#CAT cobalt core

[ryunumber]

C.A.T. From Cobalt Core?

//cat.exe/CAT has a Ryu Number of 2.

[pupsmailbox]

STARTING WITH C

MASCULINE︰ cade. caden. caelan. caiden. cairo. cal. cale. caleb. caleb.. callahan. callan. callaway. callen. callum. calvin. cam. camden. camdyn. cameron. camilo. camron. cannon. carey. carl. carleton. carlos. carlton. carson. carter. cary. case. casey. cash. casimir. cason. casper. cassius. caulder. cavan. cayden. cayson. cecil. cedar. cedric. cesar. chace. chad. chadwick. chaim. chance. chandler. channing. charles. charley. charlie. charlton. chas. chase. chaz. chesley. chester. chet. chip. chris. christian. christie. christopher. chuck. chuckie. chucky. cillian. clair. clancy. clarence. clark. claud. claude. clay. clayton. clem. clement. cletis. cletus. cleve. cliff. clifford. clifton. clint. clinton. clive. clyde. cobie. cody. cohen. colbert. colby. cole. coleman. colin. collin. collins. collyn. colson. colt. colten. colter. colton. connell. conner. connor. conor. conrad. cooper. corbin. cordell. corey. cori. cornelius. cornell. corwin. cory. cosmo. coty. coy. craig. crawford. cree. creighton. crew. crispian. crispin. cristian. crofton. cruz. cullen. curran. curt. curtis. cuthbert. cy. cyan. cyril. cyrus.

FEMININE︰ cadence. caelie. cailin. calanthe. calanthia. caleigh. cali. callie. calliope. cam. camellia. cameron. camila. camilla. camille. camryn. candace. candi. candice. candy. candyce. capri. cara. careen. carey. carina. caris. carissa. carla. carlisa. carlisle. carly. carlyn. carmel. carmella. carmen. carol. carolina. caroline. carolyn. carrie. carter. casey. cass. cassandra. cassidy. cassie. cat. cataleya. catalina. catharine. catherine. cathleen. cathryn. cecelia. cecilia. cecily. cedar. celandine. celeste. celestine. celia. celinda. celine. chalice. chana. chandler. chanel. chanelle. channing. chantal. chantel. chantelle. chanté. charisma. charissa. charisse. charity. charla. charlee. charleen. charleigh. charlene. charley. charli. charlie. charlotte. charmaine. charnette. chasity. chastity. chaya. chelle. chelsea. chelsey. chelsie. cher. cherette. cheri. cherice. cherie. cherilyn. cherise. cherish. cherry. cherryl. cheryl. chesley. chevonne. cheyanne. cheyenne. chloe. chloë. chrissie. chrissy. christa. christabel. christabella. christabelle. christal. christen. christi. christiana. christie. christina. christine. christobel. christy. chrysanta. chrystal. ciara. cicely. ciera. cierra. cinda. cindi. cindra. cindy. claire. clara. clare. clarette. claribel. clarice. clarinda. clarissa. clarity. claudia. clematis. clemence. clemency. clementine. cleo. clover. coleen. colene. colette. colleen. collins. collyn. connie. constance. cora.

NEUTRAL︰ cab. cable. cache. cade. caden. cadence. cai. cal. callahan. callaway. callout. calm. camari. cambrian. camdyn. cameron. camille. camp. campbell. camren. camryn. candle. candy. cannon. canyon. captain. captor. carcass. carousel. carry. carsen. carsyn. carter. cartier. cas. cascade. case. casey. cash. casino. casket. casper. caspian. cassidy. castle. casual. cat. catalogue. cavalry. cave. cavity. cay. caydence. caylen. cedar. celeb. cement. cemetery. century. chain. chainsaw. chandler. channing. chaos. char. charge. charity. charleston. charley. charlie. charly. charm. chase. chayce. checkers. cheer. chemical. cherish. chernobyl. cherry. chevelle. chevy. chiffon. chilly. chip. chirp. chop. chosen. chozen. chris. chrome. chrysalis. chrysanthemum. church. cider. cidney. cinder. cinnamon. city. cj. clarity. clarke. classic. clay. clear. clementine. cliché. click. cliff. cloak. clock. closure. cloud. clover. clownery. cob. cobalt. cobolt. cobra. cocoa. code. codin. colby. colt. comatose. combat. conley. control. cookie. cooper. copeland. copper. cor. coral. corbyn. corduroy. core. corvette. cory. cosmic. count. court. courtesy. courtney. cove. coven. covet. coy. coyote. cradle. crane. crank. crash. cree. crest. crew. crime. crimson. crisis. critter. croc. crosby. cross. crow. crown. cruise. crush. crystal. cupcake. curse. cyan. cyber. cylinder. cypress. cécile.

[heightsofmadness]

steam events where they show off demos are so bizarre because I always download like 10, try them all for 5 minutes, get bored pretty much immediately, except that maybe once in every two or three events there's a demo that utterly blows my pants off and makes the whole concept worth it

anyway Cobalt Core feels like someone opened a portal to one of the less awful timelines and took the source code for their version of Slay the Spire, so it has a bunch of really clever creative mechanics and a ridiculously cozy vibe for a game meant to kill you

the "campfire" equivalent (a repair bay) is staffed by a cat person who can randomly greet you with "meowdy"

...but also the core loop is incredibly tight, feels really satisfying, and even in the demo there's this constant sense of "okay that run was really fucking fun but I want to try this other kind of build and maybe I won't get the cards that make that work but I absolutely trust that that other build will work too" etc etc

just a really fucking good demo, game comes out in two weeks, I have it wishlisted and you should too, holy shit

[wolverenmayden]

Lines That Never Die

A Poem on Nihonga, Anime, and Manga

I. THE BREATH OF BRUSH — Nihonga In silent rooms where shadows glide, Where rice-paper screens divide the light, An old hand dips a trembling brush Into a world of black and white. No shout, no storm, no need to rush — Just stillness, deep and infinite, Where nature’s truth is told in lines, And all the noise is left behind.

A single stroke: a mountain sleeps, Its breath the mist, its dreams the pines. A crane mid-flight, its wing mid-arc, Suspended in eternal time. A pond reflects the cherry’s bloom, But not in pink — in subtle hues, With pigment ground from shells and stone, A past reborn in cobalt blues.

This is Nihonga, old and slow, A painting not to shock, but show How silence paints the world more loud Than all the neon or the crowd. It whispers truths we’ve long forgot — That beauty lives in every dot, And what is seen in still repose May tell us more than motion shows.

The seasons pass in muted grace, A falling leaf, a weathered face. The empty space is not a lack — It’s where the spirits echo back. And in that hush, we might behold The very soul of what was told: A fleeting world, so clear, so brief — A line of ink, a falling leaf.

II. THE MOTION OF STARS — Anime But time, like rivers, will not stay, And ink gave birth to light one day. A screen replaced the hanging scroll, The brush evolved into control. And in a burst of sound and sight, The stillness surged with newfound might. From temple paths to neon signs — The artist chased new, burning lines.

This is Anime — dream set free, Where every frame is poetry. A girl with stars behind her eyes Might talk to cats or touch the skies. A cyborg breaks his fate apart, A boy rewrites the beating heart. And though it plays with myth and flame, It seeks the soul, and feels the same.

The schoolyard love, the distant war, The quiet death we can’t ignore, The way two hands might almost touch — In anime, it all is much. It dares to cry, to laugh, to scream, To chase and fight and lose the dream. It finds the child inside the grown, And teaches: “You are not alone.”

From Miyazaki’s soaring grace To darker depths where angels fall, Anime holds a mirror up To who we are, and dares it all. With every frame drawn by a hand, It captures storms we barely stand. It doesn’t move to just delight — It moves to wound, to heal, to write.

III. THE SILENCE BETWEEN PANELS — Manga Then come the pages, black and white, Where sound is born from silent sight. Manga speaks in lines and gaps, In pauses, blinks, in fates collapsed. It is the still before the scream, The snow that falls inside a dream. A panel breaks, a frame divides, And all the world between them hides.

You read from right to left, and see A world unfold so quietly. A boy with demons in his blood, A goddess rising from the mud, A samurai who walks through shame, A girl who draws and speaks no name. And though there’s ink, and little more, You feel it thunder through the core.

What film implies with music loud, What books must name and thoughts enshroud, Manga suggests with just a glance, A shadow thrown, a hand askance. The way one eye avoids the light May tell you all about the fight A soul endures to still belong — A single pose, a silent song.

Each genre dances on the page — Romance, horror, slice of age, A schoolboy fights, a spirit weeps, A killer prays, a robot sleeps. And through it all, the artist draws Without applause, without a pause, Creating worlds from shade and curve, And offering the heart's last nerve.

IV. THREE THREADS, ONE SOUL So what connects this ancient thread From hand-made scroll to mech in red? What ties the crane to space-time tears? What binds a brush to fanbase cheers?

It’s line — the sacred, simple thing, From painted pine to dragon wing. A line of ink, of thought, of soul, That captures what we can’t control. Whether motionless or full of flame, It draws us close, it speaks our name.

Nihonga bows to nature’s grace. Anime leaps through time and space. Manga holds the breath of years, And tells it all through joy and tears. Three forms, one spirit, always true — To draw the world, and draw it through. To take the pain, the dream, the sky, And show us all the reasons why.

So let the brush forever glide, Let manga’s ink and anime’s tide Forever sweep across our view, And make the fleeting world feel new. For though the times and tools may change, The soul of art remains the same — A single line, a human cry, A story drawn to never die.

[aellatrg]

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Template from The Cobalt Athenaeum

[cleverthylacine]

I'm not well versed in Transformers, but who is your favorite Autobot? What's one thing that if Hasbro called you up right now and said they would do whatever you suggested, you tell them?

My favourite Autobot is easy because I don't like most of them very much. I love Decepticons.

It's either Jazz or Ratchet or Rodimus, depending on the phase of the moon and whether my brain is in RavWaves mode or Deadlock mode.

Jazz and Ratchet and Rodimus are all people who probably would have been Decepticons if it weren't for a stroke of fate.

I also love Rosanna, but she's a civilian and she's been in like 3 things, one of which almost everyone hates.

The problems with Autobots:

they tend to use the same colour schemes which makes them hard to tell apart

many of them are boring af

the Decepticon movement was a legitimate revolution against an extremely bigoted and oppressive government, and the Autobots were the liberals who patted them on the hand and said "we can do this the nice way" even though most of them were from social classes that were literally disposable.

some of them are fucking fascists

some of them are just such goodie two shoes rule bound characters you have to laugh (Star Saber in anything other than IDW was probably the robot version of Sheldon Cooper once)

It's really only in TFA that I don't think Optimus Prime is a giant hypocrite. I don't hate him. I think he's an awesome character. I enjoy him a lot! I also write a lot of fic where he gets his aft handed to him, at least verbally.

But I don't really sympathise with him. Because even when he's unfailingly sweet, like in TFP, he's still...a part of the problem, not the solution.

In some series the Decepticons did become horrible and genocidal, which is wrong, of course, but that led in IDW at least to both sides playing atrocity chicken.

In other series the Decepticons are anti-human mostly because we're in their way and we like the Autobots. In the Bumblebee movie they never even wanted to come here, but they had to--it is Prime's fault that their war came to Earth.

If Hasbro was willing to do whatever I said I would ask them to create a series of all the femme characters most people don't know about. And not make them teeny tiny Core Class dolls. (I own a few of them because they're cute, but.)

I would get them to include Ravage now that ES has confirmed her for a femme. (She is ACAB, assigned cat at birth.)

This would also include:

Esmeral, who should really be a leaderclass because her husband is the size of a small planet (from the Victory manga)

General Strika, who is the least feminine female character in all of transformers and a butch goddess of war (from TFA and Beast Machines)

Botanica because she's cool AF

Rosanna and her evil twin Flipsides (Rosanna's in KP but both of them are in... TFA, I thought? For a heartbeat.)

Howlback (done like her twin sister Ravi, with biped-to-quad transformation that does not involve extra limbs hanging off, because both MMC and Xtransbots have done it just fine) from the Cobalt Sentries who never got a show

Lyzack (from Victory -- the twin sister of Leozack who defends the home front and is a teal and pink seeker)

Nautica (from the IDW comics, who is the most adorable of nerds even if she is Ravage's unwanted aemula/kismesis/hatecrush until they make friends)

the Megatronia combiner which includes Megaempress, Trickdiamond, Lunaclub, Flowspade and Moonheart)

Minerva (yes there's a legacy but it's tiny and they made it a walgreens exclusive)

Clobber (from Cyberverse)

Nightbird (G1 not ROTB)

Termagax (Megatron's mom from the IDW 2019 series)

I have nothing against Elita-1, Arcee, Windblade, Chromia, Moonracer and Slipstream but some people can name hundreds of male characters and only those six and not even all of them.

If I was also G-d of the Transformers franchise as a whole, I would revive Kiss Players, cut out all the bad sex jokes and dropped panties of teenagers, rename a few things -- we do not need a base called "the spiral vagina" -- and take the plot we were actually given in between sex jokes, which was very cool, and write it all out as a comic/story/cartoon. They did the plot in the last few episodes of the radio show after kind of leading up to it very slowly between dirty jokes.

Everyone says Kiss Players is the worst thing Transformers ever made. I'm sorry, that's RID 2015, which is a Transformers show for the "Blue Lives Matter" crowd where the entire plot of the show is to find all these low-class Decepticons who are from denigrated castes that escaped from a prison ship and throw them all back in jail. Like seriously fuck you very much.

I will take perverted panty jokes over asskissing the cops any day. Besides some of the stuff that looks so bad and gross looks so bad and gross because it is--you're not supposed to be down with it, you're supposed to guess that a certain person is being groomed looooong before she figures it out. and the main human characters are actually Secretly Lesbians

I'm sorry this is way more info than you asked for but this is my main hyperfixation other than thylacines, fossas, small wild cats that can't eat you, and other cute weird predators.

[missedstations]

"Warm Water Fish Moving In" - dg nanouk okpik

Out there, believing a spiritual ruin the body passes & the dead found scavenged hock to fetlock, on these beaches. The body rests on round patches of dried sea grasses. Out there, the night entrance looms from earthly, inward, silent escapes like sound shapes of the cosmos swirling. The wall of salt-white chance. I tap lightly like an alderfly. Upon cool, damp ground I throw stones half-halt. TSTHHsssHHH! Pebbles quickly fly windward restraining the nightglow livery. A freehold. I hang on the seaside banister. For here: my ears bleed like a cat’s in the evening; my nose hears instinct; my eyes smell salt! I crouch to the ocean’s ocean watching waves fold & spray. Fold & spray Here: in bone-shackled shells; around my flowered bound hands; tightly held—still my free feet walk as a beetle across a sidewalk. I find: the dead spot of the fawn lily; three human heads; dusty; tampered; stilted; like dried up blossoms. But, black on blue. Out there: dust particles; a somber, solar moon waning; & beetle browed. Large dome ice cores wake the dead living to the time & hour of melting igloos & ice caves, rising butter clams clamped shut rotten & rancid. Out there, I find albino black grouse huddled in covens. Here bull thistle in my intestines, toxic shock & fodder in my seal poke side bag. Slung over my shoulder a grimace of a mask peeking at me. And here, harbor seal walks upright, porpoise circle the screech wail hides, at the back of my mouth, in here. Unblinking pupils of owls live. There moon trips grow dark— here the annual growth of a fish scale is 33 inches. Fine debris of rocks scatters bluest eggs of magpies, cobalt. Enclosed by a caribou herd in protection like a nest weaved to the spruce. And here we polish lying in snow our bodies to purify or free of fleas and louse. In here, I peel off a bony cast on my head & the temporary loss of my soul person lives freely. Here I am not woman or man, the corpse is played out before life. I find finger fish holes. Here like cancer a jar of oil is 21 dollars a liter & might be 10,400,320 years old. I intoned her, I purse my lips I am pursued by my eye shape. Hereherehereherehere again my coverlid & domed mind hides under closed eyes feels the warm water of fish moving moving in.

[earth1248]

Welcome to Ask-1248, an ask blog for my Marvel universe!

The Golden Age of Heroes, often referred to just as the Heroic Age, is over. The Avengers have fallen, broken by a disaster that left its core members presumed dead. Many other heroes have moved on to do other things with their lives. That's not to say superhumans have been forgotten - quite the opposite. But with SHIELD in complete disorder and the lines between good and evil becoming blurrier with each passing day, a desperate director turns to an unusual source, proposing the idea of reviving an old-fashioned notion.

The culmination of almost ten years of roleplaying, creative writing, and staring at blank Google Doc pages for hours on end, this is an ongoing project in which I create by own Marvel universe by doing everything I can to not make it "just another Marvel universe." I want to break new ground, try new things, and explore new concepts.

So, with the pretext out of the way, here's a list of the main characters on this ask blog, each with links to their own Google Doc with more information about them:

Michael Hikari, Codename: Spider-Man

Alex Arashi, Codename: War Machine

Cobalt, Subject #027

Felicia Hardy, Codename: Black Cat

Ellie Coll, Codename: Scorpion

Charlotte Marando, Codename: Agent Venom

Blues, Michael Hikari of Earth-9673

Go ahead and send any and all questions you have for them - we're open for business!

[wildshadowtamer]

OC Asks Are Open!

fuck it, OC time, here's the list of the open ones, up to change: Their all from my original world, Hexagons and Hearts, so feel free to ask about worldbuilding and backstory as well!

Any of the Nebula Siblings except the babies (Wild, Cheno, Echo, Ella, Benji, Spiral, Valen, Laya, Dea, Trial, Eon, Casey, Lollipop, Chesher, Castor)

Cobalt, Babydoll and Crevan

the Royal Family (King, Dutchess, Duke, Prince, Princess, Payt, Commander)

some of the Tenir Warriors (Tenir, Bat, Tama, Core, Sky)

Jamie/Dzan

the Killer family (Crow, Rook, Raven, Robin)

Donner and Sasha

Calla, Acacia, Forager, Taidorm

the Frostdol family (Pharoh, Victoria, Ruse, Snow, Albino)

the Cats (Mallow, Fang, Doomy)

[clawsextended]

oh how one might assume the cat is accustomed to it. to this delectable ownership. how one might figure so many look at her precisely that way, speak to her exactly like this.

but it never strikes her.

it has no hold over her, has no affect outside of her own gratification. the loop becomes a closed thing, a continuous satisfaction she receives that matters more for herself. and yet here, oh here, addison says that she’s selina’s and selina feels deliriously fortunate to be called such a thing. insanity seeps into her marrow and her heartbeat slams again, louder, louder, the doctor’s heart-rate a quickening thing.

it rises like a tide continuous and she’s drowning and it’s all but insidious and she has never truly felt before this moment. she feels like she has too many teeth in her mouth and she cannot close it, her careful, smooth-slick fingertips probing past the threshold with a greedy sound all but swallowed by the cat’s insistent want.

she shivers again and again, her body pitiful, she knows, something she is nothing but collared by, and the gratification is like riding varying individual waves as they crest. oh, she’s so fucking alive.

flintlock eyes, bloodstone-obsidian, shades of faint ochre in the dark, turn up to meet cobalt calmly. her every movement is perfectly smooth — one would assume no injury had ever befallen her; it is, perhaps, astonishing that addison montgomery is in a very small margin who has seen her so very raw and had no reason to fear.

the cat is but a kitten as she kisses her, messy and careless, as she never stops touching her but slides down her body with the easy stride of her knees. she slithers back around one nipple, the other afforded the same care, a soft purr in her throat as she moves. aeschylus’ warmth is addictive to achilles reborn. no, not a kitten, a jaguar cub.

she brushes her tongue down every inch of skin she can touch with the careful seam of her tongue, replaces the easy movements of her fingers with her mouth. the taste is an impossible thing to convey and so instead she manages only to suffocate her own pitiful moan, closing her own chronic pout around addison’s core. it’s the way she couples it with the intrusion of long, slender fingers, how she can’t help but shiver with her own quiet whimper. something too like ambrosia glistens on her tongue and paints the corner of formerly scarlet lips.

“of course it’s all mine.”

she peers up, softly brushes her nose against the doctor’s belly. her gaze is tinged with a touch of something acid green in the dark, like a camera flash. she purrs with a soft sigh, breath deliberately directed.

“who’ll fuck you better than the big bad cat?”

there is a complication to selina. a painful uniqueness that is her damage writ large and loud across her skin. she feels it — fuck, she feels it, a flush spreading across her like geography.

she cannot be warm. she’s cursed to a soul that’s incapable of retaining heat ever again, and her body temperature reflects in a strangely cool degree, almost chilly. she is incapable of being truly comfortable, but sometimes flashes of overstimulation allow her to feel something.

she’s always cold to the touch. she can’t imagine it’s comfortable. —she tugs free the sweater she’s wearing and lightly tosses it aside, leaves her in black lace herself, nothing but immense scar tissue. there is a harsh, jagged line dug into the dead center of her chest, roman numerals carved clumsily into her side. the recent bullet the other has dug out of her has vacated, but the healing wound peeks from the adonis dents of those perfect hips. her abdomen cuts into a flawless symmetry, physique something grecian. one could drink communion wine from the perfect dip of her collarbones.

she’s nothing but intensity, the peak of gooseflesh, a body absolutely riddled with the unkindness of memory. there’s a dark cluster of freckles at the highest point of her right cheekbone, a constant presence of spots white and pink in alternate shades, keloid and otherwise.

she kisses her again, gives an enormous shudder when she’s forgotten, left her sweater behind. she hates this — hates it. hates the divided thought until she slips her tongue into her mouth, keeps a hand moving in careful ministrations. she’s nothing, nothing but instinct.

“whatever you want.”

she’s a pleaser, she lives for it. it’s a preference of hers, without quite meaning for it to be. but it does happen, after all.

she shivers. entirely. her whole body. her pupils pool ink, consume the warm touch of milk chocolate.

she is beyond foolish, she knows, but she’s never been more happy to be so.

[sourstars]

yearning man; the cruelest condition | kuroo tetsuro.

giving hallmark with this one; soulmates who don't grow old until meeting?? sob. wrote in the same haze i did when i wrote midoriya’s. soulmate kuroo at his hopeless! if you find any mistakes please let me know!

He has learned, contrary to the belief of many, that he rather abhors the allure of red, but adores the particular shades of blue that morph from the original; ultramarine, cobalt, electric, sky, baby, periwinkle (which he believes should be considered more of a purple and probably is)—but his favorite for the last seventy years has been robin-egg blue.

He belives that in the time of looking for ‘the one’, he has discovered instead what makes life bearable. He likes his coffee black but with two sugars, sometimes three if he’s feeling risky, tea with sometimes too much honey, four pillows in bed so he has two to cuddle. He likes dogs, not as well as cats but has a certain endearment for his neighbor’s cocker spaniel, who seems to enjoy laying across his feet in protest whenever he visits, refusing to let him leave. He likes the routine of visiting the shops that open and close; the bookstore that burnt down and was rebuilt in defiance, the bar with the bartender who tells him really good jokes, the fabric store that trades gossip as well as wares. A maximalist to his core, but in seventy years, at least things would be there if someone wanted a list; what have you found, if not the other half of your soul?

(Not enough.)

(“I feel I could eat endlessly and still be starving.” He says, and Kenma waits for the punchline. “Because I feel what would nourish me is what has not found me.”

“I suggest you start writing poetry. You would be a hit with goths.” But his best friend would know him in every variation; he is a painting stripped of cover, in every medium. “You’re talking about your soulmate again.”

“Yes. There’s no comparison. None.”

“Giving up already?” Kenma smiles at that, laughs hard enough that his eyes squint and says; “And here I thought you’d strip the world to bone.”)

In truth, it is not for the lack of trying. He has spent every penny of his fortune and created another just to look into every face, buy every ticket, spend every hour creating a map of where you could be—he has been to every continent, every state, he’s sure nearly every city but another may always rise out a former’s grave. For a year he gave up searching, but a year turned into two and two into five and then Kenma sent him a picture of a stranger, who walked with a grace so familiar to him that he imagined he had lost control of his jaw.

And he imagines it must’ve been a fluke—that some things aren’t tethered to others the way people entertain, but then Hinata sends a photo, and then the Miyas, and the Tanakas, even the Haibas after. Everywhere he’s went, everywhere he’s not, you are there, dressed in his heartstrings. Perhaps this is his eternal punishment; knowing you want something so badly and never being close enough to grasp it.

(It is so strange, he thinks one night, to feel like the compass needle without direction. North, he knows, but the star is missing and he has been painting directions on kites, tacking fliers to all of the telescopes, hoping it will see.)

“It’s a little creepy to take pictures of strangers without them knowing. I’m pretty sure it’s also illegal.” Kuroo pinches a strawberry between his fingers, biting into it to the stem, letting sweetness coat his tongue. The longer he chews, he can feel the bitterness that will dry the throat. “I still think it’s just a coincidence. It won’t be just anyone, I’m sure I’ll know it when I see them.”

“Say it again and maybe you’ll convince yourself this time.” He can practically hear Tsukishima’s eye roll. “They’re definitely looking for someone. Hinata said they came into the bookshop just after you did and took a walk around the store but didn’t buy anything. I think you just have a broken radar,"

Kuroo’s mouth twists. “Are you sure it’s not just a shoplifter? Or just a coincidence? Hinata wouldn’t be able to see a criminal if they stood in front of him wearing handcuffs.” He pauses, mulling over his thoughts, listening to the thunder of rain outside of his window. “…That makes me sound like a dick—but the point is that I find it a little hard to believe it all comes together now.”

“You are a dick, but consider the idea the universe isn’t a total idiot. I’ve been trying to avoid my ‘other half’ for a month now and every time I think I’ve done it—wham! There they are, staring me in the face,"

“You ever hear about magnets?”

“Stop.”

“That’s literally what it is. You hate each other and can’t stop finding ways to eat each other’s faces? Magn—”

“Tetsuro. Kuroo. You need to go outside—you need to go outside right now. I’m looking out of my window, I think I just saw—”

“Please don’t tell me—”

“—them. Turning the corner of Third. They’re holding… two coffee cups?” Tsukishima falls quieter then, voice tough as steel. “My advice; stop being a coward. If it’s wrong, it’s wrong but at least you’d know. Life goes on. Go.”

He has the best and worst of friends. “Fuck. I hate you. Getting my shoes.”

(It has taken so much to get here. He hopes in the mail room of destinies, he is a package only slightly dinged, hopes he is something someone is expecting and still excited for.)

He’s forgotten his umbrella and his hair sticks flat to his head when he arrives, inky blackness falling in front of his eyes, but his feet continue to slam against cement, his phone bounces in his pocket, his heart skitters across his ribs. The drizzle turns to downpour, downpour to drizzle. It seems even Mother Nature has a heart unwilling to live so softly.

Each step, Kuroo thinks; life is like a box of chocolates; something is always missing and every version of the map leads you opposite of where you want to go. He thinks; regardless of anyone’s age, they will never know anything, or everything. They will always be surprised.

When he sees you in person, he almost trips; like a child that learns to walk, he has misplaced the knowledge. The air escapes his lungs, the words he’d muttered under his breath have forgotten his name; he believes now, his senses have moved out and are backed up on the rent.

You catch his eye when he turns the corner, waving with one to-go cup, and time begins again. “Hello.”

Kuroo stares into your face, mouth parted, raindrops sliding past his eyes, down his cheeks. He is speechless—this is what love must be, to be both lighthouse and ship wanting to dock and never knowing when you’ll find a harbor.

He thinks; he is too old to have lovesickness such as this. He thinks; he is too young to know the type of wanting that craters into his soul like this. He thinks; that is okay, he has the rest of his life to love and hate figuring it out. He is right.

“It’s too late now,” he says. He wrings his hands in front of him, feels the need to tap his shoe. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”

You smile and he swears he hears music. “About time, second place.” He believes if the word sublime had a name, it would be yours. You are paradise sent, a catastrophically perfect being. A hurricane where he is perpetually in the eye. “I’ve been looking for you.”

(It cannot possibly be this easy.)

Kuroo hears the sidewalk traffic as people walk around you both, feels the cutting breeze, the firmness of the earth. It helps him breathe and yet scares him so. Life has a way of being unbearably real. “So I hear. You like blue?”

“Only this kind.”

“Interesting.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “I think I was made for you,” He feels he might hiccup up his heart. “I think we shared a star, once.”

Electricity, sunlight, supernovas, comets—none as bright as the sight of your half-lidded, knowing eyes, the unrestrained curl of your lips. He thinks that if he were to knit your hands, your thumb would brush the beauty marks on the side of his finger, over his knuckles, your wrists would kiss, the spaces of his body would fit yours.

It is quite impossible, he would’ve said, but he is a believer, now, of all things unblemished, all things unexplainable. He feels you could brush his soul with the pad of your finger and it would bring him to his knees.

(But maybe it is.)

The cups are placed into his hands, the smell of peppermint and vanilla, wafting. Your fingertips are hot, palms warm as they are softly pressed into his cheeks. You’re a breaths-width away, voice is twisted into song, and he bets the world has fallen from his feet.

“Finally.”

(He is hopelessly, endlessly, terribly devoured by the loveliness. It has been a vacation where he has painstakingly, wonderfully arrived home. He has never been this peaceful. Here’s the north star, he thinks, I was looking for it, and it was looking for me.

He will never love another color like this one again.)

reblogs are preferred and appreciated!

[zpl1nt3r3d-b0n3-zhardz]

list of c names!!

cam

Christian

Christina

cricket

celest

celestian

Celestia

cepheid

cross

cennit

centos

cordelia

Cameron

coden

corden

confet

clutz

culprit

core

clay

Creed

Callahan

Cyrus

cupid

cyan

cyani

click

cobalt

chime

chai

crensh

Cassius

calem

churro

cicada

corv

corvid

cedar

Calcite

cryptid

cyzen

cayzen

cenvor

corciel

corveun

corvush

cicion

correis

caisen

caber

callin

camden

calliope

cen

calinova

calceus

calico

calix

crator

crux

crest

cruise

Cade

cat

cambell

calgary

cooper

coop

caytana

catrina

cateria

cetris

caleo

ceto

coco

cocoa

chirpette

callioc

cammet

cavv

cassiopeia

cassian

cassinovia

castorn

castor

cupith

casini

casinia

casinin

Calypso

caliber

cemp

celsion

caliber

consetta

conseteus

cyprus

cy

Corbin

canivet

cynth

Cynthia

cotton

Cyrillic

Cypress

cloverton

canna

cannon

cher

cherry

clementine

camellia

coleus

collision

coliseum

coriander

crisper

[vesperstalksclones]

What will you do after Mandalore?

Rated teen

Ingredients: kissy kissy, pining, angst, oogling, heavy petting, Rex likes using the F word a lot and thinks plenty about his tool

Sketch by @i-got-no-bones

He spotted her across the sky plaza that they had commandeered as a landing platform. Arms crossed, feet spread, back arched into her posture; every inch of her shining with pride as she watched her men tend to their business. 

Rex was content to merely stand and observe for a moment. Ahsoka Tano had disappeared over a year ago, radio silent. Furious and hurting, no doubt, after the Jedi council, men and women she had called family, had handed her over to the republic judiciary system to be tried on circumstantial evidence for a crime she didn't commit. Her name had been cleared and the culprit caught, but when the council invited her back sheepishly, after her humiliating excommunication, she graciously told them to shit in their hat, turned heel and walked away. He respected her for that, also envied her the freedom to be able to do so. If he stuck his birds to the GAR and turned his back, his parting gift would, at best, be a blaster shot to the shebs. Property didn't get to make choices like that.

He could have tracked her down, but she hadn't left him so much as a scribble in parting. He had not taken it well. First came panic - she was alone, who would have her back? Then anger - the 501st and Torrent squadron weren't good enough to stay for? Fuck her!!! The pain of abandonment - didn't the years fighting side by side mean anything, the men who had died protecting her life? Blind fury at the council that had driven her away - he had demolished several training druids to cope with that. Jealousy; that perhaps she had retreated somewhere… to someone… someone male... to lick her wounds and seek comfort. Like that litte Bonterri fuck stick. 

"No, old man, you turned yourself pretty inside out over Ahsoka's nonexistent good bye", Rex mused, a wry smile spreading over his lips. After about four weeks of stewing in his own volatile pit of self-pity and rage, during a particularly long night of insomnia spiced with bourbon whiskey, he realized why he was so angry. Fuck the Jedi, they didn't return the loyalty she had always offered. Fuck the GAR. They would carry on fighting and killing and invading and dying with or without her. 

Rex had realized, in those oppressive pre-dawn hours, that he agonized because she had left him. They had been companions for more than three years! She had grown from a bratty youngling, to a capable warrior, to a leader almost without match. They loved her, the 501st. Torrent, the battering ram of the esteemed legion, especially worshipped her. If General Skywalker was the spearpoint of the forces, the Troopers were the rigid staff,, and Ahsoka was the sinews and lead and nails that held the two together. They had adopted her as their blood sister, named her Vod'ika, and taught her their words. The squadron had cracked a little from their loss. The center of the chasm had been their CO. Rex was drowning in despair when he had heard his own voice quietly wimper… 

"Why did you leave me?"

It hurt, to hear it out loud. It made the pain more real somehow. He had curled inward  on himself, hating that he desperately needed his friend to help him cope, and yet she was the one he was mourning. 

By the time he had crawled from his bunk, all vestiges of anger had burned away. Left behind was only depression, and empty bitterness. Everything became harder after that. Skywalker also suffered her loss, and he and Rex began to severely grate on each other's nerves. Rex flung himself into work and training for the distraction, earning a multitude of grumbles from his Vod as he expected them to keep up his grueling pace. 

And then… Skywalker commed him. The General spoke as nonchalantly as if he was discussing the soy loaf at dinner. There was a mission to be had, to Mandalore. Bo Katan Kryze was in need of assistance, unseating the Sith lord Maul who had claimed the planet for his own. She would be meeting them in roughly 72 hours, with her comrade at arms. A certain Lady Tano. 

Rex had leapt from his desk, pacing a circle for nearly an hour. Skywalker said that they would accompany her, Rex in command of as many men as she needed. His stomach was clawing inside him like a trapped loth cat, with anticipation, excitement, and anxiety. 

He needed to tell his boys. Her boys. Their girl was coming home. He had stood there smiling like an idiot, loving the feel of those words in his weary brain. 

He called Torrent to attention in their barracks, briefly explaining the mission. They were going to fight for their father's home. Serve the warrior people that had created all that the Vode held dear. He could see the energy beginning to rise from them, the promise of a fight that really did belong to them in some way.

 He savored a pause, keeping her his precious secret for a second longer, before he flung her name to his troops like fresh meat to hungry dogs. The resulting roar was deafening, with a string of particularly loud expletives from Jesse, who had become his de-facto Captain, as Rex had taken on the Command of the 501st in purpose if not in official name. It warmed his tired heart to the core.

 Excusing himself he strode away to his quarters. The energy that the mere mention of her name generated had put the spring back in his strut. He didn't sleep that night either, for the boyish excitement inside.

By the following evening, several hundred men were sporting orange blazes on their helmets, and the indoctrinated eye would recognize the white jagged stripes that swept down over their visors. The men had shined every inch of their armor, oiled and cleaned every gun, sharpened every blade. He allowed them to fight it out for their spots at review. A few black eyes were given over the choicest front row positions.

Then came the day of her arrival . General skywalker commed him for assembly. The men jogged to the meeting point, a large liaison space on the 3rd level. He had counted the length of his breaths carefully, willing himself to be calm and composed, as if this was really any other inspection. He was screaming inside. He felt like his stomach was trying to fall out of his ass.

The door chimed and slid open. And there she was. But she wasn't the girl he remembered. She seemed to have grown over the past year. Taller yes, he noted the distinct curve taking shape in her Montrails. Not just vertical growth either; she had expanded in all directions. Her hips were no longer angular, but smoothly bowed outward. Her waist tapered in and climbed upward to... what used to be pert little breasts - polite things that barely moved when she vaulted across the training mats. Now… well… they weren't polite anymore. In her absence Little'un had become a woman. How the hell did all this happen in a year?

 He called the men to attention, unable to suppress the absolute shit eating grin of joy that had plastered itself there. She had traded the skirts and tights of her padawan youth for the dignified garb of a warrior. Smart armored combat boots covered tight breeches, and disappeared under a slim fitting, high collared shirt which proved both modest and profoundly flattering at the same time. Having discarded her Akul tooth headdress when she left the temple, Ahsoka now wore a variety of tiara that looked like hand hammered durasteel. Numerous arm bands and leg holsters carried her various kit. Best of all, he noticed, she had outfitted herself almost entirely in the cobalt blue of the 501st. 

Ahsoka stepped towards him. Hesitantly, uncertain of her place in the scheme of things, her eyes searching his face for a cue. He was positively giddy at her approach, glad that his full body armour could dampen the sight of the tremors that ran through him. 

"Beautiful, fierce, brave girl… don't look at me like that. You'll always belong with us" he didn't say the words, they shone from his eyes. Her gaze landed on the helmet clutched in his hand, and he was certain they moistened as the orange and white design drove its message home. They were hers and she was theirs.

Moments later, things got complicated, as they were wont to do when Skywalker was involved. He had loaded about three thousand odd men on to another venator. Anakin had named him official CO of the 501st (could've done that a fucking year ago) and they left with their Lady. A jedi no longer, now only a civilian advisor. Whatever, she was still their angel.

Now, about 48 hours later, they had Maul's forces on the run, and had taken a few hours to regroup, gather sit-reps, and organize the city wide hunt for the criminal. His duties were tended for the moment so Rex had gone on the search, hungry to see her face again. He spied her by the transports, wearing her pride of possession, as she watched her Vod do what they did best. 

He jogged across the pavement and slowed to a swaggering stroll as he neared her. She beamed at him, blue eyes reflecting the city lights. 

"All right there, Lil?"

"Rex, this has gone off smoother than I had hoped. The citizens are disgusted, but at least things didn't de-evolve in to violence."

Gah, her voice! It was like a cool breeze on a shitty hot day.

She retreated a little way between the LAATs

and retrieved a canteen of water, drinking deeply. He took the opportunity to appreciate what nature had wrought upon the Togrutan. 

He couldn't pretend to be an expert on her race's anatomy, but he could definitely see that the physical changes in her had stopped being about adding physical size, and began to be about physical allure. The hard muscles of her youthful form had gained some softness via artistically placed plump cushions. Her rump… hips… bosom. Her face had exchanged youthful roundness for a pointed chin and angled jaw, and instead focused the fullness in to her plum colored lips. 

It wasn't until after the initial excitement of the reunion when they were en route to Mandalore that he could privately reflect upon her changes. As she bent over to adjust her boot straps he was certain the thirty or so Vod in the room must have heard his cock slam against his cod piece as he reacted to the sight of her peach shaped rear offered up like a feast before him. Since that moment he had remained at nothing less than half mast, his member ready and waiting for the off chance that he might need it, while his brain begged it to behave itself and not act a fool.. 

How the hell had he come to this? His sweet friend had become a veritable sex pot, her body shedding the trappings of youth and preparing her to recieve a male. The notion that had began to grow in his mind that night in his lonely bed so many months ago, had born fruit and ripened in that moment. 

He Loved her and not as a lad should love his dear friend.. He had pined away for months, struggling to function through the void created by her absence. Moments of privacy had tormented him either with loneliness for her presence or aching for her touch. Often his mind wandered too far in her direction and he was forced to take matters in to his own hands… well hand…. And release brought guilt as well as relief. 

When he closed the gap between them she offered the drink, and he happily chugged some just to taste her on the rim. He was so desperate, he thought. So fucking pathetic, but he couldn't help himself… and frankly didn't want to. As he regarded her, Ahsoka fidgeted nervously and her face fell, a mask of anxiety appearing. He knit his brow at the change, capping the canteen and setting it aside.

"Rex… I'm sorry."

He frowned. This was happening now, she was ready to explain to him her actions. In the middle of a mission. Fucking hell. He continued to watch her, his face calm and professional.

"Im sorry I didn't say goodbye. It was a shitty thing to do to you. It was cowardly and I was wrong, and I've regretted it every single day." Her sapphire gems stared in to his amber ones, searching them for his reply.

Rex sighed heavily. He had a few things to tell her, and he'd be damned if she was going to run away this time before he heard each and every one of them clearly. 

"Ahsoka…" he reached for her, and with only a little hesitation she snaked her arms around his waist and leaned against his armored chest. Resting her cheek near his pauldron.  He wrapped her up in his embrace and stole a moment to sniff deeply of her scent. Spice, and something herbal - like tea. Leather. And her own subtle musk, which reminded him of the sun warmed straw field he had walked through on Naboo. How he had missed that smell.

"I wont lie Lil. I hated you for about a week. When I got over that, I stayed pissed off for at least another month."

She trembled a little, her face hidden from view.

"Then, during my fifth week of insomnia and self loathing, I realized why I was so angry, and that it definitely wasn't because I hated you."

He tilted his head down, seeking her eyes, but she was still hiding them on his shoulder.

He nudged her lekk with his nose, gently demanding her attention. She shyly met his gaze, the blazing blue stars beginning to blur behind tears. Stop this at once Lil, you're not the crying type, and especially not over me. 

He dipped his face to hers, capturing her lips. She was rigid with shock for a moment, but then relaxed against his touch. He barely broke away, only to come back for a second helping, kissing her with more force in order to drive his message home. She tasted like honey, hints of cinnamon, and the poor quality caf they all survived off of on the Venators. The feel of her petal soft lips against his was enough to make his knees shake, and his heart pound, and, thinking back on every fantasy he had entertained about her, he would come to realize what a poor imagination he had. 

Pulling away, she dashed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. 

"The truth is that…  I didn't dare come to see you that day. I knew that it would upset you and I couldn't cope with that. I wouldn't have been able to go make myself leave, even though it was the right thing for me. Its ok that you hated me for a while.. I hated myself."

 She sucked in a shaky breath, regarding him silently for a moment as if she was trying to choose her next words carefully. Apparently, her voice had left her, so she framed his face with her sienna colored hands and returned to his kiss almost violently. He spanned her waist with his hands, pulling her closer to him, all the while cursing his protective armor that denied him the pressure of her firm body. 

"I wouldn't have let you go" he growled, biting at her lip for punctuation. With a breathy whimper she opened her mouth to his caress. He tasted her lips, and her tongue, twisting his head for a better angle. His gloved hands groped their way blindly up her back, and then back downward to her waist, one daring to sneak to her rump, palming the cheek boldly, but hell she could shatter his bones with her mind if she objected and he wouldn't be upset. She answered by chasing his tongue with hers, uttering a low moan of approval. 

Rex pushed her backward against the cold side of the transport, pinning her there with his bodyweight. His mind spun with surprise and delight that not only had she not broken his face, but was mouthing and pawing at him with equal desire. He sucked in a quick breath and claimed her mouth again, leading the charge with a velvet tongue. He was determined to display for her every ounce of frustration she had left him in for the past year. To convince her that she should not leave him again.

He nipped at her chin, scraped his teeth along her jawline, and caught a hitch in his breath as he tasted the salty skin at her neck. She rolled her head away, crooning gently, and he surprised himself at how quickly he one handed the top few frogs of her shirt. Bearing her neck down to the shoulder, he sucked and kissed at her offering, cherishing her closeness, his mind racing at the willingness with which she came to him. His right hand had found its way to her breast, caressing the sleek fabric covered mound and searching the telltale hardened peak he found there. She was arched backward over his opposite arm, her legs astride his armoured thigh, all the while he was inwardly cursing the confines of his pelvic armor; his member had sprung to full solute at the attentions of his Lady Commander. When she rolled her hips he dared to arch to his boot toe, giving her a hard surface to press herself against. 

She stiffened under his touch, suddenly going quiet and still. 

"Kriff." she whispered.

His eyes snapped open, alarmed by the sudden change in her demeanor.  He was about to speak when…

"OORAH! COMMANDER!"

A chorus of hoots and howls joined the first voice, and Rex dropped his forehead to Ahsoka's shoulder, hand still splayed across her chest, thigh pressed to her besh… his index finger tracing the crease of her perfect ass….

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesse. Kriffing Jesse, and about fifty of his men. Standing there watching him grind on Ahsoka like they were a live action porn holo.

"Fuck my life" he growled in disgust. 

"GET SOME VOD! OWWWWW!!!" 

Dammit Jesse. 

The fondling hand shot to his hip and raised the blaster just in time for his head to snap up and choose his target. The bolt screamed by Jesse, missing his temple by the length of a finger. 

Wide eyed, he screamed and cackled and ducked, the other troops reacting similarly. 

Rex contemplated shooting them all, and was choosing his next target when….

"FUCKING JESSE! QUIT COCK BLOCKING ME, YOU STUPID PENIS WRINKLE!" Ahsoka roared at the clone, and with a violent sweep of her arm she flung the entire corps out of sight further down the plaza. Rex couldn't help but grin at the satisfying shouts of pain and the clatter of armored bodies bouncing on the cement. 

They both sighed as he returned his DC to its home, and met each other's gaze. 

"Is that what he was doing, Commander? Cock-blocking you?" He teased. 

Ahsoka's blue chevrons darkened in the Togrutan equivalent of a blush. 

"Im not your Commander, Rex, not GAR, nor am I a Jedi. I'd prefer if you'd address me properly." 

"And how's that?" He cocked his head, smirking at her. 

"Anything but. You decide, cyare." 

She pushed her forehead against his. He flushed from the thrill. She had used his "native" tongue, never before had anyone called him "beloved", and the forehead "kiss" was a touch of the purest loving affection among Vod.

"Do you mean that? "Cyare"? Rex's head was spinning. The delicious heavy petting could have allowed him to die happily, but she had done something far more wonderful to him. Cyare was not a name for a piece of meat used to scratch an itch with.. did she understand that? "Are you sure, Lil?"

"Yes, I mean that. I want you, Rex. I think I have for a long time, but I was afraid to call it what it was. I didn't think you'd ever look at me the same way."

"What? Why wouldn't I?"

"Because your a grown man!... Who happens to be younger than me… and I've always just been this idiot kid." She frowned, the dusky colored pout did terrible things to him. 

"I don't think you've been a kid for a while now Sokka." To emphasize his statement, he kissed her like she was a woman. His woman. "What happens…" he didn't know if he dared to hope… "What will you do after we are done here?"

"I haven't really thought about it. I guess it depends on our success." 

They heard shouts. Troopers were gathering on the plaza, getting ready to depart for their search. 

"Than let's find the hut'uun quickly." 

He gave her a final kiss and a squeeze, and backed away step by step until her hand dropped away. 

[pers-books]

Hi, I love all of your fics and can't get enough of them, I would looove 49.Fake Married & 15.Criminal AU, if you still write them. If you don't that's fine too. Have a good day😊!

Interesting combo! I have seen only one or two episodes of Gentleman Jack - and lots of gifsets - but Bernie, here, is inspired by Suranne Jones’ portrayal of Anne Lister. So, be warned, this turned unexpectedly grown-up and naughty. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, Wolfe?” snaps Serena Campbell as her rival saunters through the door of the study she’s currently occupying without permission.

Wolfe snorts. “Same thing as you, I imagine.” She looks Serena up and down in an assessing manner that somehow makes Serena feel like Wolfe’s just undressed her with her eyes.

“Knife or miniature Browning in the thigh holster?” asks the blonde in a bored tone.

Serena swallows down her startlement. “How did you know I’m wearing a thigh holster?” she asks, slightly resentful.

That elicits a second snort from Wolfe. “I didn’t, until you just told me.”

“God, I hate you,” Serena snaps, peeved.

Wolfe smirks. “No, you don’t, Campbell.” She stalks towards her like a predator after prey and Serena finds herself paralysed. Her brain is screaming, Run! Run! at her, but her body is unable to run. There’s always been a heightened sexual tension from the minute they met five years ago, both turning up at the same high society ball with the intention of fleecing the rich.

Wolfe reaches her, then pulls her hands from the pockets of her tailored trousers, and places them on either side of Serena’s head. She presses her long, lean body lightly against Serena’s, backing her up until she bumps into the wall. She can feel her body reacting in very obviously sexual ways and resents it, yet she can’t help toying with the top button of Wolfe’s waistcoat (cobalt blue at the back and heavily embroidered with gold thread at the front). It’s worn over a fitted dress shirt with silver wolf’s head cufflinks and enough buttons unfastened to reveal Wolfe’s delectable looking collarbones.

“It’s sinful, how good you look in those clothes,” Serena says huskily.

Wolfe smirks. “Looking pretty sinful yourself, Campbell,” she drawls, pushing her well muscled thigh between Serena’s legs. “That dress definitely should be illegal.” 

Said dress is off the shoulder, blood red with a back that plunges to her waist, a neckline that dips to show off her collarbones and cleavage, and which only just reaches to her knees.

“What’re -” She pauses to clear her throat, aware of the flush that’s heating both her chest and her cheeks. “What’re you doing?” 

This, because Wolfe is pressing her thigh more firmly between Serena’s legs and she can feel bolts of red hot arousal sparking down her spine to land squarely between her thighs. 

“What d’you think I’m doing, Campbell? Hmm?”

Serena doesn’t say, Arousing me in the most unbearably delicious fashion, though it’s what she’s thinking. “Distracting me,” she husks.

Wolfe smirks again and Serena has to fight the urge to kiss that damn smirk right off her face. Her incredibly gorgeous face, with its high cheekbones, thin lips, hawkish nose, and dark brown eyes that are deep enough to drown in, Serena thinks. “And how’s that working out for you?” Wolfe asks, her voice warm and calm, despite the fact that she’s still rocking her thigh between Serena’s legs.

“It’s - It’s - It’s very effective,” Serena admits, then bites her lip, wishing she hadn’t made that admission.

“Good to know.” Wolfe leans in, as if she’s going to kiss Serena, who closes her eyes in anticipation. “I think I should tell you, Campbell, that you’re quite the most exquisite cat burglar I’ve ever met. But that won’t stop me walking off with the contents of Count Gaskell’s safe.”

Wolfe’s low voice in her ear, her warm breath against Serena’s skin, and the pressure of her thigh against Serena’s core, leaves her speechless and weak-kneed.

“Oh,” she gasps, then she lifts her hands and clasps Wolfe’s face and draws her into a deep, deep kiss. It’s hot, heavy, and deeply fulfilling, and Serena thinks it’s only the press of Wolfe’s body against her own and the wall at her back that keeps her from melting into a puddle of arousal on the floor.

“Fuck!” she gasps as Wolfe increases the pressure between Serena’s thighs and she feels herself climaxing against that well muscled thigh. 

Serena drops her hands to Wolfe’s shoulders as she rides out her climax. She can’t help appreciating the other woman’s athletic body, particularly when it’s giving her such pleasure - and they haven’t even got undressed yet.

“You, Berenice bloody Wolfe, are the absolute limit.”

Wolfe hums, her hot mouth on the spot behind Serena’s ear that does incredible things to her.

“Stop that,” Serena says, feebly pushing at the other woman. Who immediately steps back, leaving Serena feeling bereft, even though she’s the one who told Wolfe to stop. “You can’t just -” she begins.

“I can just. In fact, I did just,” Wolfe says, with yet another smirk.

Serena opens her mouth to retort, just as the door to the study opens and a manservant, a footman she thinks, walks in. 

He raises an eyebrow at them. “Do you have my master’s permission to be in this study, ladies?” he asks, disdain practically dripping from his voice.

“No,” Wolfe says immediately. “I simply brought my friend in here to admire the Count’s collection of erotica. To certain bibliophiles it is a well known collection after all.”

“Nevertheless, I must insist you leave at once,” says the disdainful manservant.

“But of course,” Wolfe says. She slides her arm around Serena’s shoulders. “Come along, my dear. We don’t want to upset the Count, do we?”

“No,” murmurs Serena, suffering herself to be led from the study, though she’s seething with fury inside. If Wolfe hadn’t wasted Serena’s time by walking in when she had, she’d have had the safe open and emptied, and been gone already.

“Keep walking,” Wolfe murmurs, her breath hot on Serena’s ear. “We’re going to collect our coats, then we’ll leave. Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to risk still being here when that supercilious young fellow reports our presence in the library to the Count. It’s likely to lead to an arrest and they’re such dreary things.” She gives Serena a squeeze. “You, on the other hand, are far from dreary and I will certainly enjoying having you again, preferably with a good deal less clothing in our way.”

“You won’t be having me again, as you put it, with or without clothes,” Serena snaps once they’re outside and walking away from the Count’s home.

“No?” Wolfe says in a lazy drawl. “Not even for a share in the Count’s gold and jewels?”

Serena pulls away, then scowls at the other woman, hands planted firmly on her hips. “What?”   

Wolfe smirks, then slides a hand into the front of her shirt, pulling out a leather bag secured with cord around her neck. She opens the bag, then tilts it towards Serena so that she can see the contents: a large number of jewels, most of them diamonds, and several gold bars.

“How did you - when did you - What?”

Wolfe chuckles, resecures the bag, then slips it back down the front of her shirt. “It wasn’t in the safe in his study,” she says, wrapping her arm back around Serena’s shoulders. “It was in the safe in his boudoir.”

“How did you find that out?” 

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” Wolfe says. “Are you the jealous type?”

“You slept with him?” Serena says, disgusted.

“Please. No, of course I didn’t. I slept with his wife, last week. It was a business arrangement, nothing more. Which isn’t to say that a good time wasn’t had by both parties.” She winks at Serena, then sticks out her hand as a cab approaches. It stops and Wolfe ushers Serena in, who’s too desperate to discover what sort of arrangement she wants to make to allow Serena a share in the Count’s ill-gotten gains to even consider refusing to go with her. Besides, Wolfe promised to take her again and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit, to herself if no one else (although Wolfe undoubtedly knows), that she very much wants that long, lean body pressed against her own, preferably without any clothing to get in the way.

“Where are we going?” Serena asks, realising that she’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard what address Wolfe gave to the cabbie.

“Mmm? Oh, I have a little pied-a-terre not too far away. I thought we could head there and discuss certain arrangements which you might like to enter into. Assuming those are agreeable to you, we can easily and comfortably move from the business part of the evening to the pleasure part. If that’s acceptable to you, Campbell?”

Serena feels like she’s drowning in pleasure already: the warmth of Wolfe’s body pressed against her own in the cab; the heat of desire that’s still lingering - or building up again, more accurately - between her thighs; the tickle of Wolfe’s blonde hair against her face as the other woman leans close to speak to her;  and the trickle of her breath against Serena’s ear. She feels like she’s mere seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

“Yes,” she murmurs.

“Good girl.” Wolfe slides a long, elegant finger beneath her chin and turns Serena’s face towards her own. “Very good,” she murmurs, then leans in and slides her lips over Serena’s, her left hand caressing Serena’s knee. Automatically, her thighs fall open, and Wolfe chuckles in her ear. “Really, Campbell? You want me to fuck you here and now, in the back of this somewhat bumpy cab?”

“Please,” Serena begs, all thought of refusing Wolfe gone.

“Very well.” Wolfe slides her fingers up Serena’s thigh, stroking lightly at her skin, before slipping over her mound and cupping her sex. “You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you? Is this from before or now?”

“Now,” Serena admits.

“Oh, my darling girl.” Wolfe kisses her deeply. “You’re so delightful.” She pushes aside the soaked fabric at the crotch of Serena’s drawers, then slides two fingers straight into her slick heat. Serena groans into Wolfe’s mouth and shudders.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Wolfe whispers, her fingers moving rapidly and inexorably inside Serena, sending her hurtling towards another climax. “Just let yourself go, my darling. Let yourself go.”

Serena obeys, helpless to do otherwise. White light explodes behind her eyelids as her climax explodes between her legs. She’s rather glad to not be standing up, once she comes back to herself, because her knees have turned to jelly.

She groans slightly as Wolfe eases her fingers free, then lifts them to her mouth and makes an elaborate show of cleaning them.

“I hope the cabbie didn’t hear too much,” Serena says, a little nervously. 

Wolfe chuckles. “Don’t you worry about my man Dominic - he’s heard all sorts when he’s had me in the cab.”

“The cab driver’s your man?” Serena asks, then wonders why she doubts it. “Of course the cab driver’s your man.” She tuts and gets another smirk from Wolfe. 

The cab slows to a halt and Wolfe climbs out, then hands Serena out with exquisite courtesy. 

“Thank you, Dom,” she calls, and he tips two fingers to the brim of his hat, then clicks to the horses and trots off.

With Wolfe’s arm securely wrapped around her, Serena makes her way into the other woman’s house. Wolfe waves off her servants, saying that Serena had felt unwell at the party they were both attending so she has brought her home to look after her. The servants, a young Black woman and a young white man of similar ages, glance sideways at each other, then nod. 

“Will you be requiring anything further tonight, my lady?” the woman asks.

“Just a hot bath, thank you, Shreve,” Wolfe says. 

“The bath has already been set in front of the fire and filled, my lady,” Shreve says. “There is a cauldron of water set over the fire, too, should you need the bath refilled.”

“Excellent. You think of everything, Shreve.”

“I try, my lady.”

Wolfe nods. “You may retire, then, both of you. Thank you.”

Serena is led from the hallway, through the house, and upstairs to a large, airy bedroom with tall windows that doubtless overlook the grounds, but it’s too dark to see the view, and anyway Serena’s rather more interested in the promised bath - her thighs are sticky thanks to Wolfe’s ministrations this evening and her limbs feel leaden so she very much wants to sink into a tub full of hot water.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, eh?” Wolfe says, beginning to unbutton Serena’s dress, her fingers nimble as they move down the line of buttons at the side of her dress.

Serena realises that she cannot recall anyone ever bathing her, not since she was a small child, and she decides she should’ve switched to women lovers sooner. Or perhaps, she acknowledges, she should have allowed herself to succumb to the notorious, yet sexy, Berenice Wolfe far sooner.

[Pick two (2) tropes for me to mash-up and explain how I’d write them (Berena only)]

[doktorpeace]

🖊 please introduce us to Erato, I know they're in a masks campaign but I have no idea what else

Oh, gosh, I feel like I talk about them too much as is but I can’t say I’m not glad to have the excuse. This is gonna be really long cause tbh I’m just gonna dump like, a bunch of their lore lmao.

Erato is my Masks: A New Generation character in a campaign being played alongside @twerkyvulture (As Amanda ‘Megafauna’ Ghorbani, The Transformed) @draayder (as Josephine ‘Rattlesnake’ Short, The Reformed) @spitblaze (as Les ‘Void’ Hawking, The Doomed) @heedra (as Enid ‘Frag Beetle’ Day, The Scion) and @skarchomp (as Parker ‘Cobalt’ Andrews, The Legacy) with @dykeceratops as our GM. The current arc features @mechanicalriddle as Zoe, The Nova as a guest member. Here’s a group shot done by @tredlocity. Clockwise from the top left: Cobalt in blue, Erato in the track suit, Les in the cloak, Zoe with the mismatched eyes, Enid’s the big robot, Amanda’s got the scales and claws, and Josephine’s got the mask and tonfa.

To get back to Erato specifically though they’re an Anti Metahuman/Metahuman Suppression Weapon created by the in universe tech group Wright Industries, founded by Ingrid Day, Enid’s mom. They’re generally stronger, faster, and more durable than humans and can copy the superpowers of others for 5-10 minutes by touching them thanks to what is basically a meta-stem cell transplant interacting with other parts of their systems. (Also, I 100% swear to god that I did not consider ‘Robot Hero Who Copies The Powers Of Others’ is literally fucking Mega Man despite loving Mega Man a ton until after I had hashed out the concept with my GM’s assistance. Only once Abby said ‘oh like mega man’ I was like ‘wait, shit’.) I’ll tell you some about them as a person before unloading their history onto you, lol. Being an android built for combat and kept in an underground research lab, kept on a rigid schedule, constantly taking tests, physical, mental, written, oral, ethical, etc. etc. etc. and under constant supervision Erato lacked for real interactive experience before the campaign started only really ever getting to takl with authority figures and their sisters. They were very passive and observational, owing in part to their power set requiring a lot of adaptation to make the most of. They’re naive and very bad at exercising discretion in decision making, sometimes they overstep boundaries when talking with people without meaning to, and they’re really emotional! They have trouble dealing with strong emotions cause they haven’t managed to discover coping mechanisms that work well for them, they tend to get angry kind of easily and need time to blow off steam. But they’re also very genuine, honest, and well meaning. They are almost never mean, rude, or snippy, they do their best to do well by others, and have a strong sense of justice paired with a deep distrust and dislike of the current legal system in universe. This is in part due to the conditions of their creation (and in part because the intent behind it was kind of right!) and in part due to Enid’s life being threatened by a representative of the state while they and their teammates were in jail after being arrested following a huge brawl with an anti-methuman terrorist group. They’re also very willing to put forth the effort to improve as a person and to mend relationship wounds, almost always apologizing first to Enid when they fight and genuinely trying to work in advice and feedback they get from others, which they often get from Les and Parker. They’re also relatively educated, from the tests of their creators, from home and public schooling, from personal research, but that doesn’t undo their naivety. They also just straight up lack some very basic and/or common sense knowledge. Like, they don’t know what a bear is. Why would you teach a battle android working in a densely populated, extremely built up city about wild animals? All in all they’re kind of inexperienced and immature and make mistakes a lot but they’re (usually) very willing to admit their mistakes and to try and improve and get better. They genuinely and truly want what’s best for others and are learning to value them self as much as their teammates. They’ve also taken it upon them self to start doing humanitarian work in their free time over the summer. In a fight Erato is adaptive and quick witted but tends to put themself in more danger than is necessary. They also sometimes use more extreme force than the others believe is called for, but after the first time they did they and Parker had a real heart to heart about it, Les helped Erato learn and practice some coping, centering, behaviors they could do even under pressure and Erato did their best to adapt. That said they Fucking Hate The Keeper So God Damned Much Because Of How Much Suffering He’s Caused Their Friends And How Much Danger He Presents And Would Kill Him With No Remorse. So they don’t intend to apologize for ripping his arms off whatsoever. They and their sisters, collectively known as The Muse Units, were made to work as a group and as a proof of concept that atomized units could replace traditional police for use against metahuman criminals and to slowly phase out The Registry, the legal department which handles general metahuman based laws. If successful the units could be mass produced and improved upon, rapidly replacing current, error prone, law enforcement. At the time of their development, between late 1999 for blueprint drafting and until mid 2002 when the project was shut down, they were the cutting edge for AI development aided in no small part by Ingrid’s technokinetic powers allowing her to make advancements few others could. (As a note Erato’s body was finished being built in early 2001 but their unique personhood didn’t really come to fruition until February 18th, 2002, so that’s what I consider their ‘birthday’.) Ultimately, however, while a few of the Muses excelled some did not perform to expectations, the project fell behind schedule, investors lost interest, and a minor scandal involving a casualty happened, resulting in the project being shut down. The Muses were placed in indefinite storage, the data gained from their short existence used on other projects such and some of the tech advancements used to inform future decisions by the company. And it would have stayed that way, if not for the fact that in 2018 Ingrid Day was revealed to be The Locust in a conflict where Enid tried to defend her against a militia group who had been hired to take her down, being shot and presumably killed in the process. As The Locust she had been terrorizing Boston for over a decade trying to take it over and being involved in the deaths of over 70 people. (Which irl btw would make her like, the 8th most prolific confirmed serial killer of all time, Yikes!) Wright Industries, desperately needing to prove their hard stance against metahuman criminals and needing a PR stunt to deflect from their connection to their former CEO re-awakened Erato. They weren’t the most powerful or best performing of the Muses, but they were above average, obedient, and had an easy enough to monitor and control power set with little risk for property damage to boot, the perfect choice. Erato then took to the streets of Boston acting basically as a vigilante, following orders, stopping minor crimes, and sometimes working alongside the police. They attracted the attention of The Viceroy, a semi-retired 56 year old hero who never registered in spite of it being compulsory legally. They both have the ability to copy the powers of others, though he can just by sight, and he has body elasticity too. These make him durable and extremely adaptable, add to that his detective skills and he’s something of a local Boston legend. He took them in as his Protégé. Though they remained distant for quite some time with Erato still coming and going between his place and Wright Industries, having promised not to reveal his assistance to the doctors who Erato reported their work to. It was this way for about a year and a half before the campaign started and Erato began living with Viceroy full time, no longer wanting to go back to Wright Industries as they began to think more independently and consider what they wanted for them self more. During this time Erato had chance encounters with each of the other characters a few times as they also did minor vigilante work, peaking with a villain who is a member of Superhuman, an extremist pro-metahuman group, attacked the school that Josephine, Les, and Amanda all attend. After that incident Erato was prompted by Viceroy to contact each of these other young potential heroes to form a team, The Upstarts. Additionally during this time Viceroy took in Enid who had been abandoned by her biological father and had been getting bounced around foster care. Over time the three of them have become kind of a weird family, living in a warehouse full of cats with a couple of bedrooms grafted on and an ultra secret basement lair underneath full of advanced stuff Viceroy makes. Though Erato and Enid have definitely had their ups and down, more recently in the story (and we’ve been doing this campaign for well over a year now) they’ve been putting in serious effort to better their relationship and be good adoptive siblings to one another. I love their relationship a lot, they’re good kids.

That gets us up to the start of the campaign but hoo boy, I’ve been writing for like, an hour now. Since then Erato’s helped take down a nazi-aligned terrorist organization, they’ve got a boyfriend in their teammate, Les, and they’ve made friends outside of their core group of teammates. They’ve also enrolled in school doing well on some classes and poorly in others, namely learning how to Code and Woodworking. Currently they’re at a sleep away summer camp for superpowered kids called Camp Justice, about 10 miles outside of Boston. They really, really hate it there. Constant supervision, being made to do tests, things scheduled out against their will, inability to leave the area? Yeah that certainly reminds them of something. The difference between it and school, which does share these features, is they wanted to go to school. They very much Did Not want to go to camp. As a result they’re finally going to have to start facing the trauma they’ve got from their origin and also actually tell the others other than Les and Amanda about their sisters. Whiiiiich...Enid saw one of them disassembled and showed off in parts at a school science fair display set up by Wright Industries to gauge interest in students. And she hasn’t mentioned this to Erato...for 4 months Uh Oh! Lastly, here’s my tag I use mostly for art I make of them, it includes some texts posts and picrew dumps too though, lol. Feel free to look!

[bnhaimaginesandocs]

OK!! So I’ve been getting a lot of requests about my OCs and I decided I was gonna go ahead and start sharing them!! This is my Main OC, Ruby Sorin!! I also gave her some headcanons about her family and herself below and I hope you guys like her!!! Also here you go @just-maria

Also If you like them please let me know!!! It’s gonna be a long post ya’ll so General Headcanons are under the cut!!

TW: Mentions of Parental death briefly.

FAMILY HEADCANONS

Ruby is actually not from Japan; She is from Romania. But her father, who is one of the top support engineers in the country was offered his dream position to work with Tea Idaten as their main support engineer and he took it. Moving his youngest children with him at around the end of their middle school year (so about 14/15) and encouraged them to enroll in UA.

Their mother, Alessia Castillo-Sorin, passed away when Ruby and her triplets were around 8. She passed from ovarian cancer.

Before she passed, she was a retired side kick from one of the top hero agencies in Romania; her hero name was Shimmer.

Her father, Marcus Sorin, is Quirkless; As is her Three eldest brothers; Dimitri, Jullian and Luciano. 

She has 7 brothers. Only five of them are biological, her brothers Henric and Alfonso are adopted.

She’s the only girl in her family.

Her family is extremely tight knit and they all try to keep in contact with one another at least once a day. They have a family group chat. It gets a little difficult with the time zone differences but they make it work.

Most of her older brothers live in Romania still; some are scattered across Europe. Her second oldest brother; Luciano is a tattoo artist in Barcelona. The oldest twins; Dimitri and Jullian, are detectives in Bucharest who work along Henric and Alfonso’s hero agency.

Ruby is 1/3 of the Sorin Triplets. Her other Triplets are Lance and Leon; Leon is in Class 1-B and Lance is in the support course. The three of them are triple trouble and are extremely close with one another.

Her brothers visit Japan as often as possible to see their youngest siblings. There was at one point in time when they all showed up to the dorms to surprise the triplets. Their tears could have rivaled Izuku’s.

She grew up in a Pagan household!! She can read tarot cards insanely well and it’s something that’s helped her come up with her hero name. 

Out of all the older siblings; Ruby is closest to Luciano and Dimitri.

QUIRK HEADCANONS

Her Quirk is called Shine!! It was her mother’s quirk and she was so happy when she got it. Basically with Shine she can manipulate the light particles around her’s and other’s body! (so long as she is touching them; like holding onto their hand and it has to be skin on skin or it won’t work with another person.) due to this; Ruby’s skin seems to always have a luminescent glow around her skin that she can amp up or tone down. Her brothers like to call her a walking flashlight. 

With her quirk she can move faster than the average person, traveling at short, instantaneous bursts. She can only do this around 10-12 times. And it can only be to a predetermined location. It has been theorized by her and others that she could travel at the speed of light but she refuses to entertain the idea as it could rip apart every atom in her body.

She can also shoot light in concentrated beams from any point in her body. Mainly her hands and feet. She calls it her Lumi-Shoot. 

Her hero name is The Scarlet Witch; mainly because when she uses her lumi shot, it looks almost scarlet in color. Also because of her hair.

Due to her quirk’s main thing of being blinding enemies doesn’t mean Ruby is immune to the effects of the brightness; She actually has to have custom contacts made to help protect her eyes along with her contacts.

Out of all of her brothers; she was the only one to fully inherit her mothers’ quirk. Her brother Lance can only illuminate his hands which is useful for working support; Her brother Leon however inherited their maternal grandmother’s quirk which is manipulating water.

She considered using her mom’s hero name but decided against it. Opting to make her own.

GENERAL HEADCANONS

Ruby’s birthday is May 25th, making her and her brothers Gemini.

She Placed in the top 30 of her entrance exam. 

Her hair is extremely curly and unruly; she has a lot of trouble taming it and it sometimes looks like a “lion’s mane” as her brothers call it.

She is Bisexual and not scared to admit it. Her first crush when she came to UA was Uraraka; she literally couldn’t speak to her with out blushing and it was adorable. Her brothers didn’t let her live it down for a month.

She’s a naturally sweet and very warm person; the kind that you look at and think “oh they can’t possibly have a mean bone in their body” but actually Ruby is extremely sassy and sarcastic; she just tends to keep it to herself and her close friends more often than not. She finds it hilarious when people realize she isn’t as innocent as she seems. 

Also growing up with 7 brothers she learned how to stand up for herself pretty early on so she doesn’t take shit from anyone.

Her favorite colors are Green, Red and Blue. Specifically Emerald, Wine Red and Cobalt Blue.

Her nicknames from her family are Little Lion and Sunshine.

She has a little black cat named Salem and she loves him more than life itself. He moves into the dorms with her and becomes something of Class 1-A’s Mascot along with Koda’s bunny. 

She has Anxiety, Depression and PTSD (the last one mainly from the training camp incident where she was seriously injured); she’s on medication for anxiety and depression but meets with a counselor every other week for therapy.

She reads tarot cards on the side to make some pocket money, but she always gives them for free to her classmates. 

She’s Hellenistic Pagan specifically; a fact she somewhat keeps to herself, but will gladly discuss her religion with anyone if they broach the subject first. Her deities are Aphrodite, Persephone and Hades. She’s even let some people in the class see the altar she has set up in her room when they move into the dorms.

Her favorite teachers are Midnight, Eraserhead and Present Mic in that order. She loves Midnights confidence and fun loving attitude. With Mic it’s because he always makes an effort to help her. And with Eraserhead; it’s because he’s saved her life and also because she can tell he cares deeply for his students.

She’s typically with her brother’s most lunch periods in the support room since Lance is a workaholic and doesn’t know when to stop and take a break. 

Ruby actually gets along pretty well with the Bakusquad and the Dekusquad. Although she’s seen hanging out with the Bakusquad more often than not since she’s super close with Mina.

Her and Mina get along like a house on fire. And when those two are together they’re bound to get in trouble. She also gets along well with Aoyama, finding him to be smarter and more insightful than people really give him credit for. 

She has a small crush on Shinsou

And on Kaminari.

She’s having a dilemma someone help her. 

She and Kaminari also get along super well and she finds him to be hilarious. He also has the same taste in books as her. 

She finds Bakugou more funny than anything else and just laughs at him when he threatens to blow her up. She’s spent years dealing with Jullian, Bakugou is nothing.

She also likes Tokoyami a lot; she finds him to be intriguing.

She has a box full of Polaroid pictures that she took when everyone moved into the dorms and she typically takes a lot of them still. She also owns a record player with a crap ton of records she got from her mom and dad.

She loves vintage things and punk things so her wardrobe can go from cottage core to punk/emo there is no in between.

Her room is very cozy and always smelling of whatever incense she burned that day; most of the time it’s peach and sage. She also has a ton of fairy lights hanging around the room and it’s always just very soothing. She also has a lot of candles. Like a lot. She has a problem.

She smells like pomegranate a lot of the time due to her body spray and sometime really warm like sunlight. 

She’s scary good at Hero History and Hero Law. But she sucks absolute ass at Math.

I’ll add more to her soon!

PEOPLE I SHIP HER WITH

I typically ship her with Denki or Shinsou; Sometimes even as a poly ship.

But i’m open to shipping her with just about everyone.

But Mainly Denki and Shinsou. Because I just think they would be adorable together you know? Purple Emo Boy dating not one bu two Balls of Sunshine? Yes please. Sign me UP!