#rat memo

[vermiscauda]

🐁✉ | Rat Memos

By 1926, the Magical Congress of the United States of America used Memorandum Rodentium, known as "rat memos", which were enchanted pieces of paper that would fold themselves into paper rats and scurry through a series of tubes to send the memo to the correct office, sometimes tearing each other to pieces in the process.

[vermiscauda-archive]

🐁✉ | Rat Memos

By 1926, the Magical Congress of the United States of America used Memorandum Rodentium, known as "rat memos", which were enchanted pieces of paper that would fold themselves into paper rats and scurry through a series of tubes to send the memo to the correct office, sometimes tearing each other to pieces in the process.

[thegorgonist]

https://www.thegorgonist.etsy.com

A box of memo pads arrived--including a new one in homage to my beloved giant gray Dumbo rat Dusty! Now he can help everyone remember to buy treats at the store.

[arolesbianism]

I was looking at old photos of some of my nuggets yesterday from before I did my first day 1 reset (aka before I got a mod that lets you keep your agents during day 1 resets) and realized that I accidentally remade Eva wrong. Except! Beautiful world! It's actually a good thing because her current back hair was her dead sister's back hair so actually it was intentional from the start and I'm a genius forever <3333

[bornetoblood]

cant draw as much as i want to but that's okay <3 remeber to pace yourself lovelies <3

[rottenpumpkin13]

Things Found On The SOLDIER Bulletin Board Before It Got Banned

Also known among the operatives as "Exhibit A in HR's Case Against Us" and "Why Lazard drinks"

• An old timey style wanted poster of Sephiroth.

• A Shinra Crypto Pyramid Scheme Recruitment Poster: "Get rich! Ask me how!" flyer definitely not put up by Genesis.

• A candid, casual shot of Angeal in a towel, with a sticky note on it that reads "This man's physique is impeccable and we should all strive to look like him - Kunsel"

• An unofficial and deeply Inappropriate SOLDIER length ranking. A full infographic-style chart titled "Who's Really First Class?" — featuring stylized silhouettes, pixelated measurements, very unscientific bar graphs, with one bar labeled "??? (Sephiroth)" that pierced through the top of the page and kept going onto the wall behind.

• A heavily redacted mission report re-titled "How To Get Bitches In Wall Market" By Roche. Accompanied by a pinned photo of Roche, Zack, Kunsel and Cloud in front of the Honeybee Inn doing a thumbs up. Entire paragraphs blacked out with Sharpie by Lazard.

• A sign reading: "STOP SCREAMING IN THE AIR DUCTS." Below it: a list of times screams were heard, organized by pitch. "3:12 AM – Zack: "YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE," 4:47 AM – Genesis: operatic shriek followed by "What an ADORABLE rat!",, "2:16 PM – Kunsel: 🎶 Vent mann, he's in the vents 🎶 Who's gonna tell 'im he can't be in the vents? 🎶

• A complaint letter written entirely in Wingdings. No one could decipher what it said, but Sephiroth pinned it dead center with his sword and left it there for a week. Genesis claimed it translated to "STOP LEAVING RAW EGGS IN THE SHOWERS. THE HOT WATER IS COOKING THEM."

• "Kunsel Knows" Weekly Gossip Column. Typed, laminated, and mysteriously accurate. This week's headline: "Rufus and Tseng: Covert Lovers?" Kunsel denies authorship every time while distributing fresh copies.

• A photo labeled "Sephiroth, age 6." Except it was clearly taken recently. Featured a photo of Sephiroth happily filling a coloring page while eating animal crackers.

• A prayer candle with Lazard's face on it nailed to the bulletin board. Taped under the header: "Our Administrative Savior, Deliver Us From Overtime." Lit regularly by Angeal. Burned through the wall once. No one confessed.

• "Sign Up for the Shirtless Sparring Tournament!" flyer sponsored unofficially by Zack. Angeal's name was written 42 times all in different handwriting by different people. Among them was noticeably Sephiroth's handwriting 12 times.

• An updated Lost and Found photo collage of strange things retrieved from the training room. Notable entries included: A weaponized tree branch with "property of Sephiroth" carved into it, an Angeal body pillow, a molotov cocktail, a Genesis-themed rubber duck, Cloud Strife looking confused, and a suspicious flashlight.

• A flyer titled: "Genesis Says He Can Fly Now, Come Watch at Noon"

• A very official-looking memo from HR titled "You Are Not Allowed To Challenge Sephiroth To Arm Wrestling, Ever Again."

• A letter addressed to Lazard written entirely in glitter pen that read only: "You can't fire us all. ❤️"

• A laminated page titled "Forbidden Moves Banned From Sparring" Included: A photo of Sephiroth and Genesis beating each other with makeshift marker swords.

• Two photos pinned side by side: one of Sephiroth and the other of ex-turk Vincent Valentine. People would gather around while Kunsel divulged his theories using a presentation pointer stick.

[duvetchico]

masterlist !

request rules.

le sserafim !

miyawaki sakura

none ..

kim chaewon

is your face, like... made of clouds or some shit?

huh yunjin

stupid in love

love, eventually (smau)

we’re not each other’s, but god, we could’ve been.

nakamura kazuha

none ..

hong eunchae

eunchASMR

aespa !

rating my exes bc i'm unwell and they're hot

aespa as ur girlfriend

say my name again. i dare you.

yu jimin

lovebirds

kingston

pluto projector

love, eventually (smau)

eepyhead

that's my baby / part.2

just wanted to hear you

morning voice (memo edition)

you're weird. i like it.

i'm in love with you

25 clips that had us looking like :0

love and war

i love you.

soft spot

collision (smau)

ok but like... do you like me- like me?

tiny human

dating 101: swipe right (smau)

mall rat

fine, don't talk to me then

batman aint steve

chickens and bitches

game over

i hate them. not you.

loser lover

plot twist

uchinaga aeri

level 47 of delusion

high above, but not over you.

kim minjeong

ugh!

shared custody of heartbreak.

2am and the love of my life is gone

ning yizhou

unannounced. uninvited. unbothered.

falling for you (literally)

ik they're incomplete.....................

tripleS !

zhou xinyu

nice sweater

can u act normal for once

park sohyun

dumb ways to die

kim nakyoung

maybe we've had enough

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of whb kings and gn mc going to the human world and meeting mc's toxic ex

WHB kings meeting MC's toxic ex

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Accidentally wrote this with a male ex in mind, so sorry if you wanted to see female ex U.U

Warning: There's a lot of swearing from the ex :D (I don't normally have the need to warn about this but I did kinda run loose this time)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Make sure to explain to Satan that ther are laws and he can't just kick people as he wishes to when he's visiting you on Earth

But that doesn't stop him, really

So the moment your ex stops you while you've both just walking down a street and starts angrily going on about how quickly you moved on (it's been more than a year) and exchanged him for some short ass mf, Satan's already dragging him into the nearest back alley and having a "word" with him

There's no guarantee the ex will ever leave the back alley on his own - if even

Ngl, it's kinda hot to imagine :D

       ༺☆༻

Just a calm, normal day of Mammon treating you to a café date

Then suddenly a hand lands on the small table between the two of you

Yep, it's your toxic ex

'Seriously?! You broke up with me just to become some cheap sugar baby slut?'

So... Apparently your ex didn't miss the quiet luxury outfit on Mammon memo and thinks you're after his money

Before you get to speak up to your own defense, Mammon starts laughing

Your and your ex's heads snap in his direction

'Yeah, you think it's funny, asshole? This bitch is a goddamn golddigger!'

Mammon stops laughing and gets up

You can only see the horror in your ex's eyes as the mountain of a demon starts towering over him

"I'd really appreciate if you didn't talk about my fiancé like that. If you must know, they are the one making more money than me."

Mammon didn't even get to finish his second sentence and your ex is gone, vanished

       ༺☆༻

You're in some expensive store, picking out some new clothes for yourself to wear to some event that Leviathan's taking you to as a date

Coming out of a changing room, you do a little twirl to show your outfit to him

As Leviathan's hands smooth down over your curves, appreciating how the clothes complimetn your body, your toxic ex appears

'Hey fucker, hands off my gf/bf!'

Your ex grasps Leviathan's bicep and tries to pull him away from you

Levi only gives you a tired look

"Y/N, why is this cretin touching me?"

As you eyes widen, the shock stops you from making any sound

'You think you're being funny? I'll fucking kill you, dickhead!"

"Ah, I see..."

You and Leviathan agreed to not have him use his abilities so you don't get into trouble and possibly expose Levi as a demon

But this is a special case

So Levi turns to your ex and whispers "Choke"

And the next second, your ex is gasping for air, falling to the ground, meanwhile you and Levi try and get you changed bakc into your normal clothes so you can pay and leave ASAP

       ༺☆༻

A cute dinner date, what could go wrong?

It was kinda hard for Beelzebub to eat like a human and not shovel food into his mouth like he normally would

When your second course arrived, Beel stopped for a second

...?

That's odd...

"Hey mister waiter, this food smells interesting... Can you tell me why does this food smell like - what you guys call - rat poison?"

What. The. Fuck?

You freeze and look at Beel across the table

He's looking at the waiter with that smile of his that tells you he knows more than he's sharing

And then you look at the stuttering waiter

Fuck

That's your toxic ex

"B-Beel, what do you mean rat poison?!"

"It seems to me, our mister waiter gave us an extra ingredient into our food before bringing it here"

Beelzebub gets up and grabs your ex by his chin

The whole situation escalates to the point where your ex gets arrested for attempted murder

       ༺☆༻

On the rare occasion when Belphie isn't sleeping his day away, you both find yourself on some local version of comic con

You both decided to cosplay your favorite characters from a Hentai you both enojoy

It's a bit niche, but you guys were okay with that

But then from one of the booths emerges your toxic ex

'Ah, so I had to fight tooth and nail to at least get to see your tits once, but now you're just gonna whore yourself around?'

Your eyes dart to Blephie, but he's looking somewhere else, possibly dozing off standing up despite telling you he wouldn't

"May-"

You don't even get to say anything when your ex slaps you hard

That gets Belphie's attention and he's more awake than ever before

Normally, he's probably tell Beleth to kill that guy, but he's not there with you

So now Belphie has to be the one to deal wiht this nuisance

"M'kay, I'm giving you three seconds to skedaddle before I turn you into minced meat."

Your ex just starts to laugh, but doesn't get to for long since a black fog surrounds him and makes him disappear for good

Why bother with prolonging his inevitable end? Besides, Belphie is getting tired and you two still have a lot of things to check out

       ༺☆༻

I'm not even gonna introduce a scenario

It's not like you can even go outside with Asmo without having him get hard from something

But

If Asmo had to deal with your toxic ex, he'd go the I fucked your mom way

Which he probably actually did at some point

That would explain that absolute fatherless behavior of your ex during your relationship

       ༺☆༻

You and Lucifer are at a pharmacy, partially because you got a minor scratch on your elbow from *cough cough* but also because Lucifer is interested in what kinda of medicine humans have

And then you run into your ex with a broken hand who immediatelly starts going off to you about how messy you look and how you'll never find anyone again since even getting together with him was a charity on his part

You don't look messy at all

Okay, maybe your hair is a bit messy and and your outfit is a bit wrinkled plus you walk with a bit of a tiny limp, but that's because you did find someone else

You're aboutt o answer swomething witty, maybe even poke fun at your ex fro getting his hand broken, but Lucifer beats you to it:

"Excuse me, if I may chime in as a professional in the medical field, there seems to be a condition with your broken limb. If you keep saying such stuff to my partner, I'm affraid you'll find that your other hand is also broken, if not more of your bones. Should this condition escalate, your condition might turn lethal."

Your ex blinks, trying to process what Lucifer even said, but at that point you're both walking away while you're trying so hard to not burst out laughing

[deafeningfestivalpaper]

Hmmm can I have some headcanons on the rest of the recruitables' opinions on the Masked Shadow? Like have they heard of it / can comprehend its existence (??), and what they think of it if they do know? (you don't have to do all of them if it's too many people ofc)

(bc to my knowledge in the canon I don't see the rest of the gang interacting with it and such and it's lowkey driving me crazy LOL)

FOUR (five) PEOPLE!! Because I’m shit at long posts lmao

XARIA AND MONTY

- VERY much dislike it.

- When they first took over Sam’s room, it didn’t get the memo and showed up in there while they were trying to sleep

- Cue two spooked art students rushing out of Sam’s room screaming about something getting in

- Very embarrassed by that incident, neither can look at it without wincing a little at the leftover embarrassment

- Xaria attempted to take it out on it violently, but when she punched the robe it crumpled, then just flattened back into place. No reaction, just the empty expression of its smiling mask staring back at her.

- Both avoid it best they can now.

MORTON

- On the other hand, Morton LOVES it.

- I like to think that, due to the rat cheese thing, that its gifts are not limited only to Sam.

- Unsure of it at first, but the moment it pulled out a shiny trinket for him he was entirely sold.

- Likes to sit near it and tell it about his collection. Silent listener and dude who could yap for hours. Both benefit from this development because Morton no longer needs to find someone willing and the shadow has someone willing to speak to it like a friend.

RAT BABY

- Curious, then scared, then indifferent

- Originally was a lot more interested in it, but baby attention span and the more interesting things happening around the apartment catch its attention way more than the shade in the corner.

- Does like the gifts though, if it motions rat baby over its running up and yipping at the bottom of its robe excitedly

HELLEN

- not fond of it, but willing to tolerate it. The only one it doesn’t gift to because she refuses them each time.

- Doesn’t like how she can’t intimidate it, but also relieved a little? Like, if it becomes aggressive there’s not much she can do in the scary department like she usually can, but it’s nice to look at something and not have it flinch back in response.

[majosullivan]

Nevermore Dashboard Simulator

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can we all agree to stop making jokes about each other’s deaths? Making light of someone’s death even as a joke is really gross

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

No I was murdered so I can reclaim it

85,958 notes

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Okay but can someone tell me how posts here are getting so many notes? There’s like around 100 people at the academy and I’m frequently seeing posts with well over 1,000 notes. Like, it would be one thing if these posts were years old but some of them are from 2 days ago. Did I just miss the memo and everyone here has at least 10+ accounts, like WHERE are you guys coming from?

👻 hourofsecrecy Follow

Can the spirits not show their appreciation for people’s commentery? Can the creatures of the night not find humour in wits and gists of others? What is the difference from the newly departed and the Unseen Ones?

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Absolutely horrific answer, thank you for your time

26,496 notes

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Tell me why it’s around eight in the morning and the first thing I see while heading to the dining hall is Lenore PINING Annabel Lee AGAINST A WALL

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Care to clarify who the hell you were referring to in this post?

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Yes

3,270 notes

🎈 floatinghoax Follow

After everything the afterlife could have been, you’re telling me that I have to go to SCHOOL and have CLASSES that start at 9AM? Truly tempted to walk straight into the wasteland, there’s only so much a second chance at life is worth

#not to mention with have fucking ROOMMATES #this academy is MASSIVE #you’re telling me there isn’t enough room for single rooms in this place?

7,984 notes

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

I’m curious, who do you guys think you could take in their spectre forms?

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

IN A FIGHT

69,285 notes

🎶 decomposingmusic Follow

You’re not about to manifest your spectre, you’re just dehydrated

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

out of the way gay boy i’m boutta separate myself from my remaining mortal ties and embrace the abilites of my spiritual form

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

nures rom

173,032 notes

🌙 voyage-to-the-moon Follow

do you think the Deans wake up every day, take one look at us before telling Ms. Poppet ‘PUT THOSE BEASTS IN SITUATIONS!’

2,396 notes

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Does anyone know if Duke and Pluto (the two boys friends with Lenore) are an item or not? Cause any time I’ve seen them interact, Duke has consistently referred to Pluto as Mon Minou (my kitten in french) and I’m not sure if the two of them are together or if they’re just…Like That

🌃 eveningstar Follow

UPDATE: SO IT TURNS OUT PLUTO DIDN’T KNOW WHAT MON MINOU MEANT AND FOUND OUT THROUGH MY POST. HIM AND DUKE HAVE BEEN BICKERING ABOUT IT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE DORM ROOMS

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Despite what you would think would occur from this development, none of this has answered by original question

#I was just curious if these two were gay or just European #by all accounts they might be both

6,974 notes

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

I think I’m about half with through the manor right now? Honestly this lesson is going much better than I expected!

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS R&)26?83@/$

5,052 notes

☔️ dew-dropped-nights Follow

[about to be eaten by one of the monsters in the Teraphobia trial] okay but do you think I’m cute? Be honest

4,824 notes

🪐 eureka Follow

Do you think that Annabel Lee and Lenore have ever explored each others bodies

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can you fucking not do this? Not only are they real people, they’re our classmates and clearly can’t stand each other. Stuff like this is weird and gross

🔮 sorcery-sorcery-sorcery Follow

I bet they fucked nasty up at the widow’s watch

🥂 drinking-into-the-grave Follow

This is actually how Lenore won the Mystery Manor lesson

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Sometimes that butch pussy gets you acting unwise

🏵️ pendulum-in-the-pit Follow

THAT

WHAT

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

What’s not clicking

29,496 notes

[zoro-sremedy]

In the fine print. Four. The fault clause.

Brief summary:

A merger puts them on opposite sides of the table… and then all over each other. Sex, secrets, and sabotage—falling wasn’t part of the plan, but some deals are made in whispers and signed between the sheets.

Word Count: 4.3k

Risk assessment 18+ mdni, smut and crack, stablished relationship, unprotected sex, riding, oral sex (she to he), mentions of gun, very little to no violence.

It started with a delay.

Then another.

And then came the fire on dock 3.

You barely had time to process the frantic messages piling in before Ace burst into your office—eyes wide, tie askew, phone in one hand and coffee in the other, like the world was actively ending.

"Don't panic," he said.

You blinked. "That's never a good sign."

"I'm panicking," Ace admitted, dropping into the seat across from you. "Somebody sabotaged the new shipment. The high-grade equipment from Sphinx—gone. Like kaboom gone."

Your blood went cold.

"And guess what?" he added grimly. "Some asshole's already leaking internal reports to the press. Guess who they're blaming?"

You didn't have to ask.

You already knew the names they were tossing around like knives.

Yours.

Zoro's.

Your heels echoed against the marble floor, each step sharp, calculated. The moment you stepped into the conference room, the place tensed—Marco gave you a small nod, Izo looked deadly bored but observant as always, and your father sat at the head of the table, arms crossed like he was bracing for war.

A few department heads from logistics and security were already mid-argument.

"She's too close to One Piece Co.," spat one of them—Hiroto, a guy who's been pissed ever since you got promoted above him. "Her judgement's compromised."

"Compromised?" you repeated coolly, taking your seat. "Because I'm dating someone? Please. You think Zoro's whispering state secrets in bed? That's rich, Hiroto, especially coming from someone who accidentally CC'd our entire Japan branch in an internal memo titled 'dumb upper management'."

Marco choked on his coffee.

Izo didn't even bother hiding his grin.

"Let's be clear," you continued, tone like steel wrapped in velvet. "Zoro's not in charge of security. I am. And as of now, my report shows no breach from our side. You want to chase shadows? Do it on your own time."

"But we can't just ignore the optics—," another suit started.

"Optics don't cause fire—"you snapped. "Sabotage does. And unless anyone here has actual proof that my personal life is responsible for our internal leak, I suggest we move the conversation to solutions. Or better yet—shut up and let me handle it."

The room fell into stiff silence.

Your father watched you for a beat, unreadable as always, then gave the faintest nod. "You heard her. We're done here."

A few days later and a meeting with Ace, Luffy and Zoro. All of you had a plan to catch the rat, if there was one.

Location: Private loading dock, 2:07 a.m.—dim lights, sea breeze, and secrecy.

The moon cast silver streaks across the loading bay, glinting off the polished black SUV's and stacked shipping crates like some noir moving set. It was quiet. Too quiet.

You stood at the edge of the dock, arms folded, the chill wind tugging gently at your coat. You'd been here an hour early—nerves, mostly, and a habit. Your eyes scanned the shadows until you heard footsteps behind you.

"Still don't sleep much, huh?" Zoro's voice was low, familiar, and warm.

You didn't turn. "Still don't make noise when you walk."

"That's a compliment coming from you, golden ears." He stepped beside you, hands in the pocket of his fitted jacket, looking over the water like he wasn't mentally cataloging every corner of the dock. "How many guards are on the inside?"

"Four. Rotating in two's, every thirty minutes. Fake shipment's marked with the green tag." You handed him the tablet, which he took without looking at—eyes still on you. "We've been logging keystrokes on every security terminal too. If someone tries to access the info from our side, we'll know."

He finally glanced down at the screen. "Thorough as hell."

"I have to be." You paused. "Too many people waiting for me to screw this up."

"Too many people are stupid," he replied flatly, before his tone softened. "But you're not. You've been running circles around them since day one."

You tilted your head, a sly smirk tugging at your mouth. "Is that your version of flirting?"

"I could say something worse," he muttered, taking a slow step towards you.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you didn't back away. "Go on then."

Zoro leaned in, close enough that the wind wasn't what raised goosebumps on your neck. "You're hot like this. Confident. In charge." His voice dropped. "Drives me insane."

You held his gaze, the tension between you coiling tight like a drawn bowstring. "Then wait till we catch the bastard. I'm planning on being insufferable."

He smirked, eyes flashing. "Can't wait."

Before the moment could melt into something hotter, a low beep buzzed from your earpiece. Ace's voice crackled through. "We've got movement. North entrance."

You gave him a quick kiss then pulled away, professionalism snapping back into place. "Let's go catch a rat." Zoro rolled his shoulders. "Just don't get distracted looking hot with a gun."

You didn't even look back. "That sounds like a you problem, cutie."

On the other side, inside the cramped van, Ace was half-sitting, half sprawled across a tangle of wires, cameras, and snack wrappers. His headset was askew, and he had a bag of chips tucked under one arm.

"Okay so we got visual on two figures heading towards the green-tagged crate, he whispered, crunching obnoxiously into the mic. "One is definitely big Mike—that bastard owes me fifty bucks from poker night."

Luffy, who was balanced upside down in the passenger seat with his feet up the roof and chewing on a meat skewer, grinned. "Should I go now? Now? Now? Should I jump out the van ninja-style or pirate-style?!"

Ace elbowed him. "Sit your meat-stick ass down. We're waiting for the signal."

Luffy looked dramatically offended. "This is the most boring stakeout in history. No treasure. No cannonballs. Just you and your crumbs."

"And a corporate mole, dumbass."

"Who touches sushi shipments! The disrespect."

Ace checked the tablet, zooming in. "Okay. Movement confirmed. Zoro and boss lady are moving in."

You and Zoro moved like shadows across the concrete, flanking either side of the crate as the two figures approached it. The taller one—Big Mike, confirmed—knelt down and cracked the panel open with practiced ease.

Big Mike was hunched over the crate, using a makeshift device to access the internal tracker. The second guy—a nervous runner—stood watch, constantly glancing around.

"C'mon, c'mon, "Mike muttered. "Just a few more seconds and this crate disappears off the grid… Blackbeard will pay double for this haul."

Then—floodlights exploded in. He froze, squinting into the brightness. The runner bolted. Mike tried, but—

"You're not fast enough for that, Mikey." Zoro stepped out of the shadows and snatched him by the collar like it was routine. Mike wheezed as his back slammed against the crate.

"Hey man—Zoro, right? We worked together on that east dock project���remember?" Mike laughed nervously.

Zoro's grip tightened. "You also rerouted seven shipments, handed classified specs to Blackbeard, and tried to pin it on Whitebeard Co."

He slammed him again.

Mike whimpered. "I was just following orders man—!"

"Wrong company for that excuse," you said, stepping into view.

Mike's face went white. "Shit."

You crouched a bit to his eye level, perfectly calm. "You were so careful. A few keystrokes here, a bribe there. But you got cocky, Mike. You forgot I check server logs for fun."

You flipped a flash drive in your fingers like it was a dagger.

"You used the other idiot's login at 3:12 a.m. on a Sunday. Sloppy."

Zoro let go just enough for Mike to crumple down on the pavement. The runner had been tackled halfway down to the pier by Ace, who came dragging him back by the hoodie like a lost puppy. "He's squealing already. Says Big Mike told him it was 'just insurance work'. Idiot didn't even know Blackbeard was involved."

Luffy walked up last, chewing a chocolate bar. "That's what you get for trusting a guy named Big Mike. That's a villain's name."

Mike groaned as you snapped zip ties on him yourself, standing tall and steady, all business. Even with chaos all around, you were sharp, collected—and God help Zoro, hot as hell.

He stood there silent as you called in a cleanup and the police to the side, heart pounding in his chest for all the wrong reasons.

Ace nudged him. "You good?"

Zoro didn't look away. "Yeah. Just figuring out how soon I can propose."

—

The door hadn't even closed all the way behind you before Zoro had you pinned up against it, one hand cupping your jaw, the other firmly gripping your waist.

"You were terrifying tonight," he said low against your lips. "It was hot."

You grinned, breathless, fingers slipping into the fabric of his shirt. "You wrung a man like a towel. You really think you're any better?"

He kissed you—slow and deep, like he finally had time to savor it. No interruptions. No emergencies. Just the adrenaline of victory finally giving away to the crash only you could break.

When you finally pulled apart, he let his forehead rest against yours.

"Everyone's been breathing down our necks for weeks," you whispered.

"And we still kicked ass."

"We make a good team," you murmured, watching the way Zoro's jaw flexed when you stepped in close, fingers brushing down in front of his shirt—slow, unhurried, like you were staking a claim.

His breath caught, just a little. "Damn right we do."

But before he could move, you did.

You pushed him back, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss, walking backwards slowly to the stairs. You turned around and walked ahead, letting your hips sway subtly as you made your way to the stairs. His footsteps followed behind, unhurried but heavy, like he was soaking in every second.

The moment you hit the top of the stairs and glanced over your shoulder with a sultry stare? He surged. But when his hand reached for your waist, you caught-it mid air and stepped aside again, making him miss.

He chuckled softly, watching you stroll in the master bedroom like you owned it. The city lights cast everything in silver and shadow, and by the time he caught up, you were at the foot of the bed, taking your jacket off with excruciating slowness.

He tried to help you, but you just tutted and made him sit on the bed. "You're only watching today." Zoro raised a brow, amused. "Is that so?"

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his without fully kissing him. "You don't get to touch unless I say so. Can you handle that?"

His jaw flexed, eyes darkening. "Yeah. Try me."

You smiled—slow and wicked—and pushed him back with a hand to his chest. He let you, reclining on the bed like a king granting the moment. But you were the one in charge tonight.

You pulled his shirt up slowly, letting your hands smooth over warm skin and lean muscle. He hissed when your nails dragged across his abs—the kind of pain he liked. You stood back at the foot of the bed, arms folded, letting the silence stretch. Zoro leaned back on his elbows, shirtless and flushed, waiting—but not moving.

"You're being good," you mused.

"For now," he said gruffly. His eyes dropped to your hands as they dropped to your t-shirt, lifting up over your head and throwing it somewhere. Your jeans came next, sliding them down slowly as you turned around while bending over and giving him a show as your spine arched beautifully and your ass looked gorgeous.

You didn't look at him as you stepped out of them, but you felt his gaze—hot and unblinking, dragging over every inch of skin you revealed. You were still in your lingerie: delicate black lace that hugged your hips and barely covered your breasts, sheer enough that nothing was really hidden.

You reached behind your back and unhooked the clasp.

Zoro's breath stuttered.

You let the bra fall forward and caught it one hand, tossing it lazily to the side. You took your time walking over, hips swaying, breast bouncing slightly with each step—his eyes glued to every inch like a starving man.

"You like?" you asked, pretending not to notice the way he was gripping the sheets again.

"You know I do," he muttered, voice thick. His eyes didn't leave your chest, but he still didn't move. "You're torturing me."

You smiled sweetly. "Good." Then walked over and climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap, your bare skin brushing his and reached for his wrists and brought his hands up, letting him hover just beneath your breasts.

"Wanna touch?" you teased, brushing one nipple against his knuckles.

He groaned.

"Tough," you said sweetly, and let go.

"You're gonna pay for this later," he muttered, nearly a growl.

"I'm counting on it," you whispered, grinding against him just enough to make him moan softly. "But right now, you're going to be so good for me."

He reached for your waist, but you stepped out of reach, eyes glinting. "Lie down, Zoro."

He raised a brow. "Getting bossy again?"

"Still think you're in charge tonight?" you teased, already sinking to your knees at the foot of the bed.

He sat back against the pillows, watching you with sharp, hungry eyes. "Not stopping you." You curled your fingers against the waistband of his pants and dragged them down slowly, watching him twitch with anticipation. He was already flushed hard, the kind of thick that makes your mouth water.

You didn't start gentle.

You licked a stripe up the underside first, slow and deliberate, just to watch his chest rise sharply. Then you sucked him in deep all at once, past your lips, past your throat, until your nose brushed his green happy trail and he swore under his breath, head snapping back.

"Holy shit—" His hands clenched into the sheets, thighs tensing like he was holding himself back from thrusting up. You pulled back with a slick pop and licked alongside the shaft like it was the best thing you'd tasted all week. "You said you liked me in control," you murmured, voice gone smoky.

Zoro looked completely wrecked—his pupils blown wide, chest heaving, one hand running through his hair like he needed something to anchor him. "You're gonna kill me."

You smirked. "Not until I'm done."

You sucked him in again, deeper, slower this time—but with purpose. You let your tongue work along the base while your hand twisted near the tip, letting spit and heat make it a mess. You moaned around him wantonly and felt the way he jerked, his body betraying every ounce of restraint he had left.

"Fuck, baby—" His voice cracked when you hollowed your cheeks and took him  even deeper, swallowing around the head. "You're gonna make me come like this—" You looked up at him through your lashes, lips stretched around him, and moaned again.

You let spit drip down his shaft, using your fist to smear it along the base while your mouth worked the tip like a favorite treat. Each sloppy sound echoed in the room, shameless, obscene—and Zoro looked like he was losing religion.

That did it.

Zoro reached out blindly, threading his fingers through your hair but not guiding—just holding, like he needed the anchor or he was going to lose it. You bobbed your head faster now, matching broken breaths, until his thighs tensed again and he hissed, "Wait—fuck—wait—"

But you didn't.

You swallowed him to the base one last time, tongue teasing just under the crown, and he broke—eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted in a groan so filthy it made your core clench.

When you pulled off, he was half-gone, panting, dazed, his hand still tangled in your hair like he wasn't ready to let go. You liked the corner of your mouth, wiped your lips with the back of your hand, and gave him the most wicked smile he'd ever seen.

“Look at you,” you purred. “All that muscle and no fight left.”

"…You vixen," he muttered hoarsely, helping you up to sit on his abdomen. "I need ten minutes. Then I'm turning the fuckin' tables."

Zoro's chest was still rising hard when you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You alive?" you whispered, lips brushing his cheek as your fingers toyed with the edge of his jaw.

His eyes cracked open, still glazed. "Barely."

You giggled and kissed him properly this time, slow and deep. He groaned, kissing back, his hands sliding up your thighs like he'd finally remembered they were his to touch. But when he tried to flip onto your back, you stopped him with a single finger on his lips.

"Mm-mm. Not yet."

He narrowed his eyes. "Woman—"

"You said ten minutes. You didn't even make it to five." You rocked your hips slowly against him, feeling the way he was already hardening again beneath you. "Just relax. I've got you."

“Condoms—” he muttered, breathless.

“No need,” you whispered against his lips. “I want all of you.”

The sound he made was nearly feral.

His growl vibrated in his chest, but his hands stayed where they were, gripping your hips. "You're playing with fire."

"Then burn with me," you whispered, reaching down to guide him back inside. Zoro swore through his teeth, hands clenching as you sank onto him inch by inch. You gasped—it was so much— and he looked up at you like you'd just cursed him with something sacred.

"You're tight as hell," he grunted. You smiled, slow and sinful. 

"And all yours."

Then you started to move. Slow at first, teasing grind and little circles of your hips, letting him feel every slick inch.

Zoro's head tipped back into the pillows, mouth parted in a low moan. You leaned forward, letting your breasts brush his chest, just to feel his abs tighten when your nipples dragged against him. His hands gripped your thighs harder.

You started slow—rolling your hips, one hand braced on his chest, the other tangled in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan. His hands tightened against your hips. "You look so good like this," you whispered, leaning down to nip his jaw. "Letting me use you."

A muscle in his cheek twitched. "You think I'd let anyone else?" he ground out.

You laughed—but it hitched into a gasp when he suddenly grabbed your hips and thrust up into you in one smooth, brutal motion.

"Zoro—!" you cried out, fingers digging into his chest.

"Ten minutes is all I needed," he growled, sitting up. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other sliding up—calloused fingers tracing up your ribs, your side, until he cupped your breast fully in his palm. "You thought you could keep teasing me and not pay for it?"

You moaned louder, grinding against him now, hands gripping his shoulders. "This was supposed to be my show—"

"Still is," he said, voice reverent and hoarse. "Just helping, love."

He sucked a bruise into your throat as his other hand slid his other hand slid up your body, rough fingers brushing the swell of your other breast. His thumbs flicked your nipples, making you cry out again, body arching into his touch.

"You think I wasn't going crazy when you stripped for me?" he muttered, mouth against your collarbone. "The way you moved, the way you looked at me like you owned me?"

Your only answer was a broken moan and the roll of your hips so deep it made your head spin.

"You do," he murmured, like a confession. "But I'm not gonna let you forget who you're riding."

You didn't stay put. Even through your haze, you ground back—fighting him for control, watching him curse, drowned in pleasure. At your mercy. "You love this, don't you?" you purred, bouncing now—higher, faster, matching his pace, letting your body do the talking. "You love how I ride you."

"I love you," he said hoarsely, right before you dropped your hips again and he choked on a groan.

You're breath caught—just for a second.

He said it like it wrecked him, like it had been clawing its way out of his throat all night. No hesitation. No apology.

And damn if that didn't make your whole body clench around him. A wicked smile curled on your lips, but your voice was low, breathless. "Say it again."

Zoro opened his eyes—dark and burning—and sat up fully, chest to chest, one hand still wrapped around your waist, the other cradling your face like he didn't care if he came or died right then.

"I love you," he said again, firmer this time, like a vow. "I fucking love you."

You kissed him like you'd been starving for it. Like you could taste the truth on his tongue. And then you moved.

Harder. Deeper. Riding him like you were never coming down. Your hips moved in frantic rhythm now—bodies slick, breath tangled, your fingers locked in his hair as his hands gripped your ass to thrust up and meet you, again and again.

"Fuck, baby—just like  that," he growled into  your  neck, teeth grazing your skin. "You're so good. So fucking perfect—"

You moaned louder, the coil in your stomach tightening  fast, too fast. Every stroke hit deep, perfect, your nerves frayed and your mind unraveling. You clung to him as your body started to shake.

"zoro—Zoro, I—"

"I've got you," he gasped, voice rough with the edge of his own release. "Come for me, love. Let me feel you."

Pleasure ripped through you like a tidal wave, spine arching, thighs trembling around  his waist as your climax tore a cry from your throat.  You collapsed against him, body twitching, barely registering the way he grunted your  name before he followed—his own orgasm chasing yours with a deep, guttural  moan as he buried himself in you, hands clutching you to his chest like he couldn't stand to let go.

For a moment, all you heard was breath. Ragged. Messy. Real.

Then—his hand smoothed along your back, gentle now, grounding. You shifted slightly, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, heart still thudding too hard. Zoro kissed the top of your head, then your temple, arms wrapped so tightly around you it was like he could shield you from whatever storm was coming next.

And maybe that's why it hit you then—because you felt safe.

"I love you too."

It slipped out soft, small. Like you were afraid the words might burn if you said them too loud.

Zoro's body tensed beneath you for half a second. Not rejection. Just surprised. He didn't  speak, not right away. So you kept going quiet, vulnerable, your voice barely above a whisper. "I do," you said, voice shaking. "I've just… tried so hard not to. Not this fast. Not again."

You lifted your head to look at him, blinking through the haze and the sting in your eyes. "It's just… it's been a long time since I let myself feel something like this. It's so strong, it scares me. You scare me."

His hand came up to your cheek, rough thumb brushing  under your eye where a single tear had slipped. If it was from the mind blowing orgasm or the moment, you didn't really know. "Hey," he said softly. "I mean it, too. When I said it earlier. I love you."

You blinked at him. He looked wrecked and exhausted and so damn sincere.

"I'm scared too," he admitted, voice hoarse. "But I'd rather be scared with you than without you."

He exhaled like it gutted him, then leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're not alone in this. I'm right here." You nodded slowly, like you needed to believe it. Maybe you already did.

"I've got you," he whispered again, voice hoarse and steady. "You don't have to be scared of loving me."

You kissed him then—soft, trembling, but real. Like surrender.

You stayed like that for a long moment—his arms around you, your heartbeat slowly calming against his chest, his softening length still inside you. Warm. Close. Steady.

But the mess between you had started to cool, and the stickiness reminded you just how much of a mess you'd both made.

You shifted a little. “We should probably… shower.”

Zoro let out a soft grunt of reluctant agreement. “Yeah.” But he didn’t move, just pressed a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna let go yet.”

You smiled, still tucked against him. "Don't be nasty, Zo'"

He groaned softly at that, a tired smirk tugging at his mouth. "Fair."

Slowly, he lifted you with him—muscle flexing as he stood, arms holding you tight as if the moment you might slip away. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and let him carry you to the bathroom.

He sets you down gently on the cool tile, then turned on the water, adjusting the temperature with practiced hands. You watched him in the soft glow of the vanity light, his back to you, broad and strong.

Your heart clenched again.

He stepped in first, then held out a hand to you. You took it.

The warm water hit your skin and made you shiver, not from cold—but from everything. His hands were careful now, reverent as they ran soap down your spine, across your hips, over your thighs. You did the same to him, touching every inch, grounding both of you in silence and suds and soft kisses under the spray.

The shower was quiet, warm, and full of tenderness.

Zoro stood behind you, one hand on your waist, the other gliding over your body in slow, reverent paths. You leaned back into his chest, letting the steam wrap around you both.

His lips brushed the curve of your shoulder. "Still scared?"

"A little," you admitted.

"But you're still here."

You turned in his arms and looked up at him, water beading down his cheeks and collarbones. "I told you—I love you."

He smiled, slow and quiet. "Say it again."

You did.

And this time, it didn't hurt. It felt like breathing.

A while later you padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of his fluffiest towels, hair damp and clinging to your shoulders. Zoro followed a beat later, towel slung low around his hips, water still glistening on his chest. He looked unfairly good for someone who'd just been thoroughly wrecked—and wrecked you in return.

"You're hogging all the fluff", he muttered as you flopped onto the bed. You tossed him the other towel from the footboard. "Then dry off and come cuddle me, big guy."

He smirked and started patting himself down with the same absent focus he gave everything after a  long day—methodical, a little grumpy, still riding the edge of adrenaline. You watched him without shame, chin resting on your arms. Every scar, every groove of muscle, felt familiar now. Yours, in a way that made your chest feel too small to hold it.

Once dry, he dropped the towel and tugged on the clean boxers you'd left out for him, then slid into bed behind you without a word. His arms curled around your waist like it belonged there. It did.

Curled in bed against him, your voice was a whisper in the dark.

"I don't wanna lose myself in this."

"You won't," Zoro said, half-asleep, hand tracing lazy lines on your spine. "You're not the kind of woman who disappears. You're the kind people orbit around."

You smiled against his chest, a little breathless.

"And if you ever forget," he murmured, dragging your thigh over his hip, "I'll remind you."

You let a soft laugh, kissed his jaw, and closed your eyes—safe, warm loved.

And this time, when you fell asleep, you didn't feel like falling alone.

one two three four

[thegorgonist]

Things are rough but look! These rats are a band! They're Woody Guthrie-ing it up, but with the addition of dueling banjos. I have prints in my shop and memo pads/stickers coming up soon!

[m0remor1]

Who’s Birthday Are It???

Logan Howlett x FtM!Reader

NOTES: FINALLY i’m posting my first oneshot! i’m crazy new to this but i really wanted to post something Wolverine related considering i never shut up about him…,.,,… hope yall enjoy!!

WC: 1,668 words

TAGS: hurt/comfort, Comic!Logan (I def used some of his Origins’ backstory though el oh el), established “friendship”, ALMOST make-out scene, no smut, reader is basically the same height as Logan, really slight description of violence, a little unserious and silly

October 12th.

It used to be a somewhat fun occasion back when Logan was still Jimmy the sickly little Victorian boy. His family was well off enough to afford him gifts and heaps of food that he could barely stomach while showering him in attention he wasn’t all that present for. Could’ve been out of pity or something, but there’s no way of him knowing that now.

The earliest memory of his birthday that stuck after taking three rounds of adamantium between the eyes was Sabretooth hunting him down. The biting cold of bum-fuck nowhere, Canada, the actual biting and tearing of flesh, the hours of endless beatdowns that left Logan in a heap while his torn flesh weaved together layer by layer.

What’s even worse is that the rat bastard made this a tradition.

And considering Logan’s as old as dirt, there’s only so many birthday punchies he can endure from a bloodthirsty maniac before he starts to loathe it. He does his best to block the day out of his mind, ducking the other X-Men to avoid any pointless—and frankly annoying—birthday wishes from them. It’s almost impressive how absent he manages to be on his own birthday.

Cut to what feels like his billionth ‘special day’—he’s shacked up in a seedy dive bar nursing what’s now half a bottle of Jack’s while awaiting his inevitable crashout with his feline freak of a nemesis. His leg is bouncing off the stool, his hand is clenched hard around the glass he’s refilled countless times, and his muscles are tensed in preparation.

You, however, didn’t seem to get the memo.

Well—you did. You’re just politely ignoring it. A completely inconspicuous excess of cash magically found its way to your pockets after a couple battles with anti-mutant thugs, and you’d been hanging off Logan’s shoulder long enough to take note of his favorite brands.

And thank fuck you garnered as much money as you did, because the man’s tastes were almost disgustingly expensive.

And now, here you were with a small box held behind your back while you finally found the bar Logan was brooding in. Took a good couple hours to track em’ down, but a win is a win regardless.

“…You know I ain’t celebratin’. Get lost, bub.” Logan pipes up the moment he catches your scent sneaking closer, a scowl pinning itself to the burned in plasma screen bolted to a high point on the bar.

“Oh come on—you’re not even takin’ gifts? I had to study for this, man.” You huffed in complaint, hovering over the stool next to him.

And before Logan can press you to leave, the box you held behind your back slides into view and thuds softly against the wood counter. It earns a side eye from the older man, a glimpse of shock chipping away at his stoned mask just a teenie bit at the sight of the box’s logo.

“Bribin’ me with a couple smokes ain’t gettin’ you anywh—“ The minute Logan unlatches the box and opens it, he’s met with the sight of a FULL box. Stacked to the brim with tightly wrapped cigars that held the brand’s shiny sticker. He gives you a fully stunned look, almost slack jawed as he quickly shut it and cursed under his breath.

“…I’d make a real shit cop.” He mutters as he taps the worn leather of the seat cushion beside him in a silent demand to take a seat.

And you’re SAT. It’s almost comical how fast you scurry into the seat. You’re lucky it’s bolted to the floor, or else you would have conked your head on the grimy hardwood real hard. There’s a beat of silence as Logan takes a cigar from the top of the box and almost glares at it in an attempt to spot something wrong. But he finds nothing. Shit—they don’t even smell off. He extends a claw halfway to snip off the ends, reaching into his pocket for a lighter.

FINALLY you get to show off again.

You bring a hand to stop him, fishing through your own pocket to fish out the second half of your gift.

“Hollon—“ You whip out a silver zippo lighter. “Ta-da!”

…

“How empty is your wallet right now?” Logan questions, taking the lighter from you and scanning each detail of the silver embossments on it.

“…I think a moth or three is in it right now.” You jest, watching as he drags a finger over the detailing.

There’s a traditional Japanese-style dragon curled on the front, the silver metal darkened in the crevices to look grungy. The rest of it is black, save for the engraving on the side. The letters of his name are straight and jagged, each shiny silver line meant to look like a claw had scratched it in. He’s almost mad at how much he likes it, because it means he has to admit that one—he really is an art nerd, and two—he’s getting soft. His stomach twists a little, but not in the ‘there’s perilous danger incoming and everyone’s gonna die’ way. More in the ‘this stupid kissboy’s worming his way further into his good graces’ kinda way. And he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“This is dumb, y’know. Ain’t a reason for a lighter t’be this extra.” He grumbles as he gives it another shift between his fingers.

“I mean—f’you don’t like it I can jus’—“ You reach for it, but Logan snatches it away before you can even graze it. “Aht—Back off. Yer gonna have t’pry this from my cold dead hands in 200 years.”

He hunches over the lighter slightly, clinking it open and striking the little wheel a couple times before it came to life while you stifle a giggle. The cigar eventually starts to glow a faint red at the tip, and Logan drags in a hefty breath that he holds. It takes a moment before the smoke billows from his lips, and something in you lurches with glee at the sight of said smoke framing his bearded face. His blue eyes dart to you, watching with a raised brow as you pretend to look anywhere else but him. And poor soul—instead of catching on to what were probably some FREAK nasty thoughts—he thinks you want to bum a puff of his cigar. His hand tilts to offer it over, but you shake your head.

“M’good. I’d probably cough up a lung or two.” You don’t wanna admit you hate smoking in general.

Because if we’re being honest, it’s kind of a lie. Sure—if you walked past strangers you’d cough like you had pneumonia to make em feel a little guilty. But with a scent that didn’t make you want to dry heave and a lethally handsome face behind it, you could only bring yourself to pretend that the cigars were too strong for you.

But this… this old man has to go and insist.

“…Could always shotgun it.” It’s aggravating how fast you wanted to blurt out an okay. “Wouldn’t mind sharin’ my gift a lil.”

This little bastard knows what he’s doing. He HAS to, considering there’s a ghost of a smirk on his face at the sight of your shock. You clear your throat behind a clenched hand, trying to play nonchalant and failing horribly.

“I mean—yeah, sure. Whatever, I guess...” You can’t even look at him properly it’s that embarrassing.

Your face runs hot when you lean a little closer, eyes squeezed shut as if you’re ready to get punched or something.

“Good god—relax, bub. Y’look like I’m handin’ you a pipe bomb.” Logan leans in too, but his free hand grabs at your collar and pulls you even closer.

Words are failing you fast, leaving whatever retort you could come up with in the dust before you even thought about the first word. Your eyes peek open, watching his chest puff as he took another drag off the cigar and held it. He lets the smoke die out a little before dragging a calloused hand up the front of your jacket and to the junction between your neck and shoulder.

His large palm presses against the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb swiping across your plush bottom lip and earning a breathy sigh from you. When his hand moves to your jaw to keep your head still, you shiver at the slightly rough drag of his worn fingertips against your skin. Your stomach is doing gymnastics and the both of you can probably hear the drumming of your heart against your ribs. Your hands find purchase on his thighs to keep you upright while you’re leaned forward, and you thank whoever’s up there for giving you an excuse to do so. You part your lips as he gets in your face, blowing the sheered out smoke into your mouth and maintaining crazy amounts of eye contact while you inhale it.

Hands clench at his muscled thighs in a bid to keep you grounded, but it’s mostly just because you’re trying to resist closing the non-existent gap between you two. However, before you can even think of kissing him, your lungs start to burn and you turn away to cough and sputter as transparent smoke puffs out of your mouth.

“Y’ain’t supposed ta breathe it in like a shitty cigarette. Yer supposed to taste it.” Logan can’t help a snicker as he pats your back while you hack up the smoke in your lungs.

“Gee… thanks, you little—“ Whatever expletive you had for him gets lost in another coughing fit, complete with a little wheeze that finally seemed to help clear you up.

You glare over at the other man next to you, but your anger feels unfounded when you catch him almost full on grinning. Sure—it was kind of at your expense—but you got him to smile. On what’s usually the worst day of his year, no less.

…Man—you’re really great at this whole birthday thing.

[bornetoblood]

guys I have a discord you can joint if you want:

[multiversewatchpost]

the mtt nation council has decided that every member needs to have a mtt vs mtt idea. time to pay up, council member multiversewatchpost........

Mtt but they're deities.

They're commonly depicted alongside eachother and feature a lot in eachothers myths, seeing their omens together is considered to be a warning of coming misfortune and disaster.

Horror is the one you pray too when you go on a hunt, when you are seeking to trap and ensnare your pray. The one you turn to when you beg for full fields and forests. He is the one you go to for guidance when your loved ones fall ill, when you have to protect and protect and protect and you are supposed to provide and shield and yet cannot find the strength. He is the one you pray to when famine strikes the lands, the one you beg for forgiveness, you do not know what you may have done to anger him but you know the widespread hunger is your fault. If only you hadn't displeased your God. This is your punishment. And everyone you hold dear will suffer with you.

Offerings made to him are most commonly food items. Grains or vegetables or fruits. Do not try to offer him meat, he wont accept it. Hates being offered life sacrifices. Will for some unknown reason accept eyes despite his aversion to being offered any other body parts.

Very strongly associated with spiders. His priests and most devout tend to purposefully blind themselves in one eye. Some consider this an outdated practice.

Dust is fickle and unpredictable. No sane person would pray to him as their patron deity. He is just as likely to turn on his followers as he is on their enemies. Fast to anger and hard to placate. Unfortunately, his few followers don't seem to get that memo, they are almost fanatical in their worship. Maybe it's because of what he offers, power, magic, it is he who the desperate turn to, those who have nothing left to lose. Those either lost in power or powerlessness. Those who either need or want more, wether it is because they do not see any other way or because they cannot fathom ever having enough. It is said that he curses those who cross him with incurable madness.

Common offerings include blood, flowers, and items with important sentimental value. Offerings are usually burned. Will accept life sacrifices in certain circumstances but it is risky to try.

Mainly know for his connection to magic, but is also occasionally prayed too for other kinds of power such as material wealth. Very easy to piss of. Followers sometimes claim to hear his voice speaking to them and see 'signs' he sends which are invisible to anyone else. It is widely debated if this is real or the result of the mental degradation a lot of his followers seem to eventually face. Mainly associated with mice but also occasionally robins or magpies.

Finally killer, the one that remains hidden in the shadows, decay itself, his presence clings to his followers, the world around them seems more dull, lifeless and dark. He is the one assassins follow, the one thieves beg for concealment, the one that victims pray too, not for freedom or safety but for vengeance. The stench of rot seems to cling to his favored disciples, their enemies die from mysterious illnesses or are plagued with pests.

He is pretty much exclusively given life offerings. Some tabboos acts, mainly cannibalism are commonly committed in his name. Will also accept roses or deaths in a more metaphorical sense such as the death of a dream or passion.

Is closely associated with animals such as rats, mosquitoes and pigeons. Just, any 'pest' really. Mostly rats tho. Also very strongly associated with disease. Is associated with the night and shadows but that is more of a recent thing, older disciples of his will scoff at you for such a thing.

Or did you mean mtt vs mtt as in mtt fighting eachother-

.....in that case I'm sorry but my idea doesn't include that.....you can make their followers fight or smth....maybe in some of the mythology they fight idk...

(Psssst, people reading this, there is now even more of this au on my blog under #moths mythology au tag)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to screw up a whistleblower law

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me THIS WEDNESDAY (Apr 17) in CHICAGO, then Torino (Apr 21) Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Corporate crime is notoriously underpoliced and underprosecuted. Mostly, that's because we just choose not to do anything about it. American corporations commit crimes at 20X the rate of real humans, and their crimes are far worse than any crime committed by a human, but they are almost never prosecuted:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card

We can't even bear to utter the words "corporate crime": instead, we deploy a whole raft of euphemisms like "risk and compliance," and that ole fave, the trusty "white-collar crime":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

The Biden DOJ promised it would be different, and they weren't kidding. The DOJ's antitrust division is kicking ass, doing more than the division has done in generations, really swinging for the fences:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/22/reality-distortion-field/#three-trillion-here-three-trillion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Main Justice – the rest of the DOJ – promised that it would do the same. Deputy AG Lisa Monaco promised an end to those bullshit "deferred prosecution agreements" that let corporate America literally get away with murder. She promised to prosecute companies and individual executives. She promised a lot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/22/reality-distortion-field/#three-trillion-here-three-trillion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Was she serious? Well, it's not looking good. Monaco's number two gnuy, Benjamin Mizer, has a storied career – working for giant corporations, getting them off the hook when they commit eye-watering crimes:

https://prospect.org/justice/2024-04-09-reform-groups-lack-of-corporate-prosecutions-doj/

Biden's DOJ is arguably more tolerant of corporate crime than even Trump's Main Justice. In 2021, the DOJ brought just 90 cases – the worst year in a quarter-century. 2022's number was 99, and 2023 saw 119. Trump's DOJ did better than any of those numbers in two out of four years. And back in 2000, Justice was bringing more than 300 corporate criminal prosecutions.

Deputy AG Monaco just announced a new whistleblower bounty program: cash money for ratting out your crooked asshole co-worker or boss. Whistleblower bounties are among the most effective and cheapest way to bring criminal prosecutions against corporations. If you're a terrified underling who can't afford to lose your job after narcing out your boss, the bounty can outweigh the risk of industry-wide blacklisting. And if you're a crooked co-conspirator thinking about turning rat on your fellow criminal, the bounty can tempt you into solving the Prisoner's Dilemma in a way that sees the crime prosecuted.

So a new whistleblower bounty program is good. We like 'em. What's not to like?

Sorry, folks, I've got some bad news:

https://www.corporatecrimereporter.com/news/200/stephen-kohn-on-the-justice-department-plan-to-offer-whistleblower-awards/

As the whistleblower lawyer Stephen Kohn points out to Russell Mokhiber of Corporate Crime Reporter, Monaco's whistleblower bounty program has a glaring defect: it excludes "individuals who were involved with the crime." That means that the long-suffering secretary who printed the boss's crime memo and put it in the mail is shit out of luck – as is the CFO who's finally had enough of the CEO's dirty poker.

This is not how other whistleblower reward programs work: the SEC and CFTC whistleblower programs do not exclude people involved with the crime, and for good reason. They want to catch kingpins, not footsoldiers – and the best way to do that is to reward the whistleblower who turns on the boss.

This isn't a new idea! It's in the venerable False Claims Act, an act that signed into law by President Abraham Lincoln. As Kohn says, making "accomplices" eligible to participate in whistleblower rewards is how you get people like his client, who relayed a bribe on behalf of his boss, to come forward. As Lincoln said in 1863, the purpose of a whistleblower law is to entice conspirators to turn on one another. Like Honest Abe said, "it takes a rogue to catch a rogue."

And – as Kohn says – we've designed these programs so that masterminds can't throw their minor lickspittles under the buss and collect a reward: "I know of no case where the person who planned or initiated the fraud under any of the reward laws ever got a dime."

Kohn points out that under Monaco, the DOJ just ignores the rule that afford anonymity to whistleblowers. That's a big omission – the SEC got 18,000 confidential claims in 2023. Those are claims that the DOJ can't afford to miss, given their abysmal, sub-Trump track record on corporate crime prosecutions.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/15/whistleblown/#lisa-monaco