#and most of those shinies are the ones that barely change from the original colors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lawslessons · 3 years

Text

Tea Time - Crocodile x f!Reader

Hello my dears! I am coming here with a special request from a dear friend of mine, @simpymcgee and while this was originally written for her character, with her permission I modified it for you all to enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, Rough play, smoking

Synopsis: His hand tensed as he blanky stared forward at the woman in front of him. She was alluring, beautiful and so, so innocent. His mind could only think of one thing as he forced himself to drink the tea she had brought him; corrupt her. And oh, corrupt her he did.

His breath hitched in his throat, his blank, unstaring eyes looked forward at the woman in front of him with a primal sense of interest. Her curvy figure and the warm, delicious smile on her lips was slowly drawing him in. His mind was hazy, a thick fog clouded his mind like the cigar smoke in his lungs. The murky background of the water for his banana gators proved to be an elegant backdrop for the woman. The deep blues and grays of the water brought out the colors in her hair and the warmth of her skin. He wondered how it would feel under his hands, the warm flesh under his calloused fingertips. Would she enjoy it? Would she laugh like she did with the gators? Or would her sounds be more intimate, more alluring, more sensual, more --

Crocodile let out a sharp inhale of his smoke, the smoke was dark gray and looked angry, his lungs were as agitated as his mood as he watched the woman carelessly play with her hair and laugh at the gators jumping on one another and yipping at each other. His eyes weren’t innocent, they glanced down at her soft hands petting the rough scales of the gators, clearly she wasn’t opposed to alligator skin, maybe she wouldn’t oppose him too? His attention shifted back over to his cigar and he did his best to focus on the item in front of him. It was packed into a small package, it was thick and warm… his mind began to wander again and it irritated him, he crushed the cigar in his hands and watched with no satisfaction as the ashes fell to the ground and pitifully shriveled up. Pathetic, why was he getting so worked up for nothing? This was nothing, wasn’t it? He wasn’t so sure anymore. He glanced over at the woman and noticed how she started to walk over to him, his breath hitched in his throat once again and he watched as she leaned against his desk, her hands pressing her forward as she smiled up at him with her expressive smile. Her skin looked so supple, so close, Crocodile would give his other hand to be able to reach forward and caress it just once, just to drown in her deep eyes, kiss those lips of hers. He bit the inside of his cheek when she giggled and looked up at him with those inquisitive eyes of her. Her hair was shiny, almost fiery in its glimmer, it was exactly like her, it suited her well. He was stalling, he was trying not to focus on the way her breasts were pressed forward against the desk and how she had to stand on her toes to be at his eye level even when he was sitting down at his desk.

“May I help you?” His deep, dry voice asked the woman in front of him. He was the definition of his devil fruit, dry and slow, methodical and raspy. His voice held no amusement but she could tell that he enjoyed talking to her, his eyes gave it away, they always seemed to do so.

“You forgot that it’s tea time,” She reminded him, the warm smile she had was enough to sweeten his tea, it was like honey and sugar and everything sweet he craved. He watched as she sat down on the edge of his desk, her legs crossed over each other as she held the small teapot in her hand. Where did she get that? His mind was dazed at the sight in front of him that he didn’t even focus on the logistics of what was happening. Her deft hands poured two cups of tea into the china cups that Crocodile had purchased during one of his more recent missions that required his attention.

“Tea time, right,” he grumbled as he held the cup close to himself and slowly sipped the hot beverage. Normally people would frown upon having warm drinks in the desert, but she seemed to be the exception to that ideology. She was fire and he was the desert, they were both made to enjoy the heat, so the hot tea didn’t seem to perturb either of them in the slightest way. Crocodile watched her legs, the way they swug lazily off his desk as she sipped her own tea. Her mind seemed to be occupied, it always was, Crocodile wondered what the woman in front of him was thinking about, worrying about. He would do anything to make it where she didn’t have to worry anymore. He didn’t drink much of his tea, he barely sipped it and before he knew it, the beverage was cold and undrinkable, unpalatable. His mouth tasted sour from the aftertaste of the tea, he chased away the taste by lighting up a cigar and placing it between his lips, he took a drag and watched as the woman began to put the tea stuff away and clean up after herself.

“You,” His voice drew out, he was commanding even in his laziest moments. She snapped to attention and quickly turned to look at him, her eyes were wide in curiosity and her hair playfully bounced over her shoulders as she looked at the much taller man.

“Yes?” She asked, that simple word was enough to make Crocodile melt, his mind blanked on what he was going to ask her, a smoke filled sigh escaped his lips and his eyes stared at the woman in front of him with tremendous interest.

“Nevermind.” This cycle repeated itself for days, weeks, months. Crocodile would stare, his breath would hitch, his palms would become sweaty and soon he wouldn’t be able to contain himself and he would have to excuse himself to have a moment alone to gather his thoughts or to smoke more than he should. While the routine was agonizing to Crocodile, he slowly became accustomed to the monotonous lapse of time and even relished in his hunger for the woman. He was like one of his banana gators, always starving, never sated, his appetite could only be fed with her.

That was when that day happened, the day that changed his life. The routine was normal, no straying, nothing out of the ordinary, but that was when it happened. When he reached the room with the gators, he noticed how she wasn’t playing with them like she usually was. Worried for her safety, he quickly glanced around the room and stopped when his eyes caught sight of her cuddling one of the gators close to her chest. It was one of the gators that had recently been born, it relaxed against her chest while she slept on the cool tile. His world seemed to stop, the room went out of focus and all he was able to concentrate on was her, her and her peaceful expression, that delicate and innocent expression. How he wanted to destroy it. He wanted to wreck her, he wanted to see that innocent expression break and crack until he peeled her apart to the most lecherous parts of herself. He forced himself not to think any further, he really was a devil to think of such things when it involved an angel like her. Annoyed at the lack of attention he was receiving and exhausted at his intrusive thoughts, Crocodile went back to his office to just waste away the rest of his day.

His rough hand was filled with papers, his head was throbbing in a headache, he never knew that he became so reliant on having tea everyday, or maybe it was something more. Maybe he was becoming more reliant on her? He tiredly put his papers down and rubbed his temples with his hand and stared out at his wall. He was bleary and unfocused, his attention was shifted towards the girl who was sleeping with the gators in the other room. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about it anymore, for that was when his door was forced open. He barely had time to register who came in when two hands found themselves pressed up on his desk.

“I’m sorry!” She gasped out, her tired eyes looked forward and stared into Crocodile’s exhausted orbs. Her lips were parted as she tried to catch her breath, her cheeks were flushed with the warmth of the sun and she had a small sheen of sweat over her brow and neck that looked sinful to him. His mind became even more clouded, darker than it ever had become when he felt the way she was seducing him without her even knowing. His frustration had peaked, his want and desire shoved away any sense of reason he may have had in that moment but he didn’t care: he had one desire, and it was her.

“I need you,” his low voice growled out, the older man’s dark eyes became possessive and wide, the woman seemed to be confused as he got out of his chair and moved to walk over to her.

“Need me? Need me to what? Make your tea?” She asked as he stood over her. He was a looming shadow in the midst of the sunshine, it irked him. “I can make it if you want, it’s really no --”

“No.” Crocodile snapped, his jaw was tense, he was practicing self restraint as he stared down at the girl in front of him. “I need you for myself, I need to feel you with my hand and to have you need me back. I want you,” Crocodile smoothly said as he leaned forward and trapped her against the table with his hips pinning her in place.

“Oh,” She breathed out, and that was all it took. In moments, Crocodile’s mouth collided with hers and deeply began to savor her lips in a kiss. She gasped, her smaller hands dragged up his elegant coat and up to his shoulders before they found themselves lost in his deep locks of hair. Crocodile shrugged off his coat and let it fall on the ground before his hand reached behind her and grabbed her rear. To hide her noises, he deepened their kiss and lifted her up so she would be sitting on the desk. He stood between her legs, his hand dragged up her thighs and stopped at the waistband of her pants. He relaxed in the kiss, it became slower, more methodical but not loving - teasing. He smirked when she whined, he was punishing her for all the times she had teased him and left him wanting more, this seemed like just revenge to him. He wasn’t even close to being done with his revenge too. He broke the kiss and felt a shiver go down the lower part of his spine when she pouted at him. Her lips were glistening with his and her spit, they were red and slightly bruised from his previous ferocity and he loved it.

“You’re in trouble,” he said as his hooked hand went to tug at her skimpy bra, it barely hid anything, that was one of the reasons he required her to wear it when she was working, that and the heat. With a simple flick of his wrist, his hook managed to rip the material and he had it tossed to the side in seconds. Before she could protest, he pressed two of his fingers against her lips and darkly grinned at her. “Suck,” he ordered, and oh, she did. She eagerly took his fingers into her mouth and licked the appendages before she began to suck. She got them nice and coated, she bobbed her head lazily and gently grazed her teeth on the underside of his fingers. If she was this amazing with his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how her mouth would feel around his prick. But that was for another time.

“For someone who hates to be ordered around, you seem to like this,” Crocodile teased as he pulled his fingers out of her mouth and moved to use his wet fingers to trace her nipples. Her voice shook, her breath came out shuddering and hot as he continued to tease her.

“S-Shut up,” she whined in protest, that left Crocodile breathless and laughing. He pinched one of her nipples between his fingers and tsked at her.

“I don’t think you want that,” he bluntly said as he dragged his hand down her middle and to the button of her pants. “You want me to tease you, make you beg me for my cock, am I wrong, princess?” he asked as he expertly undid the button on her pants. Now it was her turn to feel a little possessive, she didn’t like whoever taught him that trick, but at the same time she wanted to thank whoever that was because god, that was attractive. She shivered in delight and that caught the eye of Crocodile, oh he knew he was doing good and he was just getting started. Her pants were off, and her underwear? That wasn’t even in the picture at this point. Wet and almost soaked through, Crocodile made quick work to toss that to the side and to spread her legs open so he could easily see his prize. Just the sight of her panting and flushed in front of him made his cock throb in his pants, his eyes were lidded and overcome with lust as he slowly undid his dress pants and slid them down a bit. He stopped when she leaned forward and shyly began to unbutton his dress shirt, her eagerness was endearing and he thought it was absolutely adorable. She got the buttons undone and used her hands to push the shirt off of him and down to the ground. Crocodile wasted no time after that, he didn’t even wait for her to lay down on his large desk. He pushed the papers out of the way with his hook and used his free hand to grab onto her neck before he pushed her down on the desk, pinning her there.

“I need you,” she gasped out, his hand tightened around her neck and he grinned. His tip poked at her entrance and he slowly teased her by circling his hips.

“I know,” was all he said before he pushed in without a sound. She gasped, her back arched off of the desk and her hands grabbed onto the wood of the desk as he began to pound into her. Something clicked inside of him, seeing her so helpless and beautiful on his desk caused something primal to click inside of him. He wanted to fill her up, to wreck her and make it where she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day. His hand gripped her throat even tighter, her face started to turn even more red as he rammed his hips into her, her sounds became more strangled and breathy before he removed his hand from her throat and began to focus more on the force he was putting behind his trusts. Her eyes rolled to the back of her heads as he went harder, faster. Her insides were tensing and her hips jutted out as she focused on getting to her release.

“I’m close,” she groaned, she clenched her eyes shut and her back arched off the desk again, it didn’t go down as she spread her legs even more. She was surprised with herself and how easily she was becoming undone, she felt herself tense and moan, she was closer now. She was the picture of perfection, Crocodile’s hand fit perfectly in the crevice of her back and his fingers dug into her supple skin as he thrusted harder, sweat gleamed on his toned and scarred chest from his exertion and his breath hitched when she screamed out his name. She bit her lip lewdly and tried to squeeze her thighs together as she came and naturally tightened around him. He thought she was tight before, but the way she convulsed around him drew him in closer, a low groan escaped his lips as he found himself becoming lost in her. She chased down her orgasm with a small moan, he looked down at her and saw how absolutely ruined she was. The look in her eyes could only be described as pleasured and satisfied, a low purr escaped her lips as he continued to fuck her to her second orgasm in a matter of minutes. His stamina was impressive, even as she squeezed him closer, he managed to not hold back on his speed.

“Needy girl…” Crocodile grunted out, he needed to fill her up, he needed to see her stuffed to the brim with his cum, to see how ruined he could make her. That mental image plus the tight feeling of her around his cock was enough to make him cum hard. He stopped when he finished, he was balls deep inside of her and was staring down at her pleasured face as he filled her up to the point where she was leaking his mess. He didn’t pull out, his breath was heavy and hot, the office felt smaller, warmer and almost steamy as they both came down from their highs. He didn’t regret a single thing, he didn’t care that he just came in her, possibly ruined her. The control was alluring. He stayed stagnant for a minute, but as the room started to cool down again, he pulled out of her and stared her down.

“Will we be able to do that again?” She asked breathlessly. Crocodile knew he just ruined her, he just corrupted his little angel and there was no going back, he didn’t want to go back if it promised more intimate moments with her.

“We’re just getting started,” he casually said as he went to pull his pants up and get his coat on, he didn’t bother with his shirt for now, it was too much of a chore at this moment. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Crocodile grumbled, a look of fondness crossed his eyes as he looked her in her eyes and at her beautiful body. “It’s tea time.”

#one piece #one shot #one piece x reader #crocodile #crocodile x reader #op crocodile #one piece writing #one piece reader insert #one piece requests #one piece ask blog #One Piece Fanfiction #one piece fandom #one piece x y/n #one piece blog #requests open #op fanfic #request #reader #taking requests

153 notes · View notes

citiesalight-writes · 3 years

Link

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Characters: 31 (Original Male Character/Danny Phantom Clone), Guys In White

Rating: G

Tags & Warnings: Science Experiments, Cloning

Summary: Waking up suspended in green is not something he felt should be happening, but it was all he'd known. Everything he'd known came to him from nowhere, the ether, given meaning through an unknown source. But even this mysterious well of knowledge left some questions unanswered.

Based on @13thcat‘s Danny Phantom 31 AU

---

His first taste of consciousness was brief. Weightless, harsh light bleeding through his eyelids, sounds he couldn’t yet understand.

“Sir, we’re detecting an increase in brain activity in the cerebral cortex and thalamus.”

“Subject’s heart rate has also increased. We believe it m…”

His mind faded back into darkness.

The second and third times were much the same; his consciousness barely able to cling to awareness for more than a few seconds. Hearing the same muttering voices as before, he felt his mind stir briefly before slipping back under.

However, the fourth time things began to change. His mind managed to shake off the deep fog, and awoke to the same weightlessness he’d come to recognize, the same bright lights, the same distorted noises; all things that he couldn’t quite comprehend. Summoning his limited energy, his heavy eyelids fluttered open and he took his first look at the world.

It was blurry; tinted green.

His brow furrowed. What was green?

He didn’t understand where this knowledge came from; mind producing the word without a clear point of origin.

Movement caught his attention, pulling him out of his mind. Shadows— people, his mind supplied—rushed around; the warped sounds increasing as they scrambled.

“Sir! The subject appears to be awake!”

“Status?”

“Oxygen levels and blood pressure stable.”

“No signs of cellular decay.”

“The ectoplasmic to fluid ratio appears to have zero negative effect.”

One of the figures walked forward, a blur of white and brown. It bent down, eyes meeting his own, but still too blurry to be clear.

“Hope this one can hold itself together then.”

His eyes darted around, new instincts screaming at him to not allow a single shadow out of his sight. The noise levels rose as more and more of the white blurs scattered around. It was so much—too much; his mind trying to keep up with the unfamiliar and oh so new sensory inputs bombarding him.

“Subject’s heart rate is spiking! Sir! Destabilization risk rapidly increased to 37%.”

“Sedate it, agent! If all we have to show for our effort is another puddle of slime the Commander will have our heads!”

“Yes sir, injecting sedative.”

He felt fuzzy as the green surrounding him pulsed brightly—turning a vivid neon before he faded back into the darkness.

“The subject appears to be conscious again, sir...”

He wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious, but the thing that roused him made his face scrunch up in confusion…or was it disgust? He could taste something...bitter? The word came from nowhere, but it felt right, somehow. Something was bitter, but not unbearably so. The new sensory input probably had way more to do with waking him than the taste itself had.

He tried to open his eyes once again, but the next words stopped him cold. A sense of...something rushing up his body like a chill.

“Put it back under, we don’t want to risk any complications at this late of a stage.”

He understood. Somehow his brain linked the sounds to words with meanings, slotting them into his mind like a puzzle he didn’t know he had the answers to.

He understood, but his mind was still slow to grasp what they meant. Any attempt to try and string the meanings together into something that made sense was brought to a halt by a pulse of light before he was yet again pulled back under the haze of unconsciousness. But for the first time, he was looking forward to waking up again.

The cycle repeated. Drift into consciousness, listen to what the figures were saying, maybe even discover some new sense or word before he was sedated and the process began anew.

Although the green tint still persisted, his vision had cleared somewhat. Eyes now able to see, every person that crossed his field of view was unique yet similar. Each wore long light green coats, those with longer hair had it tied up and out of the way, and many wore glasses. They all had one thing in common though; dark bruising shadows under their eyes.

Strange…

The (shadow?....no that was a person...) person that caught his eye most was the one referred to as Sir. Their lab coat was rumpled, long brown hair wrapped in a messy bun. Their most noticeable feature was the muddy brown squares always seeming to slide down their nose that did nothing to hide the dark circles bruising their eyes.

He’d figured this was probably the person in charge. He also thought they should probably be the one sleeping instead of him. He didn’t understand why he thought these things.

During his stretches of awareness in the cyclical dance of sleeping and waking, he realized a few things. One; his word comprehension had improved leaps and bounds, mind no longer lagging behind as he listened in on the chatter around him. Two, he had more knowledge about the world than he knew to do with, words and tastes and concepts he couldn’t place an origin to flitted about in his mind. It was strange to him, but he didn’t understand why.

According to the scientists whose bags were almost as deep as Sir’s, he should be ready for the “final check” within the week, “so long as no more complications arise”. He didn’t know what that meant, but he’d overheard them talking about a procedure. He was to be kept awake for longer and longer durations as they monitored his vitals, all to ensure there would be no issues.

Even with this knowledge, waking up to the green tint—the light and color that always surrounded him (ectoplasmic fluid he’d heard someone say)—being drained from the world around him was jarring. It made him feel a slight twist in his chest, and he didn’t know why.

He blinked, once...twice, and then the feeling of weightlessness left him.

He fell.

The instant his feet touched the ground, his arms shot out to try and steady himself. He collided with a clear barrier—glass? He was in a tube—doing nothing as his legs gave out from under him. Thick liquid bubbled up his throat, his body thrown into a coughing fit as lungs worked to expel the bitter green goo from his airways. After a few tense moments of wheezing, he finally was able to take in greedy lungfuls of air. He was still adjusting to the shift in perspective, and had to close his eyes when a warm clear liquid—water, perhaps?—started spraying him from above. He heard his breathing rattle his chest as he felt the shower wash away the last of the green solution he’d been submerged in.

In, out. He wondered why he hadn’t needed to breathe before. In. Out. The water surrounded him in a strange sort of comfort, the ectoplasm in his...room? was all he’d ever known. After what felt like hours the water shut off. He opened his eyes, blinking away any lingering droplets out of his lashes. He saw the strange people standing before him.

The coats weren’t green, they were white .

Everything, it seemed, was white. From the spotless floors and walls to the shiny tables and chairs and even the computers. Everything was a blinding white. He thought it strange, but didn’t know why. He missed green. The only specks of colors were the people themselves—the scientists, his mind told him.

The sound of hissing shocked him from his thoughts, the mechanical clicking louder than anything he could ever remember hearing. A chill breeze ghosted over his skin from behind as he snapped his head to look over his shoulder, and his mind registered what had once been a room constantly enveloped in shadows was currently as bright as the lab in front of him.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention most. No. Along the wall of the room there were several more pods exactly like the one he was in. Most were empty but a few seemed to be filled with the same green he’d been held in. He blinked a few more times. Those containers... he looked carefully and could just barely make out vague humanoid shapes of varying sizes submerged within.

He didn’t have any time to think before two people in white hazmat suits stood tall before him, their forms blocking the other pods from his line of sight. With stiff movements, they lifted him up and out, gently carrying him to the singular piece of furniture in the room: a tall white bench. They set him down carefully, as if he might shatter with the slightest breeze, quick to place small white squares on his forehead. They repeated this with his wrists, chest—most everywhere on his thin body. He wanted to lean into the contact, but before he could even comprehend what was happening, they pulled away. A large holographic screen appeared beside them, filled with so many numbers and symbols and lines that it made his head swim.

“Vital signs seem stable. Heart rate is holding steady.”

He looked at them, blinking in the bright light of the room, still trying to decipher the information. He startled for a moment as one of the hazmats carefully gripped his chin, tilting it up towards their faces. They produced a strange metal tube and swept a blinding light across his eyes. He tried to pull away, blinking rapidly, but the grip held strong.

“Photopupillary reflex is good.” A snapping sound by his ear made him try to jerk his head, unable to break the strong grip. “As is its response to auditory stimulation,” they said with a sigh, finally letting go of his chin with a glare towards the other hazmat.

He turned his head quickly to try and keep both of them in his field of vision, wary of what they would do if he took his eyes off of them for a moment. His worry was broken after what seemed minutes when one of the hazmats finally spoke again.

“Alright, I need you to nod twice if you can understand me,” said the one who snapped by his ear earlier. There was a moment of hesitation before he complied, turning most of his attention towards them. He couldn’t see the figure’s smile, but their eyes—warm and brown—crinkled in happiness, crows feet more pronounced than before.

Next to them, the other hazmat—he thought they had hazel eyes—seemed to be taking notes.

“That’s wonderful. Now, we’ve got a few questions for you as well as some sensory and motor control tests we need you to do for us. Think you can do that?” He nodded hesitantly. “Perfect,” the person responded with a smile in their voice.

He was directed to lean back until he was laying flat on the bench, his exhausted body still not used to the continuous movement, let alone being awake for so long. He grimaced after he’d collapsed not three steps into a walk around the room; a test to gauge balance and fine motor skills. He felt a tugging, squeezing sensation in his chest, not wanting to disappoint, but Brown-eyes just laughed and told him it was fine, setting him back down on the bench.

They instructed him to follow a finger left to right, another test of holding his arms up and outstretched for a count of ten. That one was harder than he’d thought, arms shaking after only a moment. Deep breathing was another thing they wanted to test, and his heartbeat. He thought he had one at least? He followed the instructions and felt himself tiring further, a small yawn slipping out of his mouth.

“Well, aside from suboptimal muscle mass, low stamina, and some minor dexterity issues, your test results were good—Great even! Miles better than we expected, in all honesty.” Hazel-eyes removed the white patches from his body while Brown-eyes talked to him, praise in their voice. He saw as the lines of the strange screen went flat and the numbers dropped to zero. Brown-eyes continued, “Now I’m sure you’re tired so w-”

There was the click as the door unlocked, followed by an airy woosh. Both hazmats stood up, ramrod straight, looking to the entrance. He felt cold, a shiver finding its way down his slight frame. Brown-eyes was the one to respond first. “Sir, we were just finishing up the testing.”

He followed their gazes, his eyes widening as Sir walked into the room with an air of authority and a heavy step. Their coat was also pure white, no longer stained with a green tinge from the ectoplasm. Their bun had more fly-aways than usual, but what really caught his attention was their glasses—no longer were they a muddy brown but rather a bright, bold, fire engine red. Their dark circles seemed more pronounced too. They looked tired.

“You can leave then,” Sir called with a wave of his hand. Instantly the two were rushing out the door, leaving him alone with Sir. He watched as they circled around him, their icy blue eyes sending a rush of...something through him. He felt like he was being analyzed, a calculating glare hungrily staring at all the data he could provide...

He liked Brown-eyes better, he decided.

“Its muscle tone is minimal, suggesting inadequate strength, with a minor twitch in the left hand, but that is not unusual… Some cosmetic defects present, but that can be overlooked for now...” They spoke aloud but he understood the words weren’t directed towards him. Sir circled around him like a predator with its prey for a moment longer before speaking with a slight grin. “Overall, acceptable.” Coming to a stop in front of him, Sir held their arms behind their back, standing tall and proud. “Usually we’d wait before testing vocal patterns and supernatural abilities, but I already have the commander breathing down my neck, so we need to hurry things along.” Another grin. Their eyes didn’t match their smile like Brown-eyes’ did.

A nod to indicate he was listening, signalling Sir to continue. “Now, ask me any questions you’d like and I will do my utmost best to answer.” The light reflected dangerously off their glasses.

Any questions? Any at all? So many flooded his mind. Who are you? Where am I? Why are there more tanks filled with green stuff? How long have I been asleep? The questions kept rolling, overlapping, and turning into a jumbled mess of chaos, but one stood out among the rest. One he figured needed answered before all others.

A question he felt like he’d choke on if he didn’t ask it.

“Who,” he cleared his throat, voice soft as he spoke his first words, “who am I?”

Sir scoffed, blue eyes sharp as they looked down on him. “Not a who, a what .” Pinned by their gaze, his mind absorbed the new information. “Experiment number 31. Classification: Clone.” A wide smile stretched their lips.

He gave a weak nod as the meaning sank in. A what. Not a person, but a clone, a copy. Inhuman, a thing, a tool. A part of him fought against those words, but it was small and easily quieted.

Sir canted his head up with a single finger, their glasses reflecting 31’s wide green eyes. “Now don’t disappoint me.”

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp 31

60 notes · View notes

sweetwritertanya · 4 years

Text

Nothing To Be Jealous About (Taehyung)

Summary: Your friend has a gallery exhibition for which you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, were invited. But once you see the painting you were looking for the most, Taehyung starts to act weird and you don’t understand why.

Warnings: soft SMUT by the end! This was going to be just a fluffy one, but I couldn’t control myself! Mainly, there will be: erotic body touching, fingering, just the tiniest bit of dirty talk but barely.

Word Count: 3208

Laughs and random chatter fill the large room as you and your boyfriend walk into the gallery. It was a bright space, with tall white walls and lot of artificial lighting even though the large glass windows provided more than enough natural sunshine. Your heart skipped at the sight of so many people already in, walking around and conversing amongst themselves as they appreciated the beautiful art exposed on the walls. It was a warm sunny morning and people were clothed in light fresh garments, between casual and formal wear for the occasion.

You were wearing a cool blue and white strapped knee-length dress with bishop sleeves down to your elbows, a pattern of reddish and pink pastel flowers overlaying the stripes, pink pastel heels to match it. The tie at the smallest part of your waist complimented your large figure and the warm weather was no invitation for you to bring a jacket. As much as you believed you put some thought into your outfit, your partner’s seemed a lot more fitting. Taehyung was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, made of a fresh material, painted as if a work of abstract art itself, with tones of blue, grey and brown. It was tucked into very well-fitted dark jeans that complimented his tall silhouette and shiny designer shoes. Dark wavy hair styled beautifully, you found yourself thinking that he was the one who deserved to be displayed in a museum somewhere.

Out of the two of you, at first you assumed you would be the one jumping with excitement and fidgeting in place due to nervousness, eager to see how your friend’s first art exposition would go. Turns out Taehyung seemed to be even more giddy than you were, particularly interested in seeing one particular piece of work from your friend’s catalogue.

“Where is it? Where is it?” he asks in an almost childish way, contradicting his deep tone of voice in your ear.

You smile and shake your head, taking hold of his arm and guiding him through the space as you talked, eyes out in search of the artist himself.

“C’mon, we need to find my friend first! We can’t just browse around without saying hi to him first and ask how the exposition is doing” you admonish, to which Taehyung pouts disappointed.

“There’s a bunch of people, it’s obviously going great, right? Can’t we just see him after?”

“Nope. And there he is, let’s go!”

After meeting with your friend and congratulating him on the apparent success of his art exposition, Taehyung’s impatience wins him over and he asks about the painting he has been dying to see. You roll you eyes and advise your friend to just lead the way before your boyfriend explodes with curiosity. The man laughs and gladly takes you to the wall where that particular piece was proudly exposed.

“Oh my God, Andre, it’s so beautiful!” You exclaim as you approach it, breathless at the beautiful colors and detail. “I had no idea it would turn out this good, well done!”

“Thanks, Y/N. It’s one of my proudest works and the second most expensive of all the ones in this gallery” he informs, with a wink and moving eyebrows.

“No way, really!” you gasp, unbelieving. “The second most expensive?”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. Thanks again.”

As you assure Andre that it was entirely welcome, nothing for him to be thankful for, one arm comes around your shoulders and Taehyung’s hand grasps your shoulder just a bit more tightly than it needed to be, staying unusually quiet, when this was the painting he had been so anxious to see.

“All good, Tae-Tae? What do you think? Isn’t it pretty?” you ask as you look up at him.

He smiles and agrees, nodding with his head, suddenly changing the conversation and asking if your friend could show his favorite piece’s around the gallery. You frown, knowing perfectly well how to distinguish Taehyung’s natural smile from his fake ones, and that was a fake smile if you ever saw one. He kept his arm around your shoulders all the way around the gallery, never getting more than a few inches away from your side, his steps always in sync with yours as you went. It was just the tiniest bit uncomfortable, but you let it go since you didn’t really understand what was going on.

Near the end of the improvised tour around, with just a few more works to show, Taehyung actually excuses himself claiming he had a work-related phone call to make. You found it just a bit weird since he never told you anything about that and warning bells ring around in your brain when he kisses your lips strongly before leaving the building, leaving you a bit dumbfounded next to your friend. He had never been one to display these kinds of affections before in public.

Embarrassed, you keep the goodbyes with Andre short and hurry out of the gallery room, searching for your boyfriend. He was already next to a cab, phone against ear until he sees you and hangs up soon before you come closer.

“Now, what was that about?” you demand to know as you stand next to him, eyebrows knitted together and lips tugging down in frustration.

“Got us a ride, baby. What do you say we go out for lunch? At that place you’ve been wanting to go?” he suggests, ignoring your question and confused stare.

“You have practice this afternoon, it would take too long. And don’t ignore me!”

“Oh, right… How about we just go home and order something delicious, hum? My treat!” he smiles, this time a more truthful smile that shows his gums and reaches his rounded eyes.

Before you can answer it, he guides you to the backseat of the taxi and kisses your cheek before going around and entering, giving the driver the address to his house. You sigh in defeat and go along with it, Tae stretching his arm again around your shoulders once again, pulling you both more to the middle of the back seat than to each other’s sides. And yet he keeps looking out the window, a bit of tension in his sharp jawline.

Once he opened the door to his modern house, in which you got dressed this morning and gathered quite a volume of your wardrobe in his closet rather than yours back at the apartment, you took off your heels while he slipped out of his shoes quickly and tapped on his phone, asking you about what you wanted to eat. In the time it took for you to put on your slippers, place your heels in the proper place and meet him in the kitchen, it was decided to order sushi from a delicious restaurant you had eaten at before.

“It says they’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. I’ll get the table ready” he offers, something you usually had to ask of him.

Placing a hand on his arm, you stop him from reaching for the cupboard where he kept the plates. Your hands travel down the soft fabric of his shirt over his arms and enclose his hands in yours, interlacing his long fingers with your chubby ones. You lean in and peer at his hesitant eyes with nothing but love and worry.

“Tae, what’s wrong? You were fine this morning but now you’re acting weird. What happened?”

The boy closes his eyes and exhales a deep breath, changing his stance and leaning with his waist against the lower cupboard, fingers wrapping sturdily with yours as if to give him courage. He presses his wide lips together so tightly they almost disappear, those broad and expressive eyebrows knitting together.

“You didn’t tell me it was a nude” he murmurs in a deep voice, a bit of frustration coming through the barely annunciated words.

“What?” You had a hard time understanding what he was saying.

“The painting! You never said you were going to pose for your friend naked!” he finally yells, anger and bitterness released from the mask of indifference he had been wearing.

It all seems so clear now, you actually wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner.

“Tae-Tae, it was just of my back! I was wearing pants under the sheet and my chest was covered the whole time” you assured, trying to put any doubt he may have had to rest. “And I told you about it the same day he asked me to model for him. Remember? How I said he would be very professional and if I felt too uncomfortable, I would just give up? You were the one who convinced me to go ahead and do it!”

“Well, I must have not heard the part where you said it was a nude painting!” he defended, huffing through his enlarges nostrils.

“It was not a nude! Again, I was wearing clothes, he just painted it to seem like I wasn’t it” you reinforce.

“Your back was bare for him to see for days while he was painting. I’m not sure I’m okay with another man seeing you like that” he pressed, eyes set on the ground.

“It only took him three days and what do you mean ‘seeing you like that’? You can’t possibly be jealous, right? Of Andre?” you question, baffled by his reactions.

“How couldn’t I? The bastard likes your painting so much he marks it as the second most expensive on his catalogue! The way he keeps smiling at you, and winking at you, in no time he will be asking for a full body nude and I am not okay with that!”

You can’t help it, you actually chuckle at that, the notion being so ridiculous in your mind that it only originated disbelieving giggles. Even the serious not-amused look Taehyung gives you doesn’t stop your smile, even if it does keep you from laughing further. You clear your throat, step closer to him and squeeze at his hands, still tangled in yours, until he looks back at you.

“You have nothing to be jealous about. Andre is very happily and very seriously engaged. And may I add, he is engaged to a very beautiful, exotic and thin lady, so I am quite sure I am not his style.” You enlighten, shrugging your shoulders. “Did you notice? I think he even got rid of one or two of my back rolls in that painting. So, can you really say that is a painting of me when he changed it a bit?”

You see those big coffee-colored eyes blink a few times, long eyelashes making them stand out so much, first in surprise and then in embarrassment, resorting to pulling you closer into a hug where he can hide his face in your shoulder.

“Nonsense. That was your back, I have it memorized by heart.” He whispers against your hair, arms wrapped around your middle and holding you close against his chest.

You smile and throw your arms across his back, hands resting at his shoulder blades, head leaning and resting against his.

“By heart, you say?”

“Hum” is all the response you get, feeling the man’s smile against the skin of your neck as he starts leaving a trace of pecks all around.

You close your eyes and crook your neck to the side for better access, a familiar heat filling you from head to toes with his affections. Taehyung has always been one to shower you with attention and love, that feeling of being genuinely appreciated never failing to amaze you. Your lips part and you let out a sigh, an odd flutter in your stomach making you search for his mouth with yours.

As you move your head to encounter his, lips meet and your head spins at the lovely feeling of his hands exploring your skin over your clothes, embers crackling silently bellow his touch. A thrill runs up your spine and something in your belly churns as his lips engage fervently with yours, soon his tongue darting out just enough to dance with yours, and you taste honeyed spice.

The body gives in to his touch and caresses without even asking for you permission, your tubby frame leaning into his slender one as your knees rattle. The hands that were so innocently brushing your back had turned greedy and naughty, Taehyung’s big hands descending down to your squishy hips and cupping your succulent ass, adoring the way he could barely hold on to all of the well-padded curves.

Kiss growing hungrier, he moves his head to the other side and deepens the kiss, mouth ravishing on yours sensuously, the vertigo feeling taking over your brain and you have to hold on to his sides in order to not fall. But he has you powerfully in his hands, darting now to your luscious thighs, digits sinking in to the dimples in the flesh and squeezing it before soothing it with smooth strokes.

Suddenly, Taehyung turns you both around so that you are the one leaning against the lower cupboard, hands grasping at the top to keep you steady at the abrupt change, while he presses his body close to yours and dips his head into your neck again, determined to taint the skin there.

“I have all of you memorized by heart, love. All this heavenly body of yours, made for me and only me to appreciate. Better than any poor attempt of portraying it” he assures.

Your breathing is more than erratic now, fervent blood rushing to your puffy cheeks, waves of arousal pouring down your spine. Those hands that have proved time and time again to be both your curse and your salvation are finding their way into your inner thighs and there is no denying how stirred you were. The itch that had formed between your legs was becoming more and more uncontrollable, the stain on your lace panties a clear indication of that.

The index finger pulls the fabric to the side while the middle finger dives between your swollen folds, immediately drenched in the gathering of your juices. Taehyung hisses at your ear and then grunts, teeth catching your earlobe before whispering in a low erotic voice.

“So wet for me, already, darling? You know I can’t control myself when you get like this.”

“A-and you k-know… I always get like this when it’s you, Tae” you counter back, shamefully aware of how little could get you going when it came to this man right here, with one hand under your dress, between your legs, and another crawling up your body.

“A match made in heaven” he sniggers, finding your lips again.

You whimper into his mouth when his hand cups your breast, thumb moving up and down the fabric just above where he knew was your hardening nipple, making your body shudder at the stings of pleasure shooting to your core. The digits placed at your womanhood start moving too, middle and ring finger sliding back and forth on the silky center, mercilessly teasing your throbbing hole and rapidly finding your puckered pearl.

Impatient, Taehyung pulls the neckline of your dress down your tits, immediately doing the same to the cups of your bra, exposing your breasts to him. His head dives in, mouth wrapping around one nipple and suckling on it until he hears you scream out, his free hand tweaking and twisting the other one before he switched places. In the meantime, his digits frustratingly start slipping in and out of your hole, just in little thrusts that don’t dive all the way in, while his thumb draws circles around your clit slowly driving you insane.

“Taaeee….! Please!” you plead in a whimper, moisture starting to slide down your legs and an excruciating tightness in your abdominal area demanding satisfaction.

Your hands are fisting at the fabric of his shirt on top of his biceps and you have half a mind to worry about ripping it, knowing the shirt was expensive as all hell. But at this rhythm you would pop off every single button of his shirt, rip his pants out and ride him until the next century in order to find your release.

Sensing your urgency, Taehyung smiles with one nipple still in his mouth and finally, finally entered his two long fingers inside your tight hole, sliding them in to the knuckles and providing the most heavenly stretch as he scissors them inside, your walls clinging to him like a vice. Your face scrunches up in pure delectation, the subsiding movement that follows dragging moans from the depth of your soul as you claw this man’s arms and threw you head back with eyes closed.

He twists his wrist and in a nice pace starts plunging his fingers in and out, the pad of his digits rubbing deliciously against your walls and curling just at the right place inside, effortlessly reaching for that spot inside that strikes your whole body with an overpowering current of pleasure. You were already so close to the edge, so eager to jump, and when his thumb starts jiggling your fleshy button in little circles, at the same time he speeds up his fingers, rather than jumping you are pushed into your edge and explode into a blinding infinity, crying out Taehyung’s name and body convulsing, your pliant inner muscles fluttering in hyper-sensitivity around his still moving fingers.

Toes curled and body contorted, your slowly breathe with relief at the waves of pleasure slowly undulating through your body, your body slowly but surely coming down its high and your eyes capable of opening and not just seeing dots of white and gold. Instead you see this magnificent man standing proudly in front of you, hand removed from your core and cleaning his dripping fingers with his mouth, the other hand rearranging your clothes back in place, pulling the cups of your bra back up as well as the neckline of your dress.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to get that” he says, and you are still a little bit too numb to really understand.

“What?” you say, confusion mixing with your post-orgasmic serenity.

As if answering your question, you realize the doorbell is ringing, meaning someone is at the door. Taehyung shrugs and locks down at himself. Following his eyes, you realize that on the front of his tight black pants, there is a clear outline of his very erect cock, almost bursting out of the fabric.

“Can’t answer the door like this. Here, have my card and pay for the meal.” He takes his wallet from his back pocket and hands you his card. You nod and make way for the door, but he grabs you by the elbow just enough to whisper lowly in your ear, creating goosebumps at the back of your neck. “And hurry, we don’t have much time before I have to leave for practice.”

And you know he wasn’t referring to the amount of time he had left to lunch with you. Paying the delivery man, you find yourself thinking how convenient it was you ordered sushi, for any other dish would have grown cold by the time you two were done.

#bts chubby reader #bts x chubby reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff #plus size reader #kpop plus size #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop chubby reader

385 notes · View notes

feitansluver · 3 years

Text

Two Birds on a Wire (THE PROLOGUE)

a Feitan x Reader series (gender neutral)

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smidge of violence

Series Summary: If you wish to see the series summary, check out my masterlist (which should be up now, if not just give me 10 mins) which you can access through my pinned navigations post on my blog. It might have a teensy bit of spoilers but nothing too drastic since this is a major wip.

Prologue Summary: This story's beginning takes place before the troupe was even a figment of anyone's imagination. Meteor City is a dangerous place, and many can vouch for me when I say this. The place where good deeds never come truly from the heart, but instead for the chance to get what you wanted from someone else. Here begins the story of how Feitan Portor and Y/n L/n would soon meet, for real this time.

Author's Note: This entire series is inspired by the song "Two Birds" by Regina Spektor. I originally wrote this as a small x reader for a writing sample, but I like it so much, it'll be a series instead. This is going to be a slow burn series. As you can tell from my headcanons, I'm super detailed when it comes to adding backstories. It's even worse w actual stories. I'm not too sure how many chapters this will be but, Please enjoy! reblogs, likes, and constructive criticism is appreciated. Heads up, this will be the shortest 'chapter' of them all, so do be prepared haha. Italicized = Flashbacks!

The aroma of decaying matter engulfed the air like a thick fog, pulling down and wrapping itself around the shiny newcomers to the rather large wasteland of an area. These newcomers weren't wealthy, no, instead, they were here for the ego boost that accompanied the action of them tossing any worthless item that would instantly be scavenged by a poor resident, usually a child since they were small and naturally agile. Well, as agile as they could be growing up eating other's waste. Those bastards with their sickening laughs of arrogance. They'd be frowned upon in a normal society, but here, oh here, this was just what they'd call a Wednesday.

Where exactly is 'here,' you may be asking? To the people passing through, they might've considered it to be hell. Perhaps a dumpster. Hell, they might have even passed through with out even noticing the cries of agony as a mother's child passed away from malnutrition, without noticing the way that no resident seemed to acknowledge anything other than themselves, even the murder of a shopkeep in broad daylight. No, see they're too focused on trying to steal to survive, perhaps even slave away to a more fortunate resident for a chance at life, if you could even call this living. 'Maybe they're just introverted people,' oh how naïve you must be to even succumb to that conclusion. 'Here' there is no such thing as introversion, with this trait, you won't survive for more than 10 minutes.

'Here' is none other than Meteor City.

Coughing could be heard around every corner from the ill, penniless residents who were selling everything in their possession just to survive another miserable day. A feeble attempt truly, it's not as though the medicine was at least 50% likely to cause some sort of change. Nonetheless, Meteor City wasn't too bad, no. Children scurried amongst each other, shouting with smiles upon their somewhat sunken faces as they played along the areas of the city that were truly wastelands. There were no true friends created in Meteor City, but these children have yet to understand.

All except for one. A rather small boy, whether that be from malnutrition or genetics, with black hair and heartless black eyes sat upon an old shipping crate with an uninterested look upon his young face as he watched the children run about. "How pedestrian," was all that came out of his cracked, dehydrated lips. Only an 8-year-old from Meteor would consider playing to be pedestrian. Aside from his shocking attitude, with one glance you could certainly tell he wasn't from here, such 'exotic' features couldn't have been bred in this hellhole. The boy was dressed in what seemed to be traditional Asian clothes, ones that were too big for his figure, all black and seemingly thick yet still lightweight enough to where he wouldn't die from a heat stroke, the word "Feitan" engraved over his left breast. Perhaps this was his name, neither he or the townsfolk new, but it was what they called him when they believed he wasn't looking. He was frequently seen mumbling to himself, and paired with his stone cold gaze, he was deemed "unapproachable" to others, adults and children alike.

"Hey, you!" A call from one of the children pulled Feitan out of his thoughts. The blackette raised his gaze to find another small child before him, taller yes, but no doubt younger, no stranger to his eyes yet not an aly. "My name's Marley. Do you want to play with us?" Feitan rolled his eyes in annoyance and spoke with his broken interpretation of the city's language. "Why would me want t-," He analyzed the other children beside the runt Marley and froze his gaze upon another small child, who was smiling as they spoke to a friend, one he's kept his eye on for a long time.

(Y/n) (L/n).

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years ago, Meteor City, 3rd Person Omniscient

The sky boomed a thunderous roar as lighting flashed across the city. Purples and dark ominous grey's colored over the townsfolk as the rushed their preparations for the storm. Adults were sheltering children, even if they didn't know them, most likely with the promise of something in return, while also taking in whatever possessions they needed before the storm's condition worsened.

A 4-year-old child, Y/n, ran about the poorly made streets, hoping to find a place of shelter before it was too late. Of course, since they're small and malnourished, they weren't very efficient, constantly stumbling over their two feet and pausing to catch their balance.

"Please, somebody help me!"

They continued to run through the now damp streets as the rain began to pour violently. Water drenched the poor child as they ran around banging on doors screaming for help, yet still, no one listened. It was almost as though the entire town had become a ghost city.Just as Y/n was about to give up, a hand grabbed their arm harshly and quickly pulled them into a small, dark, poorly-made shack.

Y/n jumped back in surprise with a yelp only to be pushed down by the other party, quite roughly might I add. "Shhh." A firm, seemingly male voice commanded with no other words as he sat beside the younger child. "Are you going to eat me??" Y/n spoke in a panicked tone. "The old lady by the library told me a story about a demon who comes out during horrible storms and eats the children who are wandering the streets." They cried with their arms curled around their legs, staring at the silhouette in fear beside of them.

The strange savior huffed under his breath. Why did he even pull this idiot into his home. Who was he to be providing shelter for others when he could barely take care of himself? God he never hated himself more until that moment. There was no place for some snotty kid, nor did he want to deal with them either. "Me no eat you. you taste bad, too whiny." Was all the boy said, hoping to get the other to take the hint and shut up.

"O-oh. My name's y/n, what's yours?" The 4-year-old spoke, no longer carrying a fearful tone. The older boy rolled his eyes at how naïve and trusting the other was. He didn't bother answering, and in fact, he never said another word to Y/n for the remaining duration of the storm.

Y/n ended up falling asleep after a while from all of the chaos earlier. The silhouette eyed the child beside him before closing his own eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Soft snoring was all that was heard by the boy, aside from the pouring rain that is. Falling into his thoughts, he began to drift off into a light, alert slumber. Well, he was until he felt a weight hit his left shoulder.

His eyes shot open as he looked to his left with a scowl upon his face. "Idiot pest." He grumbled agitatedly as he noticed Y/n had fallen asleep on his shoulder. As much as he wanted to push them off, he quite enjoyed the quiet he was now receiving. With an annoyed sigh, he closed his own eyes and drifted to his previous light sleep.

When Y/n awoke with a yawn and began to identify their surroundings, they almost screamed in fear and confusion. They jumped up and racked their brain for some sort of explanation. Wait, it was coming to them now: the mystery boy and him providing them shelter. Properly looking at their surroundings, they noticed were still in the shack; however, this time, they were alone. With a quick glance outside, the small child ran out of the shack, patting themselves down to make sure they still had their items in their pockets.

A sigh of relief escaped their lips as they felt everything there. Digging into their pockets to find their last bit of money to buy a bit of food, Y/n noticed there was a folded piece of poorly maintained paper in their pockets. With a confused hum and a head tilt, they unfolded the piece of paper and read in poor grammar and messy writing:

"You owe me, Brat."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

They blackette's face remained in a deapan expression as his own eyes locked back with Marley's "Yes, me play." He spoke emotionlessly as he hopped down from his crate, dusting himself off as he began walking closer to the group of children. A handful of yays, yippees, and downright cries of joy could be heard from the crowd of children as they gathered one more player for their game. "Okay, great. So here's what we're going to play.."

The voices blurred and faded into nothingness as the eight-year-old fell into his cunning mind, his eyes yet again landed on Y/n with his usual piercing gaze. Only difference was that this time, there was a twinge of excitement and malice, lots of malice.

God how he wanted to make them pay. A total troglodyte they were, so ignorant and easily distracted by such trivial things.

You see, Feitan never got back that favor, and he certainly wasn't one to hold back when it came to exploiting others. Especially younger, naïve children who hadn't seen nor understood just how horrific the world could be. How horrific he could make their world be.

Go ahead, call him a monster. It's such a common title for him, he might've even believed it were his own name if it hadn't been for the thread engraved onto his shirt.

Feeling eyes watching them, Y/n turned to face the newer strange boy with their head tilted in confusion. The blackette walked over to the younger child, the two of them standing at the same height. "Hello." Feitan spoke up with a small smile and a friendly wave. It certainly looked realistic and Y/n couldn't feel any malicious intent within the other boy, though if only they knew how fake that smile was. "Hey there! I'm Y/n, what's your name?" The child spoke with a close-eyed smile as they waved in return.

'Oh this was going to be fun.' The boy thought with an inward chuckle of sadism.

Feitan Portor wasn't one to forgive and forget. Hell, he came from Meteor City, the place where every good action was never from the heart but instead the manipulative portion of people's minds. No matter who or what he had to go through,

He was getting back what he owed, and he was expecting it NOW.

#Two Birds on a Wire: The Series #feitansluver #feitan x reader #slowburn #feitan portor x reader #feitan #feitan portor hxh'#feitan portor #hxh #phantom troupe #phantomtroupe #would you believe me if I said I plan on making this a romance series?

40 notes · View notes

hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Text

The Best Quiche in Tokyo

Rating: ‼️18+ Minors Do Not Interact ‼️

Warnings: explicit sexuality (it literally takes place at an orgy so like.......Y’know)

Characters: Hatter (Takeru), Aguni, and Female Reader (You)

Summary: When one of your customers invites you to a potluck-slash-orgy, you assume the “orgy” part is a joke—because nobody really hosts a potluck and an orgy at the same time, right?

Notes: One time, @nessinborderland (happy belated birthday btw) gave me the brilliant idea of Hatter hosting an orgy and serving really good food and I just......ran with it. This ended up being part comedy, part character study—and mostly features Aguni, if you can believe it! I don’t know, I just let the story take me where it wanted to go! (Also, this is definitely the longest thing I’ve written on here, so get ready to dig in!)

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon in March, and you’re standing in front of a hat shop. Well, technically, you’re slightly to the left of a hat shop, peering down a skinny alleyway in search of a door or a set of stairs—something to indicate that there is, in fact, an apartment up there and this is not just an elaborate prank.

There is a very good chance this is a prank—after all, the eccentric man who walked into your stationary store two weeks ago seemed...off. Not in a bad way, just. One-of-a-kind. Unique. Entirely himself, in a way that people usually aren’t.

Was he flirting or was he just overly friendly when he leaned in just a bit too close to see the various fonts available for his choosing? It’s difficult to say. He did seem genuinely interested to know the difference between serif and sans serif, which doesn’t much thrill your customers on the regular. Does asking for an extra business card ‘for his personal records’ count as a pick-up line? It’s hard to say. Not that it matters much, of course—you are a professional, he is a customer, and there’s nothing more to it.

And you really are a professional, because when he told you that he wanted—in metallic gold, 30-point, center aligned—to say, quote, “The Third Annual Springtime Potluck and Orgy: Presented by Danma Takeru,” you didn’t so much as bat an eye. Partially because he was very insistent that you spell his name correctly, and partially because. Well. How does a person respond to that?

In truth, he ended up being one of your better customers—he showed a genuine interest in the process while still deferring to your expertise—and when one of the printed invitations arrived in your mailbox, you figured you might as well go see what the fuss is about. It could be an opportunity to meet some new friends, maybe drum up a little business if you’re lucky.

And besides—a potluck-slash-orgy? Who would even do that?

The merry little jingle of bell catches your attention, and you turn your head to see a solemn-looking man peeking his head around the hat shop’s glass door. He looks at you. He looks at the plastic-wrapped pie in your hands. He looks back at you.

He frowns.

“Hi,” you say, putting on your most charming smile in the hopes that he’ll stop looking at you like you just slapped him across the face, “I’m, uh, I’m here for the party!”

You shuffle over to him, careful not to scuff the white of your sensible-yet-pretty patent leather heels on the sidewalk. Maybe you’re dressed too formally—he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans while you’re sporting a calf-length chiffon dress dyed in a lovely array of watercolor blues and violets.

Oh dear, what a faux-pas! There was no dress code listed on the invite, but maybe you should’ve dressed in a more casual fashion. You don’t live far, you could probably run home quickly and change...

“Do you...have an invitation,” the man asks, crossing his arms across his chest and furrowing his brow. Is he annoyed? No, no. He seems. Confused? Wary? How very strange.

“Oh, of course,” you answer, reaching a fumbling hand into your purse to search for the little pink envelope, “I almost forgot it walking out the door, but I remembered at the last second! I can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes!”

The man doesn’t say anything, but leans forward to inspect the invitation once you manage to produce it from the cluttered mess that is your handbag.

“I know the time said it started at three, but the pie took a little longer than expected. It takes time for the chocolate to set, and—“ you gasp, covering your mouth with your invite-laden hand, “I haven’t kept you waiting, have I? I’m so sorry, Mister...?”

“Call me Aguni,” he says, and his eyes narrow slightly when you give him your most chipper ‘thank you’ and apologize for not being able to shake his hand at the moment. What a strange man.

“You,” he asks slowly, “you read the invitation, right?”

“Of course I did! I’m the one who made them,” you explain, puffing your chest up with pride, “and our host was kind enough to send one to me! He must have really liked my work!”

“...Yeah,” the man called Aguni says, “I’m sure that’s it.”

But, to your pleasure, he steps aside and holds the door open for you to enter. Such a strange man, but at least he’s gentlemanly enough to hold the door for you as you step inside.

“Oh, wow,” you say, “this place is amazing!”

And maybe it sounds silly, but you’re being entirely honest. There are hats in shelves, hats hanging on the wall, hats on faceless plastic heads on the counter and placed atop a long wooden table to the left—all of them in different shapes and colors, embellished and feathered and ribboned to the nines. There’s a certain magic to a little place like this, a kind of whimsical charm you want to bottle and keep on the kitchen windowsill.

“Walls could use some paint. Floor needs polished, too,” Aguni says, “but...yeah, I guess it’s nice enough.”

You follow him as he leads you towards the back, your eyes drinking in all the details of this fascinating little shop.

“No, no, the walls and the floor are perfect,” you assert with a wide-mouthed smile, “it gives it character. Makes it feel...like home, I think.”

“Takeru says the same thing,” Aguni answers with a chuckle, “although I also think he just doesn’t want to put in the work. He’s...not very handy.”

There is a second door at the very back of the shop, and once again, Aguni holds it open for you. Perhaps his original air of discontent was a simple case of shyness—maybe he just takes a bit to warm up to people. Well, just wait until he tries your homemade triple-chocolate silk pie; you’ll be best friends in no time!

He leads you into a tiny courtyard, which is just barely big enough to hold a steep set of metal stairs and a handful of plant pots, which remain empty due to the early spring cold. But, oh, it must be so lovely back here when the plants are in full bloom! You say as much to your companion, who actually manages to smile a bit in your direction as he leads you up the stairs.

“Those are mine, actually,” he tells you, his boot-covered feet thunking up the stairs at a leisurely pace, “He lets me garden back here.”

You picture it—this tall, stoic man, kneeling on the ground, his gloved hands tending little green sprouts as the morning sun shines gold and warm on the cold stone ground. The thought of it warms you. Does he know anything about succulents? You’ve always thought they would look so cute in the shop...

“Look,” Aguni says when the two of you reach a very drab-looking door, “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but...you sure you’re ready for this?”

What an odd thing to say! Maybe you’re acting more nervous than you originally thought? It is rather daunting, walking into a party of strangers; but, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

“You’re sweet for worrying about me,” you respond, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “but if everyone is half as lovely as you, I’m sure I’ll do just fine. I will probably stick with you for a while—if that’s okay, of course!”

“Alright, then.” Aguni says—and is that a hint of a blush you see creeping up his neck? All this time, you thought he was just being strange, but he’s just a little shy! You give his arm a knowing pat before withdrawing your touch, and he quickly turns around to unlock the door.

Are all of Takeru’s friends this adorable? You hope so. You follow your bashful escort inside—the genkan is already full of shoes, but you manage to squeeze yours in between a pair of snakeskin wedge heels and the wall. Aguni also removes his boots, and you’re happy he isn’t going to stay down in the hat shop the whole time. He can introduce you to everyone, and maybe—

You hear something. Was that...? No, no, you must be imagining things. You definitely did not just hear a woman moan on the other side of the wall. You stop and angle your head towards the door slightly to get a better listen. It’s all rather muffled (it must be well-insulated!) but there’s definitely some kind of music playing. Maybe it’s part of a song?

It happens again. This time, it’s deeper, and more of a prolonged “ah” sound. And then laughter. Aguni is looking at you in that concerned way of his again.

Instead of waiting for him to open the door for you a third time, you decide to take initiative and open it yourself—a show of confidence, to put his mind at ease. For a moment, it looks like he’s going to try and stop you, but he instead just crosses his arms and watches as you open the door to the rest of the house.

The first thing you see is candles. Little flickering spots of yellow-orange flame, winking inside clear glass votives. A trio of them on the kitchen table to the left, surrounded by a mismatched variety of trays and plates and bowls, each holding a different delicacy.

There’s a candle on the kitchen counter, next to the refrigerator. One on a bookshelf, which is filled to bowing with vinyl LP’s. Two on either side of the television, and a cluster of them on a coffee table next to a fishbowl of shiny gold squares and—

Oh.

Oh, dear.

There are limbs. Moving, writing, reaching. Hands grabbing. Mouths kissing. Mouths...doing things other than kissing. Oh, God, there’s boobs. And somebody’s butt. Aw, geez, there goes another one. How many naked people are there in here, anyways?

“Oh, hey!”

A familiar voice calls out from the fleshy throng, and your stomach drops. Like Venus emerging from the surf, you see Danma Takeru rise up from the crowd, hair mussed and smiling mouth smudged with at least two different colors of lipstick. While he does appear to be wearing some kind of brightly-patterned robe, the more he stands, the less confident you are that it’s actually covering anything.

You spin on your heel, unwilling as of the moment to become visually acquainted with your host’s penis, and you’re met once more with Aguni’s concerned stare. This time, though, you understand why he’s looking at you like that, and it makes the burn of embarrassment creeping up your neck that much hotter.

“Do you want to leave?”

This is. Oh, boy. This is a lot. Aguni must be able to sense your discomfort, although you imagine it’s rather palpable at the moment.

“I,” you say, “I don’t...know.”

And you say you don’t know because you truly don’t know what to do. Was it really so naïve of you to think that the ‘orgy’ part of the invitation was some kind of weird inside joke? Is there some kind of social protocol for these things?

You feel two hands descend upon each of your shoulders, and you try to convince yourself that they are slightly damp with sweat as opposed to any other kind of aqueous material.

“You made it,” Takeru exclaims with genuine excitement as he gives your person a gentle shake, “I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“He’s covered, don’t worry,” Aguni says to you before directing his attention over your shoulder, “I take it you didn’t tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

The hand on your right shoulder stays while the left slips away, leaving room for Takeru to stand at your side and squeeze you against him in a weird little half-hug. In another situation, you might enjoy the way the silk of his robe whispers against the skin of your arms, perhaps smile at the warm comfort of a lazy arm thrown about your shoulders like a heavy scarf, but. Well. Right now, it’s just a little...awkward.

Aguni rolls his eyes.

“About that,” he says, gesturing impatiently at the debauchery behind your back, “I mean, just look at her face.”

“Mori-chan, how could you be so rude to our lovely guest? Darling,” Takeru says, turning your face towards him with two fingers under your chin, “don’t listen to him, you’re...ah, I see what you mean.”

Is your expression really that bad? It must be, because Takeru very slowly and very carefully withdrawing his arm from around your shoulder and taking a generous step to the side. His mouth is twisted into a rather comical gaping frown, his eyes nervously darting side-to-side.

“In my defense,” he says, putting his hands up like some kind of fucked-out traffic cop at a four-way intersection, “the, uh, the orgy part was very prominent. Big letters, right at the top.”

“I,” you reply, “I thought it was...a joke?”

“This is why we don’t just hand out invitations,” Aguni grits through his teeth, “for fuck’s sake, Takeru, we’ve talked about this!”

“I know, I know. I am humble enough to admit when I’ve fucked up, and this time, I have fucked up in a truly spectacular fashion,” Takeru’s gaze shifts from horrified to quizzical as he scrutinized you for a moment, “Unless...you’d like to stay?”

You look at the pie. The slowly-warming chocolate is beginning to sweat beneath the thin film of plastic wrap you so lovingly secured with lilac ribbon.

“Or you could slap him on the way out,” Aguni offers, “he’s very slap-able.”

“It’s true! And when you slap me,” he whips his head to the side suddenly, “my hair does that and it looks really cool!”

Yeah, okay—it did look pretty cool. But, does he deserve to be slapped? Probably for something else, but not for this. It’s a simple misunderstanding, and honest mistake on both your parts.

“I want...” you start, and the way they’re looking at you, wide-eyed and breath-bated, reminds you of the final rose ceremony on The Bachelorette.

It’s kind of hilarious, actually.

“I, uh,” you continue, “I want to...to put this in the refrigerator, if that’s okay? It’s, uh, starting to melt...”

To say that Takeru’s face lights up is an understatement. With a mega-watt smile and a sparkle in his eye, he swoops his arm back around your shoulder and begins leading you towards the kitchen.

Although you have (almost) gotten used to the sea of strangers fucking and moaning in the background, you still choose to politely avert your gaze as you pass them by. You instead focus on Takeru, who has taken this opportunity to explain the inner-workings of...whatever this is.

“...And I personally see to it that these events remain exclusive,” he says, “Although I do occasionally invite outsiders, such as yourself. You were just so sweet and helpful, I couldn’t resist trying my luck and sending you an invite.”

“Thank you,” you say, “although, I, uh...”

He opens the refrigerator door and motions for you to place the pie inside. Luckily, it’s mostly empty, save for a collection of bottled water and a tin of what looks to be cat food. You’re grateful to not have to carry it around anymore, and thank him for his assistance.

It’s finally time for you to acknowledge the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’—except, you’re not exactly sure how to begin.

“I,” you start, stopping to bite your lip, “I, uh. Is it okay if I...don’t, y’know, do the whole...uh...sex thing?”

“Oh, do you prefer to watch?”

“No! I mean, no, uh,” you laugh nervously, “I’m just...”

Takeru chuckles.

“I’m only teasing. You’re more than welcome to skip the sex and go straight to the food. As long as you’re on the kitchen side, nobody will touch you. It’s one of our rules.”

He motions for Aguni to come over with a wave of his arm, smiling when the tall man comes to lean against the kitchen counter.

“Mori-chan also prefers to abstain from the more salacious aspects of our little gathering, so the two of you can keep each other company.”

“I’m usually in charge of the food,” Aguni adds, “and I try to make sure the candles stay lit.”

“I, uh, I noticed those on the way in. They’re nice.”

Takeru leans towards you as if he’s about to share a secret.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate,” he says in a low tone, “but there is a certain stench that comes with these events. Sweat, musk, various secretions...it all really adds up in the end.”

“It’s awful,” Aguni concludes, “but candles help dissipate the worst of it.”

“Oh, and the ambiance,” Takeru exclaims, “there’s just nothing like candlelight to really get people in the mood for—“

A sharp ding! makes you jump. From what you can gather, it came from the small oven to Aguni’s left.

“Hold it right there,” Takeru growls towards Aguni, who had been in the middle of donning a pair of floral-printed oven mitts, “she needs thirty more seconds.”

Aguni looks at you and rolls his eyes. You stifle a giggle behind your hand, hoping your host doesn’t notice.

“I saw that,” Takeru snips towards Aguni, “honestly, Mori-chan, you get one new friend...”

And even though he’s mid-scold, there remains a joviality to Takeru’s tone—a testament, you believe, to what can only be a long-standing friendship between him and Aguni. It’s hard not to feel jealous of their easy back-and-forth, their banter like a well-matched game of tennis.

“Now you can take her out,” Takeru says, “but, so help me God, if you don’t let her rest for seven minutes–“

“–They’ll never find my body, I know, I know,” Aguni finishes, gingerly placing a metal pan on the stove, “Look, we’ve got it handled. You can go back to your side of the party and I’ll call you when it’s plated.”

“Fine,” Takeru answers with a false pout, “but only because I know she’ll keep you honest.”

And just like that, it’s just you and Aguni once more—but, this time, he seems much more at ease to have you around. Happy, almost. It must be kind of boring, sitting alone in a kitchen while everyone else is...well, busy.

“So,” you say, moving to Aguni’s side to peer into the baking pan, “looks kind of like...a quiche?”

“Not just any quiche,” Aguni answers, opening the drawer to his right and digging a hand inside, “the best quiche in Tokyo.”

He pulls out a shiny silver chef’s knife and places it on the counter. Next comes a pair of dainty forks, delicate little things one might use for tea cakes at a French-inspired bistro. Knowing what you know about Takeru—which, granted, isn’t very much at all—it doesn’t surprise you in the least.

“You’re in front of the plates,” he says, tapping the cabinet directly in front of your face, “grab us some?”

“But we’re supposed to wait seven minutes,” you protest, all while following his instructions, “it’s only been...like, three.”

Aguni’s eyes take on a glint of mischief.

“Only a problem if we get caught.”

Honestly, it looks divine. Pillowy-soft and the perfect pale-yellow hue, delicate tendrils of steam billowing out as he drags the knife through. You hadn’t ever seen a non-rectangular quiche before, but you suppose it makes sense; there are a fair few people in attendance, and the standard circular composition wouldn’t quite feed everyone.

He serves you first. A corner piece (which he insists are the best), speckled with herbs and studded with little pieces of what you assume to be some kind of ham. Little strings of cheese stick to the blade of the knife, and Aguni scrapes them off with the side of a fork, which he then hands to you.

“Takeru doesn’t cook much,” Aguni explains, playing his own small square, “but when he does...”

The sound that comes from your mouth as you take your first bite of quiche could rival any of those happening in the orgy across the room. Oh, that is so good! Buttery crust, the salt of cheese and ham, the subtle bite of onion—and there’s something else there, something you can’t quite place, but you know it tastes absolutely heavenly. Immediately, you take another bite.

“Grew the herbs de Provence myself,” Aguni mentions, “He refuses to use store-bought.”

“Makes all the difference,” you respond, “I could eat the whole pan by myself.”

“I did that for my last birthday, actually,” Aguni chuckles around a forkful of quiche, “Takeru insisted on putting all thirty-eight candles in before carrying it to the table—you know, like a dumbass. Part of his hair caught fire, and I had to give him a haircut at two in the morning because he was so distraught.”

The two of you laugh—Aguni at the memory, and you at the idea of a tearful Takeru sulking as Aguni snipping the fried locks with a pair of kitchen shears.

“He forgave me, even though I took a whole two inches off,” Aguni sets his empty plate in the sink and looks out of the small window above it, “He’s not a bad guy, you know. Doesn’t always make the best choices, sure, but he’s got a good heart in him.”

There is a sadness here, something in Aguni that speaks to a troubled past you haven’t quite unearthed yet—and you know better than to press him, especially here, especially now.

“Well, I can’t say I’m an expert,” you say, handing him your plate, “but you two seem like decent people. Orgies aside, of course.”

“Of course,” Aguni nods, “though I don’t suppose you’ll come to the next one, will you?”

For the first time since your arrival, you allow yourself to watch the festivities happening across the room. It isn’t that bad, you suppose—it’s just a group of people having a fun time together, laughing and gasping and enjoying each others’ bodies in a safe and comfortable place. It’s not something you necessarily want to do yourself, but...well, the ‘weird’ factor of the whole thing has gone down exponentially over the past hour or so.

“And miss out on the best quiche in Tokyo,” you say, nudging against Aguni’s arm with your shoulder, “not a chance!”

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #spicy boy #morizono aguni #writings and such #THIS TOOK ME OVER A MONTH TO WRITE OH MY GOD #alice in borderland fanfic #obvi this takes place before borderland #so I guess this is an au?#also I hinted at Ziggy the cat because I am self-indulgent and evil #can’t believe I actually wrote it lads

48 notes · View notes

arknights-imagines · 3 years

Note

the christmas prompt but with executor pleasee

From, Executor

Christmas Letter and Gift event

The Christmas event has now concluded!! 🥺☃️ I'll make a post talking more about the event at a later date! 🌸

You honestly expected to be working during the Holidays, but as it turns out, everyone at Rhodes Island receives a small break for Christmas - and that includes you.

The break was already awfully gracious in your opinion; so imagine your surprise when you had entered your office to collect your belongings to take home with you for the Holidays, only to find a white envelope closed with a red wax seal on your desk.

Brow lifted, you approach your desk and carefully pick it up - on the back of the envelope, your name is printed in oddly familiar uniform hand-printing and the letter feels thin in your hand. Did someone get you a Christmas gift? You don’t recall anyone hinting to you that they were planning to get you one.

Nevertheless, you forget your original reason for coming by your office, and instead you allow all your attention to be captured by the letter; the seal breaks easily, and inside the envelope you find a sheet of paper folded carefully in half, bearing rows upon rows of words written in that same uniform penmanship - but this time you smile and your eyes soften, as when you read the first line you recognize who the writing belongs to.

--------------------

Hello love.

I was not planning on sending you a letter, so please forgive my suddenness. I assure you that I have a reason for taking up your time; though, while I am not certain I will be able to articulate my thoughts very well while writing this, trust in me when I say this letter comes from a place of warmth in my heart that I did not even know existed until you and I encountered each other.

While this is indeed a Holiday letter, I see no use in Christmas; but I am well aware others care for it very much. Laterano commemorates Christmas to an extreme extent, even going as far as decorating the streets, churches and all buildings for the occasion - they are very advanced in technology, and so many of the cities are illuminated with phenomenal light displays during this time of year; I have seen such on many occasions. I am educated on the traditions closely related to Christmas and I saw that it mattered to others, though I did not understand the motive behind celebrating it. I lacked a reason to spend time enjoying the Holidays, as well as someone to enjoy said Holidays with.

[Name]; now that you are in my life, I think I understand the reasons as to why people enjoy Christmas to a greater extent than I did previously, but it goes much beyond that - after being with you, and as our relationship grew into something I never anticipated it to become, many aspects of my life changed.

I found myself having you in my thoughts while carrying out missions, I noticed I became worried beyond belief if you were not caring for yourself or if you were hurt, and the way I viewed the world became less and less mechanical. Perhaps the Notarial Hall would see these new thoughts and feelings as problematic or as something that would hinder my ability to complete missions and work; but I am the most content I have ever been. Love, at your side I’ve found happiness and warmth that I did not think I had the capacity for. Words cannot adequately express my gratefulness for you - thank you.

As for Christmas specifically, the Laterano Notarial Hall offers a period of leave in order for people to celebrate Christmas with their families and those they care about. Rarely have I ever taken this leave, as a matter a fact, the only times I would pause my work were when I was very ill or hospitalized. I’ve always disregarded any Holidays and continued my work as usual because I had no reason to take time to enjoy them. This year, however, I will accept the offer. Why’s that? It’s quite simple; I wish to celebrate Christmas with you, love.

[Name], it may seem odd I am taking time away from my work - the fact I am not prioritizing my mission over all else as I typically would it is strange to me as well. For a very long time, carrying out the commissions I was given was the sole thing I cared about, but now that you are here, my mission is not of most importance to me; you are. Oripathy, Catastrophes, war, death - though I am well aware these things are able to end either of our lives unceremoniously, I do not worry about them when I have you in my thoughts, love. Maybe I am repeating myself, but I feel most at ease when I am with you, and I feel very happy whenever we are together. And so, I feel as though I need to spend this Holiday season expressing my appreciation to you.

I understand we spend much of our time together, both when working and when resting, though the Holidays seem like an occasion that is much more special; it is a time where I can spend time with you and cherish those moments without any distractions or worries.

My knowledge of Christmas traditions outside of religious and cultural ones, as well as what one does during the Holidays is limited, but that matters not. As long as I spend it with you, my time away from my work will be very well spent. I understand that I may not be the ideal person to celebrate the Holidays with, so no need to worry if you do not wish to spend the entirety of your break with me. Even if it is just minutes, I will and I do hold every moment I spend with you very close to my heart.

From what I have heard, Rhodes Island is also offering a Holiday break to its employees. I will never force you to do anything, but I hope you will accept the offer. Of course, you do not have to use your break to celebrate the Holidays if you do not wish to; in your case [name], I believe that any free days you get should be used to rest if nothing else. I tell you this very often, but rest is necessary, love. You mean very much to me, so please take care of yourself.

People give each other gifts on the Holidays as a sign of appreciation, is that correct? So it was only appropriate that I gave you something for Christmas. My research told me that jewelry or clothing are ideal gifts for your lover, but I do not agree; purchasing a store-bought gift felt empty to me. I wanted my gift to you to express my fondness toward you, and a gift from a store is simply unable to encapsulate that. Because of that, I made the decision to hand-make one. Gifts are meant to be unexpected, a surprise; but I apologize for not asking if you wanted one beforehand. I ask that you please accept it regardless.

As of writing this, I have just sent a notice to the Notarial Hall informing them that I will be away for the Holidays. When my break begins, I plan on spending most of my time with you. If you take Christmastime off as well, we should choose something to do to celebrate the Holidays; but if not, I have no problem assisting you with your work.

[Name] - this warmth, the way my heartbeat quickens and I cannot restrain my smile whenever you are with me; even now, what I feel towards you is something I have trouble understanding and putting into words. It is a feeling I can only describe as love. And as such, the best way I can express what I feel is this: I love you. Everyday from this point onward, I promise I will love you to the best of my ability.

Please look after yourself, love.

Executor

--------------------

Though you’re standing on your own two feet when you read the letter, as it comes to its conclusion your whole body feels airy and a floating sensation fills you at the sincerity in Executor’s words.

Everyone else around the both of you saw him as a coldhearted robot who lacked any emotions, but Executor was not what he seemed - or maybe you’re the only one who thought that way because he reserved his warmth for you. Regardless, you adore him in a way you can't describe; unbeknownst to him, he makes you feel the most loved you have ever felt, and for that, you silently swear to yourself that you will always be at his side.

Your eyes search around for the aforementioned gift Executor had spoken about in his letter, and your eyes fall back to your desk, where you notice something circular wrapped in white cellophane sat atop your papers. The shiny cellophane is opaque, wrapping around the gift and bunching at the top, where a red ribbon holds it together. You lift a brow; from the shape of the gift, you're unable to immediately discern what it is.

Curious, you carefully undo the ribbon and pull away the cellophane wrapping; as the gift is revealed, your eyes go slightly wide and your lips fall agape.

Sat on a thin cake board is a traditional angel food cake, with its hollow center decorated with an assortment of colorful berries. The icing sugar covering its surface reminds you of snow, and a mouthwatering sweet smell from the cake glides your way after you remove it from the cellophane wrapping.

Restorting to using a tissue from the box on your desk as a makeshift glove to avoid touching it with your bare hands, you take a small piece of the cake from off its side; you’re beyond amazed at the sweet taste, cloudy taste that fills your mouth as you eat the small bite of cake.

You recall what Executor had mentioned in his letter to you - ‘And so, I made the decision to hand make one’ - he had made the cake himself. Your eyes fill with awe, rarely did the Rhodes Island cafeteria offer sweets such as the one you had in front of you, and at the fact that Executor had taken his time to bake you something for Christmas makes your heart explode with warmth.

Just as you’re about to take another piece off of the cake, your eyes notice a tag hanging off the ribbon that was previously holding the wrapping together. Placing the oh-so-tempting cake aside for now, you focus your attention to the handwritten note that’s on the paper tag, ‘Merry Christmas, love. As someone born in Laterano, I understand the basis of baking, but I have not put said skills to practice in a very long time, nor have I ever baked something for someone else. While homemade angel food cake is not a feat deserving of a standing ovation, I hope you enjoy it. If you would like, perhaps I can teach you how to make it during the Holidays.’

His words make you pause, and a smile comes to your face. After a few moments, you put your tissue away and wrap the cake back up; it’s like they say - some things are better enjoyed with someone you love, and after reading the last line of his note, you decide you’ll wait for Executor. ‘[Name], while I understand a gift like this is not permanent or long lasting, my feelings toward you are. Even if I may not do it in the best way, even if I find it hard to understand; as long as I am able to, I will love you. That is my vow to you.’

#tysm for the exe request anon sshhshs 🥺🥺#hes my favourite so i saved him for last 👉👈 i hope i did him justice 😭#arknights #arknights imagines #arknights executor #arknights x reader #executor arknights #arknights imagine #arknights fanfic #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #christmas event #imagine #imagines #writing

54 notes · View notes

sagasofazeria · 3 years

Text

My Attempts At Making Unique Nonhumans Part 5: Dragonborn!

This is gonna be a long one my friends, so buckle up. (This is part 5 of this series, to see the others just go through the “Nonhuman series” tag on my blog!). Also, some of these changes will kind of retroactively apply to true dragons as well b/c of how this all works.

Taglist: @talesfromaurea @hellishhin

•

General:

Dragonborn!! I have changed a LOT of what goes on here. I actually changed the origin of dragonborn itself even. In my mind they’re just another in the same family as dragons, literally just humanoid dragons. The first dragonborn were much closer to their true-dragon cousins (wings and etc), but over time the dragonborn have become more and more different as evolution happens. There are some dragonborn who are more draconic than others, but those are usually small, ancient, and isolated pockets. This all also means that the lines can get blurred when it comes to dragonborn, and often with dragonborn they are either clearly similar to the common attitude of their true dragon counterpart or completely different. It depends on many factors, obviously, especially their upbringing and culture. Another thing I changed was their lifespan, because it’s such bs that the DRAGON species isn’t long lived. That’s like a whole thing with dragons, it should be reflected in dragonborn too. So, in my world, dragonborn tend to live a long time, anywhere between 250 and 600 years or so. They’re roughly on par with dwarves, if not slightly longer-lived. Another thing dragonborn have is the ability to unleash a roar that sounds like a full on dragon (like Shakari did during the battle at Dymea’s hideout). This is often used for battle cries and other similarly dramatic things. (Imagine an army of dragonborn unleashing a war cry. It’s a common tactic to instill fear in an enemy and it works pretty much every time.) Additionally, their scales, in classic dragon fashion, are like iron. Most dragonborn use their scales as natural armor because it’s easy and pretty effective. Another thing is that dragonborn have senses that rival even the elves, because that’s another iconic dragon thing that I felt that they deserve. I’ve also decided that because I personally adore tattoos, it’s very sad that dragonborn and other scaled species couldn’t have them, so I’ve invented a special “scale-paint” that allows permanent marking on dragonborn and other scaled folks. I mean, there’s always magic, of course, but scale-paint is generally easier. Last thing I added here is that very very powerful dragonborn sometimes gain the ability to shift their form, just like ancient true dragons, but it is extremely rare.

Metallic/Chromatic:

Okay, so, metallic and chromatic dragons. Honestly, in my world, the difference between the two is negligible at best. They’re just two different groups of dragons. I don’t like that one is evil and one good because that’s boring. Plus, I mean, why would a dragon, an ancient creature with vast knowledge and power, never be able to learn or change its behavior? Doesn’t make sense. Of course the distinction is even further reduced with dragonborn, to the point where gold and red are just scale colors and you can guess pretty much nothing based on that. Although, I did take away the Paralyzing breath in both the metallic true dragons and metallic dragonborn, instead just sticking to the one option. I also feel like chromatic true dragons should be able to shape-shift as well, so I did that too. Anyways, on to the colors! Gonna put it under a cut because again, this is a long one.

Red:

Red dragonborn! Most dragonborn, the closer they are to their true dragon relatives then the stronger and more numerous the traits they share with them will be. Some common things to see in reds are extra large horns, serrated claws for climbing mountains, and gray/black/brown undertones that would help blending in in the mountains. It’s also very common for their breath to smell like smoke, obviously, and for their bodies to be extremely warm. Red dragon scales are prized for giving off intense heat even years and years after death, and some red dragonborn scales have the same warmth. Red dragonborn also have the strongest scales of most dragonborn besides black, even to the point of reinforced scales in impact heavy areas (allowing for tumbles down mountains without severe harm). This helps more with true dragon hatchlings learning to fly in the mountains, but some red dragonborn inherit it as well.

Blue:

Blue dragonborn tend to vary a lot in how actually “blue” they are, seeing as how blue is quite possibly the worst color for surviving in the desert, the usual habitat of actual blue dragons, when you can’t fly (unlike true blue dragons, who it works for because they can hide in the sky). So they go from brownish muddied blue to straight up sapphire depending on how necessary camouflage was in their genetic history. Besides that, they have a few traits that, again, vary depending on how distanced they are from true dragons. Examples are scales/a horn that easily conduct electricity, a system for conserving water that runs just beneath the scales, special markings around their eyes that help them see in the sun (much like a cheetah), and a smell of ozone. Their breath/their inherent electrical charge can be used for a lot of purposes, from excavation to glass sculpture. (I like to imagine little baby blues making sandcastles and then their parents turning them to glass with their breath and saving them later.) I imagine glass art is probably common with most of the heat based dragon types, actually.

Green:

Green dragonborn, unlike most others, have to be far more careful with their breath weapon. They have venom sacs and a special organ to hold the toxin they can breathe, but it’s hard to tell the difference, especially for young greens. They’re a bit like vipers in that sense, that the babies can barely control their venom. Some common traits green dragons can have is obviously their camouflage in forested areas. Their scales often have a slight shimmering layer so that even in dappled/varied light they can remain stealthy. Green dragonborn also obviously have a super boosted immune system in order withstand poison (and not just their own). They usually are also the only dragons/dragonborn who lack horns besides occasional smaller and more antler-like ones. They also have can have a leaflike texture to their fins and frills that can help collect water (and also serve as a way to regulate a bunch of bodily functions. For example the fins would serve a similar function to sweat, among other things.), and even gills in some cases.

Black:

Black dragonborn have the strongest scales of any dragonborn besides red, as their scales are built to withstand their acidic saliva. Black dragonborn, like black dragons, are unique from other dragonborn/dragons because a lot of their bodies can be worn away or decaying before they die, because their organs just... don’t. Similarly to their saliva, their stomach acid is even more powerful. It is the most potent acid known to mortals, and black dragonborn often carry on this trait. It’s said a black dragon’s stomach acid can melt through almost anything, and because of this, acid reflux can be deadly to young dragonborn who haven't fully developed the acid-resistant coating on their throats and organs yet. Some other common traits are gills (for swampland living), and longer claws that can be used for slashing or stabbing (helps when spearing fish).

White:

White dragonborn tend to be the biggest dragonborn since they need the protection from the cold. They are still cold-blooded, like other dragonborn, but the ideal temperature is much lower for them. I also gave them horns, but not normal horns, something more akin to mammoth tusks. So white dragonborn also tend to have tusks. Additionally, white dragons have these strange quills along their spines that create a chilling sort of howl when rubbed together or a when a breeze blows through it right, and white dragonborn have these too. They’re often used by hatchlings and mothers to find each other. Another common feature is having huge and occasionally webbed feet/hands for running in snow without sinking (or swimming), like built in snowshoes. They are another type of dragonborn/dragon that also commonly has gills.

Gold:

Gold dragonborn, the shiniest of shiny. Also, funnily enough, the dragonborn with the weakest scales (which is really not very weak at all, by the way. Iron can still break on them). Of course, though, this is often used for body art. Gold dragonborn often semi-melt their scales’ outer coating with their fire, and then create all sorts embossings and patterns on themselves before it cools. Best part about this is it can be redone if they get bored (which can happen when you live 500 years). Only thing is this can further weaken the scales or cause damage if done too many times. Some other common traits are their fins, which work very similar to those of the green dragonborn.

Silver:

Silver dragonborn!! I so rarely see metallic dragonborn in my personal games, actually, but I admit silver dragons/dragonborn are my favorite. Silver dragons in my world have a triceratops-like plate/crest on their foreheads that they use to bash into one another in fights (and to break rocks), so silver dragonborn tend to have something similar on top of their heads. Another interesting part of silver dragonborn is that while they speak draconic naturally, their tongues are actually so flexible and their vocal cords so versatile that they are able to mimic most speech they hear, and learn how to pronounce almost any new languages very quickly, a benefit they gain from the habits of silver dragons to visit along mortals. They also have a much higher tolerance for thin air, and their true dragon counterparts can fly the highest into the atmosphere of any known dragon. They also have the same malleable scales as the gold dragonborn, though slightly tougher, and claws that are serrated like reds’ are.

Bronze:

So first things first, I have changed some things even with the true dragons. I have switched the habitats and breath weapons of bronze and brass dragons. Bronze dragons now live in the hills/plains and breathe fire, and Brass dragons live on the coasts and breath superheated air/steam. Besides that they are generally the same, however. Regardless, bronze dragonborn. They too have malleable scales, though they will retain their shape much better and are far stronger (as well as requiring more heat). The bronze dragonborn tend to have similar adaptations to the blue, like the eye markings. Their horns/crest are slightly different though, since they don’t need to conduct electricity. Some common features among bronze are serrated claws for rockier areas, or large feet and tail for balance on sand (which blues would likely have as well).

Brass: Brass dragons/dragonborn are a little weird but I like em. They normally breath superheated air BUT they can scoop down into water and gulp some of that and if they have excess can turn their breath weapon into steam instead through use of a special organ. Also they of course have gills and webbed claws, as well as scales that have a sort of water resistant coating that helps them glide in and out of water. They also have eye markings to help them see despite glare of sun on the water, so the brass dragonborn may inherit many of these. Brass dragonborn also have the malleable metallic scales, just less so than others because the waterproof coating makes it difficult. They also tend to have extra strong gator-like tails.

Copper:

I also changed coppers up! It felt weird to have the acid one in the desert, so I changed it up and gave the coppers lightning. Like blue dragonborn, they can have many desert adaptations alongside their conductivity in their scales, interesting thing about coppers is that they have the fins like greens, but they are used slightly differently. Mainly they’re used to feel changes in the air (when a storm is coming and etc) but they can also release heat, and can press down against their bodies to prevent damage. Coppers (and blues) are also generally good at burrowing in sand, and often you’ll see coppers leaping in and out like scaly sand dolphins.

Iron:

Ah look! It’s me, I did another thing. I may have created a whole new type of metallic dragon. Behold, the Iron Dragon. These guys live primarily underground, and are generally slightly smaller than other dragons, using their wings more like bats use theirs, flitting around cave ceilings (also they are blind and have echolocation also like bats lol). So Iron dragonborn inherit many of these, and since they live underground, often interact less with other dragonborn and surface societies, and usually retain much more of their draconic traits. Their scales are malleable as well, and possibly some of the strongest. Iron dragons/dragonborn also breathe a thick, heavy smoke, that serves both a a noxious cloud and a way to blind their enemies (since they use echolocation anyway).

Gem Dragons:

honestly? Not really sold on em yet, so there’s none in my world. Could change though, I dunno.

•

Ah this was fun. Enjoy dragonborn immensely, now they have some extra fun flavor! Yay! Feel free to leave suggestions for next week, I’m thinking probably either Kobolds or Orcs? Still not sure though.

#not story #long post #worldbuilding #wbw #(late again tho)#Nonhuman series #here be dragons #>:)#love me some dragons #how to train your dragon remains my favorite series of dragon books #possibly my favorite series of all time actually if we’re being honest #and every day i feel the urge to make a d&d setting with those kinds of dragons in it instead #maybe one day

6 notes · View notes

meridiansdominoes · 4 years

Text

So a few weeks ago @thatfunkyopossum introduced me to his Coruscant Guard OC and I absolutely fell in love with him. His name is Grease. Grease is my favorite. I adore him, HENCE I am adding an additional scene into Dominoes that includes him. He might show up a few times in later chapters too, and I’ll make sure to at least give him brief introductions when he does so that anyone who misses this won’t be confused, but this is his original introduction. ANYWAY, here, this’ll be added to chapter uhhhhh 33! The beginning is the same, but it runs right into the extra scene so here ya go!

_______________________________________________________

The mess hall is subdued when they arrive. The chatter is quiet, serious. News travels faster than a forest fire in clone barracks. Hevy grabs his tray and sits down next to Flak, whose face is twisted in distaste.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he mutters, and then jerks when Byte sets his tray down across from them, sliding into the seat.

“Is it always like that?” Hevy dares to ask.

“Not usually. There are better places to take captured criminals, it’s a rare occasion when we have to hold someone here although the brig is sizable—”

“No, not that. Those kinds of… comments, I meant,” Hevy corrects with a wince. Byte snaps his mouth shut.

“Oh,” he says. “That. Yes. It’s true, anyway. He’ll be charged for property damage. Sometimes Thire tries to press manslaughter, but it doesn’t stand legally, so…”

“What!” Hevy hisses, banging his hands on the table and surging to his feet. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Hevy, sit down!” Flak demands, grabbing his arm to pull him. Hevy takes a breath. The eyes of every clone in the mess hall are on him, so he lowers himself back to his seat. Byte is looking at him strangely.

“Don’t tell me that’s not something you’ve ever encountered,” he says, and Hevy has to take another deep breath to suppress his immediate urge to smash something.

“It—I… on the battlefield, that doesn’t matter,” he manages to get out. “It’s the front lines, it’s war. There aren’t any charges to be pressed.”

“Hm. Lucky. Sounds so much easier,” Byte says wistfully. Hevy grits his teeth.

“We’re going to fix this,” he says determinedly. Byte raises an eyebrow. He opens his mouth to comment when suddenly he catches sight of something over Hevy’s shoulder and raises a hand.

“Hey, Grease!”

A clone in standard Guard armor jumps at the sound of his name, helmet turning to find Byte. He flinches when he notices the irregular splash of 501st blue and immediately tries to head towards a different table, hands clenched tightly around his tray. Byte leaps to his feet. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that vaguely reminds Hevy of Cutup and Fives.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he mutters, and goes after him like a shot. Hevy shares a bewildered look with Flak.

“Alright then. Guess that conversation is over,” Flak says slowly, watching as Byte manages to cut the other Guard off. The new clone tries to duck away again, but his movements are hampered by the tray in his hands. He can’t stave Byte off properly. Byte is unfazed by his protests and practically frog-marches his abductee towards their table. A cheerful chirp accompanies their approach. Hevy glances down and blinks when he sees a tiny mouse droid zipping happily at their heels.

“Sit,” Byte orders the other Guard in a light tone. The newbie hesitates for a long moment.

“We don’t bite, I promise,” Flak tells him. The Guard’s shoulders slump. He sighs audibly and drops into the seat next to Byte in resignation.

“I can sense your glare, don’t give me that,” Byte tells him with a grin. “Wanna introduce yourself, kid?”

The Guard heaves another sigh. “Designation CT-3489—”

Byte elbows him in the ribs.

“M’Grease,” the Guard amends, disgruntled. Hevy offers him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Grease. You a shiny?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Byte’s expression flicker suddenly.

“He’s… not a shiny. Not exactly,” Byte says under his breath before continuing. “Grease is a good kid. Real talented with droids. A bit shy, but if you ever need someone to fix up a speeder, he’s your man.”

“The droid is yours, then?” Hevy asks him. Grease glances down, presumably at the droid by his feet. It’s under the table, so Hevy can’t see it.

“Yes ma’am,” Grease answers.

“Ma’am?” Flak nearly chokes. “Uh—”

“Eh, that’s what he calls everyone,” Byte says with a wave of his hand. “Force of habit. He’s not the only one.”

“You sure he’s not a shiny?” Hevy says jokingly. Byte chuckles.

“No, he’s just like that. Right, Grease?”

Grease takes off his helmet just in time for Hevy to catch the exasperated but vaguely fond eye roll that Grease shoots at Byte. Hevy only barely manages to stop himself from making a noise of surprise. Grease looks… oddly young. There’s a mole on his right cheek, and his face is just a little rounder than Hevy is used to seeing on brothers. He must have gotten the good genes. No wonder Byte calls him ‘kid’.

“Grease, huh? How’d you pick the name?” Hevy asks him.

Grease shrugs. “I like working with machines.” The mousedroid chirps in agreement from out of sight. Flak perks up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, Byte mentioned that. You like speeders too, right?”

Grease’s gaze settles on him, narrowing in on the oxygen box on Flak’s chest—an armor design unique to pilots. His eyebrows shoot up in realization.

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, ducking his head a little. Flak’s grin widens.

“Yeah? Maybe some time you’ll have to come look at the bird I’ve been flying. She banks a little too far to the left sometimes, and I’m tired of running recalibrations. It’s gotta be something internal, maybe something with the stabilizers, but I’m not entirely sure. I could use a hand when you aren’t busy!”

Grease nods at him mutely, coloring just a little as Byte chuckles.

“There, see? They’re not that bad,” he urges. Grease shoots him a scowl that is far more endearing than it is threatening. He opts not to respond to Byte’s comment and starts to dig into his food instead with a quiet enthusiasm that Hevy hasn’t seen since…

Huh. Strange.

Hevy hasn’t seen any clone inhale a meal like that since Kamino, when his limbs had ached from unpredictable growth spurts and his stomach had always seemed to be empty no matter how much he ate. Hevy looks at Grease’s face again and feels his blood suddenly run cold.

“Grease… how old are you?”

Byte winces. Grease pauses in-between bites just long enough to tilt his head in Hevy’s direction.

“Eight and a half, ma’am,” he manages. Hevy inhales sharply. Flak hisses out a curse.

Grease is young. Too young. He shouldn’t be out in the field yet. At that age he isn’t even finished growing completely. Byte’s casual address of ‘kid’ is literal.

“Are you kidding me?” Flak gasps. “How the kriff—”

Hevy jerks his head over to stare at Byte, seeking an explanation. Byte sighs.

“Coruscant is… safe. Supposedly. Since we’re not on the front lines and all. They started sending them younger a few months ago. We needed the manpower,” he says softly. Grease nods in agreement.

“But an entire squad was just killed,” Hevy says in horror. “That doesn’t sound very safe to me!” He tips himself back in his seat, reeling in disbelief. The movement makes his legs sprawl out, and his foot taps the mouse droid, knocking it back a few inches. It chitters at him in annoyance.

“Sorry,” Hevy tells it hurriedly. “I just… that’s so young. Forget shiny, that’s… he should still be a kriffing cadet.”

“I’m good at my job,” Grease interjects stubbornly. Hevy clenches his jaw. There’s nothing that can be done to fix this, not right now. Not yet.

“I don’t doubt that,” he replies honestly, and some of the tension in Grease’s shoulders eases away.

“Do you work as a mechanic, then?” Flak asks. Grease shakes his head.

“No, ma’am. I work in the Senate.”

“He’s part of Senator Chuchi’s personal detail. Most of the younger ones get low-risk jobs like that,” Byte says. When Grease scowls at him, Byte holds his hands up non-threateningly. “Whoa, don’t give me that look! I said low risk, not low importance!”

Flak hums.

“That would explain the ‘ma’am’,” he says in amusement. Hevy drums his fingers on the table thoughtfully.

“Senator Chuchi. I’ve heard good things about her, I think. Do you think she could help us with something important, Grease? Is she sympathetic towards us clones?”

Grease frowns at him.

“Sorry, ma’am. Not my place to say.” The declaration isn’t harsh, but it’s firm. Hevy sighs inwardly.

“That’s alright. You’re just doing your job, kid, I get it. Thanks anyway, though.”

For a moment, Grease looks surprised. Hevy sees a hesitant flash of pride cross his face before the young Guard shrugs nonchalantly and hunches in on himself again. Byte reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Alright, that’s enough forcing you to be social for now,” he announces fondly. Grease wrinkles his nose at him, but there’s also a subtle hint of gratitude in his eyes that Hevy manages to glimpse as Grease gets back to his food.

This is just one more thing that needs to be changed. Grease is eight and a half. That’s too young, no matter where you’re stationed. There are too many problems within the Guard, all out of the clone’s control. Hevy shifts anxiously in his seat and quietly hopes that he’ll be able to help with at least one of them before this is all over.

#dominoes #GREASE IS MY FAVORITE #fanfic

140 notes · View notes

wakaoujisenhime · 4 years

Note

helloooo! Could I request a BNHA fic where the reader has a quirk similar to Eri's, so during the whole mission to rescue Eri the reader feels like it's hopeless and decides to try to get Overhaul to take them instead and let Eri go? maybe the reader is in a relationship with one of the heroes who were apart of the mission?

A/N: Hii! That’s quite the interesting concept you have there! I had some trouble thinking about who your partner would be and I didn’t want to specifically choose one, sooo I decided on choosing our two top future heroes Midoriya and Mirio! But here’s another problem…I initially wanted to include more people to the story (like Aizawa, Nighteye, Fatgum trio, …) as well, but then I decided to leave it at these two (for now). If you’d like to have a story for the others as well, make sure to let me know and I’ll make a part 2 so that they can also get some love! And just another small info: (H/N) means hero name

Have fun! ( ^_^)／

Tags: Midoriya x reader ✅ Mirio x reader ✅ SFW ✅ angst (like a LOT) ✅

image/art source: Midoriya -> Pinterest (sadly the original artist’s Twitter [mtk_pear] doesn’t exists anymore)

The setting will be around the time Mirio got shot and BEFORE the Ryukyu squad fell down, but it might vary depending on the character (I’ll specify it in that case)

☞ 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Midoriya:

Alongside your boyfriend Midoriya, his teacher Aizawa and his mentor Nighteye you were running like your life depended on it. The four of you had to hurry and meet up with Mirio who went on ahead to save Eri.

Since you and Eri shared a similar quirk a lot of the Pro Heroes were against your presence during the mission, simply afraid that something might go wrong and they’d have to lose another person who was able to rewind a person’s state. Luckily you as well as your boyfriend’s classmates were successful in changing their mind.

So here you were waiting alongside the three men for the perfect time to kick down the wall and make your entrance.

“We got this (Y/N).“

Midoriya had no idea just how much that silent motivational whisper meant to you and in order to show off your appreciation to him, you took his hand and gave his scarred knuckles a soft kiss. The two of you were interrupted by the raspy cough which came from Aizawa, signalizing that you guys had to get ready.

“You ready Izuku?”

“I’m ready!”

——

You guys were not ready.

Nothing the two of you would have said or done could have prepared you for what was waiting beyond the wall, Midoriya had kicked down some minutes ago.

Mirio, the upperclassman the two of you admired so much looked like he was on the brink of death. His symbolic red cape was lying on the floor, his hero costume covered in blood and tattered while the hero himself was stabbed by some spikes around him and behind him was none other than the small Eri, cowering in fear.

Almost instinctively you ran to where the young girl was, wrapping your arms around her so that she could at least feel a little secure. Nighteye followed you, but took care of his most precious student instead, praising his will and efforts in the process. Your boyfriend on the other hand was seemingly struggling mentally because of the current situation and no matter how much support his teacher was providing him, he was constantly having slip-ups.

And one of those slip-ups had almost cost him his life, had it not been for Aizawa who pushed him away from Chronostasis, just barely saving him.

Both Nighteye and you were feeling the desperate need to jump in and help them, but the two of you had other far more important priorities right now…or at least they were supposed to be far more important to you.

The pro hero next to you would’ve never expected to be looking at your back while you were actually walking towards Overhaul.

“(H/N)! What are you doing?!”

Everybody who was close enough to hear your hero name turned to look at you, curious or afraid of what you’d do next.

“Overhaul. Take me instead.”

“What?”

You weren’t sure who else except the main villain had asked you the same thing, but you knew that you wanted to avoid looking at Midoriya at all cost. After taking a deep breath you began explaining.

“You need someone who has the power to rewind a person’s former state, right?”

The masked man who was facing you was slowly but surely counting one and one together as he seemed to understand where this conversation was headed to.

“Is that your quirk?”

Before answering his question you did that one thing you wanted to avoid the most…look at your boyfriend.

You wished you wouldn’t have, because the moment you saw him it instantly weakened your resolve.

Midoriya’s face was the pure definition of horror, it even seemed to you as if he would start crying any moment now. You were sure that he would have never supported the idea of you joining them if he had known of your plans.

“(Y/N)…what are you doing? P-Please stop.”

Hearing his low and trembling voice almost brought you to tears as well, but for his and your own sake you held back.

“(H/N)! Stop playing the hero and stand back, you’re in the way!”

Their loud voices and statements almost succeeded in making you change your mind, but your wish to save the little girl behind you and keep everybody else safe was far greater than anything these men might throw at you.

You firmly shook your head in denial and risked another glance at your boyfriend, only to see him slightly shake his head as well, whispering barely audible pleas.

Overhaul observed your behavior as well as the scene that was playing out in front of him and then chuckled lowly.

“Fine then. I’ll be taking you with me like you wanted, but if any of you…”, he pointed at the rest of your team “…decide to follow us, then I hope you won’t mind me returning your precious friend here piece by piece.”

The villain knew what he was doing was quite the gamble, but he was also aware that after the heroes had found out about Eri’s identity they would risk any- and everything in order to get her away from him. But now somebody else with a similar quirk was offering themself to him, somebody who was apparently very close to one of the heroes who were present at the moment. He would be stupid to refuse now wouldn’t he? Especially when he actually knew about you.

You see…there were some percs to his temporary teamwork alongside the League of Villains and one of them was that the first thing he was told about the future heroes was that there was one among them who possessed a similar power to Eri’s. At one point he even considered aiming for you next, but he gave up on that idea rather quick since he thought you would be kept safe somewhere in UA. But now, seeing you offering yourself to him out of your own accord or even being on the battlefield amused him to no end.

Right then and there he decided to make that bet. He would use you and your quirk in the same way he used Eri…or even worse. And to top it all of he would use the first quirk-disabling bullet he’d extract from you on none other than your precious boyfriend…Midoriya.

Mirio:

This situation could not get any worse than it already was for your classmates, your mentors and for you as well. You had just arrived at the main battlefield where Overhaul and Midoriya were fighting at. A short glance around the area was enough for you to notice that somebody was missing. Somebody who was very important to you.

“…Togata”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you just barely missed the injured pro-hero who was crouched down on his knees and had just coughed up some blood, staining his fair colored clothes.

“Sir Nighteye!”

You ran up to him, carefully supporting his injured torso so that he could at least sit up and face you.

“(Y/N)…Mirio took Eri with him. T-They left not so long ago. Follow him, p-please.”

Leaving him injured on the battlefield was the last thing you wanted right now, but you were aware nonetheless that Nighteye wasn’t sending you off just because Mirio was your boyfriend, but also because he wanted to calm his own nerves down by knowing that thanks to you he would be in good hands.

So here you were, running as fast as you could, ignoring the painful screams coming from your lungs, demanding a break, but how could you? As soon as you had left the battleground through a hole in the wall you saw an alarming amount of blood staining the white floor and forming an excellent trail for you to follow.

At your speed it didn’t take you too long to reach the destination or better said the person you were looking for.

“Togata!”

Your boyfriend visibly tensed up, but after some seconds he turned around slowly looking at you with his big and shiny eyes.

“(Y/N)!”

If he wasn’t that injured he would’ve engulfed you in a tight and loving bear hug, but this time it was on you to initiate the embrace.

As careful as you possibly could be, you wrapped your arms around his injured body immediately feeling how he relaxed thanks to your touch. Happy to see him alive and well you couldn’t help yourself and kissed his lips, relieved that he at least had enough power to return your gesture.

And that’s when you noticed the slightly scared (but more curious than anything) little girl standing next to the two of you, fiddling with her dress.

“So you must be Eri-chan. Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”

She nods and continues playing with her dress. Suddenly you feel a gentle tab on your shoulder, you glance at Mirio who was trying to tell you something, so you carefully bring his body closer to yours listening to his silent whisper.

“I…can’t use my quirk anymore (Y/N)-chan…”

That statement was something that not only caught you off guard but also gave you a slight feeling of suffocation. You knew just how much effort Mirio had put into becoming a hero and seeing him so broken and…powerless, almost brought you to tears.

“Mirio, can you still walk?“

You told him to walk as far as his feet could carry him and take Eri with him.

“What about you…?“

He had stopped you right before you started running back where you came from. After taking a deep breath in order to calm your trembling voice down you turned around smiling.

“I’m just going to report back to Sir Nighteye and inform him that you’re…alright. I’ll be back, I promise!“

You avoided looking at his face as you started running back to the battlefield.

——

Mirio slowly opened his eyes. He wanted to get up, but a nurse was there to stop him. Not soon after he had woken up the doctor was called and the hero had to undergo a short routine examination.

“You may sit up, but I’d advise you to try and avoid any…unnecessary movement.”

The doctor exited the room, leaving Mirio with his countless thoughts and questions.

What happened with Overhaul? And what happened to Eri? Is she safe?

The second he started thinking about the mission, you immediately occupied his thoughts. He had completely forgotten that you weren’t by his side. That was actually something that rarely happened. Since the first day you had been in a relationship the two of you were inseparable, he was so used to you always being next to him, that he took it for granted.

“Mirio”

Aizawa was standing by the door with a gloomy look on his face, but then again that wasn’t anything new now was it? If it wasn’t anything new, then why was he getting more worried just by watching the teacher leaning on the doorframe?

With slow and heavy steps Aizawa closed the distance between the third-year and himself. He waited for a short while before he began speaking.

“Eri is safe. Some minutes after you had passed out, Fatgum found the two of you and brought you back to safety. Your mentor - Sir Nighteye was injured, but he is going to be alright since the injury wasn’t lethal.”

Mirio was a patient young man, but as of right now all he wanted to hear from Aizawa was where you were.

“A-And…(Y/N)? What about her?”

Judging by the slight change of attitude in the man next to Mirio, something had definitely happened to you. Your boyfriend was praying that it was nothing too serious or too life threatening, but he could’ve never been prepared enough for what he was told.

Since Eri and you shared a similar quirk, you had apparently offered yourself to Overhaul in exchange for the young girl and had even successfully persuaded him to take you.

After breaking the news to Mirio, Aizawa decided that he might need some time by himself so he left the room.

The young man buried his face in his hands and silently let his his tears fall down his cheeks, thinking about you.

The fact that his quirk was gone for now, appeared less important than it did some hours ago.

Your last smile that appeared so meaningless was now engraved into his memory.

He bit his lip until it began bleeding as he faced the window next to his bed.

“Why am I calling myself ‘Lemillion’ when I can’t even save the person who’s most precious to me?”

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #midoriya x reader #mirio x reader #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

194 notes · View notes

handmadecp · 3 years

Text

Bucket Bag Build Along Pics.

The Bucket Bag. Original idea and pattern from Dieselpunkro.

Pic 1 : At last, I have some me time to put the build along pics up for the Bucket bag. Firstly, Sorry for the long wait for any one that has been wondering where I’ve been but with life as it is for everyone these days lets just say ‘LIFE’ once again got in the way. So, moving on. Credit for the Original design and the Pattern goes to ‘Tony See’ of Dieselpunkro in Spain, find them on Y/Tube. The construction and any alterations from the original design is all me. Let’s start. Here I have bought the pattern from Dieselpunkro, downloaded it and printed.

Pic 2 : I cut out each pattern and I have punched the some of the holes, Some times I do it before taping to the leather and other times I find it’s easier to tape it down and ‘then’ do the smaller ones as sometimes the smaller ones are easier to do with the patterns taped down to the leather. I’m sure you’ll find your own way, as long as you make sure you’ve punched ‘all’ holes you’ll be ok. Also’ a very important point, look on the patterns for any holes marked as ‘stitching’ holes or ‘start here’ holes and keep marking them as you go along and eventually transfer them to the leather as these are the holes where you will begin the stitching and if you don’t mark then it’s a royal pain trying to figure it out...believe me...I’ve done it a few times. So check and double check.

Pic 3 : Patterns transferred to leather , here’s one of the sections that was ready, , shaped and all holes punched, needing a liner, here I’m about to cut some material for that. This is the ‘wrong’ side of the liner material. You can see the other side further on.

Pic 4 : I wasn’t aware of it at this point but i had cut a piece wrong, this turned out to be the bottom section of the bag and somehow I’ve managed to take my eye off the ball ( due to tiredness ) and I’ve punched holes around the edge of the ‘bottom’ hence why I thought it was the top, anyway...there’s another tip, this stuff is expensive, so don’t do it when you are tired, lesson learned and as luck would have it, this will work for another project I have lined up for 2021. Anyway, you get ‘warts and all’ on here as promised. you may notice the ‘change’ as we go along and now you will know why.

Pic 5 : I use anything to hand when glueing stuff together to press them down

Pic 6 : This is the pattern transfer tor the Veg Tan Leather bottom piece, this was one of those times when I punched the holes through the pattern and the leather in one go.

Pic 7 : sometimes you will find that the punched holes are a tad too small but it’s an easy fix, just a quick once round pass using a slighty..very slightly, bigger punch, Note at the bottom an ‘x,’ this is me keeping track of the ‘Start stitch here’ hole as mentioned earlier. the white gloves, as those long time followers will already know,... but just for those who may be new to my blog,..they are to prevent my nails dragging and marking the leather.

Pic 8 : On the inside I wanted to put a liner of the ‘softer’ material that will be used for the upper section of the bag, but so that you could see the lovely bright color of the ‘wrong’ side of it as you will see. first I had to rough up the whole area as shown here, I used an actual ‘rougher’ tool seen in the picture but you can use a knife edge or anything that will get the job done, this helps the glue to bond the two sections together better.

Pic 9 : Ok, so, those keen eyed amongst you will probably be wondering, why , if he has already glued a liner onto the base, is he now gluing another piece. Well I messed up twice on the day I was tired, I did eventually stop to avoid making more, this was me the next day putting the mistakes right. I realised I hadn’t used the soft leather ‘upside-down’ for the inside color / effect. It will all come clear at the end.

Pic 10 : When I first started this blog showing my little project builds I promised to show any and all mistakes, and I do, in the hope of saving you yourself some time, money and effort if you decide to have a go yourself. But now..I’m Back on track, new pieces cut for lower section and the correct liner is on and waiting to be trimmed.

Pic 11 : Next after the larger sections comes the straps and assorted leather sections, the process is the same just on a smaller scale, no big deal, but takes a lot of patience as there are lots of holes to punch, hundreds in fact. If you have no patience, this is not the hobby for you.

Pic 12 : Straps and assorted pieces done. Time to start the build.

Pic 13 : Here I’ve taken the thin ‘skirt’ section and using a rolling stitch with a waxed thread I stitched all around one way as seen here fixing it to the veg tan base and then went all the way back to fill the gaps as shown in Pic 14.

Pic 14 : Skirting stitched on ready to go the other way to comlete the stitching.

Pic 15 : Stitching the side pieces together using a cross over stitch to give this effect on the outside. I’ve used a waxed thread in Purple.

Pic 16 : Once both sides are done it made a nice shape and was quite sturdy already.

Pic 17 : Here you can see the rivets in position for the next step and you can now see the actual ‘right’ side of the liner.

Pic 18 : Here you see the pattern placed over the project to show how it’s coming together so precisely. The patterns from Dieselpunkro are not only great value for your money but they are very precise.

Pic 19 : You can see the inside showing the rivets. once the strap sections are fitted you won’t see the outside of the rivets and once done they will add to the strength of the whole structure.

Pic 20 : All the strapping has been treated with Tan Kote straight onto the straps, left to dry and then buffed up to a shine.( though in other circumstances I would wipe it off quickly, I am aiming to darken the color as will show later. )

Pic 21 : The strapping sections all put together and placed over the rivets.

Pic 22: Then using the purple thread again and a ‘Saddle’ stitch this time I have stitched the whole piece over the rivets following the pattern holes as always.

Pic 23 : Straps, Done. and used a few buckles lying around to ‘test’ fit, they are ‘not’ fitted yet as I want antique brass not shiny brass.

Pic 24 : Next I fit the bottom section as shown, thread the two needles used for a saddle stitch with the purple waxed thread and begin to stitch it to the main body of the bag.

Pic 25 : after the bottom is stitched on you can now see what I was saying about the nice color on the ‘wrong’ side of the soft leather I glued on as a liner.

Pic 26 : Showing the bottom section finished and looking very solid as the main body becomes even more solid now.

Pic 27 : These two side secions are part of the handle / strap section. I punched a small hole in each using the pattern marks and added a Chicago screw on each as seen here. and I have added a small ‘Stay’ strap around each using a stitch or two on the back to hold them together.

Pic 28 : This pic and pic 29 show me fitting the eyelets. I used some gunsmoke blue/grey colored ones.

Pic 29 : The punch tool used to fit them.

Pic 30 : I fitted the antique brass buckles and used antique brass rivets to hold the straps permanently in place. I also fitted antique brass ‘Stays’ as seen in this pic. Note how the strap coloring is the same as the base, that was achieved by A) Using leather from the same roll and B) using the Tan Kote for the same amount of time on everything before buffing..which time wise in this case was just ..put it on and wait for it to dry completely, then buff it. It seems to have done the trick as you’ll soon see.

Pic 31 : the base is now done, time to add the upper section to it.

Pic 32 : First I attached the side pieces as shown here, I stitched them to the base using a saddle stitch and the usual Purple waxed thread a seen here, I did both sides the same way.

Pic 33 : You can see here the struggle to get to the stitch holes which could barely be seen on the inside due to the material used, but again this comes down to a lot of patience. It’s worth it at the end.

Pic 34 : You can see here that you have to start at the bottom of the strap section ( I know most of you have figured it out, but for anyone wondering..I mean the ‘pointy bit’ ). I came up with the stitch and right to the top, then I doubled that stitch back down till it met the ‘upper’ material being stitched on. Here if you look carefully I made a few passes back and forwards to give extra strength at these points, I then started along the edge joing the soft ‘upper’ section to the now solid ‘Base’ section as shown.

Pic 35 : Here you can see the upper is now stitched to the base. As I reached the far side I again had to stitch the ‘pointy’ bit, I joined onto it, went to the top as before and doubled it back down then carried it to the bottom around the point and back up the other side doing exactly the same again until I had joined back onto the upper and base sections and then carried on along the edge on the opposite side finishing off with a few back stitched, snipped it and used a lighter to melt the ends to secure it.

Pic 36 : Next I changed the main shoulder strap for my own design, I cut a normal strap a half inch wide, wet it ( ’Cased’ it ) and stamped a nice flower design on then stamped a center for each one. as seen here. I edged it all around and then used Tan Kote in the same way as before and allowed to dry rather than removing it, then buffed it to a shine, it came out the same color as the rest. Once it was complete I punched and slit the holes as shown on the patter , threaded the strap into place and connected it using the chicago screws pushed through the punched/slit holes.

Pic 37 : I used leather off the same roll to cut a thin ‘tie’ piece for the ‘Pull-Tie’. I treated it the same way with the Tan Kote and achieved the same color again bringing together the whole look.

Pic 38 : A view of the inside of the Bucket bag. You can see now that re-doing the bottom was worth it as it now matches the top inside section. You can see the Pull tie threaded through the eyelets. One thing I almost forgot, see the top edge, I rolled it over and saddle stitched it all around to give a much tougher top edge.

Pic 39 : The finished bag, the only other things I did were to make the small leather piece that holds the pull tie pieces together as seen here, no big deal.

Pic 40 : And I cut the leather pull through into two pieces once threaded and once passed through the small leather ‘stay’ piece I knotted the ends and as you can see here..You now pull each side closed seperately, making for an easier closure.

Pic 41 : done.

And Voila, One Christmas Present Finished. That’s it guys, this was the last Project I did in 2020. I’m looking forward to starting new projects soon but I have a few things around the house to sort out first. I will probably get back to it around about mid February. Thank you to all those of you who have waited a long time to see this and didn’t unfollow me, I appreciate it, sometimes life just gets in the way as I’m sure you all know. I hope you will go check out Dieselpunkro you might be inspired if I haven’t quite inspired you enough hahaha. See you all again soon with another project and good luck with your own. Until then, stay safe and as always, ‘Stay crafty’.

#Bags #leather #leathercraft #shoulderbags #gifts #bucketbag #crafts and hobbies #unusual

8 notes · View notes

afy2018 · 3 years

Text

Going Through Changes Ch. 1

[Aug. 24th, 2020]

It was very early, that Monday morning, when Sara woke up. The curtain, being partially closed, revealed the sun’s strong rays. She glanced over to her roommate, Samantha Santos, who was still sound asleep. Sara slid out of her bed and quietly got changed, taking a moment to turn off her alarm so it would not go off. She grabbed her bag and books before swiping her wallet, keys, and phone. It was almost completely quiet in the dorms. She could hear some muffled conversations as she made her way down the hall. There was a student in the lobby, working as a campus officer and another working the desk.

Sara waved and continued to the cafeteria. The campus had a few students walking around, but most were either already in class or just getting ready for another early morning class. Even the breeze was calm and tired, barely grazing through the trees. The building’s lights were still on like stars to pave the way through the university. Sara gazed at the stars that still lightly speckled the sky. She tried to find the familiar constellations before they disappeared into the daylight.

Sara made her way into the cafeteria where there were only five other students getting breakfast as they waited for their day to begin. Sara walked in line to buy a breakfast burrito and a bottle of orange juice.

She peeled back the thin shiny wrapper and made her way to her classroom. There were more students walking around as she made her way through the campus and to the F Building. The professor’s offices were mostly dark with only one person in their room - that Sara could see. She made her way to her classroom. Still fifteen minutes ahead, Sara walked into the almost empty classroom. Her Professor stood at the podium-desk next to his notes and a pile of syllabi, just waiting to start the new semester. Professor Wright was a portly old man with a bulbous nose that hooked at the end. His dark eyes were full of life as he waited for the lecture hall to fill up and the hour to pass over.

Sara sat in the middle of the hall as the seats around her quickly filled up. She was surprised to see the number of women in the class. From what she could see, there was about one girl for every three boys in there with her. The moment the thin black minute hand on the clock at the back of the classroom ticked over the twelve, Professor Wright sprung to life.

“Good morning class. Welcome back.” He called out to his students. “I would like to start with those on the waitlist. Raise your hands so I can see… who or how many I need to add,” He quickly corrected, counting the seven students on the waitlist. “Okay. After class come up and I’ll email you the add code. Now,” He sighed, grabbing a stack of papers, “time for my favorite part, the syllabus.” He handed it to a blonde boy up in the front of the row and walked back to his desk. “Now, I have a PDF on canvas if there aren’t enough to go around. The important dates and my office hours are on the front. My rules of the classroom are on the second page, my recommended resources- all free- are listed in the very back. In the middle, you will find the description for your Final, your Midterm, and your three research papers. There isn’t any homework for this class. Show up to the lectures and you will pass. I take attendance once that hand reaches 8:00. If you are late to class because of reasons you cannot control, call, text, and email in that order with evidence Like hospital wrist band, pictures of your car troubles, et cetera. Any questions?”

A few students began to ask questions. Someone asked about the way he wanted the assignments turned in, another asked about the late policy. As important as these questions and answers were, Sara felt like something was off. She glanced around the slanted beige room and found a pair of dark chocolate eyes watching her. Her father had always taught her to be vigilant to any threat, especially on campus, but as she glanced at the person staring at her, she just nodded in their direction, feeling no malice, just curiosity from them.

There was a young woman with dark brown hair pulled back in a tight bun. She had tan golden skin that was mostly covered with by a dark green sweatshirt that said “CCRI Knights”; the rest was too small for Sara to read. The woman quickly glanced at another student in the room with her, twirling her pencil around her fingers.

Sara tore her gaze away from her and focused back on her professor. Wright was talking about his thoughts on social media for some reason, making Sara wish she’d learned the context to this rant. By studying how he spoke, Sara could tell that this guy was a rambler as the reviews on Rate My Professor had warned, but he was the highest rated professor for this class, so she decided that she’d just have to sit through it. Of all types of professors to have, “The Rambler” was not the worst kind at all.

Lost in her thoughts, Sara missed whatever Professor Wright had said to end the class. She quickly gathered her belongings and headed to the cafeteria. On her way there, she passed by the art wing. There was a glinting and sparkling piece that caught her eye from one of the hallways. She followed the way down, taking a quick moment to explore the small art garden.

There was a large glittering glass mosaic wall. It was a beautiful piece reflecting the native flora and fauna of New Jersey. There was a deer and a fox by the river with a fish hopping out. The colors were beautiful, with iridescent glass on the birds and trees, bronze for the deer, and a fiery amber for the fox.

Sara glanced at her phone to check the time, she still had an hour and forty minutes until her next class, great to get food from Jeepers. She headed back out of the art garden and to the casual restaurant. Sara had been there before because it came with her meal plan. Jeepers was a fun place with a lot of seating for the students. She kind of wondered how busy it was going to be.

Walking into Jeepers, Sara spotted a familiar face by the windows on the barstool. It was that girl in the forest green sweater. Even though her back was turned to her, Sara could still tell it was her. She decided to grab a bite before the lines got too long and sit next to her. They could swap numbers just in case either of them missed a class.

Sara walked in line and ordered an Asian chicken wrap, grabbed a bag of original Skinny Pop, a banana, and a bottle of water. She waited behind a string bean guy who could not have been any taller than Sara herself. He had a slight frame with messy brown hair. When he turned to look back at Sara, she first noticed his thick sharp brown eyebrows, then his wide and inviting smile.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

The young man shrugged and grabbed his food. “Pretty good. I just got out of my first college class.” He finished with an excited smile.

Sara couldn’t help but smile back. “So this is your first year?” She asked paying for her meal.

“Yeah! I’m Barry, Barry Allen.” He introduced, quickly reaching over to shake her hand.

“Hey, Barry, I’m Sara Lance.” She smiled. “I’m a Junior here.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” She answered, taking her food and thanking the cashier. “Did you get the turkey club?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason.” She shrugged, “Bye Barry.”

“Wait, why?” He asked again.

Sara chuckled to herself, just pulling his leg. She walked to the window where her classmate was sitting and took the spot to her left. The girl looked at Sara, tearing her focus away from the textbook in front of her.

“Hey, you’re in my Ethics class right?” Sara inquired.

“Yeah, I’m Nyssa.” She greeted, closing her book.

“Sara, without an H.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“So Criminal Justice major, too?”

“Yeah. I’m here for my masters before I join the UN Security Force.”

“Same here, but I want to join the CIA or the FBI. What’s the UN Security Force?”

“The part I want to join in is the Blue Berets, it’s their armed forces. They’re also known as the Peacekeepers. They help protect people like the victims of African raiders and ISIS.”

“Wow.”

“What about you?”

“I want to become an agent. Hey, do you want to swap numbers, you know just in case one of us misses class?”

“Oh, yeah, sounds good to me.”

Sara reached into her backpack and pulled out a pencil and pad of sticky notes. She quickly jotted down her phone number, email, and name before peeling it off and handing it to Nyssa.

“So what’s CCRI?” She asked while entering the number into her phone.

“Community College of Rhode Island.”

“Oh wow, that’s a long ways away.”

“Yeah, but I really wanted to get out of there,” Nyssa sighed. “What about you. Where are you from?”

“New York.”

“Wow, I’ve always wanted to go there! What’s it like?”

“I mean, it’s a mix. One moment you’re in the city and the next you’re in the suburban hills, then you’re in another state. What about Rhode Island, I’ve never been there.”

“I mean, really it’s a tiny state that it mostly a bay then another state almost right away.” She joked, glancing at the clock on her phone. “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you around, Sara.”

“See you, Nyssa.” Sara smiled, not partaking in her meal as Nyssa walked away.

As Nyssa walked away, Sara’s phone went off in her pocket. A text lit up from her phone with the message “Hey Sara, it’s Nyssa.”

Sara texted back, “Hey, dude”, before adding her into her contacts as, ‘Nyssa (The Cute Girl)’. She glanced at her phone and continued to eat her lunch.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was her third and final class of the day and Sara was actually kind of glad. She walked to the building and went down the hallway to her last class. She was glad to have ceramics between her major classes because it was a nice break. Sara walked into the classroom and sat down in the middle with a few other students. She set up her belongings, getting ready to write down her schedule and organized her planner, highlighting the two syllabi she placed on her desk. Someone tapped on her shoulder, making Sara glance up at them. It was Nyssa again. Sara quickly moved her backpack out of the chair next to her and smiled up at her.

“You stalking me, Nyssa?” She joked.

“I mean you saved me a spot.” She taunted back. “Were you expecting me?”

Sara chuckled and went back to fixing her planner as their teacher spoke to a few students. She glanced at her phone, two minutes before class, and their professor had already begun to hand out the syllabus and a few other papers. Once they made their round to Sara and Nyssa, it seemed that the extra papers were meant to introduce the students to their teacher. It was a Getting-to-Know-You page off of the internet. Sara filled out the survey and re-read her answers again.

“Alright, I want you to go to seven people and learn their name and one thing off of that paper.” He proclaimed, sitting back in his chair.

Sara turned to Nyssa and asked, “What was your first pet’s name?”

“Levi, he was a frog. What about you?”

“I had a Canary named Tweedie.”

“Like Tweety bird?”

“Yeah.” Sara chuckled writing Nyssa’s answer by the question.

She then went to a six other classmates of hers, learning that a boy named Nicola was born in Montana, a girl named Denise is a Pisces, another boy named James wanted to be a farmer growing up, Rachel has four siblings, Evan would want to rename himself, Charles, and Alex played bass in a Math-Rock band. It was fun, much more fun than Sara thought it would be. She was glad that she could keep the paper, it was interesting to learn more about her peers. As their class ended, they packed their belongings and began out the door.

“Hey, Nyssa, you wanna get something to eat at the cafeteria?” Sara asked, trying to catch up with her.

“Oh, yeah.”

“So, judging by your community college, I’m guessing that you’re not a local.” Sara wondered on their way.

“Yeah, I’m staying in University Court.”

“Really? Me, too. I’m in building 8.”

“Building 2.”

“So, what are you getting?”

“I haven’t tried their pasta choices yet.” Nyssa shrugged.

“Might I recommend the manicotti? It’s stuffed with ricotta and Italian sausage. It’s really filling.”

“How much do you get?” Nyssa asked pulling out her wallet.

“Like,” Sara began trying to size it up with her hands, “this big, and you get two.”

“Wow… I mean I’ve never had the manicotti?”

“Yeah, and they’re really good. Especially the ones they make here.”

“I think I’ll get it then. What about you?”

Sara glanced at the menu and shrugged. “I’m gonna get a burrito, or… nah, I’ll just stick with a Ceasar salad. After this, we should head back to the dorms.”

“Oh, why?”

“They close at 8:30.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s in, like, fifteen minutes.” Nyssa nodded before going up to order.

“So,” Sara began, unfolding a paper in her pocket, “while our food’s getting ready. ‘What is your favorite holiday?’”

“The questionnaire?”

“Yup.”

“Halloween. You?”

“Christmas.”

“Wasn’t one of the questions, like, what’s your least favorite holiday?”

“Yeah, mine’s Christmas again.”

“Why?”

Because my birthday’s Christmas day and it’s kind of annoying to constantly be compared to Jesus by religious friends, the antichrist by regular friends, and a Christmas miracle by distant family.”

“I bet you only got Christmas presents, too. Not much of a birthday celebration?”

“Yeah. No parties either because everyone traveled for the holidays.”

“So,” Nyssa asked glancing at the paper. “You can hotwire a car?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you learn that?”

“From some friends in high school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What’s a weird fact about you?”

“Well, it’s not really weird more as it’s just a fact about me.”

“Anything will do.”

“Well, I did jujitsu until high school.”

“Really? Why’d you stop?” Sara asked grabbing their food.

“I started wrestling. It became too much to play a sport and do another one outside of school. Did you play any sports in high school?”

“No, but I did use to fight. It helped that had learned some basic skills from my dad.”

“Wait, like fist fighting?”

“Yeah, I’d fight for money.”

“Wow, were you good?”

“My stats were pretty good. I could beat most people, but I wasn’t great, just had a lot of stamina.”

“I did not expect that from you, you look like… well like…”

“A princess? Yeah, just to the public, but in private I’m not so nice and proper.” She joked.

“Are you a secret queen of underground fighting rings?”

“Depends, are you gonna 21 Jump Street me?”

Nyssa rolled her eyes and took a bite of the manicotti. “Oh wow, that’s pretty damn good!”

“I know right?” Sara chuckled looking at the paper again. “So, we did one weird fact, siblings?”

“I have an older sister, Talia, and a younger brother, Saracon.” She told her, rounding the corner to University Court.

“I have an older sister, too, Laurel.”

“So what’s she up to?”

“She’s a lawyer. Right now she’s working for a small company. Last time she texted me, she said that she was getting ready for her first case defending a divorce settlement.”

“Wow, my sister works for my Dad’s business and my brother’s kind of AWOL, well to my dad and Talia, that is. My turn.” Nyssa said changing the subject to look at the paper. “If you could rename yourself what would it be?”

“Sara with an H.”

“So people don’t-”

“Don’t get my name wrong, yeah. What about you?”

“Amaal, I don’t know I just wrote down a random name.”

“Why Amaal first?”

“It’s a common name in my community.” She shrugged as they came upon the dorms. “Well, this is my stop.”

“Mine, too.”

“See you on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, I’m not planning on dropping any classes, so.”

“Alright, night, Sara without an H.”

“Night, Amaal,” Sara smirked, going to her dorm.

She went into the dorm and began to room 124. She took out her card key and placed it against the sensor, waiting for the beep, the green light, and the sound of the lock clicking out of place. She walked into the low lit room to see her roommate and “Big Sister” Sam Santos on her bed with her blankets pulled up her legs, her laptop slapped onto her stomach as she typed something onto the keyboard. Her hood was pulled over her head. She glanced around her device at Sara and gave her a large smile and closed the lid. Sam sat up and took a swig from her hydro flask.

“How was the first day?”

“Good. I met a new student who’s in my first and last class.”

“Cool.”

“What about you?”

“Very easy, so far.” She smirked brandishing her laptop.

“When’s your next class?”

“Well I have an online lecture at 9 and then an art class at noon, and finally my history classes back to back from 2 to 6.”

“I have the same schedule.”

“I don’t know how you do the early bird-night owl schedule.” Sam huffed.

“I enjoy it. Hey, when’s our first meeting?”

“It’s Sunday at noon. We have to sign up for shifts for Club Day.”

“Don’t we also have to elect a new leader?”

“Oh yeah, well, in the Spring.”

“Ally texted me that she wanted to start early.” Sara inquired, looking at her phone. “Dina said that they were talking about it… anyway, I don’t know though.”

“They’ll decide soon enough.” Sam sighed looking down at her laptop and opened it up again. “Oh, so about your new friend, what’s she like?”

“She’s nice and weirdly serious and laid back at the same time.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

“I don’t know about that. She’s a criminal justice major like myself,” Sara shrugged pulling on her pajamas, “she seems kind of nerdy though.”

“Sounds like a good girl,” Sam noted peeking up from her laptop.

Sara paused halfway pulling her shirt on. “It’s not like that.”

“Okay, okay, that’s not what you said about Riley Appletree.”

“First of all, it’s Riley Oglesbee. Second, he wasn’t too bad.”

“He was one of the messiest people I had ever met.”

“I liked him, he was really nice.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah… we went out to sushi a lot.” Sara shrugged.

“You liked him because he took you out for food and bought you stuff.”

“Yup.” She huffed sliding onto her bed.

“Honestly, I don’t blame you… but I do judge you.” Sam chuckled opening up a bag of kettle corn Popchips.

“You know I can’t let just you eat those.”

“I know.” She nodded scooting over for Sara.

#Nyssara #Arrow #Arrowverse #Nyssa al Ghul #sara lance #lgbt #fanfic #femslash #wlw #sfw fanfic

9 notes · View notes

cursebreaker-lilith · 4 years

Photo

I only posted her original profile in September, but I’ve changed some stuff and wanted to do a new drawing. Lili was pretty new to me then, and I’ve found her voice a lot more since so it only felt right to have a do over on her profile.

This is all up to the beginning of year 6.

EDIT: Some formatting changes made 5-12-21

BASICS

Name: Lilith Silvia Vesta Brooks

Nicknames: Lili, Pipsqueak, Pip

Name Meaning: Lilith references a figure from Jewish folklore, Silvia comes from her grandmother’s name and references a figure from Roman mythology, Vesta was also chosen by her grandmother and references the Roman goddess of the hearth.

Gender: Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 16 (Variable depending on what year I’m writing about)

Birthday: October 19th, 1972

Zodiac: Libra

Blood Status: Half-blood

Ethnicity/Nationality: White Brit

Sexuality: Self identifies primarily with queer but is okay with being called bisexual. Is also probably on both the asexual and aromantic spectrum, but the words for them hadn’t been coined in her time period.

Appearance

Body:

Height: 165cm / 5′5

Build: Average to stocky, hourglass shape

Eyes: A bright yellow-green, noticeably a bit big and round.

Hair: Pale blonde hair that is very thin and fine. She likes doing it up in different ways, from ponytails, to pigtails, to braids. Right before starting her 6th year, she cut her hair short and permed it on an impulse encouraged by her Muggle friends.

Skin: Pale skin that burns easily but quickly fades into a tan

Misc: Small and usually unnoticeable scars scattered across her hands and face from ice in the Ice Vault that will fade wholly with time (most already have by 6th year). Pierced ears--one in each lobe as a teenager but adds more as an adult.

Material Items:

Clothing: As a young child, she tried to keep up with mainstream Muggle fashion. She preferred lots of bright colors, stripes, gaudy jewelry, and scrunchies. Dear lord she loves scrunchies. As she got older however, she began to phase out of the bright colors and mainstream fashion into something which would soon be called grunge. Not completely grunge however as she still loves her statement earrings and scrunchies. Usually wears baggy/non form fitting clothing.

Accessories: Almost always wearing some sort of dangly and obnoxious statement earrings. Always has at least three scrunchies on her person.

In her school bag: Her wand, at least five scrunchies, school books and papers, books Rowan wants her to read, an old crochet penguin for good luck (her first attempt at crochet animals), crochet hooks and yarn, journal and papers related to Cursed Vault plans, at least three cool looking rocks she found on the ground.

Reference:

Face Claim: N/A

Voice Claim: N/A

Personality

Traits:

+ loyal, friendly, extroverted, responsible, mature, kind, adaptable, quick learner, resourceful, hopeful, courageous

+/— determined, good liar, intense, clever, intelligent, independent

— obsessive, untrusting, secretive, forceful, quick temper, angry, abrasive, single minded, rule breaker, rude, spiteful

Description:

Lili has a lot of pent up anger and a quick temper. She’s angry at her family, at authority, at the world. She’s not good at processing this anger and thus tends to lash out at people very often and often very cruelly and violently. She knows this and tries to keep in check but isn’t very good at doing so even as she ages. Because of her anger, she also tends to keep grudges for quite a while, even for stupid or petty reasons and is slow to admit she’s wrong.

In a better world, she would be known for her friendliness. Lili can be very friendly and relaxed. She talks first and makes a judgement second, trying to be as open minded as possible. She’s very casual yet polite and likes people being the same back to her.

Lili is determined in a way that tends towards the negative. Her laser focus on things tend to quickly become obsessions if someone she trusts doesn’t intervene quickly enough.

After her mother stopped being a parent towards her at a young age, Lili learned to take care of herself quickly. She’s become clever and resourceful in her steps to becoming independent. It’s left her mature and responsible for her age, but also untrusting and secretive, convinced she can do it on her own (or with Rowan only).

Lili is very loyal to those that earn her loyalty. For those she cares about, she would do anything. If you do something to lose that loyalty, expect harsh treatment after if Lili even deigns to speak to you. She’s not afraid of cutting people out of her life if they betray or anger her.

Other:

Likes: crafts (crochet, knitting, sewing), Rowan and Barnaby, scrunchies, dangly earrings, being busy, collecting things, fashion

Dislikes: Merula and Ismelda, Rakepick, Snape, most other Slytherins, people who get in her way, Dumbledore, Doctor Who after the 5th Doctor, not getting enough sleep, flying class

MBTI: ESTP

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Hogwarts

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

OWL Classes:

Astronomy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Flying: 2/10 (A)

Herbology: 3/10 (A)

History of Magic: 2/10 (A)

Potions: 4/10 (A)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

OWL Electives:

Ancient Runes: 9/10 (O)

Arithmancy: 6/10 (O)

Care of Magical Creatures: 6/10 (O)

NEWT Classes:

Ancient Runes: 9/10 (O)

Arithmancy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

Extracurriculars:

Clubs: Dueling Club (3rd-4th year), Fencing Club (2nd-5th year), Transfiguration Club (occasionally from 2nd year on)

Quidditch: N/A

Prefect or Head Boy/Girl: N/A

Best Classes:

Charms It’s the one class she’s very naturally talented at. She never needs to study much, but she barely has to try with Charms. Someday she’ll beat Ben and be the best in their year at the class.

Defense Against the Dark Arts She’s not good at this because of any professor, she’s good at this because of her excursions into the Cursed Vaults giving her practical knowledge.

Worst Classes:

Flying Listen, if people were meant to fly, then they’d have wings, or a spell letting people properly fly would be created by now. Lili will be staying on the ground, thank you very much.

Herbology She’s lived in the city her whole life and being around so many plants is strange. She doesn’t hate the class, but she does use it to catch up with her friends rather than study.

Potions She doesn’t have the patience for potions, and that’s even when she doesn’t have Snape refusing to acknowledge her existence.

Favorite Professors:

Flitwick She thinks Flitwick is great. There’s not much more to say. He’s responsible but not smothering, and still thinks well of her brother. If she ever had to pick an adult to trust, it would be Flitwick.

Kettleburn She had taken Care of Magical Creatures because Rowan had wanted a third elective and Lili didn’t want to take Muggle Studies or Divination. However, she ended up loving the class and thinks Kettleburn is hilarious. She honestly wished she could take the class NEWT level, but her schedule was already full.

Least Favorite Professors:

Snape She has a very complicated relationship with Snape. He hates her because of her brother (who he did not get along with), because she reminds him of James Potter, and because her nickname, Lili, reminds him of his lost love Lily Evans every time he hears it. Lili, of course, does not know any of this and thinks he just hates her for no reason. Jacob thought he was a Death Eater (he got that from whispers older kids who Jacob knew were definitely Death Eaters), so Lili uses that as justification to not like him.

Rakepick She never trusted her and barely liked her, even before she became a professor. Her opinion didn’t go improve any time in fifth year.

Magic

1st Wand: Blackthorn, unicorn hair, 11 3/4 in, shiny and slightly flexible

“Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban.”

2nd Wand: Aspen, phoenix feather, 12 in, fairly rigid

“In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.”

Special Abilities: Natural Legilimens, Occlumency

Boggart

Form: Jacob telling her she’s useless and unwanted and that everything she’s doing is for nothing.

Riddikulus: Has not found anything yet that works

Amortentia

What they smell: the Owlery, Standard Ingredient, and something else, something she can’t figure out

What they smell like to others: Lavender, hot chocolate, campfire smoke

Patronus

Form: A goshawk. Independent and intelligent hunters who focus intently on stalking their prey.

Memory: A childhood memory of going to a fair. Jacob looked after her the entire night, and it’s one of the last times she remembers seeing both of her parents laugh.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Herself with her family–Jacob is there and looks like how she remembers him, and her mother and father are holding hands and smiling. As she ages, her mother and father are phased out of the image and replaced by her friends, her new family.

FAMILY

Father: David Brooks

Muggle

b. 1943

Works at an accounting firm.

In theory, he was alright with magic and the wizarding world. In practice, it unnerved him more than he could say. When his children started doing accidental magic, and when Jacob came home from Hogwarts talking about nothing but spells and magic, that was it for David. He filed for divorce in 1980 and hasn’t spoken to his ex-wife or children since. He has since married to a fellow Muggle, treating her children as his own and speaking rarely of his biological children. He doesn’t even know Jacob disappeared.

Mother: Carina Flora Brooks (nee Braddock)

Pureblood

b. 1944

Ravenclaw

Works for a wizarding travel magazine as a photographer, travels around the world frequently

She was perhaps not meant to be a mother, and would have been happier following in her brother’s shoes of travelling the world with no responsibilities. However, her mother was insisting she marry and Carina, in a fit of rebellion, decided to marry a nice Muggle she knew instead of the purebloods her mother had picked out.

Carina was never very good with either of her children, and in particular could never get along with Jacob, resorting to abuse (emotional and physical) to try to get him to behave how she wanted. Despite this, she totally shut down when Jacob disappeared, feeling like a failure. This led to her severely neglecting her daughter to wallow in her own misery day and night. It also led to an irrational hatred of Hogwarts. She refuses to read any letters sent by them and has made several subtle attempts to make Lili miss the Hogwarts Express.

Brother: Jacob Seraphinus Ulysses Brooks

Half-blood

b. March 8th, 1967

Slytherin

Currently missing.

Never able to make friends easily or keep his mouth shut, Jacob always had a hard time fitting in, so he turned to books. He preferred fiction over nonfiction, but one history book’s mention of Cursed Vaults on Hogwarts’ grounds led to a search that would dominate his, and his sister’s, life.

He was an outcast in his house and Hogwarts, besides for a few acquaintances, and instead focused on reaching his goals. He was reckless and brave (the Sorting Hat considered putting him in Gryffindor), but obsessive, secretive, and increasingly dependent on the idea of “the end justifies the means.”

Grandfather: Ambrose Braddock

Pureblood

b. 1903

Ravenclaw

Deceased

Known for being Britain’s first natural Legilimens in a century. The Braddock family is known for being a line of natural Legilimens, but none in the family had had the ability in five generations before Ambrose was born. This ended up leading to an offer of marriage from the Malfoy family who wanted the connection to this rare ability. Later realized his grandson was also a natural Legilimens, but died before he could teach Jacob more than the basics on how to control it and never realized his granddaughter also had the ability.

Died of sickness in 1975 at age 72

Grandmother: Silvia Braddock (nee Malfoy)

Pureblood

b. 1911

Slytherin

Never worked, has always been a housewife

Your typical upper class, conservative grandmother. She may not believe that strongly in pureblood mania anymore, but she still believes in things like “children should be seen, not heard,” and corporal punishment. Was in an arranged marriage to Ambrose and never really grew to love him feeling she was marrying beneath her Malfoy heritage. Fairly reclusive nowadays, only entertaining old friends for brunch and going to the occasional pureblood party.

Uncle: Victor Felinus Braddock

Pureblood wizard

b. 1940

Gryffindor

Has a different job every few months, deosn’t really needs to have one and his work ethic shows that

Considered a fun uncle by his nephew, and an annoyance by his niece. Has a lot of stories, and a slight drinking problem. While his mother was annoyed at him for having a dalliance with a Muggle-born, she was even more furious that he refused to marry Suzie. Victor didn’t want to be tied down, and left her to raise their two daughters only appearing in their lives every few years.

Cousins: Donna and Caroline Jones

Half-bloods

b. 1960 and 1975

Both Gryffindor

Welsh

Their mother Susan Jones was a Muggle-born Sorted into Gryffindor in the same year as Victor Braddock. The two have had an on again, off again relationship since their Hogwarts years that has resulted in two daughters.

Donna was sorted into Gryffindor in 1971 (meaning she would have been roommates with Lily Evans which is a coincidence I swear) and it’s easy to see why. She’s confident, brash, and blunt. She has many problems with her father and refuses to interact with that side of the family. Works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry.

Caroline is the opposite of her much older sister and was surprised to find herself in Gryffindor (Sorted there in Lili’s 3rd year). She’s timid and quiet, but with a backbone hidden underneath. She wilts at any negative tones, but is always ready to extend a hand to anyone who has hurt her, even multiple times.

Step family: Sabina Brooks, Ioan and Luca Ciobanu

Muggles

b. 1949, 1975, and 1980

Immigrants from Romania to England

After divorcing Carina, David began dating Sabina shortly after and later married her, acting as a father to her two young children. The four of them live together in London.

Pets:

Alfred An easily frightened black cat that once belonged to Jacob

Doctor Hoot A large barred owl that frequently forgets it’s an owl and not a lapdog

FRIENDS

Best Friends:

Rowan Khanna Her best friend!! She originally befriended Rowan because Rowan reminded her of her muggle friend, but it soon blossomed into a different, much closer relationship. Whenever Rowan is gone, Lili doesn’t really know what to do (”I’m going to cut all the sleeves off my robes.” “Why??” “Rowan left an hour ago and she’s like 85% of my impulse control.”) and Lili would never have made it through any of the Cursed Vaults without her. She probably also would have gotten expelled for brawling and dueling in like second year without Rowan. I’m not joking about that impulse control thing.

Barnaby Lee Lili didn’t like Barnaby at first. Even before he worked for Merula, she thought he was nothing more than a stupid jock and made fun of how Snape would pick on him in Potions. Then she actually talked to him and did a complete 180. “I’ve only known Barnaby for an hour, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and them myself.” She liked how sweet and genuine he was despite his awful upbringing. He’s always there to support her, and she’s really grown to love him for that. He once thought he had a crush on her, but it wasn’t really romantic (”The feeling was friendship but he had never experienced it before.”).

Good Friends:

Bill Weasley He’s like the big brother Jacob should’ve been. She was not thrilled to have a complete stranger helping with the Vaults, but in hindsight she’s so very glad she listened to Rowan. Lili isn’t sure she could have gotten half of what she’s done done without Bill’s help and steadfastness.

Charlie Weasley Their friendship kind of crept up on Lili. Charlie was closer friends with Ben and Barnaby, so while Lili had a passing familiarity with him before the Forest Vault, she wouldn’t have called them friends. She was surprised when she turned out to really enjoy his company when he started helping with the Cursed Vaults.

Chiara Lobosca Chiara was someone Lili tangentially knew due to people confusing them for each other (the hair color; once Chiara hits a growth spurt and Lili doesn’t people stop). Then Lili is forced to partner with Chiara in Herbology in 3rd year, and besides seeing her Herbology grade go up the slightest bit, she finds a friend in Chiara, appreciating the girl’s seemingly infinite kindness.

Friends:

Nymphadora Tonks They get along in classes, but Lili doesn’t trust Tonks with anything serious.

Liz Tuttle The two have many overlapping friends but don’t really hang out with each other.

Badeea Ali She really respects Badeea, but they just don’t have many reasons to be around each other.

Jae Kim Lili thinks he’s hilarious and very smart, but doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

It’s Complicated:

Ben Copper Probably the most complicated relationship here. She befriended him out of pity and continued their friendship because of his skill at Charms. He’s had a crush on her since they were 11 when she stood up for him which no one had ever done before. Then the Red Robed Wizard Reveal tm happened and Lili dropped him and ignored him, though he tried to make it up to her. 6th year only drives a deeper wedge between them as Lili can’t stand his recent behaviour. Ben finally confessing about his love for Lili in 6th year didn’t help mend anything either.

Tulip Karasu After finding out that Tulip had purposefully not told her about Jacob’s room, Lili instantly decided she was an undesirable but necessary ally. Lili does not like Tulip for most of their time at Hogwarts as she’s really pissed that someone would keep her brother’s things from her. Lili will talk to her about the Cursed Vaults, but they do not hang out and Lili does not consider her a friend. This really, really hurts Tulip’s feelings but Lili doesn’t really care. The relationship does get a bit better in 6th year, but it’s never going to be a close one. In a better world without the Vaults, they’d probably get along smashingly as while Lili isn’t a prankster, she has no problem egging them on.

Love Interests:

Penny Haywood Her first, longest, and most confusing crush. She was wary of Penny at first. Popular girls were rarely that 100% nice, but Penny truly was. She also had a nice smile and pretty hair and soft hands…. It took Lili quite a while (like four years and Bill telling her) to figure out it was a crush and then….she did absolutely nothing. She panicked and stopped talking to Penny for a while before sheepishly apologizing when Penny confronted her. They went to the Celestial Ball together, but “as friends.” That did not stop them from having a Moment that Lili interpreted completely wrongly and she assumed Penny didn’t like her romantically. Penny in fact did, and since Lili never reacted to their Moment in the proper way, Penny assumed that Lili wasn’t interested. The two continued having crushes on each other for the rest of their time at Hogwarts and remained close friends after they both graduated.

Talbott Winger Her second, less confusing, crush. Similar to Barnaby, Lili didn’t think much of Talbott at first. He was that one kid who was talented at Transfiguration and she once saw him chatting casually to an owl in the Owlery. He was weird and she ignored him. Then she was paired with him on a class assignment in 3rd year and a friendship bloomed despite Talbott’s protests. It was a casual thing at first, but then Lili helped Talbott find his mom’s necklace, and their talk under the stars about family and the past and future deepened their friendship. Having already figured out she had a crush on Penny by this time, she managed to get the signs that she now also had a crush on Talbott, which made her panic, again. However, since Talbott is even worse with emotions than her, she didn’t do anything drastic like she did with Penny. They went on one date in 6th year but that was going too fast for Talbott and they decided to stay friends until Talbott felt more comfortable being around people. Lili took this….mostly gracefully.

Diego Caplan The two met in the Dueling Club in 4th year. Diego was impressed with Lili’s skill and tried to befriend her and also maybe flirt with her a bit. Lili, who tends to gravitate towards people who are unashamedly themselves, found his over the top flirting hilarious and was instantly endeared to Diego. She really enjoyed being around him, finding his lightheartedness helped her forget some of her troubles with the Cursed Vaults, especially in 5th year. He asked her out on a date, her first one, and she agreed. She enjoyed the date, but 5th year was the peak of her obsession with the Cursed Vaults so she broke it off. They later dated again during 6th year, after Lili’s one date with Talbott.

Dormmates:

Rowan Khanna see above

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. Their entire relationship can be explained with that one text post that’s like “Bitch.” “Blocked.” “Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.” “Unblocked.” “Bitch.”

Vidalia Barrows An OC. Lili has said like two sentences to Vidalia and she plans to keep it that way. Vidalia just eats and sleeps and does whatever Desdemona says to do.

Doesn’t Interact:

Murphy McNully/Skye Parkin/Orion Amari/Erika Rath She’s not involved in Quidditch.

Andre Egwu I just can’t think of a way to work him into the plot lol They would get along somewhat well otherwise.

Enemies:

Merula Snyde Hated each other’s guts for a while. Then Lili gave up her Frog Choir spot and Merula gained a small crush (even if Lili was a total ass about giving it up). While they’ll never be friends, by the time of 5th and 6th year they’ve become reluctant allies similar to Lili and Tulip above. Lili will probably never totally befriend her, but she’s learned to be civil and that’s progress.

Ismelda Murk Lili doesn’t really like Ismelda but she considers her all bark and no bite. Ismelda hates Lili because she thinks Lili and Barnaby are gonna end up dating and is jealous.

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. See above.

Most of Slytherin House Lili has never been shy about being half Muggle and being proud of it, and in a house that still worships Voldemort, that sets her apart. The few that don’t find her being pro-Muggle distasteful don’t want to be exiles in their own dorms and avoid talking to her.

Story

Childhood:

Lili’s childhood was never that great. Her parents fought frequently over her and Jacob’s use of accidental magic, and this eventually caused them to divorce when Lili was 9. Her mother in particular was emotionally and physically abusive but Jacob spared her from the worst of it.

Jacob was always the best part of her childhood. She loved her parents, but Jacob was the person she always looked forward to seeing. When he went to Hogwarts, she was upset for weeks, and when he went missing, she was devastated (especially as he went missing the night of her birthday).

Her mother didn’t take it well. Carina was not particularly close with Jacob, but this obviously big failure of her as a parent hit her hard. She became very emotionally withdrawn from Lili and threw herself into her photography work, leaving the country, and Lili, for weeks at a time.

Lili had to become very independent very quickly after that. That, plus the fact that she didn’t have any non-Muggle friends meant she trusted very few people and lied often. Getting her Hogwarts letter was a relief and a promise of freedom

Hogwarts:

: )

see here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467043

Adulthood:

Lili is very distraught after graduation and leaves everyone she knows behind to travel Europe and find herself. She spends several years doing this, helping people and doing odd jobs.

Eventually, she finds that she has a talent for languages, picking up a few easily in her travels, and starts to consider possibly doing something related to language whenever she goes back to Britain.

Miscellaneous

She fuckin loves scrunchies.

Has lived in a Muggle neighbourhood her whole life.

Likes muggle TV. Grew up watching Doctor Who. Not impressed with the 6th Doctor, and glad she was away at Hogwarts during his run. Favorite Doctor is the 4th and she knit herself her own version of his scarf.

Likes collecting things! She loves cool rocks on the sidewalk, tacky tourist souvenirs, and things you find for $1 in a thrift store.

She can knit, crochet and sew. She likes making little crochet animals and giving them to friends (or just keeping them and having a plushy empire around her bed).

Loves having her photo taken and has a whole collection of photos, but hates taking photos. It reminds her of her mother.

One of her Muggle friends got her into fencing. She thought it would be useful to hone her athletic skills with, so she continued doing it when she went back to Hogwarts in the fall.

The type of person who needs to be doing something 24/7. When she doesn’t have anything to focus on, she tends to be all over the place and rather annoying.

Quieter and more complacent as a kid. it was after her family broke apart that the need to be so driven started to become a part of her personality.

Love Like You from Steven Universe is a song for her and Jacob (from Jacob’s POV)

Chameleon by Michela is a song that fits her

Tropes:

Big Brother Worship

Determinator

Family Eye Resemblance

Good is Not Nice

Hair Trigger Temper

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Parental Neglect

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #jacobs sibling #lili brooks #art be mine #this is super long lol #pls enjoy #texttexttext post

46 notes · View notes

red-dia · 4 years

Note

hi! i've always loved your hnk panel redraws and recently i've been so inspired by them that i've tried my hand at coloring some panels too! if you don't mind me asking, do you have any tips?

oh i certainly do! some of these are a bit generic/art related but they’re definitely useful in this case too. I’m adding a read more because unfortunately it got a bit long but here you go:

1) Get to know your tools!

Since you weren’t very specific, I’ll assume you aren’t too familiar with art softwares (and if you are, you can just skip that part it’s not That deep). I’ll start with the basics; I know this is obvious, but please bear with me, because understanding how your program works WILL make you a lot more efficient.Here are quick descriptions of some features I think are very useful - I use Clip Studio Paint, but I believe most programs have equivalents. If you don’t know them, please experiment with them, they’ll come in handy!

- Locking transparency :

Locking the transparency of a layer means only the parts where something is already drawn can be modified. Basically, you can recolour something that already exists in a rather precise way.

This is very useful for gradients, which I’ll talk about a bit later.

- Clipping layers :

This gives the same result as locking a layer then drawing over it, but the difference is that you use more than 1 layer ; one as the bottom layer, defining the part of the canvas you can draw on, and the others, clipped on top, where you’ll draw. This can be more practical than locking transparency, because if you have a lot of details to add, doing everything on a single layer may make things more difficult.

I use this a lot when I shade, but just like gradients, I’ll bring that up later.

- Layer settings :

These options change the way the colours on a layer blend with the colours below. As an example, addglow is pretty good for colouring very bright light sources or for adding highlights on gems :

Basically, using those isn’t a necessity, but they’re still pretty useful so I’d recommend experimenting with them whenever you feel like it!

- Magic Wand :

Not the most complicated to use, but damn it’s really useful. It allows you to make selections based on the colours you’re targeting, so basically, if you need to colour an entire area a certain colour, you can just select it from the original panel, go on the layer where you’re colouring, and colour nothing but the part you selected. That’s about it!

There are lots of others, but these are the main ones you need to know about when you’re getting started.

2) Colouring stuff

This is where it gets interesting! I guess! I’m not too good at just coming up with these kind of tips, so I’ll illustrate with some colouring, hopefully it’ll help you out?

I usually colour in 5 parts : 1) Preparing the panel(s), 2) Applying flat colours, 3) Adding gradients, 4) Adding shading, 5) Finalising with details.

I always prepare pages in the same way: first, I use the magic wand to select everything i do NOT want to colour ; the frames around the panels, the speech bubbles, the sfx, etc. Once they’re selected, I copy them, and paste them on a new layer. Then, I select the original layer, and turn it transparent so I can colour below while still keeping the lines. To do that, I go in Menu > Edit > Change brightness to opacity (in CSP at least, it depends on your program tho but most of them support this, I think!).

I end up with something like this :

Two layers, one on the bottom with the semi-transparent page, and another on top, with everything that I don’t plan on touching. On the page on the right, you can get an idea of what it looks like when you add a layer below these 2 and draw on it.

Now that I’m done with the panel, I can start adding some (flat) colours.

I think it’s a good idea to start with the background, because it’ll help you figure out the feeling you want to give the panel.

The airbrush is a pretty good tool for gradients btw, just make sure you use a brush that is big enough so the transition in colours looks natural.

Next, I add a new layer, and colour the shape of the characters (and here the vessel as well), so it stands out from the background. It’ll make colouring less complicated, since the lines will be clearer.

As you can see, I was kind of confident, so I directly added a gradient. The bottom of the panel is a bit “darker”, because I wanted the main light source to be the reflect on Phos’….. head thing?

Here’s something kind of important about your choice of colours : if you’re colouring an area that is already shaded in the original panel, I would recommend taking a colour that is more saturated than it should, or else the colour may end up looking dull because the original shading will make it darker.

Next, I do more flat colours. Nothing too fancy, and pretty much everything is on different layers. The clothes are left uncoloured because the background colour already fits, so it’s okay honestly

Then, I added some gradients using clip layers :

As a reference, I used some overlay layers for Dia’s hair, and some addglow layers for Phos’ alloy.

I mean it when I say gradients are important! They make your colouring feel more complete even when they’re barely visible. quickly coloured bortz for reference, assuming tumblr won’t compress the colours too much:

the bastard on the left has nothing but flat colours. They’re nice, but when you’ll have shaded everything, chances are it’ll look kind of …. i dunno, like something is missing? So yeah, gradients : good, though i would recommend you keep them in the same tone as the base colour. I’ll talk about this a bit more later if i don’t forget.

Ok! next:

I felt like golden colours weren’t quite fitting the mood, so i added a layer with blue on top of it to make it colder. It’s at 40% transparency, so you can still see the colours behind well enough. Some parts were slightly erased because i liked the idea of these parts being lighter (you can see it a little bit around phos’ neck, or above dia’s knees : these parts are yellower than the rest of the pic)

I added some shading! Nothing too fancy. also not to sound like some gradient-freak but you can add some of those in shading as well, it’s usually a nice touch.

After than, I added some lightings, which are on a layer clipped on the original manga panel (so basically only the black parts of the original image changed colours, and the colouring work I did on the layers below wasn’t really affected, if that makes sense?)

The red lighting is the obvious one (it’s an airbrush, and i used an eraser to clear the part near Phos’ head so it looks like it’s coming from above/behind them and not from themself).

There is another lighting at the bottom, which is grey/blueish, to contrast with the warm colours on the top of the pic. it also kind of looks like smoke but yeah

Now the panel is mostly done, and I’m starting the “details” part.

Something I find really bothersome in the manga is the *original* shading : while it’s always really good, colouring under it will leave some grid of pixels on top of your colours, so to counter that i just colour on top of the grid by colour picking and painting on a layer above the manga layer.

It’s a bit tedious but it has a texture that makes it look like a painting. The downside is that the colours can be altered since you’re colourpicking from something with an irregular pattern, but it can end up making your panel look less boring, honestly, it just depends on what you’re aiming for!

I end up with something like that :

And then it’s just. Whatever man. I added a black border and some highlights, sparkles, etc, it’s the kind of things you do when you’re basically done.

For the technical aspect, I’m not sure I have a lot more to add. If you want some advices for picking colours, tho…

3) General colour stuff :

These are just recommendations! Licherally these are mental notes i came up with ever since i’ve started colouring, so they’re kind of personal and if you don’t follow them you’ll be fine, i suppose. But so far they’ve been useful to me so consider them whenever you’ll be colouring something:

- Do not use pure white! Unless it’s for something CLEARLY meant to stand out, such as the frame of your pages, a speech bubble, sparkles, or a light source/something very shiny. If you’re just colouring something that is not meant to draw attention, use some other shade of white, but not the #ffffff one if you see what i mean?

- Same about pure black, to be honest.

The shades circled in red tend to look “emptier” than the ones circled in green (here the hue of the colour is yellow but it works with most colours). It doesn’t mean you can’t use it, just, use it sparingly or it may make things look dull I think? I would recommend trying a few shades before taking a decision.

- Sometimes adding highlights where the shading starts can make the transition look smoother:��

- Even if a panel is already shaded in the original page, I would recommend shading it again, because the manga shading is a black shading and shading a coloured drawing with black usually doesn’t look that good. (hence why i said something about using saturated colours in shading earlier).

- Even if a panel isn’t shaded in the original page, consider shading it anyways, even if it’s just a very light shading. It’s worth it :o)

I’m running out of things to say oh well

#i didnt mean to write so much. it just happened i hope it's not a pain to read #also i hope it was clear but if it wasnt. (points @ my inbox)#whenever people tell me theyre getting into panel colouring i go... [powercry emoji]... its really fun and honestly i dont see that many #ppl into it so i get really enthusiastic ? thats it #personal #asks

116 notes · View notes

artemuerto · 4 years

Text

Selfish— or Part 2 of another Mob Boss with another moodboard.

original moodboard here

Part 1: On a Whimp—

Read on AO3

Selfish—

He rose up still drunk on sleep. Peter wasn’t used to yet but enjoyed it anyway. Whether was dark and warm past midnight or the early cold mornings, he found peace in it.

Shoeless feet brushed gingerly on the soft rug while the small click of oxfords were heard in the room. The door opened to the spacey bathroom and Peter was soon surrounded by floral essences of Lavender and Lillies.

A smooth and caring touch was left in his hair and Peter couldn’t help but sigh lovingly, not in all his short time living this live he could get used to the alluring promises of forever.

Mister Stark was still on his working clothes. The only clear difference of his appearance was the lack of a tie and the golden twins at his sleeves, in fact, the white of his sleeves were now slightly pink and splashed over, rolled up so Peter had a view of his bare forearms and the pulsing veins flooding with rage.

He wanted to comfort while the other man had other plans. Striping Peter from his nightgown in sweet touches. First the silky pristine top, the spaghetti stripes rolled down his shoulders bringing tickles and making the boy chuckle loud enough to be heard in the room. Stark leaned over to smell the scent of apples from Peter’s hair and a tint of his own shampoo; Peter started to crave his smell the nights Tony spend too long out from the state.

“Mister Stark—“ Peter tried again to gain his attention but the man shushed him sweety with a kiss on his forehead, a silent order to let him be. Both would find peace afterward. Peter nodded wordlessly and took a step forward. Stepping on Stark’s shoes, Peter went up to his fingertips by the time Stark sank his fingers on the hem of his frilly shorts and pushed them down.

Peter hid his face in the man’s neck feeling shy.

“You’re Perfecto, Bambino.” Stark praised him and reassured him. To him Peter was an angel.

His underwear for the night were simple white panties that hugged his cheeks to roundness and was soft to his fingertips, he almost felt disappointed at the lack of sweet patterns, feeling accustomed to the tiny details the made the clothing purely Peter.

“Grazie.” Stark felt his heart soared in a sense of pride as Peter talked, the boy had taken a liking for learning Italian so he could understand Tony at random times when the words would escape him.

The undergarments went down and promptly Peter was moved to the bathtub.

The water was warm but he still felt the change in his skin giving him goosebumps, Tony had him siting at his chest so Peter couldn’t see his face. Mr. Stark’s hands went to his hair, getting it wet and ready enough for shampoo. Peter melted under his touch trusting him with his soul, the man would never hurt him.

He lashes became sparkly with water as Stark cleaned him and only then Peter notice the different coloring he was sitting on. Long lost was the clear and bubbly seam of water, left only a not so strange but still not familiar pink hue. Mister Stark had his hands dirty.

The man was kneeled in front of Peter, his gaze was still dark and controlling and now the Peter knew what to look for, he could see the lonely drops of blood under his nails.

Peter turned to face him and taking his rough hand in his, the boy cleaned Stark earnestly and was rewarded with a slow smile.

No. Peter wasn’t used to be awaken at odd hours, hours where mr. Stark would have been working. And that meant, screaming, threatening, hurting and punishing other people, people who deserved it.

The hours where the man was drained to exhaustion and one of his ways to coping with the murder thoughts was to touch him, to bath him and clean him as if that way the man stripped down his own sins.

And Peter would gladly drink them all only to see the man smile again.

Tony wrapped him in a fluffy towel and carried him to his room. Out were expose three different pajamas Peter could choose from before going back to sleep. Tony was going to dressed him careful and thoughtfully, spread him in his sheets and let him take as much space as the boy wanted, which usually meant staying nested near his body even when the bed was big enough to fit four to five people.

Peter let the Mafia Lord rest between his legs and hugged him to his chest, he would never say it aloud but he worried for the older man. An older man carrying the weight of the world in his shoulders ready to do the impossible for his family and the people he cared about. Peter was lucky to be one of those now.

Tony could drown in his need for revenge, pride and lust for blood anytime, but one look at Peter and everything else would ease into background. Tony wanted only to see Peter.

Tony wanted to give him the world.

And of that meant tearing the world down. So be it.

—

‘Jasmine’ was still the same but also different. Soon the place had become a safe space now that they knew they could trust each other.

Stephen was always glad to see Peter once again even by the hand of Stark, but soon any dark thoughts were forgotten with one of Peter’s smiles.

Bucky saved him a place next to the bar, Peter no longer was a simple ornament, a pretty bird to fawn over. Now, he mixed and served next to mr. Barnes with the only unusual outcome of having pats on his head by the people who knew him.

Natasha was delighted to see him again. Gushing how much ‘Jasmine’ wasn’t the same without his lithe flower. The woman was there for business, someone had required her services and she had to touch point. Get to know her client even before considering the offer.

It was a really good fucking offer.

Peter giggled attracting some attention. Some expected, some unwanted; he had grown up accustomed to the demeaning stare and bland comments about his mere existence. How much he was nothing but dirt underneath their shoes not even worth cleaning.

He never really paid attention. Peter knew he was in safe hands, Dr. Strange —as he liked to refer himself— never left him out of his sight, Bucky was near him all times and misses Romanov tucked him under her wing before he was even conscious.

He was in safe hands.

Now, to those hands, he could add some more. A pair of hands that he could love, caress and admire.

Tony’s hands were made of iron. With a clenching fist and a deadly grasp, everybody feared for his life pending within those hands. Anyone but Peter.

Bucky let him know it was time for him to serve drinks at the upper state. The hidden floor used only in special occasion.

His shiny shoes squeaked against the floor forgotten to the soft lullaby of music, a tray rested on his hand, careful walk and timid steps leaded him behind a heavy curtain and wood double doors.

Knocking smoothly he waited for instructions.

Mr. Rogers opened the door for him, nodding in silence Peter greeted the man and gazed over the room to know their occupants. Dr. Strange was sitting far from the window, legs crossed in a comfortable sofa, mr. Rogers kept his place close to the door. There was a man sitting on the other sofa next to Strange, a man he didn’t know.

The unknown face was serious. Short and well-kept hair, the beard wasn’t long but thick, Peter question if it would feel as smooth as Mr. Stark thrim one underneath his hands however any second thought was soon forgotten as Mr. Stark himself caught his attention.

“Please, come in.” Peter held his need to smile feeling pleased and after a second or so, left the tray in the table by the man.

“I gotta say, this was not what i expected.” Said the man as Peter served four cups of tea in pearl white cups decorated with hand painted drawing of living flowers. Peter kneeled fully in the soft rug and for moments his movement was in doubt, had he understood wrongly? Those were not his orders?

Strange came forward and patted his head to ease his worries.

“I know it’s unconventional although I personally taught Peter the art of Japanese tea parties and is as important as the discussion we’re having.” Peter nodded along the doctor’s words and continued to serve each cup with care and love.

Peter felt the weight of a stare, so curious as always, he looked up thinking he was going to find Mr. Stark eyes but instead he took in a pair of interested piercing blue eyes.

“How silly of me—“ Mr. Stark roamed shortly as Peter walked to give Steve his cup. The smiled grateful, they had been drinking most part of the evening and his stomach was glad of a changed. “Please, let me introduce the new member of the Stark Industries.” Tony circles his desk and stayed on top of it with a loose grin between his lips. “Quentin, meet Peter.” The boy stopped his actions to stand and come closer to the man whose eyes sparkled with an upsetting glamour.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Quentin smiled with a short nod and repressed a twitching eyebrow from going up in interest. So this was the mysterious boy he had heard before.

A well-hidden boy who had stolen Stark’s heart. Some say the man let the boy rule on top of his shoulders.

Well, at least the boy was easy on the eye so he could sympathize with the older one.

“Peter, this is mister Quentin Beck.” Peter grinned looking pleased like a cat who almost got the cream and went back to attending the men around him. Now going step by step on what he was doing and why. Strange looked proud.

“Usually the head of the family would be the last person to be serve.” Stealing a amuse smirk to Mr. Stark, Peter went up to the man and left his cup untouched on the desk. “But today we are here to celebrate you Mr. Beck.” Quentin wasn’t going to lie, he felt a tingle of arousing glee at being addressed in such ways by the little beauty.

The sound of pouring tea was heard with such clarity that Quentin should have been more worried about it rather than staring at Peter as the boy opened the kettle’s lid to extract fresh petals of flowers and served them gingerly.

Steve look at his empty cup, did he just—?

“Tonight we honor you with a special infusion to make you feel comfortable.” Peter placed the cup in the man’s hands and waited for him to drink bits. The soft and sweet floral scent had a taste of honey. “We have to treat you like you are...” Quentin finished his drink in short soundless sips. “The man who’s trying to steal from the Stark Family.”

Beck’s eyes went wide and his hands trembled slightly, short after his heart started beating fast and his breath was unable to even out. One of his bands rose to his neck useless. The cup rolled down the carpet.

Peter caught Tony’s eyes almost guilty.

“I’m sorry.” Cleaning the rug was going to be a pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Steve will take care of it.” Speaking of Steve—

The poor man was petrified in his place, his eyes never leaving the lifeless corpse of Beck laying in the sofa, from outside nobody would have thought the man was dead, only comfortably sleeping if you didn’t notice the lack of movement in his chest. Steve has also finished his drink and sure was waiting his turn.

Peter moved closer to Steve and took both of his hands into his own.

“You’re okey, Cap. Nothing is going to happened to you.” The man released a heavy breath he didn’t know was keeping in and his legs failed him for seconds, leaving him kneeling in front of the boy with his forehead against the soft clothed tummy. “I would never hurt you, Cap.” Steve laughed in guffaw and finally relaxed his shoulders.

“Please, don’t ever do that again, Boss.” He was talking to Tony but gazed up to find Peter. “It’s not good for my health.” Peter giggled in content and caressed the man’s hair as an apology.

Mr. Stark moved from his seat and thought what to do now.

They had work ahead.

By the time Jasmine was close and the body was being moved Peter came close asking for time to see the man better and touched his beard. With a displeased disappointment he realized it was not even close to the feeling he had when closer to Mr. Stark.

Tony lifted a brow questioning and Peter shrugged.

“It doesn’t feel the same.”

“To what?” Peter hugged himself to Tony’s waist and hide a shy smile.

“To you.”

Peter watched as the body disappeared in Bucky’s hands.

“They should know better than to touch what’s mine.” He breathed easily as all trail of Quentin Beck began to erase there in the middle of nowhere, hidden in open landscapes.

Back at the manor Peter stood half naked, only a robe covering his body as Tony applied lotion to his legs.

“And tell me master Peter. What’s yours?” The tint of amused sarcasm was not invisible to Peter and for moments he had the decency to look embarrassed, his cheeks lighting up in color. “The money? Or is it the gun? Are they yours baby?” Tony left the robe on the floor and started to slowly dress the boy in delicate silk shorts.

Peter rose up to his tippy toes and hugged Tony by his shoulders.

“The money is yours. You made it. You earned it. You bled it out.” Peter wanted nothing more than kiss the man in his arms. “Your guns are yours, your designes, your ideas.” Tony held the boy closer and kissed his neck. Peter standing on the bed while he stayed with his feet on the ground, the boy seem taller. “You wanted to know what’s mine...”

Peter could have said so many different things. Jasmine, the club. The house Strange had given him, the car Natasha gifted him for his birthday, so many other material things he had over the years. Yes, Peter had other things but worth killing for was only one.

“You. You are mine. And I won’t let anyone take you from my side.” Good answer.

If Peter was selfish for wanting to hurt anything or anyone who could take Tony away.

He was a madman willing to destroy the world only to see him happy.

“Don’t touch what’s mine.” Said the clever boy once pointing a pristine gun to a man’s forehead once and pulled the trigger the second Tony was to his side.

#starker #pro starker #starker moodboard #another mob boss au #Mob Boss Tony #Well-kept boy Peter #mis escritos #in english #arte muerto

26 notes · View notes