. But this is Ostwick, Miss Seeker. Still, pretty sure my uncle was being crude, I’m sure the owner is actually Dalish, just does business with Shemle- sorry, with humans.”

“Thank you, Andruil.”

“That’s not my name, Commissioner. My name is Sabrae, of Clan Lavellan.”

“Thank you, Sabrae. Please report that your supervisor is not calling you by your name. I don’t want this precinct to go backwards.”

The dalish blinked, and then nodded. Cassandra felt a swell of pride from Cullen’s actions. However, she knew from experience that the young elf wouldn’t file the report. Cassandra turned to inspect the body as Sabrae walked away from them.

“Tell me what you see, Cassandra.”

“It’s just as you said, smashed in head, most likely down with a warhammer of some kind. He’s missing his lower jaw as well, and it looks like someone may have taken the time to pull out his teeth before giving the killing blow. As for his hands… Missing left thumb. Strange, he has a bomb and a small rune tattooed on his right middle and forefinger. If he was a miner, he might have been an artificer. Starkhaven artificers have the same markings, though they use rings and not tattoos. Look, his hands were tied together. He struggled against the restraints- check his feet.”

“Same bruising... So our John Doe was tortured before killed. If they pulled out his lower jaw, that must have been down post mortem, or after they got what they wanted.”

“Autopsy says poor liver and kidneys, so a heavy drinker. But it also states that the kidneys were bruised and his right lung is collapsed.”

Cassandra took out her phone and snapped a photo of the dwarf’s right hand. She also took a photo of the business card. The card read “The Snapdragon of Ostwick- Unique Boutiques for the Gentle Freaks. Open Mon-Sun 10 am- 4 pm. 24 Loc Muinne, Old Alienage District”

“Care for a drive? I think I might have our lead.” Cullen grinned, as if this was the most fun he’s had in months.

During the drive down, Cullen talked about the Old Alienage District. How nearly thirty years ago it had all been burned down by city elves; their reasoning? Gentrification. Most elves still lived in the District, but when specialist stores and clothing franchises started buying out blocks, rent spiked. The homelessness problem escalated and the ones who were hit the worst were the elves and surface dwarves with no Noble ties. It was lead by a woman name Scoia’Tael of Ostwick, just an average city elf, and her dwarven counterpart. There is little to no records of the two, most of the information about both gaining fame similar to the Boni and Klyde cases of 10:32 Blood. Today, rent is controlled in the area, and while there are still several specialist shops in the district, they’re owned and run by those who live in the area. When the city gave in, Scoia’Tael disappeared. The local Red Jennies claimed ownership of her, many still going by the name or an abbreviation of it.

“It’s made patrolling the area difficult, but just between us? It keeps most of the people in Noble and Upper district away from there. The less nobles that go into the district, the less crime that happens overall. It’s not perfect, hell it’s chaotic. But the Red Jennies don’t hit their own home base.”

“It almost sounds like you admire the Jennies.”

“What? No! Well, a little. Only in this one instance. What are you laughing for? This isn’t funny, do you know how many times I get a report on my desk saying that the Red Jennies have spray painted a vagina on my patrol cars? At least three times a week!”

They had pulled up to 24 Loc Muinne. It had a front parking lot, only enough for one row of cars. A small median strip separated traffic flow with elevated flower beds. Instead of poppies, buttercups or daisies, there was Elfroot and Andraste Grace. Medical Herbs. Cassandra thought it was odd, but Cullen didn’t pay it any mind. He took off his badge and threw it into the glove compartment of the car. She wished he’d take off his parka, since he was more recognized by that than the badge.

The tattoo parlour sat right next to the florist, and it was obvious where one started and the other ended. Flower beds sat in front of the florist, but the same beds had been replaced with mailboxes in front of the tattoo parlour and a smoking bin was on the far side. The sign for the tattoo parlour had a painted black sword with a brass crown on the hilt. “Shartan’s Oath” was written just below the blade, followed by “Tatts and Piercings”. A sign on the window read “We do touch-ups!” The windows were painted, depicting a dark forest and wolves around the edges. The florist shop had a Dragon with the head of the namesake flower. It was a gaudy green and pink scales, resting on the name of the shop, the paint faded orange, almost yellow. Cassandra scoffed at the visual pun of the “Snapdragon”, but noticed that instead of keeping customer privacy through window murals, there was shelves shaped like honeycombs, showing products that were sold. Creams, Scarves, Candles, Hand pressed flowers on cards, and yes, honey that was made from certain pollen.

“So Cullen, you choose. Tattoo, or Flower Shop?”

“Let’s get the needles out of the way first.”

The desk clerk for the tattoo parlour was Vashoth, one of his horns broken off and capped, with a small silver bell at the end. Their arms were covered in Vitaar-like tattoos. He pointed Cassandra and Cullen to an artist named Burok, his beard done in two long braids, matching his hair.

“Sorry officers, I’ve done dozens of artificer markings. Usually on elves though, they like playing with fire if you know what I mean.” He winked and went back to sketching a design for someone’s back.

“What about a dwarf, maybe a worker at the local mine.” Cassandra asked

“Well now let’s see. I’ve been doing this for, oh, 8 years? Been here since Tael re-opened shop. But I don’t-”

“Wait, Tael? As in… that Tael?” Cullen whispered, his surprise obvious. Cassandra raising her eyebrow at the man.

“Nah, but close I’m sure! I was living in Ansburg when those burning were going on, but anyways. I was saying. Don’t know about any miner but had a driver come through. Imagine! Dwarf driver, but hey! Wasn’t gonna complain. Oh but that was a few years back, might be three? Do you have a photo of his face, I’m great with faces.”

“Sadly, no.” Cassandra said. “If there is anyone else who might be able to help us please contact me through this number.” She handed the artist a small, plain business card with her name and phone number. Nothing about her job or address.

“Yeah, sure thing miss- wow that’s Nevarran- Pentaghast. Hey boss!”

Cassandra turned to see an elf woman standing at the door. She wore a sleeveless hoodie, her hair a vibrant red, shaved close on the sides. Her pupils were yellow- no an incredibly pale brown, and she had three rows of piercings on both ears.

“You two, follow me.” Her accent was thick, definitely a local. Cullen followed the woman without hesitation, but something about her unnerved Cassandra. She hesitated, but the artist chuckled.

“Yeah, she has that effect on people. Don’t worry she doesn’t bite.” Burok smiled at Cassandra. She nodded at the dwarf and followed the Commissioner.

The woman’s office was plain, nothing personal except the deathroot leaves and and rashvine drying. A small prayer table sat in the corner, Andraste on the stake the only thing similar to Cassandra. There were other small shrines, two bowls of burning incense and a a miniature black sword, identical to the sign outside; the sword sat in a bowl of water. Cullen closed the door behind her, and the woman sat at the desk. She put her legs up on the corner of the desk, her bare feet clean.

“Sit.”

Cassandra sat down in the chair across from her. Cullen looked around and then took a seat in the worn couch by the door. Books were strewn about the surface of the desk, most of them covered in scratchings about sales and purchase for equipment. A corkboard was on the wall to the left, directly across the entrance. It had a timetable for the next two weeks, including booked appointments and who was working. It was a regular office, minus the deadly herbs and the assorted shrines on the prayer table.

“What is the new police commissioner and a Seeker Agent doing in my parlour asking about artificer markings.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Cullen opened his mouth to talk.

“Shut up.” He immediately closed his mouth at the glare the elf- Tael, if Cassandra guessed- gave him. She didn’t have any grey hair, but the corners of her eyes were wrinkled. Cassandra put her in her late 40’s, just turning 50 at the most. The woman moved her gaze to her, probably expecting Cassandra to talk.

“We’re trying to identify the owner of this hand.” Cassandra showed the photo she took at the morgue.

“Was the head too ugly for you take a photo of?”

“There was no head.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, the crow's feet becoming more pronounced. She grinned, showing off sharp canines that were common among elves.

“Liar.” Her eyes looked yellow for a moment, sending a chill down Cassandra’s spine. The woman leaned back in her chair, her eyes going back to the light brown they were before. She wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or if this woman was... something else.

“He had the business card of your neighbor, the Snapdragon. What can you tell us about the owner.”

“Kallak? He’s half-dalish.”

“There’s no such things as a half-dalish.”

“You haven’t met Kallak.”

“Kallak, that’s a dwarven word.” Cullen butted in

Tael glared at him and then turned her attention back to Cassandra

“We do a lot of tattoos. We do a lot of piercings too. You won’t find anything here. Go next door, that’s where you were going, wasn’t it?”

She stood up and opened the door. She snapped ‘Out’ at Cullen, who quickly got up and left the parlour. Cassandra took her time getting up from her chair. She looked at Tael, who was at least a two feet shorter than her. The elf woman grinned again and did a mock bow, leaving the room before Cassandra. The desk clerk waved at Cullen as he walked past and exited the parlour. Cassandra turned around and took the business card for ‘Shartan’s Oath’.

“We do religious tattoos as well, Miss. Anything from Avaar to Andrastian. Just make an appointment with one of our artists and we’ll see what we can create!” The Vashoth had a silverite tooth, his round face kinder than his boss. Cassandra thanked him and walked out, seeing Cullen standing outside the Florist shop. She shook her head at him.

“I got the feeling she knew you.”

“What makes you say that?” Cullen grew red in face, messing with his hair again.

“Just a guess.” Cassandra chuckled.

They opened the door to the floral shop; an ancient oak cabinet was displaying the same products that were in the windows. In the front of the shop, there were display holders for flower arrangements. Some hanged on ledges, while others were in vases, but that was not the strangest part of them. Sunflowers were arranged with red cabbage leaves, Lilies and Royal Elfroot in brown paper, Dawn Lotus and Aloe Vera Leaves together wrapped in newspaper. They were not traditional in any sense of the word.

An elf in yellow plaid and a red dress was behind the counter, making a new arrangement. She looked up to see Cullen and Cassandra, then immediately spotted Cassandra badge. Her eyes widened and she went running into the back.

“Well, that could have gone worse.” Cullen remarked.

[mythgirlimagines]

I hope that you like this more obscure talentswap! This fast-talking mile-a-minute lass lives for all there is to do with justice, for she is Myth, the Former Ultimate Stenographer!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Being born to two hard-working pervayors of justice (attorneys, in fact), Myth always witnessed her parents getting justice served to the people who deserved it, and always wished to follow in their footsteps, so she would always write what her parents said in the court, so she could use it as future reference. Some of the court officials noticed this, and offered to give this girl a position as the court’s professional stenographer, and you better believe she wears that title like a badge of glory, and performs to the highest of capabilities. Myth’s supreme skill in stenographing earned her a spot on the Hope’s Peak roster as the Ultimate Stenographer, and even in her adult years, she is still working hard every day to record the words uttered by the justice system that she holds ever so dear to her heart. But her best friend forced her to take the next couple of weeks off, and chaperone this years Ultimates and Jr. Ultimates.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Kickboxer

Despite being only two inches taller than their friend, Wyre dominated foes way bigger than them, thanks to their strong and wild kicking, which is enough for them to be considered a champion and caused them to earn their position as the Ultimate Kickboxer, and they are still going strong in their adult years. Despite their rough appearance and her equally rough demeanor and behavior, their criminal record is squeaky clean, and for that reason, Myth and Wyre have been only the best of friends for years and years. Wyre is also the only one who can understand Myth’s fast-talking and shorthand speech, and the only person who can stop Myth from over working herself and stressing herself out over minor details. 

Outfit: An orange and sleeveless hoodie over a bandage-wrapped chest, chains on her neck and wrist, sweatpants that match her hoodie, nothing on her feet.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Puppeteer 

As the mastermind and creative genius behind famous horror web series told exclusively through expertly-crafted marionettes and props, and a creepy voice acting as the narrator, Scar commonly calls herself ”The Narrator”, “The Disembodied Voice”, or, most notably of all, “The Puppetmaster”. Oddly enough, despite puppeteering for specifically in the horror genre, and wearing clothes that would be right at home on a cursed and possessed Victorian-era doll, Scar is actually quite the softie in real-life, often acting like a concerned mother to the other Kibo-Con attendees. Scar’s creepy appearance immediately scared Myth away, much to the dismay of the puppet enthusiast.

Outfit: A red beret on her head, cracks drawn on her face making her resemble a haunted doll, a black and white gothic-Lolita style dress, black and white striped stockings, brown platform heels.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Waiter

Garnering fame all around his hometown for his ability to hold several plates of food all at once, while roller-skating simultaneously, Fusion is a waiter at the “Squeaky-Clean Spoon”, a 60s style diner run by his parents and grandparents, that is famous for their chili dogs and selection of songs on their personal jukeboxes. With their shared love for punctuality in their respective duties and their shared concern for their conmates, you would think that the two would get along perfectly. However, Myth caught wind of a certain skeleton in Fusion’s closet, and hasn’t forgiven Fusion since. Fusion desperately wishes to reconcile with his senpai, even if he is siding with an acclaimed thief.

Outfit: A white dress shirt, a red, yellow, and blue striped tie, a red and white apron, white gloves, red and white four-wheel roller-skates, glasses and pants from his original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Thief

As a youngster, Fusion II was born and raised on the streets, and had to steal and loot from any house and store that she happened upon, in order to survive in this dog-eat-dog world. Her natural stealth and clever mindset helps her evade her captors and makes her only the perfect thief. However, a couple of months prior, Fusion II was caught stealing from The Squeaky-Clean Spoon by the owners, and was offered a place to stay at the diner, in exchange for working as one of the diner’s chefs. Because Fusion II and Myth are on opposite sides of the law, they both have a massive grudge against each other, making Fusion II the person Myth gets along with the worst.

Outfit: A black-leather jacket over a pink undershirt, blue-ripped jeans with the same apron as Fusion tied over it, tall black boots, sunglasses from the original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Tutor 

Tired of his constant truancy, in spite of his stunning genius, Janon’s teachers have forced him to tutor his kohais, as compensation for all of the school days he missed and as a way to learn what actual work feels like. Because Janon can memorize entire textbooks worth of information, he uses all of this knowledge in order to tutor the school children of his neighborhood. While he does equally as well of a job with students older than him, Janon is notably harsher on them, compared to children (his one weakness and soft-spot). Janon shows zero respect for any of his senpais, particularly the stick-up-her-butt stenographer. Myth is oddly intrigued by Janon’s quick retaining of info.

Outfit: The same formal wear that he wears underneath his hoodie from his original design, with a long pink scarf wrapped around his neck (which was knitted by one of his kohais), reading glasses.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Tap Dancer

The famed star of the Spectacular Sparkling Spotlight (or Troupe S3, for short) Dance Troupe, Sparkle and the other girls of her dance-oriented musical theatre troupe are all skilled at all sorts of dance styles, but as her title would suggest, Sparklw (and the rest of her troupe) mainly specializes in tap dancing. A combination of her loud voice, style and grace on the stage, and the sheer amount of knowledge on the world of performing and theatrics, made Sparkle the perfect person to lead her troupe into worldwide stardom. At first, Myth was scared off by Sparkle’s loud and commandeering tone, but eventually (even if she won’t admit it), the skittish stenographer has warmed up to Sparkle.

Outfit; A black and white tuxedo with a matching hat/headband on top of her hair, white gloves, black and pink tap shoes, a sparkly black and white cape, a cane she carries at all times, glasses from her original design.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Graffiti Artist, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Tailor

Egg and Wet Sock are a pair of twins best known for their differently-applied artistic genius. Egg, the older and more physically-gifted (but not particularly bright or sensible) of the two, specializes in colorful and eye-grabbing graffiti, with or without permission from commissioners. Wet Sock, the more brooding and withdrawn (yet equally as cursed) of the two, specializes in custom-made and fitted clothes, particularly those of the emo subculture. Egg’s jokey nature and morally dubious talent puts them at odds with Myth, meaning that, out of the twins, Myth gets along better with Wet Sock, despite their strange and frightening attachment to knives and regularly pulling them out.

Egg’s Outfit: Green-tinted goggles, a splattered bandana covering their nose and mouth, a black tanktop, green cargo pants, black gloves, spray can holsters and boots.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: A simple black and white tuxedo, accessorized with sewing supplies.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Soccer Player

The otherwise ragtag soccer team of Star Summit Co-Ed Middle School has a secret ace up their sleeve, and that ace’s name is Curious Anon. Curious‘s sheer leg strength combined with his strategic mindset and game-breaking power made them popular among soccer fanatics everywhere and makes them truly earn the title of Ultimate Soccer Player. Despite their stoic and permanent game face frightening opponents, as any of their teammates would tell you, Curious is surprisingly kind-hearted and is easy to get along with. Curious’s honest and upfront nature seems to help calm Myth’s nerves, when she chooses to interact with the easygoing middle school soccer star. 

Outfit: A green and white soccer uniform with black cleats.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Skateboarder 

On the other end of the jock scale, we have Anon Nerd, the jerkish and hyper-aggressive Ultimate Skateboarder, and the eldest of the Kibo-Con roster. Because of his less-than-stellar and hyper-violent upbringing, Nerd took it to the skatepark to vent his frustrations with half-pipe tricks. All the time spent at the skatepark made his skateboarding skills escalate and escalate, until he became a pro-skateboarder in his teen years, and eventually the Ultimate Skateboarder. Because of their close-to-opposite personalities, Myth and Nerd don’t get along well in the slightest. Unfortunately, they’ve both developed feelings for each other, that they’ve never experienced before.

Outfit; Hair in a Mohawk with red and black dyed tips, a black tank-top with a bloody skull illustration on the front, black cargo shorts with sheered bottoms, black socks and white sneakers, tattoos on his arms.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Public Speaker

Wanted to wake up the gullible sheep in the world, Eldritch quickly mustered up the confidence (thanks to several online confidence seminar marathons) to go in front of a crowd, and scream at them about all the terrible state the world is currently in, and how they’re all mindless corporate zombies, to let all of those atrocities slide. Despite his reputation as an overzealous Debbie Downer by many of his detractors, he has many fans for his loud and passionate voice and his regular use of peer-reviewed facts, making his speeches far more reliable than they seem. Eldritch’s anti-government attitude puts him at odds with Myth’s heavily pro-government mindset.

Outfit: Neatly combed hair, a black polo shirt with a green pixel design on the bottom, an orange tie, black pants and matching loafers.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Cadet

Despite her sunny and positive attitude clashing heavily against her strict and stoic military family and the rest of her squadron, no one can deny that Dream is a spectacular cadet towards her squadron. She can also play quite the mean bugle. With Dream and Myth opposite temperaments and interactions with others, you‘d be surprised to learn that they have two common point: their shared love of war history and respect for the government. They often like talking about war strategy and re-enacting old wars throughout history, using Dream’s collectible toy soldiers. These activities are one of the few times Myth‘s walls are let down in front of anybody, apart from Wyre.

Outfit: Hair in two small pigtails, a dark green and light green army helmet, black facepaint, a jumpsuit that matches her helmet, black boots with yellow soles.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Cellist

Ever since she was little, thanks to her musician parents (a guitarist father and a violinist mother), Iris has been exposed to music, and eventually chose to follow in her parent’s footsteps with her favorite instrument: the cello. Unfortunately, because of her dislike of crowded spots, Iris couldn’t join an orchestra like she (and her parents) wanted to, so she opted to simply play her cello from home and upload her music online. Regardless of her fears and anxieties, Iris always tries her best to remain positive. Iris may not understand what the hell Myth is even saying, but she always tries her best to strike conversation with her senpai, in hopes that the stenographer can open up. 

Outfit: Silver music note hairpins, a blue denim jacket with silver music note buttons over a black dress with white string designs in the middle, dark grey leggings, dark blue Mary Janes, glasses from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Class Representative

Purple is a student from one of the most prestigious and high-class schools in all of the country, and despite her timid personality, thanks to her strong work ethic and her kind-hearted nature, she managed to secure a position in the school’s hierarchy as the representative of her class. Because of her overly formal and heavily outdated mode of speech that’s more at home with the other students at her uppercrust school, she usually requires a translator (usually Fusion) to make her speech comprehensible to the middle-class conmates. Myth and Purple quickly bonded in true incomprehensible glory, and regularly have conversations that no one but Wyre and Fusion can understand.

Outfit: A black overcoat over a white dress shirt and a red tie, a purple skirt, dark grey stockings, and red Mary Janes, topped off by a red armband on her right arm.

The series centers around the skittish stenographer learning to give potential criminals the chance for redemption.

——————————————————-

PERSONALITY

Stenographer!Myth is renowned upon the justice system for her efficiency in the court and the stoic face she puts on, upon entering a court environment, able to capture speech right down to the tiniest of breaths. But off of the court, she’s the complete opposite, for her speech is about as speedy, jumbled, and incomprehensible as her writing, often requiring Kickboxer!Wyre to translate for her. Stenographer!Myth is often very jittery, when interacting with others, and almost never relaxes or slows down to take a breather. She has zero time for playing or joking around, for a stenographer’s work is never done, and justice never sleeps. Her moral compass and sense of justice is practically removable, which makes sense, considering the environment she lives in. This puts her at odds with people such as Theif!Two. She’ll never admit it, but Stenographer!Myth really cares about each and every one of the Kibo-Con attendees, but she’ll never admit it, for fear of being made fun of or being taken advantage of by a potential criminal hiding amongst the crowd.

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APPEARANCE

Stenographer!Myth has brown hair that reaches her tailbone and wears the same uniform that she wears to court. The uniform consists of a pink headband with a heart pin given by her mother, a blue jacket over a pink dress shirt and a gold pendant with an amethyst in the center, a skirt that matches her jacket, black leggings and ruby red Mary Janes. She carries a stenography machine with her, at all times.

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Phew! I’ve finished this week’s quota! I hope you like this talentswap! Let me hear your opinions on this AU! 

-Fusion Anon

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Half Baked Idea a Little More Baked

Right, so the other day I posted Half Baked Idea even though I wasn’t happy with how underdeveloped it was. But yesterday, due to mind numbing boredom at work, the idea went back in the oven and has come out a little more baked, so see how you like this!

Aliens invaded Earth years ago to try and repopulate as the two are compatible, but they usually need multiple mates, except for Thomas Wayne; he denied his soulmate when he fell in love with Martha Kane. Thomas’ mission was to take control of Gotham but when he met Martha, he hoped for a more peaceful co-habitation. Problems arise when Martha gets pregnant.

Knowing his child would be the mate of those who would conquer Gotham, Thomas told everyone, even his old friend and war buddy Alfred that the child was male and stillborn while giving the baby to a human he trusted; Patrick Gordon, who had a son the same night. The same night Bruce Wayne is declared stillborn, Patrick and Maria Gordon have twin babies, James and Bryce.

Now, even among the Aliens, there are Omegas and there are Alphas, and everyone gets a Soul Identifying Mark at 13 so as to begin courtship. The person’s own mark appears as a large tattoo across the shoulders for Alphas and across the lower back for Omegas and the Soul Mate Mark is a bit smaller.

Years pass and Oswald is trying to figure out how the Resistance keeps fighting against them, even with his top Lieutenants; the Legion of Horribles who are all mated to each other. Jerome and Jeremiah are the leaders, with Jerome’s mark being the trademark smile from the show. Jeremiah’s is a maze that the other’s enjoy trying to figure out in bed. The Chemist of the group is Jonathan Crane, who is treated as the baby of the group being the youngest, and his Soul Mark is a crow. Next is the Enforcer of the group, Bridgit whose Soul Mark rather inspired her weapon of choice; a bonfire, and the group is rather protective of her due to her brothers abuse. Then there are the husband and wife Interrogators who double as the Mommy and Daddy of the group; Nora and her beloved and devoted husband, Victor, who actually have the same Soul Mark of entwined snowflakes. Then there’s the Adviser to the group, Jervis Tetch, who can play with your mind and lock you in a horrible nightmare if you are uncooperative during negotiations, and heaven help you if you insult his March Hare or the White Queen (Nora). His Soul Mark inspired his trademark top hat. Finally, there’s Thomas’ old friend, Alfred Pennyworth who, after falling out with Thomas, joined the Legion of Horribles as their behind the scenes Strategist, his mark is that of a Union Jack. Oswald’s mate, Ed, reasons that it’s because the Legion is incomplete as there is one more mark on each of the Horribles; a bat. Alfred reasons that the mark belonged to Thomas’ son, Bruce Wayne as, even though he never cared for Martha, he often felt drawn to the child growing in her belly. Ed finds it strange that the others are even alive as their species isn’t meant to survive fractured; if one mate dies, the others inevitably follow.

One day, Nora and Jonathan are delivering some supplies to Lee’s clinic, which they Patron so she takes care of their wounds and in return, they help provide some funds to fix up the Narrows. But as Jonathan is dropping off some medicine (and Nora is making sure he didn’t slip any of his tricks in) he sees Lee with someone who’s getting a physical. Normally, Jonathan wouldn’t care one way or the other except this person has a large bat tattoo on their lower back. They leaves before Jonathan or Nora can confront them and, no matter what they offer Lee, they know she’ll never give up her patients.

They rush back to the others to reveal what they found but Victor points out there are thousands of Caucasian brunettes in the city; how can they possibly narrow it down to one person? Especially when the body shape suggested female rather than male? Ed then has a brainstorm; Thomas, around the time his wife was pregnant was showing signs of being sympathetic to the human, and would have noticed Alfred being attached to the unborn child. Is it such a stretch that Thomas would give false information regarding the child, including its sex and claiming it was stillborn?

Ed does some digging and can't help finding it interesting the Gordon's had twins the same night Thomas' son died so they go to investigate the twins. Jim is a Detective who's on the fast track to becoming Captain, possibly even Commissioner, but completely human. Bryce Gordon however, is called the golden girl by everyone; with the Wayne's having no children, when Thomas and Martha died, they left their shares of Wayne Enterprises to the Gordon's, who gave them to Bryce as she was the only one with any business sense. Too bad the board wanted nothing to do with a human female and insisted on buying her out. So what did she do?

Bryce takes the money she got from her shares and opened Gordon Industries and in only a matter of 2 years, she is the main competition of Wayne Enterprises thanks to her innovative ideas. She is a black belt and has awards in Karate, Judo, Kickboxing, Kendo, has degrees in engineering, chemistry, biology, computer sciences, can speak Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Hindi, French, German, Italian, is a renowned chess champion and skilled pilot; whatever she puts her hand to, she's brilliant. There were rumours she was feeling depressed so she started adopting kids (last count was 4, but she's always on the lookout for more apparently). No one knows how she does it, but Jim loves his baby sister and is super protective of her and his nieces and nephews (Jason, Tim, Helena, and Cassandra). The others are curious about this 'Girl Wonder' as the papers dubbed her so they send Victor and Jonathan to investigate. Why those 2? Because no one knows what the Scarecrow looks like and Victor has a neat little trick where he can shed his snow white hair and chemical blue eyes for plain brown hair and eyes, completely different from his normal appearance. They talk and Victor is convinced this playgirl, genius, stepmother billionaire is the missing Bryce Wayne and their mate. Nora is thrilled because Bryce already has 4 kids she can mother while being the Mommy of the group.

The reason Bryce doesn't realizes she's actually half alien is because she's been 'treated' for 'ADHD' since she turned 13. In truth, Papa Gordon arranged with a doctor allied with the Resistance to have her supplied with suppressants; hence the hyperactivity and the desperate need for kids, without the connections she could actually die from loneliness as her species just aren't meant to be loners. They know they have to get rid of those suppressants if Bryce is to feel their connection and live, so they send Alfred as a PA since she’s been through three secretaries this month alone, and this last one she’s only hanging onto because she has a trip to Venice coming up and working for Bryce Gordon ensures major spending money. Problem is, once Alfred manages to replace the suppressants with placebos, Bryce starts feeling over 12 years of depression and loneliness hit her like a freight train. Alfred and the Horribles may have to push up their timeline if they want Bryce to survive.

[pevchpits]

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 "𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠" 𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤. 𝘤𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘩𝘦 /𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭. 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳.

❛ I don't worry, don't worry, don't worry about people in my face I hit 'em with the style and grace, and watch their ankles break ❜

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 . 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 . 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 . 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 . 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 . 𝘥𝘰𝘤.  𝘢𝘭𝘭 . 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘰 ⤵︎

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗔𝗣𝗣.

〔 ian anthony dale, 40, cis man, he/him ) CHARLES “CHUCK” HIRANO was seen listening to BAD BAD NEWS BY LEON BRIDGES on their way to ENVIRONMENTAL ENGINEERING. CHUCK is known to be CREATIVE & STUBBORN.

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗦.

full name: charles hirano nicknames: chuck is his preferred name, charlie can be used on occasion birth date: september 12, 1982 hometown: born in sao paolo, brazil; raised predominantly in vancouver, british columbia, canada ethnicity: european, japanese gender: cis man sexuality: bisexual  religion: agnostic occupation: environmental engineering living situation: home owner  languages: english, various programming languages, fluent japanese and portuguese, conversational french, spanish, and mandarin ( chuck only has his private tutors to thank ) height: 5 ft 11 in / 1.8034 m tattoo(s)/piercing(s): none. clothing style: chuck, despite swearing that appearances mean nothing to him, likes to dress on the nicer side when he’s not on sight. a nice pair of slacks, button downs, and form fitting sweaters are some of his signature pieces.  hobbies: landscaping! not even gardening particularly but landscaping is big for him. building in general ( swing-sets, tree houses, random counter spaces for the kitchen ), anything that involves spending time with his daughter. billards/pool tournaments with friends when he convinces himself he has the time. photography ( especially of his daughter ). he’s played on a few adult recreational league sports teams. reading, predominantly political and/or historical biographies/autobiographies or historical fiction.

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗕𝗜𝗢.

Life was easy growing up: travels, nannies there to pick up the messes he would make, and tutors there to make sure, amongst all the fun, Charles Hirano was still making the grades his parents expected. His life path was set ahead, clearly lined, with no little diversions or side paths left to be traveled. After high-school, it was straight onto one of the various universities his parents had connections to in order to study business or economics, during university he would intern at his parents’ fossil-fuel company, and then when he graduated he would land a gig and climb the ladder. Take his place. Secure the family legacy.

The world may have been at his fingertips, all his for the taking as his father liked to say, but that world was small. Born and raised inside an echo chamber of his parents and their colleagues beliefs that were never challenged in the private school filled with students from families just like his, Chuck thought he had life figured out by the time he first stepped foot on his university’s campus.

His first class, an elective he chose just to fill his required credit load, was an ethics course in urban planning, and by the first week, his entire major and course plan had changed. Ethics courses replaced economics, environmental science courses replaced entrepreneurship, and engineering courses replaced e-commerce. 

By the time his parents realized the switch, it was already to late. They had been too busy dealing with their own business by the time he forwarded the graduation ceremony dates, and Chuck had already snagged a job assisting the city planner and city public health commissioner of Huntsville with short-term and long-term projects for the city. It was a humble gig, and certainly not the one his parents wanted him to take, but Chuck was sold.

[ pregnancy tw ] Once in his new home, it didn’t take long for him to flourish both in his role and social life. He was a bright light with something to prove, and that caught the eyes of his superiors, friends, and who would soon become the mother of his beloved daughter. They started as just friends, as she had been dating one of their mutual friends, but one thing led to a next, and when she went through a horrible break-up, it was Chuck’s shoulder she leaned on. He thought he had found the one, even brought up marriage when he finally made enough to save up for a nice right and nice wedding, so it was the least bit alarming when she found out she was pregnant. The two were happy and excited for this next stage of their life. [ tw end ]

With the promise of marriage in the near future, a new baby girl, and a recent promotion to a full-time environmental engineer for the city, Chuck got comfortable. More effort was put on work and making sure he could build a legacy all his own for his family and eventually save up for that big wedding than on the actual relationships he was working so hard for. By the time his daughter was four, enough was enough. She had fallen out of love, and while it was never explicitly stated, Chuck knew he was the only one to blame.

Years past, and he tried harder both for himself and his daughter. He still has his moments where he’ll get too in his head: dinner will be forgotten about, he’ll be late to picking up his daughter from her mother’s, but he cares, and he’s trying and hoping one day it’ll stick.

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

- character inspiration: sandy cohen from the oc, jacob yi from minari

- feels as if he has a lot to prove, which only intensifies whenever someone finds out what his parents did and where he came from

- fell in love with design/landscaping/engineering type of work earlier than college, he just never realized it. he’d spend hours creating his own little worlds with whatever he could find around house: desert palaces in sand, mud huts with their own mini gardens, and mazes of snow tunnels feeding into various areas around the family backyard

- extremely smart but can often lack ‘common sense’ and forgets things quite easily

- can come off as a bit intense in work spaces but is very laid back in his social life. snarky and sarcastic at times ( most of the time ) sure, but especially with his daughter, chuck wants her to be able to explore and make mistakes and learn from them without the weight of “expectations”

𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦.

platonic. good pals give him a group of friends! friends that he had through his ex that are now in a bit of a awkward situation but still loving. coworkers ( chuck works for the city so anything govt, engineering, outdoorsy probably has some overlap ), fellow parents! teachers! anyone involved in adult sports teams he might’ve run into ( definitely jack-of-all-trades but master of none in sports, likes it for social aspect and competition ) familial. siblings.... we’d have to work on how they got here, but i imagine he was estranged from most of them. his daughter’s family on her mother’s side!  romantic. his ex. maybe one or two dates/flings he’s had to ‘get out there’ since the break-up negative. anyone who might be turned off by his opinionated self! work rivals. anyone angry for how he treated his ex!

[longlivelindanny]

You’re Alive, You’re Alive

Paring: Danny & Linda Reagan

Rating: M

Genre: romance, smut

She didn't know exactly where she was- somewhere in Manhattan, but she had no idea where. She had a feeling, a weird, strong feeling she needed to find someone- a man. She had no idea if she knew the man, but her gut and heart were screaming "find him!" She tried, asking around for him and getting now where since she couldn't produce a name or face or any sort of defining feature or characteristic. Feeling almost defeated, she went into one more bar.

She stood at the bar, talking to the bartender. "Excuse me. I know this is going to sound weird, but I'm looking for a man. I don't know his name or where he lives or what he does, but I need to find him."

"How can you be lookin' for someone you know nothin' about?"

"I don't know." She sighed and looked up at the tv. There on the screen, was a handsome man talking to the press. "Hey! That's him!"

The bartender looked up, "that's the commissioner's son- Danny Reagan's his name."

"Danny Reagan. Do you know where he works, where he lives?"

"Where he works, yeah. Over at the 5-4."

"The five-four? What's that?"

"Have you been livin' under a rock? It's a police station."

"Could you tell me where it is?"

She listened closely to the directions, nodding along, everything sounding vaguely familiar. "Thank you."

She set out on her journey, not knowing at all what to expect. What if this Danny character was married? What if he had kids? Or what if he was sleeping with that pretty Latina standing next to him on the tv screen? The woman had so many questions, questions she craved answers for: the most important one being "who the hell am I?"

**********

"There has to be something we missed," Danny was standing at his desk, shifting through papers strewn haphazardly across the surface.

"We just told the press everything's fine." His partner, Maria Baez, lifted her hand in a shrug.

"We have to lie to the press to keep them at bay. This doesn't seem like a normal murder. It's all too... neat."

"I can head over to the neighbor's again, see if they actually have more to tell us."

"Good idea."

"I'll keep you posted." Baez grabbed her coat and left the building.

"Um, excuse me."

There was a tap on Danny's shoulder and he turned around to face the woman. His heart immediately started pounding for reasons unknown.

"You don't know me, and I don't know you, but... something is telling me to look you up. I think- what's the matter?" She stopped her talking, a look of concern crossing her face. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"What's your name?"

"I don't know."

"Where'd you come from?"

"Somewhere dark and dingy and scary. Jersey, I think."

"How'd you get here?"

"Hitched rides until I came to Manhattan. Asked around about you, and when I got an answer, I came here. Why? Is something the matter?"

"This is going to sound weird, but do you have a tattoo on your ankle? Two Chinese symbols?"

"Those are Chinese?" She plopped her foot on his chair, the skirt she was wearing riding higher up her thigh. "What do they mean?"

"Peace and mind, love and happiness."

"Oh! Those are good things to have."

Danny licked his lips, swallowing hard. He was freaking out, and he was sure it was due to the stress of the case. "This will sound weird again, but... do you have a tattoo, right above your ass? Left side. A puzzle heart, one side blue, the other side purple? The blue has 'Danny' and the purple has 'Linda'?"

"Uh... I don't know."

"Can I check?"

"Here? In front of all these people?"

Why wasn't she protesting him looking in the first place? If she was who he thought she was, she'd protest immediately. "No, back here."

She let him take her hand, and her stomach fluttered. She followed him as they weaves through the detectives and into a back room.

"May I see now?"

"Okay." She turned around and pulled her skirt past her ass, letting rest at her thighs.

There he saw the tattoo, and the scar on her back from the bullet. He backed up until he sat on one of the cots.

She looked behind her, and pulled up her skirt. She walked over to him, "what's wrong? Are you sick?"

"I know who you are."

"Really? Who?"

"You're Linda.... my wife."

"Your wife?" She smiled widely, "alright! My name's Linda?" When he nodded, she continued, "Linda what?"

"Linda Rose O'Shea Reagan. We have two kids: Jack and Sean. Jack's in college, and Sean will graduate high school this year."

"They're so big!"

"Gentleman, too. Like you taught them."

"Danny, if I'm your wife, then why aren't I with you and our boys? Why was I-"

"In New Jersey somewhere?"

Linda nodded, sitting next to him on the cot. A warm feeling filled her chest; it was familiar and comforting, and something she hadn't felt in three years.

"You were airlifting a patient-"

"Nurses don't do that." She interrupted, "how did I know that?"

"They don't, which means the crash and everything was staged. Meaning you were kidnapped for three years, and are now back. But you've got amnesia."

"Amnesia? Is that why I can't remember anything?"

"Yes."

"Where do we live? Will you take me there? How did you know that I'm your wife?"

Danny answered the last question first. "You look exactly like my wife. Only her hair was dyed blonde, and she had cut it a little past her chin." He pushed her long brown hair behind her ear. "And the tattoos. Linda had- you have tattoos like the ones I described, and are on you. You've got a-"

"A what?"

Should he tell her about the bullet in her back? About how she was shot twice? "A scar on your back, sorta near your spine. I'd know those tattoos and scar anywhere. It was your eyes, too. My wife has the most electrifying blue eyes I have ever seen."

She looked into his eyes, again feeling the warmth in her chest, and somewhere decidedly lower. "Are you going to kiss me?"

"Oh, hell yeah." He cupped her cheek with his palm, bringing her lips to his. A sense of relief and euphoria washed over him as she kissed him back; if he had any doubt she wasn't his wife, it was gone now. No one in the world kissed him like Linda kissed him.

Linda didn't want the kiss to end; she hadn't been kissed for three years, and she didn't even remember being kissed before she was taken away from her husband. Her breathing became heavier as the kiss intensified. Reluctantly, they both pulled back for air.

"Danny, you said I was a nurse. I was wearing scrubs before I was able to shower and get a new pair of clothes."

"You were the best nurse... can I take you home?"

"Will you?"

"Yes." He left work with her, leaving no explanation with anybody as to where he had gone off to this time. The drive to the house was a little awkward- what does one say to their dead wife who's actually alive but has no memory of anything?

“Is this it?” Linda looked at the cute home when they pulled up to the driveway.

"Not much, but it's home."

"No, it's cute. Did I live here?"

He swallowed again, "no."

"How come?"

"I'll tell you later." He walked over to her, reaching for her hand.

She wouldn't let him, "tell me now."

"Our old house- there was a fire, and we lived with my Dad for a bunch of months. You died- were kidnapped May 28th. I got this place in August."

"Oh."

"C'mon," he held his hand out again, and this time she took it. "I'll show you around."

Linda listened carefully as he told the story behind the pictures to her. She was filled with love and melancholy, realizing she didn't remember the life she had.

"It looks like a nice life. I wish I could remember it."

"You will. It'll come back to you." Danny frowned when she started to cry. "Don't- don't cry. It'll be alright." He hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth.

When her tears stopped, she quietly asked, "will you take me to the bedroom?"

Danny was surprised to hear that, even though that had been what he wanted to do ever since he discovered that Linda was alive. He led her to the bedroom without a word, and closed the door behind them out of habit. "It's lovely in here, without you."

She smiled at that, "I've missed you. I didn't even know who or what I was missing, when I was gone. But I now I know. It was you.... you protect me, don't you?"

"I didn't protect you from being taken." It was out of his mouth before he could keep it in.

"That wasn't your fault." She had no idea if that was true, but her husband needed reassurance. She stepped up to him, pressing her lips against his in a sweet kiss. She slipped her hand to the back of his head, the other one resting on his chest. The warmth inside her spread much like her husband's warm tongue in her mouth. She knew she missed this, even if she didn't remember it.

Linda moved her hands beneath his jacket, resting them on his shoulders. She took the jacket it off, and it landed on the floor in a crumpled heap. She moaned when Danny took off her cardigan, her hair getting frizzy from the dry air and static electricity.

"I was a blonde?" She nearly whispered, focusing on popping the little white buttons to his powder blue Oxford shirt.

"And a brunette some of the time. But mostly blonde." His shirt joined his jacket on the floor.

"Semper fi," she traced the inking on his chest, above his heart.

"Code of the Marines. Always faithful."

"You're a marine and a cop?"

"Ex-marine."

"Were you honorably discharged?"

Danny thought about his answer- he really wasn't. He could'nt be 'honorably discharged' if he was the only one who made it home. But he didn't want to upset his wife, so he answered, "yeah."

She traced his other tattoo, the Orange one on his right shoulder. "Linda Rose, with a rose."

"That's you." He took her blouse off, then her bra, and they were both half naked, standing in the bedroom.

As sexy as he was, standing there in no shirt and his tie still around his neck, Linda slowly started to remove the tie. "Were we kinky? Did we ever use this tie?"

He thought about being literal, telling her it wasn't that exact tie, but he decided against it. "We were fairly kinky. You liked being constrained."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Interesting..." she pressed against him, sloppily undoing his belt. "Your pants sit low on your hips." With the belt discarded, she dipped her fingers into the waistband. "I like it."

Danny moaned when her hand sunk into his underwear. How he missed this, missed her! He missed everything about her, and was thoroughly convinced all this was a very vivid dream. There was no way he was this lucky, getting his supposedly dead wife back in his arms again.

Linda kissed his neck, nipping at the flesh as she unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper down. Together they kicked their shoes off, with as much ease as they had had before she went away. If they had been sitting, drinking coffee, Danny would have to come up with the impossible task of telling the family all of it was fake. He didn't even know it was fake until an hour ago, and dare he say he was happier than the day he married the Angel?

"Linda," her name escaped his lips as her own found that spot on his neck. He felt his pants slip down to his ankles, and he stepped out of them while tugging Linda's skirt down. He picked her up slightly, away from the skirt, and sat on the bed. She straddled him, both of them in only underwear.

"Is this a rule?" She whispered nearly breathily, sending more heat through her husband's body.

"What?" He started kissing her jaw, palming her breasts with his hands. He smirked at the moan that came from her when he tugged on a pert nipple.

"The... the mutual taking off of- ah!- of clothes?" She barely got the question out, mostly focused on how she was pressed against him.

"Unwritten rule."

Her "Oh" turned into a low, dirty groan in the back of her throat as Danny's fingers tapped the front of her underwear. He dragged his finger across the dampening fabric, nipping at her collarbone. "Danny..."

"What is it? What do you want?" How easily he fell back into one of her favorite bedroom games.

"Touch me." She moved her hips, her core rubbing against his fingers. "More."

Danny obliged, feeling his underwear tighten further as he felt Linda's now wet undies. He scratched at them, pleased her eyes closed and her mouth dropped open. "Your wearing too many clothes."

As he hooked his fingers in the band of her underwear, she answered, "you too."

Clumsily, they rid of their underwear, and soon she was sitting on his lap again, fabric barriers gone. A curse fell from her lips when she felt him against her. It had been years since she was this happy, this pleasure stricken. It felt fantastic and very, very new all at the same time.

Danny's fingers found her entrance, and he teased her by doing the 'come here' gesture. She rolled her hips, signaling she wanted more. He slipped one finger inside her, then quickly added another, her choppy breaths hot against his ear. Only for a moment or two did Danny stop the movements. He faltered slightly when Linda's hand wrapped around his aching length. He moaned her name, and she kissed that spot beneath his ear, moving her hand up and down.

He had had about thirty seconds to think on how this would go. He was pleased how easily it was going, as if Linda hadn't been taken away from him at all. It had the feeling of a normal nooner. He pulled his fingers out, picking her up and laying her on the bed.

Linda attached her lips to his, her hand still pumping his length. He moaned in her throat, and she knew she was so close. Her toes curled as he started kissing his way down her body; a filthy sound came from her mouth when he pressed his lips against her heat. She was breathing through her mouth as shocks or pleasure pealed through her body, "Danny."

He lifted his head slightly, "yes?"

"I want you... inside me."

He complied, pressing himself into her until she whimpered. He stopped quickly, knowing that whimper wasn't one of pleasure. "Linda?" He swept her hair from her face.

"I... it's been a bit."

He felt stupid for not thinking about that. He found her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Tell me if it's too much?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand. They locked eyes as he slid fully into her, and for a few moments, the sting was enough to make her cry. Then she got used to it, and kissed him, murmuring into his mouth to continue.

She found her high first, screaming out his name. He followed her, the old habit of making sure she was happy first, still with him. After another round in the shower, they laid together beneath the covers.

Linda traced nonsense patterns on his chest, her eyelids getting heavy. "That was fabulous."

Danny chuckled and kissed her head. "I'm so glad you're back. You have no idea- I was..." he had wondered when the tears of joy would hit him.

Linda lifted her head, "you're sad?"

"No, I'm so happy." He crushed her against him, hugging her tightly. "You're alive, you're alive. And it's real."

[portela-diez]

Draft Ratings - Fantasy EPL 2021

Yes, spent way too much time on this. But it had to be done.

Draft Rating: C+

-        Overview: Big Greenery. The name says it all. Bradley AKA “Ted Lasso” went for power with this year’s draft. Mr. Lasso may have found a loophole in the current fantasy format and will surely look to win his key battles in the air. With the likes of Van Dijk, Wan B, Tyrone Mings, Declan, Bissouma, Jannik, and the monstrous Benteke, you know that racking the 0.5’s Aerial Duels will occur week in and week out. The towering prowess of the squad may nod a couple baggers, but will certainly score a few own goals. However, it must be said, do not underestimate the man that may consider “football” his 5th favorite sport to watch and made the 2015 playoffs final.

-        Threat: Benteke

-        Sleeper: Mbuemo (hate saying that word)

-        Last remark: Healthy status of the entire squad is the only reason there is (+) tailing the C rating.

Draft Rating: B-

-        Overview: You would think being an Arsenal fan, Chasqui would hedge his bets, learn from past mistakes, and keep Arsenal picks to a minimum. But it seems like the true gunner spirit can never be suppressed. Nor relied on. Despite having the best defender in the league, this squad seems to lack depth and the almighty 90-minute studs. What IS going for him, though, is his new team name. With an updated name like Chasqui, and a fresh tattoo to match, this manager will never let a shitty draft ruin his year!

-        Threat: Emi Martinez

-        Sleeper: Ivan Toney

-        Last remark: Chasqui, the Peruvian messenger will surely have a message for me after this gets published.

Draft Rating: A

-        Overview: This team may have it all. His Kinko’s cheat sheet print out may have proven to be a wise move. Unlike Chasqui, Jon Fryer wants to improve on previous historical mishaps. Did he choose Man City players? Most definitely. But, did he pick the seemingly obvious Cityzen starters this year? Absolutely, mate. On top of that, the dark tabloid freaks still say HurriKANE has a chance at wearing his colors this year. Either way, his #1 pick guarantees goals. With a sneaker Shaw #2 pick, a late Auba #5 pick, and even a #9 Wilson pick, Jon Fryer may have decent season. However, wildcard Jonnie may need to be wary of the new FAAB spending budget. He has the tendencies to go all in, so let’s hope City doesn’t sign anyone else during the transfer window close, for his own sake.

-        Threat: Harry Kane

-        Sleeper: Milot Rashica

-        Last remark: Please get a new team name. Barn!

Draft Rating: B+

-        Overview: jvdV has 2 laws in managerial handbook: (1) Being the staunch defender that he is in REAL life, he will always draft 6 defenders. And there will always be a Ben Mee type player somewhere in there focalizing his back line. (2) Allan Saint Maximin and Richarlison belong to him. This man does not care if he picks them up in 2nd and 3rd round. They are his, do not even attempt to trade. The day that jvdV does not get to manage this pair, the world may slowly stop spinning, and begin spinning backwards.

-        Threat: Romelu Lukaku

-        Sleeper: None (lol)

-        Last remark: The Vardy Party is always on, it never stops.

Draft Rating: B-

-        Overview: Welcome to the league Phil! Now let’s talk about Cesc. The “Brentford” of the league, this wiz have may have a novato stamp on his forehead, but he surely has the tendency to turn his analytical art into a full blown legendary Leeds squad, capable of knocking down the top dawgs. With his Bundesliga 2 turtleneck, his never-before-seen data spreadsheet, and his Mount/Coufal/Harrison picks, this manager does not seem like he is here to mess about. Upon squad review, gaps exist. So much so, that at the time of this notation, he has already dropped 4 players. Best of luck to the Welsh gentleman!

-        Threat: Mason Mount

-        Sleeper: Leon Bailey

-        Last remark: No one tell him that he has to actually wake up sometimes early on weekends, cuz that boy can sleep!

Draft Rating: A+

-        Overview: Ellis got the Poodle Magic that every manager desires on draft day. Despite drafting a potentially injury-ridden Eze (that he was completely blind to), the team takes the cake from the sheer looks of it. The best pundits will tell you to snatch a premier defender in the 1st couple rounds, but the lad from Shrewsbury selfishly robbed all with 2, followed by a Werner and Rashford 5th / 6th round out. On top of all that, he commendably offered Jimenez a spot on his team. Not only a great manager, but charitable. Hats off.

-        Threat: Thomas Soucek

-        Sleeper: Patson Daka

-        Last remark: Hopefully the Wolves’ wingbacks don’t whip in too many crosses to the Mexi talisman. Feet only.

Draft Rating: C

-        Overview: Little did we know but looks like Evan may have some long-lost family in Leeds! That, or, he has a lot of trust in Bielsa. With 4 players from Leeds, and interestingly so, this team may have a similar level of volatility. A quick peek at the crystal ball will tell you that this team’s future has lots of massive point hauls with demanding victories, surely, but the hangovers could be worse, just like mine from yesterday’s draft. With a couple depth tweaks, the team may take him out from beneath the bottom of the barrel.

-        Threat: Jack Grealish (or Chris Wood, actually)

-        Sleeper: Kalvin Philips

-        Last remark: If you don’t get a couple quick victories and bounce from last season, then you may always walk alone.

Draft Rating: A-

-        Overview: Sonless is no longer sonless. Last season proved to be difficult without his star man, so he’s gone the extra mile this year to snatch him quick and change his luck. The question is… how will his #1 pick perform if his lethal strike partner vanishes off to another club? Time will tell. Until then, his defensive moves were that of an astute gaffer. His midfield will demand set plays and minutes. And his attack is good enough to pop him into the upper half off the table.

-        Threat: Son

-        Sleeper: Ibrahima Konate

-        Last remark: Lewis Dunk is a world class defender. Anyone that disagrees is an imposter.

Draft Rating: A-

-        Overview: Some may say he has the advantage living 10 hours ahead in Tel Aviv, where he gets to drink pints during matches without remorse under the shadows of the moon, compared to the rest of us that have to feel the wrath of our girlfriends hearing our 6AM Saturday alarm clocks, but either way, he is the reigning champ with the #1 pick.  Anyone with Bruno Fernandes is destined for greatness. It’s just the way it is. Throw in the likes of the Tarkowski commander, the rough diamond of Benrama, and a triggering Leicester midfield, and this gaffa may be super gluing his hands to the imaginary cup.

-        Threat: Bruno Fernandes

-        Sleeper: Adam Armstrong

-        Last remark: Will the Zern ever give up on Hudson Odoi to make his big splash? Don’t stay awake for this one!

Draft Rating: A+

-        Overview: The fact of the matter is gold talks. Even though he is undoubtedly the best fantasy manager, he has yet to get 1st place. EVER. Call it the commissioner’s curse. But this year, things are different. You know why? Because Messi left Barcelona. This will crack the plates, shift the fault lines, and force his misfortunes to flip over into luck. Somehow, with 4th pick, he landed last years PFA player of the year, KDB. Likewise with a 11th Ziyech pick. That already has to mean something. The only reason this rating did not get A++, is because his team may be heavily relying on some unknown sleepers. That, and he never picks a solid backline, which directly translates to his lack of defending in REAL life. But that’s just his game!  

-        Threat: KDB

-        Sleeper: Cucho Hernandez

-        Last remark: If he were to rely less on players that speak Latin-rooted languages, then he may actually have a chance.  

[a-student-out-of-time]

this entire blog has become a little bit too detailed for me to follow. So much interconnected plot and events.

//Sorry about that. I’m having a great time writing all these interconnected plot elements and gambits and I understand it can get a little confusing to follow ^^;

//Here’s the quick rundown of as of now (July 14th, 2012):

Quantum Crew: Composed of Hajime (using the pseudonym “Kasugano”), Chiaki, Mikan, Umeko, Yoruko, Sonia, Gundham.

Hajime and Yoruko are time travelers from the year 2017. All the others are from the current year (2012) but know that these two are time travelers. The Voids, aka The Children of Utsuro: Nikei, Iroha, Hajime M., and Emma. All of them are working with Kasugano, but they don’t know who he really is or who else is working for him, aside from Chiaki.

Monaca is also working with Kasugano, with the hope of both marrying him and taking control of the Towa Conglomerate for herself. Kokoro is also helping and she knows Yoruko is too, but she doesn’t know who Kasugano is either.

Ultimate Despair: Junko and Mukuro are still on the other side of the world, but seem to be orchestrating things courtesy of people like Yasuke Matsuda, aka Class 77-A’s Ultimate Neurologist, and Juu Kinjo, a police commissioner. Our Story So Far:  * Twilight Syndrome- Hajime sets out to save Natsumi and Sato, the first major event he was around for. ** Outcome- Chiaki learns Hajime is from the future and decides to help him. Natsumi and Sato are taking part in a mental health support group organized by Miaya, along with some of the other students. Class 77-B meets Hajime for real and consider him a friend. * The Practical Exams- They set out to stop Ruruka, Seiko, and Izayoi from getting expelled. Also encouraged Nagito to receive surgery for his lymphoma. Found Hope’s Peak elementary courtesy of Nikei and Iroha and acquired footage of what was happening to the Warriors of Hope. He showed the footage to the world and first used the Kasugano identity. ** Outcome- Hope’s Peak fires several teachers and becomes swamped with angry phone calls and protests.  ** The parents of the WoH basically go into hiding as the school agrees to protect them. ** Seiko and Ruruka talk out their issues and the latter agrees to therapy. ** Hajime decides to reveal himself to Umeko Hayase- Class 75′s Ultimate Quantum Physicist- since her invention- the Tachyon Detector- could tell that he’s from the future. Mikan ends up accidentally learning the truth too and also joins the Quantum Crew. ** Nagito becomes friends with Kanata Inori, the future Ultimate Surgeon. ** Yoruko and Kokoro are hired by Hope’s Peak. ** Tsurugi Kinjo, the future Ultimate Police Officer, becomes invested in the WoH situation. ** Junya Utsugi, Kotoko’s father, starts sending his daughter to Hope’s Peak so Mikan can perform check-ups on her, partly as a way to make sure she’s not up to anything. ** Iroha encourages Jataro to run away with her and join their group.

Between this and the next arc, Hajime discovers a strange-looking tattoo on his back, one that emits non-ionizing radiation and that nobody else has. It’s also around then that Chiaki confesses she likes Hajime after being encouraged by Mikan, who’d had crushes on both of them. The three decide to form a polyamorous relationship they call the Cuddle Puddle.

* The Concert- Chiaki and Hajime go to a concert for Melody Rhythm, a band formed by twin sisters Hibiki and Kanade Otonokoji. Kanade is secretly a serial killer with both a massive body count and an incestuous attraction for her older sister. Framed as a date/Hope’s Peak Interview, they set out to expose Kanade. Meanwhile, Mikan works on distracting Sonia and Gundham while they’re pursuing their own investigation, as is Tsurugi. ** Outcome- The first attempt at exposing her actually fails, leading to Hajime and Chiaki dying...only for time to reset. ** The second time around, after explaining things to Sonia and Gundham, Hajime sets up a new plan. He successfully goads Kanade into publicly confessing, ** Chiaki, Mikan, and Yoruko manage to get Hibiki out without being seen, Sonia beats the shit out of Kanade, and Gundham leaves the Kasugano symbol for the police to find. ** Kanade is arrested and the police begin investigating her crimes ** Hibiki is allowed to stay at Hope’s Peak for the time being and to receive counselling and therapy ** Mikan returns home to find Kotoko has run away and is hiding in her dorm, and so promises to protect her. ** Nervous about how much information Kasugano has, Nikei decides to hire Setsuka Chiebukuro, former Ultimate Billiards Player of Class 73 and current Private Detective, to investigate him. ** Hajime also begins working with Monaca behind the scenes.

* Family- Junya decides to try and make a push to find Kotoko, trying to turn public opinion against Kasugano and getting the resources of Hope’s Peak ** Outcome- Kasugano delivers an Ultimatum for the parents of the WoH to come clean in one month or he’ll do it for them. ** Iroha removes Jataro’s mask, confides in him her trouble home life, and officially assumes the role of his big sister  ** Masaru is badly beaten by his father and sent to the hospital, where Kanata, her father, and Mikan work to treat him. His father, Hiroshi, his arrested and Tsurugi kicks the shit out of him. ** Kokoro admits her own history as an abusive mother and confides in Yoruko for help in making amends for her actions, asking her to help find her estranged daughter. ** Kotomi Ikuta, the Vice President of Hope’s Peak’s Student Council, decides to start investigating Kasugano herself. ** As the broadcast takes place, Sonia, Gundham, Chiaki, and Hajime work to move Kotoko out of the school to Chiaki’s house, where she’ll be safe without Hope’s Peak or her father potentially catching her.  ** Hibiki offers to help and, after an accidental fall down the stairs, learns Kotoko is with them, but decides to keep it secret. ** Tsurugi also learns from Hiroshi that a maid visited their home, which he speculates may be Taira Akane, who would later go on to become an Ultimate Despair.

//tl;dr, lots of shit’s been going down : P

//If I missed anything, someone please let me know ^^;

[lesetoilesfous]

Tales from the Scrap File

I was tagged by @barbex to post something from my scrap file and that’s just, delightful, so thank you

I don’t, exactly, have a scrap file but I do endlessly regale my partner @sewertwink with whatsapp fic outlines, so here’s one of those translated into bullet points. I...got carried away. I won’t be writing this out properly, so figured I could share it as it is. Here we go!

I’m tagging @fairandfatalasfair, @wanderingnork, @midnightprelude, @pinkfadespirit, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold aaand @hollyand-writes!

Fandom: DA2

Ship: Fenris / Anders

Characters: Fenris, Anders, Marian Hawke, Bethany Hawke, Varric Tethras, Isabela

Tags: Modern AU, still magic mages and elves, Homelessness, reference to prostitution, reference to past abuse, reference to past rape/non-con (not explicit) bigotry, canon-typical violence, unsubtle references to detention centres, shitty governments and shitty police

Rating: M

Anders in a ratty t shirt and old jeans and sneakers with holes on them and a ponytail and earrings (and nipples piercings owo) and tattoos and they meet at a laundromat

Fenris black skinny jeans and band t shirts and won’t talk about Tevinter, was a refugee and got out and now works in a record store and is friends with Hawke and the gang and anyway one day this guy shows up and chats him up, this guy in a thin t shirt with bright clever eyes

Anders is just like hey that wouldn’t be so terrible

Every time Fenris goes to the laundromat this cute guy is there, yawning like a cat and pulling up his t shirt and revealing that little v and a freckles back and a ginger blonde happy trail

And Anders notices him looking and winks and grins and anyway they fuck and Fenris’ bed is tiny but so soft and Anders just wriggles into it and lets himself sleep in because it’s been so long since he slept in an actual bed

Fenris meanwhile, whilst he can have casual sex, is a considerate lover and noticed the way Anders’ ribs were sticking out and cooks him breakfast and Anders wakes up and bats his eyelashes and is like “you know for that I could be convinced to go for round two” and Fenris kinda flushes and is like “some of us have to go to work” and Anders pouts and sighs and leans back and stretches out, arching his back and noticing the way Fenris’ gaze flickers to the piercings on his nipples (rose gold) “fine fine fine”

Because Fenris goes “what do you do, anyway?” And Anders grins and his fingers spark as he drags his hand up his bare chest and he’s like “take a wild guess” but Fenris is staring at him because he suddenly feels sick because that’s a mage, in his bed, who he just - and he gets up and all but snarls “get out!” And for a second Anders flinches and Fenris almost regrets it’s but then Anders is pouting and sighing and pulling his clothes on (it’s not exactly the worst way he’s been kicked out and maybe if he’s quick this one won’t rough him up) and he’s gone

So Anders is back on the street. And at first it’s fine - Fenris doesn’t see him at the laundromat again (which sucks for Anders because that place was bright and warm and mostly safe and smelled nice) - and he just. Moves on with his life. Doesn’t tell anyone he slept with a mage, hopes he can forget it

Meanwhile the police commissioner is calling for more and more severe measures to identify and take in mages - Fenris’ friends hate commissioner Meredith and he’s had enough loud arguments with Hawke about her apostate sister that he knows not to bring it up now

People in the city are getting tense but Fenris mostly just keeps his head down and volunteers at a centre for Tevinter refugees where he helps new refugees acclimatise to Thedas and speaking common

Meanwhile Anders is back on the street and mostly trying to keep his head down. He’s high one night though and making out with some guy in an alley and kinda hoping this one will take him home because it’s been getting cold when he breathes a little magic into the air  and the guy, turns out, not a big fan of mages, and Anders still high on the drugs and dizzy with it and the guys ends up kicking the shit out of him and Anders passes out in a gutter

So Fenris is at work and taking a delivery when he sees a body in the alley and he just kind of drops  what he’s doing, and then he gets closer and realises it’s the blonde from the laundromat. And Fenris just states and he’s kneeling in the trash and this guy’s clothes are torn and his face is a mess and his wrists are bruised and his makeup is smeared  and for half a second Fenris thinks about leaving and just pretending he hasn’t seen this. But he can’t and he wouldn’t be who he is if he did this. And despite everything it’s one thing to think about calling the police and seeing this man taken off to a mage detention centre and another to actually do it to the person who’d been blushing at him in his bed a few weeks ago

So Fenris doesn’t call the cops or an ambulance, he picks up the man and carries him ton the store room and calls Hawke and has a very quiet nervous breakdown

None of this is helped by the punters who keep trying to strike up conversation with him in the shop when they hear his accent “you’re from tevinter right? You of all people must understand why we need stricter regulation on mages” and on the one hand Fenris does and on the other hand he has an illegal mage sleeping on his sofa

Hawke’s sister Bethany knows some first aid and presumably knows Magic Stuff so she brings her round and Bethany confirms that aside from broken ribs, a sprained ankle and some nasty bruising Anders is going to be fine (though she’s hesitant to search for signs of sexual abuse without his consent). She confirms that his magic feels like healing magic though, which is a relief for Fenris because hey hopefully that means he can fix himself and Leave

Anders wakes up on a sofa and is Very Confused and then Fenris comes out and Anders kinda pulls up the blanket, realises he’s wearing different clothes (his old ones had been covered in trash and blood and infections are a problem) and kinda nervously scans Fenris’ face and is like “hey you haven’t decided I’m your one true love have you? Because things didn’t go well with the last guy who did that”

And Fenris is just confused and like “no you were injured I found you can you leave yet” and Anders immediately gets to his feet - everything hurts - and he makes it about halfway across the tiny living room before collapsing and he’s going to catch himself but Fenris is there and Anders gets real tense and is nervously chattering like “hey listen look if you’re the kind of person who’s always dreamt about have your own personal mage I get it, I really do, but we’re so much less fun in reality - we have this nasty habit of exploding into rage monsters if we get too scared and neither of us want that - so how about you just let me go and I’ll go find a different neighbourhood to sleep in and we’ll both forget this ever happened ok?”

And Fenris is just very confused and then horrified and let’s go of him and is like “I’m not planning to - I have no intention of keeping you here against your will.” And Anders’ whole body relaxes but he’s still nervously looking at the door and he’s like “ok great so can I go now?” And then suddenly there are footsteps on the stairs and Anders flinches back and is like “you didn’t - did you call the MDC?” And Fenris scowls at him and is like “should I have?” And Anders shakes his head and the footsteps fade away and Anders is shaking now and is like “did you - have you told anyone?” And Fenris is trying not to be frightened of a clearly very out of control, very frightened mage but he backs up a bit and is reaching for a phone and Anders holds his hands out and there are scars and track marks up and down his arms and he’s like “no don’t! Ok! Ok I’ll do anything you want. Come on. There’s got to be something you want from me. Name it. Want me to do some kind of roleplay? Pretend to be a templar catching the nasty mage? We can do that, you can even rough me up a bit if you want just. Don’t. Call them.”

And Fenris is Overwhelmed but he drops the phone and Anders nearly crumples in relief and he’s like “thank you” and then he kind of takes a deep breath and shakes it off and runs a hand through his hair and is like “ok alright how do you want to do this?” And Fenris is like “I’m not going to abuse you” And Anders looks like he’s about three seconds from falling apart so Fenris clarifies, “I’m not calling the MDC either. Despite my better judgement.” (And also several loud threats from Hawke.) and Anders just stares at him and is like “ok, alright. So what do you want? I don’t do blood magic.” And Fenris nearly punches him but there’s enough space between them and he’s like “I don’t want you to do blood magic” and Anders relaxes a little more and is like “so what is it?” And Fenris is like “nothing. I just. You looked like you needed help.” And Anders scoffs and Fenris is like “what?” And Anders is like “what I’m supposed to believe the man who kicked me out of bed for being a mage three weeks ago suddenly decided to go out of his way to take me in and not report me, with no conditions attached?” And Fenris is so frustrated and so confused and is like “yes?” And Anders just kinda looks at him steadily for a moment and just goes “ok.”

Fenris has to go to work and when he gets back Anders is gone. He made himself a sandwich before he left and leaves a couple dollars on the counter for it with a note that just says “thx :) “

Except now Fenris Knows that there’s an apostate mage on the streets who’s unreported (and homeless) and possibly dangerous because of him personally

So he asks Varric to help him find him and insists that it’s just because he wants to see if the mage is alright (and maybe he is haunted by the mental image of him unconscious in the gutter and the fingerprint bruises on his neck, and maybe he has started to notice how all the people who try to him about mages are born and bred in Thedas and well fed and, well, bullies) - when he gets a lead Hawke insists on coming and Fenris can’t figure out if it’s to protect the mage from him or him from the mage

But turns out the mage runs a back alley clinic - for other mages, for refugees from Tevinter, for anyone who needs it.

It’s not a home exactly - more of a back room in a garage he gets to use but not sleep in, and the clinic has irregular hours, because it’s whenever Anders is able to get there. But whenever he is there the doors are open 24/7

And on the inside are posters, the walls are wallpapered with them, manifestos and protects and graffiti calling for the rights of mages. Behind Anders on a counter two kids are playing with magic. He’s tending to a pregnant woman from tevinter, speaking to her in Tevene. When they come in he looks up and freezes, and calmly asks his patients to leave. More than one volunteers to stay for his protection but Anders convinced them it’s alright and as soon as they’re out looks at Fenris “this is a place of healing. I don’t know how you found me, but whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just please leave me alone.” And Fenris frowns and feels Varric and Hawke watching him and is like “I don’t want anything. I just wanted to see whether you were ok.” And Anders spreads his arms wide and is like “ok, I am. Happy?” And Fenris sees the bruises on his wrists and arms in the shape of fingers and he’s speaking before he’s thought it through and he’s like “do you need a place to stay?” And Anders frowns and is like “we’ve been over this I neither need nor want your hospitality held over my head” and Fenris can feel Hawke and Varric watching him still and he doesn’t even know why he’s doing this but he goes “reading lessons. I could. Use some help reading in common. Healing is an academic discipline, right? Help me practice my reading and I’ll consider it your rent.” And Anders frowns and is like “I’ll consider it@ (it’s been so long since he had a hot shower) and Fenris realises he’s seeing whether he’ll take no for an answer and is like “ok. You. Know where to find me.”  And they leave and Varric and Hawke are both staring at him like he’s grown a second head and Varric is like “so uh what’re your gonna do with an apostate fugitive? You’re really going to take him in for. Reading lessons?” And Fenris is like “he won’t accept if I don’t name a price.” And Hawke is like “not the most pressing part of that question” and they walk down the alley and away from the clinic and Fenris is like “I know”

So Anders finds Fenris at his store a few weeks later and is looking kind of nervous and waits till it closes and is fiddling with them hem of his shirt and is like “if we’re going to do this I need ground rules” and Fenris wonders again why he’s doing this and goes “name your terms” and Anders is like “we sleep in separate locations” and Fenris is like “obviously” and Anders just Looks at him, “I have my own keys” and Fenris kinda hesitates and Anders lifts his chin and is like “I need to be able to get in and out on my own” and Fenris figures that’s fair and goes on and then Anders goes, “no matter what, you don’t call the MDC. If you get tired of me, I’ll leave. But you don’t call them and you don’t get to hold it over my head or threaten me with it. Because if you do I’m gone and I will set fire to your underwear when I go.”  And he’s kinda joking but he’s kinda serious and Fenris wonders what’s happened before and wonders what it would have been like if someone had found him fresh out of Tevinter and held it over him

fenris' rule is no magic and anders is like ok no magic In The House and Fenris is like Fine

and at first it works - turns out anders is hella smart and grew up in a detention centre and the fact that made him academic irritates fenris and makes him think anders had a Good Time but he doesn't argue it, just watches. and anders is really helping fenris and then the people at the refugee centre ask if fenris can write a course for them and fenris can't and he hasn't brought anders there because tevinter refugees and mages, and also anders is an unregistered mage, but anders just. agrees to write the course

and they've found an awkward peace and bethany and hawke and the others have been befriending anders. fenris has noticed anders staying up late now he has somewhere to sleep working on his manifesto and decides not to stop him but also doesn't know what to do about it because he Can't publish this they'll both get arrested but anyway right now it's the unaddressed unexploded bomb

anders decides to build the course around traditional tevinter texts to make it easier and does his own translations and fenris comes home one night and sees him happily translating and is real Soft for him but then he realises the book is magically floating

he's furious but then anders gets scared and for a secnd they're just, stalemate and then anders is like "ok fuck this" and he challlenges fenris to boil an egg with one hand behind his back and fenris is like "what" and anders is like "i bet you can't" so fenris does it

and he triumphs and anders just watches him and he's like "what was the point" and anders is like "you asking me not to use magic is like making me not use a limb. all the time. and demanding that i never show any feeling at all. do you have any idea what that feels like?" and fenris glares and is like "i was a slave, anders" and anders kinda gets quiet and goes, "i'm asking you, please, just give me  a chance. i'll make cookies. you watch. if you think my magic is so ugly and demonic and horrifying, we'll go back to the way things were. but just give me a chance." and fenris is like. "...fine" so anders does whilst fenris watches and he realises anders is stirring and is like "wouldnt it be easier to use magic" and anders snorts and is like " i like stirring, besides i dont use magic for everything, that's a bad plan in general

and as he bakes, occasionally using magic to lift thing s or adjust temperatures, fenris sees him relax and relax and relax, until he's humming softly under his breath, and fenris realises how stiff and unhappy and awkward he'd been even when he'd thought he was comfortable, and realises how much he's been demanding of anders - and anders presents him with a plate of fresh cookies and his eyes are bright and he's grinning and flushed as if he's been dancing and is like, "well?" and fenris is like. fine. but only when we don't have visitors. and if you ever, ever use it to harm me or anyone i care about, you're gone

and anders kinda shrugs and is like yeah ok i mean i feel like that would apply whether or not i used magic (sees the look on fenris' face) but yes! i get it

so then anders starts using magic! and he sees the way fenris flinches and is careful and after a couple days fenris starts asking questions and anders answers them, explaining to fenris the different forms of magic and skills and schools and how they work and stuff

and at some point in this time anders tentatively suggests treating fenris' tattoos and to fenris' own amazement, he agrees

so now the assholes in the shop yelling about evil mages are seeming. much more annoying to fenris than they had before, and he's starting to see the holes in their arguments. and anders keeps staying up till 3am writing his manifesto and fenris is a little worried and tries to convince him to sleep more. one night fenris gets back from a gig with isabela and hawke to find anders asleep on the table and he hesitantly carries him to the couch and tucks him in and in the morning he makes him breakfast and is like "we should really get a sofabed"

So things continue, Anders really helps Fenris’ chronic pain and they’re. Getting along. Almost friendly. And then the prime minister is killed by the qunari, Meredith declares a state of emergency and stuff gets real scary real fast

Anders’ clinic is more busy than its ever been and Anders just, basically sleeps there

Most of the gang helps out and Fenris hates, really hates being at his shop and thinking about what the hell could be happening at the clinic

After the first wave of attacks on the city and the people who turn up at the clinic, there’s a steady trickle of folk getting attacked - police brutality and extremists, and Anders just yeah. 24/7 there whilst Fenris eats himself alive trying not to worry about him and what will happen if either these thugs find him or worse the MDC

And then extremists do find Anders clinic, and he gets the crap kicked out of him, and when it’s 3am and he still hasn’t heard from him Fenris goes to the clinic and finds Anders and Anders wakes up and is like “we’ve got to stop meeting like this” and Fenris just sort of laughs and sort of cries and holds him close and Anders gets real quiet and then folds into him and there’s just this deep gentle intimacy for a second

A week later Anders wants to go back to the clinic and Fenris just.  Refuses to let him go alone and takes time off work and goes down to the clinic with him whilst he works and keeps an eye on the door

And a week after that, they get home and before they go to bed Anders is like “I need to talk to you about something” and Fenris is like “can it wait?” And Anders looks at him with this tight, exhausted expression (the people he’d treated today had been kids. They’d nearly been beaten to death) and is like “no” and Fenris stops in the door to his room and Anders gives him the manifesto and is like. “I need you to read this. Please. And if...if it moves you at all. I have something I need to ask.”

For a week Fenris doesn’t read it. But then some tevinter mages turn up at Anders clinic, and he just. Can’t keep running away. So he reads it and he takes it seriously and he makes notes and annotates and at the end he finds Anders a fortnight after that request and he’s like. “What would you ask of me?” And Anders says “I need you to help me publish it.” And Fenris stares at him and tries to figure out how the hell this happened. And then he says yes

[thesurielships]

the perp II

note: I am practically making up laws in this. I have no idea how police and justice work in the US, nor in my country tbh, so please hold your disbelief. This is inspired by Brooklyn 99. If you haven’t watched it, you should.

note 2: I’m trying to write as much as possible, and to stop obsessing over the small details and just let the story flow. Which means that this will probably have a lot of imperfections, but a part 3 will be coming soon :))

Word count: 1.6k

Part 1 | Masterlist

An insistent knock startled Feyre out of her creative trance. She looked up to her boss’s usual stoic face.

“Captain Azriel,” she nodded in acknowledgement, trying to calm her panic down. He had only knocked once on her desk and folded his arms behind his back. That was never a good sign.

“My office. Now.”

Feyre blinked at his retreating figure. He hadn’t returned her acknowledgement. That was a terrible sign. She quickly followed him to his office as there was nothing he hated more than tardiness.

“Yes, Captain?”

He was already in his seat, hands steepled on his desk. “Close the door, detective.”

She did, noticing the keen gaze Lucien kept directed their way. She smiled and closed the blinds, too.

“Take a seat.”

She did, and then looked at the captain expectantly.

“Did you threaten a fellow officer with a gun?”

Feyre’s blood froze. “Captain, I - ”

“I have just received an official complaint from Detective Rosetool stating that you twisted his arm behind his back, pressed him against a wall and put a gun to his head.”

“It wasn’t to his head,” Feyre couldn’t help arguing. “It was to his spine.”

The captain leaned back in his seat, his expression unchanging.

“I didn’t want to kill him, only paralyse him.” Even she knew she sounded bratty.

“So you would have willingly maimed a fellow officer?”

“I didn’t actually do it, now did I? Besides, if we’re at the stage of filing official complaints, I might as well present one myself. Detective Rosetool is a sexist asshole who thinks that our past relationship gives him the right to get involved in my cases, to ask about my comings and goings, to follow me home and threaten other male fellow officers who dare speak to me. He has abused me multiple times prior to our break up, and I have several scars and medical reports to prove it.”

Feyre was breathing hard. She had stood up at some point during her tirade, and was ready to submit her resignation and storm off this Cauldron damned precinct if she had to. Why she hadn’t reported Tamlin before, or left all of it behind, she didn’t know. Her throat was starting to close up, tears pricking her eyes. But she would not break down in front of her superior officer. She. Would. Not.

“Alright.”

Feyre blinked. “Alright?”

The captain’s gaze was steady, either oblivious to the storm of emotions coursing through her or wisely choosing not to comment on it. “I will submit your formal complaint.”

“What about Tamlin’s?”

“As it is not entirely truthful, I have the right to refuse to forward it.”

Feyre could not believe her ears. “Why are you doing this?”

“Yours is not the first complaint I have received about detective Rosetool. Many others have spoken up about his inappropriate behavior before, and his record is not as clean as he would like it to be.”

“Sir,” her voice was shaky with unshed tears. “You do realize that his dad is the former NYPD commissioner, right? This could get you in trouble.”

Captain Azriel’s smile was small and full of menace as he said, “Do not worry about it, detective Archeron. I have my ways.”

***

The day after her intriguing conversation with the hairdressers at Dora’s, and her sob fest following her talk with Captain Azriel, Feyre went around the shops in that neighborhood looking for eye witnesses. She did not use her sketch, however, as that would have been a little unprofessional. And embarrassing, she thought as she remembered the powerful body, the sexy smirk and the violet eyes she had drawn the previous night in the privacy of her own apartment. Then her thoughts drifted to the dream she’d had of being pressed against a tattooed chest and cocooned in huge membranous wings.

And touched in places she hadn’t been touched in a while.

“… gone home by then. Detective?”

She nodded absently. If she hadn’t been so focused on hiding her flushed face behind her hair as she pretended to write something down in her notebook, she would have noticed the nervousness radiating off the owner of the sea food restaurant. He kept wringing his hands, his forehead shone with sweat and his feet were shifting constantly.

“Detective, actually…”

Feyre’s head snapped up at the careful tone. “Yes?”

“There is one more bit of information that might help you, but I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off with a wince.

“No one will know you told me, Mr. Varian.”

He swallowed audibly, then seemed to steel himself. “It’s about Dora, the owner of the salon.”

She nodded.

He hesitated, glancing at the salon behind her. Feyre tried her best to look reassuring.

“Her boyfriend is in the mafia.”

She held her breath. “Do you know which one?”

He cleared his throat. Once. Twice. “Actually… he’s the head of Hybern.”

Feyre felt like she went fishing for eels and caught a shark instead. “Are you certain?”

“I see him leaving her salon at 11:15 every night.”

She wanted to whoop and jump around in joy. David Hybern was just the kind of big fish she needed to catch to get her a promotion, hopefully away from the flower tool. “Thank you, Mr. Varian. You’re doing this city a great favor.”

And me, she thought, giggling internally, before mentally scolding herself for her selfishness.

“Just get him off these streets,” the chef answered wearily. “He strikes terror in everyone’s hearts. My kids can’t even sleep these days.”

“Rest assured, Mr. Varian. We will try our best to put this criminal behind bars.”

***

“So I heard our perp is quite the hunk.”

Feyre snorted. “They said he had violet eyes and blue hair.”

“Maybe he’s not human. Maybe he’s a vampire,” her partner, Suriel, speculated. “Or a faerie. My chaman told me those are on quite the rampage lately.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.

“What? A thief who doesn’t steal anything, who is so hot he charmed the pants off his victims, and who disappears into the night. Doesn’t this sound fantastical to you?”

“One, maybe he was just there to gather intel, and he’s planning his heist for later. Two, there is such a thing as Stockholm’s syndrome. And three, at least half of our perps disappear into the night.”

“Why would someone plan a heist on a hairdressing salon?” Suriel’s tone was dismissive. “It’s not even that fancy.”

Feyre kept silent, her eyes fixed on said salon.

“You know something, don’t you? There is more to this case that you’re not telling me.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve been there, Suriel. Next time, don’t leave me to interrogate moonstruck women alone.”

“It was a bad day for Pisces! I couldn’t get out of the house.”

“There is no such thing as astrologically impaired days, Suriel.”

Suriel glowered. She hated when her partner dismissed her beliefs, and Feyre let her rant about astrology more often than not; but when it got in the way of their job, she drew the line.

“So, why are we on watch duty?”

Feyre’s eyes roamed the street, lingering on the dark corners and on the roofs surrounding Dora’s. “I told you he might be planning a heist.”

“Cut the crap.”

“Dora is dating David Hybern.”

Suriel gasped.

“He supposedly leaves the salon every night at 11:15pm.”

Detective Pisces, as she liked to call herself, was now bouncing in her seat. “So we’re here for Hybern, not the faerie hunk?”

“I don’t know. The robbery is weird. Maybe it’s linked to Hybern. Maybe our perp is in a rival gang and wanted to use Hybern’s girlfriend as leverage.”

“But he didn’t do anything to Dora. You said he even apologised.”

“Maybe he was looking for drugs? I mean Hybern is one of the biggest Fairy Wine suppliers in Velaris.” She ignored Suriel’s meaningful glance at the drug she mentioned.

“But why would he look for it in Dora’s purse?”

Feyre was spared from admitting her lack of ideas as she saw a silhouette pass near the window.

“Did you see that?” Suriel asked.

They were out the car and halfway to the salon before Feyre could answer. When they were five meters away from the front door, the lights were turned on. Feyre could just make out three silhouettes in Dora’s office. Suriel gestured for her to go in first, signaling that she’d come in through the back door, as was their usual modus operandi. Feyre nodded, grabbed her gun, and hurried in the salon. The main room was dark, but she could see enough to tell that nothing was amiss. The office was quiet. Feyre stuck to the wall, carefully nudging the door open with her foot.

“Who’s there?” asked a gruff male voice.

She held her breath.

“Do come in, officer. We were awaiting your arrival.” This time, the voice was deep and husky and caused a shiver to run down Feyre’s spine.

She braced herself, then burst into the room, gun cocked in her hands. She shifted it between the three people.

“NYPD, freeze!”

“If your strategy was to scare us into a heartattack, detective, it only worked on me,” Dora stated dryly from where she was held at gunpoint by none other than David Hybern himself. Feyre fixed her gun in his direction.

“Pointing your gun at the first person you see. Not a smart tactic, detective,” mused the husky voice from her right.

She slowly turned her head, almost dropping the gun she kept pointed at Hybern as her eyes beheld the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall and tanned like he just got back from a vacation in Malibu. His muscled, shirtless chest bore an intricate tattoo. She hated to admit it, but his black hair did gleam blue. And the eyes that were studying her as meticulously as she had him were indeed violet.

There was only one small detail that ruined the wonderful portrait.

The faerie hunk had a gun pointed at her head.

 Tag list:  @joyceortiz13 @bailey-4244 @quakeriders @standbislytherin @mariamuses @ignite14 @1800-fight-me @velarian-trash @rhysands-highlady @queenblueoffire @rowaelinforeverworld @feeoly @buckybvrnes @dayanna-hatter @shadowstar2313 @goldfishh20 @sleeping-and-books @crackedship @your-high-lady @thesirenwashere

[mechanicalriddle]

EYY ITS EXALTED SECRET SANTA OVER ‘ERE

Here are your choices for this year’s EXALTED SECRET SANTA, o secret santa. Here are your choices for this December…

(big shoutout to Tumblr for completely butchering the image quality on all of these!! anyway heres a link to a big version:)(x)

Ted is one of my first and most beloved Exalted characters and if you follow me at all you’ve probably heard about his misadventures!

Ledaal Tedeo (22, he/him) is a disgraced ex-dynast who had nearly managed to graduate from the Heptagram with his sorcerous credentials, until he exalted working on his senior thesis and had to get the heck outta there. Now he is on the run from his old life accompanied by a ragtag circle of solar misfits (and one abyssal) and having… Well. A time.

He’s a sorcerer, lore supernal, genius mathematician and artificer, Single Point initiate, clinically anxious and perpetually annoyed (by everything). In his spare time he enjoys a.) working, b.) smoking weed and c.) chillin (in a high-brow, decadent sort of manner). You might draw him toiling away at a workbench, toking off a cool pipe with a dragon or something on it, casting a spell, swinging his sword around, hanging out with his Huraka familiar, etc etc.

Special appearance notes... He has funny wispy hair due to his strong db pedigree. He also has supernaturally clean and shiny teeth due to the blessings of a teeth god. Oh yeah and an evil tattoo which is a great excuse to wear fingerless gloves everywhere. 

IMPORTANT NOTE: do not “skinny-wash” this character!! I will be very cranky if you do that!! If you don’t think you can draw a fat character, well… learn, or pick a different guy, or something.

~~~

(x)

Oh wow, cool abyssal. Huh, wait. They’re not an abyssal? NO because they are a FIRE ASPECT! They’ve not familiar with your “realm” nonsense or whatever because they were raised in a DOOMSDAY CULT! The Last Candle Lit Against the Dark (20, they/them) hails from the high north, along the fringes of the bordermarches. After their disastrous exaltation they were cast out by their kin into the frozen wastes to die. Instead, they were taken in by a lonely goddess imprisoned in a sunken city. Here they were granted knowledge, the secrets of sorcery, and a few fun little mutations as a bonus.

Candle makes pretty egregious use of their control spell, Blood Lash, instead of more conventional weaponry (otherwise opting for knives, in a pinch). They also have way too many oxbodies + the pain tolerance merit, meaning they can get slapped around a fair bit without being significantly hampered by it. You could draw them doing some kind of cool action sequence, like using their blood lash, or doing a cool backflip, or something like that. Other options… reading forbidden texts, performing evil blood rituals at a spooky altar, trying on some gaudy goth fashions, or just hangin’ out.

Their aspect markings manifest as grey hair & perpetually soot-stained fingertips. Their control spell gives them nasty, veiny markings, which become more intense and spread farther over their face/arms if they are angry or overexerted. Their evil goddess connection has a few funny effects as well- They have a second set of eyes that can see in the dark (which are kept closed most of the time) and hooves that improve their jumping capabilities (kept under their Convenient Hoof Concealing Gucci Boots) as well as a few fun effects that are a secret to everybody (except me, and the GM of course)

(cool example shrine)

~~~

Also I didn’t wanna put this guy in the ring but I ran out of time. So! here is my last option...

(x)

(note: i was running out of time so i just yanked this text nearly directly from a post I’d put together for commissioners.... so if the wording seems a bit weird thats why)

Broken Star (21, he/him) is a day caste abyssal, investigation supernal, lifelong skullstone resident, former detective, and fresh-from-the-grave Bodhisattva Anointed by Dark Waters crony.

His primary weapon is thrown daggers. Conveniently he has wings which are made of dagger “feathers” which he can remove and throw at people. In close combat he prefers paired shortswords, and fights in a sort of rough-and-tumble ‘brawler’ style.

The wings are a part of a sort of “second skeleton” artifact weapon which has been grafted onto him via necrosurgical bullshit. All the pointy metal-looking bits sticking out of him are also a part of this ‘second skeleton’. He gets some cool evocations from it! But also angst :[

He looks very mean but he is not actually!! Hes sort of a jokester and a goofball and hes pretty frequently got a big, sharp-toothed grin on his face. Which is not to say that he can't be a serious and incredibly dangerous assassin when circumstances call for it...

For things you could draw him doing… Prowling around, swordfighting, throwing his feather-daggers, doing cool flips, being a show-off are all excellent options to get you started, but if you have other cool ideas then by all means have some fun with it!

(x)

[detective-with-one-arm]

So, Howard’s stalking. Let’s talk about that because I have some thoughts on that.

Rachel is terrified of him. That much is obvious. He’s the reason she doesn’t feel safe at home. He’s the reason she stays up so late at the precinct. He’s the reason she’s constantly paranoid and hypervigilant of her surroundings.

But Rachel isn’t terrified of him because he’s stalking her. She’s not actually afraid of him. It’s not just that he’s stalking her. It’s that he’s unhinged, deranged, and unpredictable. She doesn’t know what he’s trying to do or accomplish and she can’t predict what he’s going to do.

And not only that, he can very easily overpower her. And the only reason he can do that is because he knows her inside and out. During the time they’ve spent together, he’s made a roadmap to her entire body. He knows all of her physical weaknesses and exactly how to fight her and win. He knows how to disarm her. He knows what parts of her to hit for her to go down. He knows how to manipulate her and goad her.

And there’s also one thing he knows that she’s terrified of sharing with anyone because of it. She has a tattoo on the back of her neck. A small simple black tattoo of a top-down view of a dragon in a circle. It’s cool and to anyone else, it’s just a tattoo.

But in that spot is an extreme vulnerability for her. If pressure is applied on both sides of that tattoo on the back of her neck, it acts as basically a windows shut-down button. I feel like I’ve mentioned this before, but what that spot essentially does is trigger a subspace that Rachel’s forced into. And depending on how much pressure and force is applied there, the effect can range from just mellowing her out and getting her to be more cooperative to borderline mind-control. And the more serious the effect, the longer it takes to wear off.

She has no idea why this happens or where it comes from, but Howard knows about it. And because of that, she’s terrified of anyone else knowing about it and abusing it. And that’s another reason she’s terrified of Howard’s stalking.

If he catches her off-guard, she’ll go down instantly and she won’t be able to fight back. And I’ve already talked about her intense fear of losing control before.

That being said, if one earns enough of her trust for her to reveal this fact about herself, she will be essentially devoted to that person for life. It’s a huge show of trust for her to willingly reveal such a vulnerability for her.

And there’s also the fact that Howard is decently close to the Detroit Police Commissioner. He basically has her highest level boss in his pocket and holds her fate and her goals in the palm of his hand. If anything happens to Howard because of her, everything she’s worked so hard for her and everything she’s trying to do will all crumble to the ground and that’s a risk she’s unwilling to take. Both because of not wanting to lose everything she’s worked so hard for and because she doesn’t want to lose her only place of solace and sanctuary she has.

It’s easy to see just how much of a mental toll this can take on anyone. And it’s something that plagues Rachel every waking moment.