#also I made another oc! I'm not sure about her name yet but she's the avatar after hira & from taituk's tribe

[tragedykery]

the thing about hira is that her airbending is a gift but her avatarhood is a curse

[ravenn-darkholme]

Permanent Price chapter 3

Alex Summers x Mutant!OC

Summary: Isabella Darkholme, sister of raven Darkholme and Charles Xavier. Also a mutant. Her mutation allows her to blend in with the light rays, turning herself and whatever she's touching invisible.

word count: 3149

warnings: none that I know of

series masterlist

They pulled up to Agent Koenigs's facility with a new addition to their little mutant group. Charles introduced him to raven, his name was Erik Lehnsherr. His mutation was that he could control metal. It was an amazing mutation. Bella was astonished. Mutants really are amazing.

"Welcome to my facility. My mission has been to investigate the application of paranormal powers in military defense." Koenig said.

"Or offense." Erik cut in. Isabella didn't need to be like Charles to know Erik was only here to kill Shaw, he really wanted to get this over with.

"This guy Shaw, Schmidt, whatever you want to call him, he's working with the Russians. We might need your help to stop him."

Bella tuned them out grabbing her sister's hand securely. They may have been adults but bella had terrible anxiety. Ever since she was a child, she could barely go out in public. She missed that motherly figure in her life to tell her it would be okay. Raven and Charles were there for her of course, but she dreamed of having a mother, or even just a parent. So whenever she was near lots of people or just in public, she would stick close to her sister. Raven sometimes acted as a mother, even though they were the same age, she was just very maternal and loving.

"So we're to be the CIA's new mutant division, yes?" Charles asked keeping his sisters in his eye line making sure Belle was okay. He knew how bad it could get, sometimes he would calm her with his mutation, but thankfully he didn't need to do that today.

"Something like that," Koenig said. It made bella feel uneasy. What else would they be doing? Are they keeping them, prisoners? The thoughts getting to her head made her breathing shaky. Raven could tell her sister was feeling anxious and put her arm around her and kissed the side of her head whilst muttering "It's okay. I'm here, you don't need to feel like this." Surprisingly it made her feel better, just knowing her sister was there gave her a feeling of warmth.

The mutants followed the agents further into the building until they were beneath a huge jet, attached to the ceiling by thin wires. that didn't look safe.

"It's uh supersonic." A man said who seemed to be working nearby. Everyone looked up at the jet in awe.

"Hank, these are the special new recruits I was telling you about." - He nodded towards the group. - "This is Hank McCoy, one of our most talented young researchers."

"How wonderful. Another mutant, already here." Charles said stepping closer to the man and shaking his hand. This made Isabella happy. There really were mutants in plain sight, hopefully, one day it would be normal for mutants to be around and not having to hide - as raven does.

"Why didn't you say?" Charles asked Koenig.

"Say what?" He replied with a confused tone.

"Because you don't know. I am so, so terribly sorry." Shit Charles. Isabella looked at him with a sorrowful look. He seemed like a nice guy, yet here he was being outed by Charles.

"Hank?" Koenig asked with what seemed to be an amazed expression - let's hope it was that anyway.

"You didn't ask, so I didn't tell," Hank said looking down.

"So, your mutation is what?" Raven asked stepping forwards, still holding onto her sister's hand. "you're super-smart?" she teased.

"I'll say. Hank here graduated Harvard at the age of 15." Charles spoke up.

"I wish that's all it was." Hank shyly told.

"You're in the company of friends now, Hank," Isabella said to the newly announced mutant. She wanted him to feel safe around them. She knew how it was to be shy and how it can take a toll on your social status.

"You can show off," Charles added. Hank stepped back and started to take his shoes and socks off. Bella wondered what his mutation was.

"Splendid," Charles said after seeing his feet. He had hands for feet. Truly amazing how a mutation can change something.

"I'm sorry," Hank muttered as he moved around the group taking a big leap and jumping upside down, and holding onto the jet with his feet.

"Amazing," Isabella said with a smile to the man who shyly smiled at her sister.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella couldn't help the smile that came over her face as she sat across from her sister. After they met hank they all went their separate ways. Isabella just strolled around the building invisibly so she didn't get stares or didn't have to smile and talk to people. It did make her sound like a resentful bitch, but she couldn't care less. Currently, the two were sitting in their shared bedroom that was in the facility. At first, Bella wanted a room by herself so she didn't make raven feel like her carer, but raven loved being with her sister. Nothing could break them apart.  Bella reading a book, and Raven flipping through a magazine, while music played softly in the background.

"What?" Raven asked once she saw that her sister was smiling at her.

"Nothing." Isabella shrugged before she went back to her book.

"Belle." Raven pushed as she knew she was lying. She just wanted to know what  Bella was smiling at her for.

"You and beast-boy huh?" belle teased as a smirk replaced her smile,

"Beast-boy?" Raven questioned with a whine.

"Yeah cuz' his feet are what you'd imagine a beast to have like in the story Mom told us." Raven smiled at the mention of their late mother. She had died when they were roughly eight years old. All they had to remember her by was the necklace Isabella wore. Bella went on and on for raven to keep it, but raven knew how belle needed things like that to keep her close to family when things got too much for her. Sometimes when she was young and her mother kissed her goodbye to school she swore not to wash that cheek until she saw her mother again. That's how bad it was.

"Do you miss her?"

"Yeah, but I know she would be proud of us. For sticking to what's right." Isabella said fiddling with her necklace. The only time she took it off was when she showered so it didn't get rusty. Raven had their mom's ring on her right-hand ring finger.

"If mom didn't die, do you think things would have been different?" Raven questioned quietly.

"Like what?"

"Like maybe we wouldn't have been as close, we wouldn't have met Charles. Maybe our mutations got out of control and we expose ourselves and make everything worse-" Raven rambled on.

"Let's not think about what could have happened yeah? Let's be glad we're here now, safe doing things we didn't know we could. I miss Mom, but I'm glad she's at peace now." Isabella said before smiling at her sister.

"So. back to you and beast-boy" Bella laughed as she saw her sister face plant the pillow.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella was in astonishment as she followed after Raven and Erik into what Hank presented to them as Cerebro.

"Okay, so, uh, the electrodes connect Charles to the transmitter on the roof. When he picks up a mutant, his brain sends a signal through a relay, and then the coordinates of their location are printed out here." Hank explained his invention. Isabella stood with her brother as they looked over the piece that he would have to place on his head, while Raven and Erik stood with Hank beside the controls. She couldn't help but feel a little anxiety about what they were to be doing but she pushed it aside as she watched Charles place the helmet on.

"What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles." Erik teased as the woman switched places with Erik and stood next to her sister. Bella felt glad Erik was warming up to them and agreed to stay with them. When they first found Erik he was incredibly closed off. It had only been a day but he was opening up more and more. Bella and Erik both had the same goal at the end of the day. Kill and find Shaw. Something they bonded over. It may have been out of character for Bella to be so violent, but if Shaw was actively hurting and threatening people, including her family, she wanted him gone.

"Don't spoil this for me, Erik." Charles shot back as he got relaxed in the chair.       

"Oh. I've been a lab rat.

I know one when I see one." Erik admitted.

"Are you sure we can't shave your head?" Hank asked Charles as he made sure the helmet was on accurately.

"Don't touch my hair," Charles said instantly, displeased with hanks offer. Hank just nodded before he went back to the control panel. Turning on the machine and flipping all the needed switches. Isabella waited in suspense as the room seemed to get darker and the lights of the machine seemed to be the only things illuminating the room. Charles grunted in pain as he grasped the railing that seemed to surround him. Bella grabbed her sister's hand as they waited in anticipation.

"It's working." Hank declared to the other mutants as they observed Charles. Bella couldn't help but smile as she watched her brother chuckle in amazement at what he was seeing.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella sat on Charles's bed as she watched him pack a small bag. He and Erik would be traveling to recruit some of the mutants that Charles had found while in Cerebro. Her plan would be to beg Charles to let her go with them. She was bored of staying in the facility, which was not like her. Normally she would stay in her room listening to music, reading, and wouldn't come out. But something was drawing her away. Like a magnet in her stomach pulling her somewhere and she needed to follow it.  

"Are you sure I can't join the two of you?" She asked.

"The new recruits will need friendly faces to greet them - preferably other mutants - when they arrive," Charles explained to his younger sister. He wouldn't have minded if  Bella just joined the two of them. Making sure she was ok and safe. Of course, she would be fine at the facility, especially with Raven, but he worried for her and knew how she got.

"And you, my dear sister, have one of the friendliest faces I have ever seen," Charles added as she stopped next to the woman and put his arm around her shoulder. She missed moments like this, they hadn't had one in a while.      

"He isn't wrong. bella" A new voice joined them from the doorway. Isabella turned her head and saw that it was Raven, walking through the door.     

"This won't work you know.." Bella rolled her eyes as she pulled Charles' arm away from her.

"What won't work?" Raven smiled as she walked closer to her siblings.

"She is right. Isabella is way too stubborn to let this go." Her brother laughed.

"I was just hoping to get out of this stupid government building," Bella said, shocking her siblings.

"Really? Normally you would stay and curl up in your room. Your not the type to go out specifically to see people."  Her sister really did know her all too well.

"I don't know. I think I wanna just get out. All the government agents creep me out and I think I need to learn to be around people more, this might help." It wasn't a complete lie, but if she said the real reason Charles would immediately shut her down and probably laugh and tell her she needed rest. She saw her brother have a look of contemplation on his face before he opened his mouth and agreed for her to tag along. She squealed with excitement. Maybe Charles wasn't so protective anymore, maybe he was finally letting her have her own life.

"Okay well have fun for me. Good luck meeting new people bella." Raven said hugging her sister. It might've seemed childish, but Isabella really did have a hard time near people. She'd gotten better recently though, and raven was proud of her sister.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella was delighted that Charles had agreed for her to come search for the mutants

As Bella sat in the car waiting for Charles, she found herself wondering what the real reason was for her desire to go with Charles and Erik. The pretend magnet in her stomach got more and more intense the more they searched for other mutants. With no answer from the universe she was hoping for, Isabella decided to get out of the car and find Charles, erik, and the mutant they were there for. When they pulled up to the strip club, Charles forced Isabella to stay in the car. His protective side revealing which was really starting to irritate Bella.

The invisible mutant phased through the doors of the club. She then phased through a few private areas, before finally coming upon the one Charles and erik were in. She saw the beautiful girl before her eyes and smiled once she saw the captivating wing that protruded through her back.

"Badass." Bella said, making herself visible. Clearly captivated by the girl and her wings. Charles sighed at his little sister whilst Erik and the girl-Angel- smirked at Isabella.

"How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?" He said to the mutant as she wafted in the air, her wings fluttering around her.

Once they sent Angel to the CIA facility, the next mutant they were to recruit, was a taxi driver named Darwin.

"Where to?" Darwin asked the three, sending a charming smile to Isabella. 

"Richmond, Virginia, please." She told the man before Charles could interrupt her.

"Right, so, you want the airport? The station? What?" Darwin chuckled.

"No, we were rather hoping you would take us all the way." She smiled.

"That's a six-hour drive."

"That will give us plenty of time to talk," Erik smirked before shutting the fare meter, making Darwin look back in surprise.

Now they were in a prison to see another mutant - of course. Isabella wasn't sure about this one, since he was in prison. As they made their way through the prison, following the warden, Isabella felt the fictional magnet in her stomach start fluttering around, tugging her harder and closer than it had before.

weird.

what is weird belle? She heard Charles in her head.

"Stop invading my mind, Charles." She grumbled, before stopping in front of the cell holding the mutant - Alex Summers.

"What does the government want with a guy like Alex Summers? I hope you're not planning on putting him with others. First guy, I've ever met who actually prefers solitary confinement." The warden said to them in a judgy tone. People like him were some of the reasons Isabella was anxious to go out, I mean come on no need to be so judgy.

He opened the door and there they saw Alex who so say caused havoc, Bella was guessing with his mutation. The warden cautioned them earlier, about putting him with others in a group, as Alex was the only prisoner he'd known to actually prefer solitary confinement like the warden said before. He looked up with a scowl on his face. Apparently, he wasn't actually bad, just worried about unleashing his mutation and hurting others around him.

We can fix him up. Bella thought feeling the need to help him understand his power, and make him feel more secure using it if he wants to of course.

Once they left the prison, Isabella decided to go back to the CIA facility with Alex. Obviously to see Raven no other reason. She also wanted to assure Alex he won't cause any destruction or hurt others. Charles was reluctant to leave Bella to go back on her own and thought it was odd that she would happily leave the safety of her brother, knowing she preferred to stay with her siblings. Maybe she was coming out of her shell though, which would be amazing for her.

Currently, Bella was sitting next to the newly recruited mutant. She could tell how tense and nervous he was to be out of solitary confinement. They hadn't said much to him about what they were planning, so Isabella felt the need to explain everything, not even just what he was here to do. She wanted to explain mutations to him too. Now she may not have been as smart as Charles, but she knew more than the average person on mutations. After forcing Charles to read about it all to her, she felt pretty confident she could explain it to him and help him understand.

"You don't have to be so nervous you know. I don't bite" She told him softly with a smile.

He didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the airport around him. Isabella sighed not knowing what to say to him. She knew all too well about being quiet. All bella wanted to do was help him.

"I'm not going to ridicule you for whatever you did, or your mutation." She sighed, needing to let him understand she was here to help. Alex looked toward Isabella scoffing before saying.

"I can take the insults, I just don't want to hurt anyone. I don't think you understand how destructive I am."

"You know if you were to get out of control, ill be here to help. I can create forcefields that are sealed tight and impenetrable, nothing would get in or out of my forcefields. I can do other stuff too, but ill only show you if you tell me about you." She smiled.

For the whole plane journey, they both shared storied about their life. Alex even opening up to Isabella about his abilities. He shared the story of how he ended up in prison. She felt for him, no one deserved to feel that way about themselves or their powers. She even ended up making him laugh, which made Belle feel warm inside at the sight.

authors note

hey, lil detail of belle and ravs moms necklace and ring</3 now ik in the movies we know literally nothing bout her parents but in this ff they're mother was a mutant and she was killed because someone in their hometown found out bla bla, with my personal anxiety experiences ik I liked to cling to family or things of my families ik everyone's different but some people will relate :) thnx for reading pls vote !!! ALSO, OUR OTP HAS FINALLY MET YYAAYAYAYA okay ship name ----BALEX ---- CUTE OKAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THEIR JOURNEY HJAHSIHAHDAUKH

I'm so excited for balex wedding au you do not understand

btw I will be doing all movies plus an AU once dark phoenix is done (spoiler Alex wont die... or will he;)

[slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea]

CW: OC talk + Rambling / Blood / Gore / Censored Nudity (character sheet) / Mentions of Drugging

(idk why these warnings are so intense, but I swear it's all just silly OC talk T^T)

I’m kinda sorta working on more (comprehensible) TS OC stuff in between studying right now… I wanna hurry and talk about them but without info dumping (if given the opportunity I will without hesitation 😔…) because in terms of the best stories I have conjured up for OCs in general Naudedel and Noble are surprisingly good and I’m very excited to share how deranged they are together…

Right now it’s just about making Naudy readable and working on extra fun stuff… like monsters!

I’m trying to work out his “monster” form…. The concept is there, but the execution is just not ticking the right boxes for me right now… also, the line art at the end is old and probably will go unused, but thought it was something to add here because like hehe look at my deranged son :)

When it comes to the writing I'm going to split it into two chapters. The first half will be a summary+ of his upbringing, and the second on how he fucked up his arm and why. Just enough info to get a read on what his deal is pretty much. I just need to edit the first chapter and rewrite some parts then it's ready to annoy the world!

I'm trying to think of a good design for his original mother... I'm thinking dark hair and milf (¬‿¬)･ﾟ✧ ... honestly I need to start drawing out the designs for all the other TS OCs I've accumulated over the year (?) here's a fun list-

Hickery (bloodhound OC... dilf oc...I've already been made fun of for his name, but it stuck to me so I'm keeping it!)

Maya (another bloodhound OC)

Cove (Hound's ex-husband)

Cetcher's gf + informant, who still needs a good name...

and that one guy! (doesn't have a name yet... but is important in Hound's part of the story... she bashed some of his guys in the back of head with a hammer... it was a whole thing... Leander got involved... gang war stuff, don't worry about it...)

There are technically more OCs, like that Hightown lady Noble befriended during their first few weeks in town. However, I'm not sure if I'm including her in the final plot meeting. But yeah, anyway I'm rambling so on to Noble news!

For Noble, everything is plotted out in advance surprisingly…character playlist and all... just need to find the words to explain their story other than “parasite with a weird God complex feels guilty” I do have some old memes and art of them though!

Noble curse stuff...

Childhood cult stuff...

Current reality...

Poor person masquerade dress censored for tumblr...

Noble folks!

I actually wrote out a whole little thing for the black dress in a what-if scenario of...

"Oh! ,,,What if there is a masquerade in Hightown and Noble sneaks in to get some information on a certain individual who might know a thing or two about curses, but turns out the whole event if devious and their all eating babies or some fucked up shit,,,, and what if while sneaking around they see Leander and are like 'what's he doing here?' and they lock eyes but he ignores them as he ducks into a closed off area with some important looking people,,, once he comes out he walks past them and they lock eyes again as he leaves,,, Noble chases after him and once they catch up they get to see his cold and detached side right before he hides them from the other guest,,, after they talk for a bit, or more like Leander talking over them and their worries as he slowly wipes their memories while they protest that it's not fair only to wake up the next day back in their room,,, thankfully their curse is good for more then just silly bouts of insanity so they have a hunch on what happened, everyone around them who knew where they went the night before were obviously worried and the general consensus is that they might have been drugged and should go check in with Kuras just in case (wow this is getting long...) but on their way to the clinic they run into Leander and of course discusses their current problem with him ,,, words are exchanged,,, a kabedon may occur,,, as he whispers in their ear,,, all fun till he erases their memories again, or at least tires before receiving a little gift that makes him look at this whole curse thing from a different angle." DEEP BREATH! ...Anyways... yeah.

But it was taking so long to write out that I ended up losing motivation so yeah... like everything else we will pray the motivation comes back so I can finish that... plus who knows, I might make an x reader version of it if I can. (don't hold your breath... I'm extremely slow)

Anyway, I'm gonna to shut up now because I've yapped enough. I'mma make some hibiscus tea (ironic) and head to bed... Night night, if you made it this far, thank you for listening to my craziness <3

[nolita-fairytale]

so my darling | sydney adamu x the restaurateur (unnamed male oc) | oneshot

summary: sydney falls in love with a restauranteur (one played by pedro pascal). song title inspired by so my darling by rachel chinouriri.

warnings: swearing, unnamed ocs, talking about sex, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, two original characters (the restaurateur & the pastry chef), the pastry chef is the mc from make my heart surrender, wong kar-wai films, ambiguous ending

wc: 4.8k

a/n: ok, so i'm not entirely back, but this photo of pedro pascal and ayo edebiri at the sag awards quite literally haunted me and made me write something about it. also i've really missed all of you. and i've missed these characters. and i miss this world. this oneshot feels really different to me than a lot of the things i've written for the bear and there isn't much inclusion of the other characters because i really, really wanted to write from sydney's perspective. it's limited storytelling in the way that it's mostly her experience of being charmed by the restaurateur but i had a lot of fun with this and i hope you enjoy. fic inspired by the pic below:

nolita fairytale's masterlist

Sydney doesn’t expect to win, yet her name is called out anyway, followed by the phrases: “James Beard Rising Star Award” and “the winner is.” 

Most of the night is a blur. Somewhere between winning the biggest award of her career to accepting congratulations from the best chefs in the world, Sydney’s still trying to gather her bearings. It’s not until Carmy’s girlfriend, the woman who picked up her life and moved to Chicago to be with her exec chef, tugs at her arm. 

Sydney doesn’t mean to completely reduce the woman to just Carmy’s girlfriend. 

She’s also become many other things: the head pastry chef at The Bear, a colleague, and most importantly, a best friend. 

“Hey, Syd! Carm wants to introduce you to someone,” she says, before giving Sydney a chance to politely excuse herself from the previous conversation she’d found herself in. 

As The Pastry Chef leads her away from her present company, Sydney follows with a soft smile, half expecting it to be yet another celebrity chef—someone in Carmy’s network that reminds her why she began working at the Bear when The Bear was The Beef. 

What she doesn’t expect is to meet him, her breath hitching in her throat as she and her best friend who’s dragged her over here, find themselves standing across from Carmy and an unfamiliar man.

“I see a congratulations is in order,” the man greets her, tipping his half-empty glass of champagne in her direction with a smile so charming she has to do a double take. 

“To this year’s newest Rising Star chef.” 

He’s handsome, sure—but that’s not what catches her eye.

The first thing Sydney notices about the man is his soft, dark curls—much cleaner than the unruly ones that belong to her head chef. He wears thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and has a perfectly groomed mustache that surprisingly works for him. It’s not usually her kind of thing, is all. In a white button down, perfectly tucked into his pristine black trousers, it's somehow still black tie with a touch of rebelliousness for forgoing a tie and a proper suit jacket. 

He can’t be much older than Richie, she thinks to herself. What? Ten… maybe fifteen years older than herself? 

Reality comes back to her, as she realizes that she hasn’t said a word, wondering just how long she’s spent caught up in her own head over the handsome stranger. 

“Oh uh, yeah. Thanks,” Sydney replies with a smile and a nod, snapping back to her senses. 

“Syd, this is… probably one of the few mentors I’ve had in my career. Well, him and Terry, ‘course,” Carmy begins to introduce, shyly. He’s not used to the one doing the introductions. “From Malibu.” 

“Fairest Creatures,” the man clarifies with a hearty chuckle, citing the name of the restaurant they worked at together. “Way, waaaaaaay back in the day.”

Right. 

The restaurant that put Carmy on the map, winning himself the same award that year that Sydney’s won tonight. 

That’s when it clicks for her.

An old mentor of Carmy’s. 

Not Terry.

And no, not that one—not the asshole from New York—to put it nicely.

The Restaurateur from California.

“No, I-. Yeah! I’m a big fan of your work, yeah,” Sydney scrambles to say, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as she reaches out to shake his hand. 

“Carmy was one of my early boys—look at him now. The student has far surpassed the teacher,” the chef adds, implying he’s mentored plenty of then-up-and-coming chefs back in the day.

“Oh thanks, but uh. Nah, I don’t know about that,” Carmy mutters, quick to brush off the older chef’s compliment. 

Sydney can feel The Pastry Chef nudge her playfully, letting out a chuckle in response. The two exchange glances as Sydney follows her gaze from Carmy to his mentor. 

“Oh they’re just being modest. Don’t think I’ve ever met two humbler chefs than these two,” the pastry chef adds with a playful eye roll, shooting her lover a look that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Which… if you ask me, is practically unheard of in this industry so… I consider us lucky, Syd.” 

Sydney lets out a small, nervous laugh in agreement, before raising her own champagne glass to her lips as she finds herself, suddenly, parched. 

*

She sees him again, weeks later, when the pomp and circumstance of winning a James Beard award has almost died down. She’d been quick to assume that, like many other chefs that weekend, he’d only been in town for the award ceremony, but as Sydney listens to the man tell Carmy that he’s moved to Chicago for “the foreseeable future,” she wonders why she never asked in the first place. 

The Restaurateur had come in to say hello, for a meal, and Carmy had quickly declared that it would be on the house—eager to feed the best mentor he ever had in his California fine dining days.

“Yeah, I’ll be steppin’ in for Cuadros… when he goes on paternity leave… and we’re talking about expanding—what that could look like. Well, you know how it goes, Carm. Right now I’m just hangin’ out, helping out where I can between the two restaurants he’s got now,” he explains to Carmy with a nonchalance, as if he’s not a restaurateur whose reputation precedes himself. 

“Ah, man. That’s cool. Well, you let us know if you need anything. I’ll give you mine and uh… Syd, you cool if I give him your number too?” Carmy asks, catching Sydney off guard. 

“What do you-, I mean-?” Sydney begins to ask, unable to hide her surprise. 

“Since he’s new to the restaurant scene here in Chicago. Can help each other out, you know?” Carmy returns, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I-. Sure,” Sydney nods, forcing a small smile in an attempt to shake the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look she’s sure her face has involuntarily contorted itself into. 

She watches her head chef carefully, as Carmy continues to interact with the restaurateur in a way that she’s never seen before. She’s never seen him this eager to try to impress someone—hell, sometimes she wonders if Carmen thrives on pretending like he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks—so it’s sends her head spinning as she tries to reckon with this newly-revealed side of her business partner.

“That means a lot. Thank you–the both of you,” The Restaurateur replies, genuinely, bringing her back into the conversation.

“Sure,” Sydney manages to get out, still caught up in her head—exploring this new side of Carmy she has yet to see. “Anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

“I’m at Amaru most of the time these days,” the restaurateur continues, his eyes shifting from Carmy then back to Sydney as he adds one last thing. 

“You should stop by sometime.” 

*

They exchange a few texts here and there, but it’s all business. 

Who’s your preferred vendor for kitchen towels? 

You guys see success with extended weekend hours? 

Thoughts on being open on Monday?

“He likes you,” The Pastry Chef insists one day, in between lunch and dinner service. Sydney quickly shoves her phone back into her apron pocket, as if she’s a kid again—one who’s gotten caught texting in class. 

“What? He does not! I-. This is-, it’s not-, we are two professionals… talking shop,” Sydney dismisses, because it’s easier to push those thoughts aside than to entertain them.

“Syd. He could be texting Carm but he’s texting you,” the her friend continues, completely and utterly unconvinced. Sydney finds herself on the receiving end that says, ‘cut the bullshit’ as The Pastry Chef continues. 

“Even if it is… just about work, I think it says something that he’s texting you, Syd. I mean, do you know how long it took me and Carmy to-.” 

“Okay, but not all of us are you and Carmy!” Sydney interjects, letting out an uncomfortable laugh as a means to break the tension. 

Off her look, her friend just chuckles with a shake of her head, reminded of a time that she too could live this far in denial. 

“If you say so,” The Pastry Chef resigns herself, accepting that she won’t make much progress on this one today. 

She waits a beat, focused on cleaning up her station as Syd unconsciously checks her phone to see if there’s a notification from a certain someone yet. 

“When are we going? To his restaurant, I mean,” The Pastry Chef speaks up again with a quirked eyebrow. 

Could she really have noticed that? Syd wonders. 

This time, Sydney only groans in response with a mumbled, “Fuck off. I am sick of you,” earning a bigger laugh this time from her pastry chef friend. 

But the conversation seems to be the push she needs. It only takes a week or so longer for their days off to align, and Sydney’s the one bringing up the idea: that they should do a happy hour at Amaru to “show support” (and nothing else — really, no ulterior motives at all). 

The Pastry Chef is more than enthusiastic about the idea, easily suggesting that they make it a girls’ night. 

Which is how Sydney finds herself here, seated between her two biggest cheerleaders, Sugar one side of her, and her pastry-chef-colleague-turned best friend, at the bar of the Pan-Latin American neighborhood spot. She’s sure that Sugar was recruited for said girls’ night, in an attempt to get a second opinion on whether the handsome, older restaurateur is or is not in fact, into her. 

She doesn’t hate the idea of it, for the record, but she wonders if they’re reading this all wrong—hesitant to get her hopes up.

But after the first plate—a gift from the kitchen—and the aperitif sent their way, both on the house, Sydney can only assume that The Restaurateur has something to do with it. 

Of course, it’s easy to chalk it up to good hospitality. After all, hadn’t they done the same when he visited The Bear, a few things on the house Carmy insisted they send out? Isn’t it customary? 

Sydney thinks back to how easily Carmy had given her number to the older chef, eager to extend as much support as possible to his previous mentor as he transitioned into the Chicago market. 

But he wasn’t texting Carmy all that much. Just her. 

She tries not to brush off yet another excuse: because she’s the CDC, not Carmy; because maybe he thinks Carmy, as the exec chef, doesn’t have the time when she does. Syd thinks she could go on and on like this, and instead, for a split second, she allows herself to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s because her friends aren’t all that wrong about this. 

“You’ll have to forgive me. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but. Well, you know how it goes,” The Restaurateur says, earning the attention of all three women. While he acknowledges both of her friends warmly, he makes sure to he’s look at Sydney as he concludes with: 

“I’m glad you came.” 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for everything. Seriously. Everything’s been amazing,” Sydney answers, wondering why it suddenly feels five degrees warmer inside of the restaurant.

Sugar snickers and the knowing look shared between her and The Pastry Chef doesn’t go unnoticed. 

She just might have to kill her best friends later for this. 

The Restaurateur smiles, and with a polite nod of his head, mutters a ‘thank you’ before her friends chime in with compliments, kudos, and their own respective ‘thank yous’ for the superb hospitality. Syd listens as he picks The Pastry Chef’s brain on their newest dessert addition, while Sugar enjoys what feels like a well-deserved second margarita. As The Restaurateur explains the most recent dishes he’s added to the menu since taking over as CDC, she notices that somehow, his focus and attention always seem to return to her. 

He can’t visit for long, The Restaurateur apologizes—it is a busy night of service—and before she knows it, he bids his goodbyes before disappearing to the back of the house for the rest of the evening. 

“Well he definitely likes you,” The Pastry Chef declares, as soon as he’s out of earshot. 

“Oh. So obvious,” Sugar adds with a knowing smirk as the two exchange the exact same glance from earlier

“I’m gonna kill you guys,” Sydney mutters, her head hanging low as she feels a heat rush to her cheeks. She can’t make eye contact with either of them—not right now—or she might just burst into flames. 

“Well, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you! That’s for sure,” Sugar clarifies, earning a nod of agreement from The Pastry Chef. 

“See! This is what I’ve been telling her since… shit, since he came to The Bear a few weeks ago!” the pastry chef exclaims, sharing another looking with Sugar. “I think he likes you and I think you like him.” 

Sydney opens her mouth to say something, but instead, just lets out an exasperated sigh, earning another round of giggles and exclamations of ‘I knew it!’ from her best friends. 

They don’t stay for much longer, knowing they’re all due back at the restaurant in the morning. The three women say their goodbyes before parting ways, and as Sydney sits on the train, on the way home with her phone on do not disturb, she notices a few notifications waiting to be read.

A text from Carmy about the prep list. 

The pics from tonight waiting for her to open in the group message labeled: Girlies.

And then, from the Restaurateur…

Thanks for bringing friends! It was great to see you. 

There’s a familiar heat that warms her cheeks as her fingers race to reply:

Thank you for everything. The meal was incredible. 

She waits before adding:

I’m glad we stopped by. 

And almost instantly, there’s a reply: 

Come back any time. :) With or without friends. 

*

Come back any time. With or without friends. 

The words linger in her head over the next few days. She lets them settle in, tossing them back and forth in her mind, while holding what feels like a fragile kind of excitement in her hands that’s somehow seemed to have buried itself deep inside of her. 

So he is flirting with you, she thinks to herself, coming to the conclusion that her friends were perhaps right about The Restaurateur. 

She doesn’t want to completely misread the situation, but she’s not sure how else she should interpret it either. 

It takes Sydney two more weeks to work up the courage to go back to Amaru on her day off that week. Part of her wonders whether it’s been too long—if she’s missed her chance—and part of her knows that in the business they’re in, the days blur together, and two days become two weeks, become two months, and that he probably hasn’t even noticed that’s been that long. Her and The Restaurateur are both on Kitchen Standard Time, right? She’s not sure what takes over her, but she’s somehow mustered up the cajones (she can practically hear Tina’s voice in her head as she hypes herself up) to show up, this time, without friends. 

Her risk does not go unrewarded, when he comes out to say hello. This time, he’s not alone, introducing her to his soon-to-be-business partner, Chef Cuadros, the owner of Amaru and his other venture, Bloom. They exchange pleasantries and congratulations (you know, over the huge fucking deal of an award she’s just recently won) before he pats The Restaurteur on the back, excusing himself back to the kitchen. 

The Restaurateur chuckles, noting how much he’s looking forward to joining Cuadros’ restaurant group. 

“Rodolfo’s a great guy,” The Restaurateur sighs, contently. 

“Yeah, he seems great,” Sydney agrees, almost just to be polite.

“Yeah. Really leads by example. Rare to find that in this industry,” he chuckles, before changing the subject. 

“Speaking of. Cuadros is closing up tonight which means I’m off, starting now.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. You wanna get a drink?” 

She doesn’t even have to think about it. 

“Yeah. I uh-, I’m in.” 

*

“It’s devastating!” The Restaurateur declares, the passion evident as the words escape his lips. 

“I mean, the transitions are a little choppy. And even they can’t take away the fact that: It. Absolutely. Without a doubt. 100% ruined my life,” Sydney wholeheartedly agrees, completely captivated this conversation—one that she finds incredibly sexy.

“I cry. Every single time,” the man that sits across from her says, a dopey smile plastered to his face and a heat to his cheeks from the second whiskey on the rocks he’s nursing.

“Every single time!” Sydney emphasizes, just to drive the point home. 

“Because, well-, I mean, they just can’t catch a break! Always just a moment too late. It’s like… well, it’s like they’re never supposed to end up together in the first place,” The Restaurateur clarifies, in reference to what about the film is so goddamn devastating. 

Syd nods with a sigh, examining the idea in her head cautiously, knowing that he’s right—even if she doesn’t want him to be. 

A beat. 

She leans in, the corners of her lips beginning to turn up into a smile. 

“Have you seen Chungking Express?” she asks, because she’s ready to start this whole thing over again. 

“Have I seen-? Are you-, of course I’ve seen Chungking Express,” the Restaurateur answers, building on their shared excitement about finding common ground outside of the kitchen. “I love Wong Kar-Wai so much I even put myself through My Blueberry Nights.” 

“Okay, chill. It’s not a competition,” Sydney jokes, earning a full bellied laugh from The Restaurateur. 

“You’re funny,” he states, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles back at her. 

Her heart skips a beat, her breath caught in her throat. 

The way he says it is genuine. It’s real. It feels… more earnest—more intimate than what should exist between two colleagues.

Then again, she didn’t exactly say ‘yes’ to drinks thinking it was just as colleagues.

“I-,” Sydney hesitates, scrambling to find the right words when it feels like so many of them could burst out of her at any minute. 

Instead she settles on, “Thanks,” feeling more like Carmy than she’s ever felt in her life. 

There it is again—that flutter in her belly. 

This man is most definitely flirting with her, a thought that only mildly causes her to panic. 

The moment feels almost too tender for either of them. Sydney shifts nervously in her seat while The Restaurateur takes another sip of his whiskey, before clearing his throat. 

“I uh. I should probably get going. It’s uh… yeah. It’s getting late,” Sydney says, finding the words to excuse herself. 

She’s not sure what she wants out of this—it’s maybe why she takes the out in the first place, thinking it may be best to end the evening here. Tonight was… more than she expected it to be, and she’s torn between wanting to stay and wanting to flee the great state of Illinois. 

Better pause while we’re ahead, Sydney thinks.

“Yeah, no, of course,” The Restaurateur agrees, easily, before insisting that he pick up the tab. 

“No, I-, I couldn’t let you-,” Sydney begins to argue. 

“Please,” he insists, his tone once again rendering her once again at a loss for words. “You’ve been more than helpful to us over at Amaru since the minute I got here. This is on me.”

*

Syd spends the next few days going back and forth over whether or not it—whatever the hell the other night was—would be a good idea. She eventually concludes that she can’t stay away—from the high, from the way he made her feel when he insisted on paying the bill (a moment she’s replayed in her head over and over again), from him. She doesn’t tell anyone: not Nat, not The Pastry Chef, and certainly, not Carmy. 

She sends the text before she can chicken out one Saturday night, as she finishes closing up. 

Heading to Green Door Tavern for a night cap. 

He puts her out of her misery, quick to respond as always, almost as if he was expecting her to (or waiting for her to, which, she decides is a little too much of wishful thinking). 

I was just thinking about you! Just rewatched 2046 the other night. Want some company?

Yeah. 

Let me close up. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way :)

The smiley face.

The fucking smiley face. 

She discovers that the same dopey smile finds its way across his lips as soon as he enters the bar. The two of them quickly find themselves in yet another deep conversation about foreign films over, for him, a whiskey on the rocks, and for her, a tequila soda. There’s that same buzzing in the air between the two of them—chemistry, one might call it—as they move from Wong Kar-Wait to Jean-Pierre Jeunet with an ease that feels good to her. 

Really good, actually. 

So good that as soon as Sydney realizes it’s getting late, she doesn’t run in the other direction. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but she thinks this time, she could stay. This time, she could talk to him till the sun came up, allowing herself to get lost in his soft brown eyes she finds more comforting than she should. It’s not till he brings it up that she notices again that: 

“It’s getting late.” 

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Sydney agrees, reluctantly, because she doesn’t want this night to end. Before she can say anything else, her body moves to get up, just half an hour away from last call. 

The Restaurateur stops her, reaching out a hand that feels warm against hers as she pauses, her eyes locked with his. 

“I hope it’s not uh, well, I hope it’s not inappropriate of me,” he begins, clearing his throat as he pauses. 

“No, I-, I don’t want the night to-, you know… I lost track of time too and I-,” she stammers through, unsure of what she wants to say. 

He smiles warmly, his hand moving to grab hers, as if, in spite of the fact that she can barely get the words out, he understands exactly what she’s trying to say. 

“You can say ‘no,’” he prefaces with, a sure nod as his gaze returns to hers. 

“Can I take you home?” 

And the only response that makes sense to her is the biggest, most enthusiastic:

“Yes.” 

*

Maybe it’s just a one time thing. 

Okay, a three-time thing, considering it happened that night, then two more times after the sun came up.

But to Sydney’s surprise (and delight) he texts her later that day, and the one (three) time thing becomes a one to three times a week kind of thing (schedules permitting, of course).

They fall into a rhythm—and she likes this rhythm—they cook, work at their separate restaurants, and then she lets him fuck her into his mattress like they didn’t just work their own respective twelve-hours shifts. 

The Pastry Chef lets out a laugh, noticing that it’s the third day in a row that Syd’s come in having ‘not gotten enough sleep’ yet still glowing. 

“How’s the sex?” she smirks, shooting Sydney a look. 

In return, Syd rolls her eyes, like she isn’t getting laid on the regular, her best friend waiting patiently for a proper answer. 

She checks over both shoulders to ensure no one else is listening before lowering her voice. 

“It’s the best sex of my life.” 

*

She finally moves into her own apartment a month later.

Of course, it’s a decision she’s made on her own volition and has nothing to do with the hot Restaurateur who seems like he might have some kind of staying power—the same one that’s giving her the big bang of orgasms, but that’s besides the point. 

No, it most certainly has nothing to do with that. 

With Chef Cuadros officially out on paternity leave, The Restaurateur somehow still manages to find the time to help her move in between running two restaurants while developing the concept for a third. 

It’s the first night he spends the night and they sleep—just sleep—since she started seeing him, though they christen the place in the morning. 

“We’ve been talking about a full nixtamalization program. For the new spot,” The Restaurateur explains over breakfast tacos one morning—ones he made for her in her new apartment because, of course, they had to christen the place in more ways than one. 

“Shit. That’d be dope,” Sydney replies, as they continue to bounce ideas back and forth. “Do you think you could pull it off in that small of a space?” 

“I’m so glad you asked!” The Restaurateur grins, before going into a near-monologue about the handful of creative solutions he’s come up with, eager to soundboard a few ideas off of her. 

But Sydney finds herself a little distracted. 

It’s not that she’s not listening… but she’s got something else on the tip of her tongue that she’s been holding back. The Restaurateur is in the middle of breaking down the logistics, contemplating whether or not they could pull off what he’s labeled, Idea B, when Sydney finally musters up the courage to blurt out: 

“I want to cook something for you. Like not in a restaurant, or anything. I mean. Here. I want to cook something for you here.” 

“Yeah?” 

A beat. 

“Yeah, I mean. It doesn’t have to be like-, I don’t know, this big thing or anything. But. You’re always cooking for me,” she explains, unsure of why she feels so nervous as she continues. “I kinda want to return the favor.” 

He only smiles. 

“Then it’s a date.” 

*

It started as the best sex of her life, but it’s as if he’s carved out a place in her life without her noticing, seamlessly woven himself into her life, and she, his, in a way that she can’t imagine what it was like before. 

It simultaneously excites her and makes her feel uneasy. 

Fuck. 

She doesn’t really even know what she should call ‘it’ anyway. 

They haven’t really talked about it—haven’t given it a label—but with shifts at The Bear for her, running two restaurants for him, and fleeting nights spent at each others’ places before it was time to do it all over again, it’s not like they’ve had the time. 

She finds herself in late Fall, almost Winter, all dressed with a newly-done silk press at yet another James Beard fundraiser. Her coat was checked in long ago as she bares her shoulders in the near-off the shoulder, gingham-printed dress, with The Restaurateur by her side. He wears thick-framed glasses, his white-collared shirt unbuttoned low enough that she’s more than ready to head back to her place to undo the rest. 

It practically gives her deja vu—the two finding themselves in an all-too-familiar place—as they stand across from Carmy and The Pastry Chef, sipping on their fancy champagne and making small talk to the best of anyone’s ability. 

“Hope you guys don’t mind. Can we get a few pictures?” the event photographer asks as he approaches, noting that a picture of this year’s Rising Star award recipient is a must on his shot list. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sydney replies, a kindness in her voice even through her discomfort. 

It’s not lost on her that Carmy’s more than relieved that he doesn’t have to be in the spotlight anymore, eager to step out of the way. 

She poses for a few photos solo before both Carmy and The Pastry Chef are encouraged to join in, taking a few more shots with her. 

“And then can we get one of the two of you?” the photographer asks, this time gesturing towards The Restaurateur. 

Sydney opens her mouth to protest, to let him off the hook, because what would that mean? Before she can say anything, The Restaurateur has happily agreed, wrapping an arm around her, his hand on the small of her back. 

She exchanges a look with him, something that says, ‘are you sure?’

He only nods in response, a supportive smile and a softness in his eyes that puts her at ease as if to say, ‘of course.’ 

Instinctively, she reaches for him, his right hand landing softly against his midsection. She feels the warmth of his palm as his hand slides up, landing somewhere above her wrist, making another point of contact. Well, now they certainly look like a couple. 

“Great! That’s great, you two,” the photographer grins after taking a few more shots, his eyes fixed to the screen on his DSLR as he plays back the last few photos. “Thanks so much.” 

What could this mean? 

What could this be? 

She doesn’t have all the answers. 

Not yet, at least.

But she’ll take a wild guess—one that fills her with a certainty that she can feel in her bones. 

Because tonight, he stood proudly by her side—his hands all over her as if she were his, in a photo she’s sure will make it out of Adobe Photoshop—meaning maybe, just maybe, The Restaurateur could be here to stay.

[dhorrl]

Initiation

MDNI 18+

Feitan/Original Character (I gave her a name after I decided to put descriptors)

Trigger Warnings:

BDSM

Knife/sword play

Blood play

Mentions of rape/pedophilia/torture (OC has a rough history)

Spoiler for the manga (death of a character)

AFAB/She/Her pronouns

Maybe others to be honest I tried to think of things that might bother people, but this is Feitan, you know what you’re getting yourself into.

I do have this as a sort of chaptered story saved somewhere, but I don’t know if anyone actually wants that or if they just want the smut.

Things had quieted down for the Phantom Troupe. Hisoka was still hunting them, but they had strength in numbers. Everyone rotated, staying with the boss, constantly two or three at a time, and always staying with someone else in the Troupe when not with Chrollo. They used this time to search out and find new recruits, ones with Nen abilities that would fill the gaps in their ranks, much to Feitan's dismay. He was still bitter about losing Shalnark, though he never let it show.

It seemed that, for now, Hisoka was laying low, although it was never a good idea to let your guard down with the sadistic magician. While he knew he was strong, even Hisoka was aware that he couldn’t take down the entire Troupe at the same time. Besides, his plan was to kill them all, one by one, to re-fight Chrollo on fair ground. His bitter desire for revenge fueled his patience. He also made it a point to kill anyone worthy of joining the Troupe, doing his best to prevent them from re-building.

Many of the new potential members that did make it through were vetted by Feitan. Chrollo wanted to ensure that anyone they added going forward could withstand endless torment since Hisoka was known to be vindictive. Who better to test them out than Feitan? The boss didn't realize Feitan used this trial to unleash his frustrations. Many were not leaving alive or in one piece.

"Feitan, I know I said to torture them, but perhaps leave one alive," Chrollo remarked calmly. Feitan replied, looking away from Chrollo, "They were not worthy. I only pushed to make sure they could endure it."

Still, he would attempt to present the boss with a new member soon. Phinks mentioned he had located someone with abilities that might throw Feitan for a loop, though he shrugged it off. He was starting to feel bored. The people making it through to him were not even close to being worth his time, and he had suspected for a while that Hisoka was behind it all.

Phinks ushered the latest prospect into Feitan's chamber within their warehouse on the outskirts of Meteor City. He was not predicting what he saw. This slim, petite woman, even shorter than he, stood in a black skirt, tank top, and combat boots. Her jet-black hair was back in a simple braid. Her simple attire stood to accentuate the sharpness of her jaw, the softness of her eyes, but those things were not what grabbed Feitan's attention. His gaze went to her arms and legs, entirely covered with scars. Anyone who received that sort of treatment from him would be dead. Yet, she glanced casually at the instruments around the room and the dried blood stuck to the floors and the wall.

“Hey, Feitan, this is Jun.” Phinks said. "Jun here is gonna be our new member, I'm sure of it."

Feitan snapped. "I'll decide that, Phinks. Did you give her the password?"

Phinks smirked. The interrogation strategy went as such; another member would give the nominee a word or phrase, and Feitan's assignment was to extract that information by any means possible. "Oh yeah, she's got it already. I won't give anything away, but she's gonna be a tough nut to crack. Good luck, Feitan." Phinks winked at Jun in his feeble attempt at flirting.

Jun rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Well, come on, let's see what you got." She beckoned Feitan towards her as she stepped to the center of the room. She almost seemed bored, as if she was testing Feitan as much as he was testing her. "So, Feitan, is it? Chains or no chains?" She gestured towards the ties around the wooden chair where he secured his marks.

Feitan's eyes tightened. He despised feeling like he was being told how to do his job. "Definitely chains," he said as he tied her to the seat. There was no resistance from her; she was almost helping as she moved her arms around into a perfect position for tying.

"Do your worst; I give you permission to do anything you like." Jun shot a look at Feitan. "Although I doubt you'll cross any of my lines. Punch me, kick me, stab me, burn me; it's all the same." She leaned against the chair with a heavy sigh.

Feitan felt suspicious; he was confident in his abilities to break anyone, but this person put him on edge. At the same time, however, he felt strangely aroused. She was beautiful, the mess of scars on her flesh only making her more so in his eyes.

He shook it off, reached for a blindfold, and covered and secured her eyes, preferring to give her no sign of what might be coming next. He closed his own eyes, reminding himself again to try and keep her alive. If she was worthy of the Phantom Troupe, then breaking too many bones or removing body parts wasn’t on the table. Still, dislocating a few joints was a different story, as well as deep cuts and wounds that Machi could fix up. Hell, if he did cut off her arm, Machi could just sew it back on. However, Machi was away on another job and wouldn’t be back for a while. He imagined the cut off parts would still need to be fairly fresh for reattachment.

Once he felt he had a good plan that didn’t involve tearing her from limb to limb, he balled up his fist, and punched her forcefully in the stomach. A direct hit like that alone would take down many a strong man, and that’s without using Nen. Jun gagged for a moment, the wind knocked out of her. Blood splattered from her throat. He smiled, watching as the warm, red liquid began dripping from the corner of her mouth. He thought to himself, “This won’t take long at all.” But then, he heard her laugh.

"That's the best you got?" she murmured through strained breaths. Feitan was enraged. He restrained himself from punching a hole through her chest cavity. He reached behind her, grabbing at her index finger and pulling it in a perfect jab, dislocating it from the joint. She yelped slightly, but then continued laughing. Next was the pinky finger, popping from the joint with a satisfying snap, then pressing down to increase the pain.

Jun knew she could take more because she already had. She thought back to her childhood. Ever since she was little, her father and his friends gathered and did evil, wretched things to her. Her mother looked the other way when Jun would come home with her father covered in bandages and bruises. But Jun was strong, strong enough to stay alive. Until one day, her screams and cries no longer satiated their desires. Jun was too old for them now. The day her father took her sister out of the house and came back alone was the day Jun lost herself. Her rage towards her father, mother, and the men who hurt her and her sister was too much. She swore to kill every last one of them... and she had.

Jun was a stubborn target, but Feitan had his share of those before and still managed to crumble their will. The difference, however, is he could always use threats of death, where here he was really having to restrain himself. Feitan continued, hitting her across the face, narrowly resisting from breaking her jaw. Again across the right side near her eye, then again on the left. Once he was satisfied with where he was, he snarled. "Tell me the password."

Jun was quiet, and he thought he was getting close to breaking her. Then the silence was broken by a maniacal laugh through heavy coughs. "Come on, little man, you barely got started."

Feitan grit his teeth. Jun was mocking him? "You talk shit, I see." His patience was usually so strong, but she was pushing his buttons. He grasped the small double-edged tanto from his pocket and impaled her in the abdomen. Jun let out a moan that echoed through the chamber, causing Feitan to take a step back. He'd heard many sorts of cries from his victims, but that was unexpected. "Oh, did I not mention? The more you hurt me, the more it turns me on." Her tongue darted out, licking her lips sensually.

Jun's laugh was full of her own insanity. To Feitan, the unhinged sound rang like music to his ears. He bore the knife into her throat. He had an idea that would probably end him, but he was losing control. "I'm going to make you tell me the password. But first, I'm going to have some fun." He drug the knife across her throat, not entirely through but just enough to make her bleed. She bit her lip, enjoying the sensation of cold metal through her skin. He persisted, cutting off her shirt and skirt keeping him from the rest of her tender flesh. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scars that littered the rest of her body, her torso and hips and even her back. He found a few areas where the skin had yet to be touched, and ran the knife across, barely pressing down to just break the skin. Jun’s body bucked into the knife, enjoying the pain and aching flushing through her body. She hated herself for how fucked up this all ways, how she savored and craved this feeling. As for Feitan, he felt awakened in a way he'd never quite experienced.

He leaned over and licked the blood dripping down her neck onto her chest. Jun’s body shook with desire. She had not been anticipating that. It caused an involuntary groan as Feitan's tongue glided through the blood and sweat.

"Fuck, I thought you were supposed to be torturing me, Feitan." She was panting, feeling the heat rising between her legs. Jun couldn't help but tease him, poking to see how much more he would give her.

"There are many types of torture, you know," he whispered in her ear, his deep voice giving her goosebumps. "I happen to be an enthusiast of all types." He pushed the knife back into his pocket and removed the blindfold covering her face. Blood was dripping from Jun's nose, and deep purple bruises formed over her face. Her right eye was swollen shut. He had done his best not to break her jaw, but he did some severe damage. Her seductive gaze drew him in closer, then she spit blood into his face.

Feitan stood there motionless, then brushed the blood from his face. He took her throat in one hand, pressing down on her windpipe. "Next time you speak to me, you will tell me the password." With his other hand, he parted her legs and slid his fingers into her core, surprised but pleased to feel she was dripping wet. She moaned hoarsely through his hold on her throat. He continued working his fingers in while sliding his thumb over her clit. He wanted to soak his hand in her, savor her forbidden juices with his fingers.

Still grasping her throat, he lightly released enough for her to take a deep breath, then pressed back. She leaned back, trying to use the back of the seat as leverage to grind harder onto his hand. She was so close to release, just a little further…

Feitan withdrew both his hands. Jun took a deep gasp, and tears welled in her eyes. He examined his fingers, dripping with sticky fluids. His fingers glided through the blood dripping down her chest and slid into her mouth, mixing everything together. He grabbed her neck and shoved his own tongue in next, wanting to taste the salty, bloody mix of fluids. Once he pulled away, she eyed him for a moment. "Fuck you. I guess you're really playing hardball now."

Feitan flew back at her. Within seconds he adjusted her chains, forcing her to the ground on her knees and securing her hands to her feet behind her. He removed his black overcoat and undid the tie on his pants. "Fucking brat, I told you not to speak unless you tell me the password." He pulled down the front of his pants and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking.

Jun drooled, astounded at the girth of the man with such a small stature. Feitan snatched her by the hair and shoved himself down her throat, acting as the gag to keep her from speaking again till he let her. Jun’s eyes were ravenous as she looked up at Feitan, who she noticed was cruel and sadistic in the best ways. He was like her personal demonic angel, supplying the suffering she yearned for. Jun could sense that Feitan was in his element, and so was she. She was suffocated by him, exhilarated that he was violating her in such a way. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, picking up speed with animalistic want. Watching the tears run down her face, he felt like a god among men.

Feitan could feel himself getting close. His body was spasming, but he continued to mangle her throat, even through her gags and heaving and watched her take all his creamy nectar. He withdrew his cock, and she looked up into his eyes, tongue out to show the finished product painted inside her mouth. The sticky cum was melting down her face, then she tucked it in to swallow, licking the aftermath off her lips. Feitan's perverted mind was ecstatic. "So, ready to tell me?"

Jun's eyes were glazed with submission. "I'll tell you... if you please let me cum, too."

“You act like you have upper hand here. If you want to finish, “he grabbed her by the throat, “you will tell me password.”

Hot tears were forming at the edge of her eyes, feeling the heat between her legs pulsing and close but not able to give her the satisfaction she was craving. “If I tell you, and you let me finish,” she whimpered, “am I still going to be a Spider?”

Feitan's primal urges opened up. He knelt in the pool of blood surrounding her and untied her chains, releasing her arms from above. Then he laid back on the concrete floor, unbothered by the horrifying mess that had been created. Jun saw her opening and crawled on top of him, hovering over his still erect member. She glided along the shaft, soaking it in her wetness before slipping it inside. It felt amazing. All the sensations of touch, taste, and smell she was experiencing were explosive. Feitan used his thumb to circle around her sensitive nerves, and Jun couldn't take anymore. She screamed loud, the orgasmic pulses shooting through her body. She crumpled forward, laying her head on Feitan's forehead. "By the way, the password is "password." Totally worth it, though." Feitan lay there quietly momentarily, then an honest laugh escaped his lips. He sat up, entangling his hands in her hair, and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I bandage you up. You bleed out."

Jun’s eyes sparkled. “Watch this.” She stood up, closed her eyes, and Feitan noticed the distinct glow of Hatsu around her. He tensed a moment, preparing for the worse, but relaxed when he saw the stab wound close as if it had never happened. Each open cut and scrape sealed. Once the last one disappeared, she released her focus and opened her eyes to see Feitan’s awed expression. He stood up and approached her, running his finger over the spot he had stabbed earlier. A faint, smooth scar was there. He noticed that all of the gashes he made were like that, like whispers on her velvety skin, but that others were raised and rough. He put together that those had to be before she developed her abilities. There were hundreds more scars like those.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. "Spider now. Let's do again sometime."

[pinkyjulien]

Just a heads up: you, a white creator, putting Native American/First Nations/indigenous inspired clothing on your white OC, and then calling it the "wilding" appearance, could be considered cultural appropriation and could also be considered offensive to people from those cultures.

And yeah, I am doing this from a throwaway account to protect myself because I know how Tumblr and the cyberpunk 2077 fandom works. Even if I do have a valid point or critique, I could still be attacked by "fans" on my main who refuse to use any critical thinking for themselves.

Safe travels 👋 I hold no animosity towards you personally.

(From a "cowardly" anon in an extremely hostile fandom which likely will pretend that this outfit and the name for it isn't tinged with implicit and internalized racism.)

(And, no, I'm not one of the so-called "housewives")

Hey Anon,

Not sure what to say, you claim to not hold any animosity towards me, yet this could've easily been a DM. I'm only assuming you're blocked and had to create a side blog to by-pass the said block.

If this was truly a well-spirited heads up, it would've been a DM.

But anyway, if you're here to accuse me in a sugarcoated way, I already know you're having the time of your life about it in some obscure discord server, so might as well.

The Aldecaldos (and Nomads in general of every clan and family) are multi cultured, there's people of every races, every ethnicities- we see it in game and it's mentioned time and time in the sourcebooks. They're communities, formed of many minorities; queers and pocs alike.

Valentin joins the Aldecaldos during the Star ending, just like the canon game event; he makes friends left and right, and friends makes gifts to one another. We also know that resources, clothes, cars, guns, are shared in nomad communities.

The name "wilding" is a direct reference to the Neo Tribe sourcebook, page 21. I used that same name for Mitch's appearance. They use those outfits to ride off near cities, just like the definition on the page below. They're both proudly showcasing their Aldecaldos colors in whichever place / cities they're visiting.

In my own canon, Dakota is kind of a mother figure for Valentin; she helped him after fleeing the Wraiths, she gave him his first gig with Jackie, she made sure the 'caldos ripper kept the bullet he revoved from Valentin's skull, etc etc

That Jacket could've well been a gift from her before leaving to Arizona, but I haven't decided yet. I was just happy to share my modding project of those past two days.

I've always liked Nomads and what they stand for, their diversity, their lives, their outfits and aesthetics too.

None of the above information is presented as an excuse, they shouldn't be seen as excuses either; I'm simply sharing what inspired me (actively or subconsciously) for this outfit.

If Valentin's appearance, both models and name, did actual upset anyone, I apologize, as this obviously WASN'T the intention. If it does bother you, I invite you to block me.

With all of the "explaination" out of the way; why are you really here?

Because we both know you already knew that about the Aldecaldos. You played the game, you know Panam is half native, you know there's a bunch of native characters in the Aldecaldos and in the game in general.

This ask isn't fueled by kindness or by an attempt at educating someone who could've made a simple mistake.

Nope, you're simply part of this "hostile fandom" problem. Everything you said in brackets reeks of past drama.

Again, you claim to not hold any animosity, but I believe otherwise; that's totally fine, but refrain from contacting me with this fake benevolence, everyone can see it's bullshit.

Repeating myself, this could've been a DM, yet you choose to assume I have some "internalized racism" that You Need to point out, doing so via a side-blog supposedly out of fear (since I don't know who you are, I'll choose to believe you simply by-passed a block) while also dragging in the "Housewives" for no reasons.

You're part of this fandom problem. You're part of the reason why nobody feels safe about sharing anything; you and your friends are out there spying, monitoring what everyone does, assuming the worst at any given occasions and ready to write callouts, to throw witch hunts.

Please, do some critical thinking yourself, remove all the bias and all the "Pinky Bad so this is obviously Racist" bullshit fogging your brain, and ask yourself why you really sent that ask.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

My esteemed Shay and Arno mutual!!!

Just read your post and I must ask you for a lovely fic of our beloved Irish lad Shay with his lady love Constance. I haven't read any of them since your OC is recent. I would love to read a one-shot from them and with your writing I'm 💯 sure it will be a beautiful work.

Thank you so much!!! Sending you good vibes, a hug and a truckload of coffee to fuel the muses! 🫂

Hello, hello, my mysterious mutual! Thank you so much for dropping this in my inbox, and for giving me a chance to write and share something for Shay and Constance! ^_^ (Seeing this message made me realize that while I've been working on their story behind-the-scenes, I've never actually posted any writings for them. lol) The vibes, hug, and enormous amount of coffee is also appreciated; thank you! I hope you enjoy this little fic! <3

A/N: Given that it's been so darn hot here lately, and after seeing something about oyster shells being used as 1700s Christmas decor, I just HAD to set this in the wintertime! Also, this takes place at a point in my AU where Shay is starting to develop a crush on Constance, and they're finally starting to get along properly. (Also, also, "Craven's Crossing" is the name of Constance's farm.)

December, 1756 The Beach at Craven's Crossing

"Have you found enough shells yet?" Shay called out to Constance, his teeth chattering as the wind off of the water was starting to pick up, chilling the air even more.

Winter had come - the time to decorate for the upcoming Christmas season - and with that, came for searching for oyster shells on a snow-dusted beach for Constance's wreaths.

Shay agreed to help as a favor to Colonel Monro, whom Shay recently learned had a special affinity for the young woman - though whether the affection was one of one friend towards another or a suitor seeking a bride, he wasn't sure.

The current hunt soon came to a halt when Constance called to Shay to come look at the nearly open oyster she found, which contained a familiar bauble inside - a newly-formed pearl.

"What are you going to do with it?" Shay asked, his curiosity now peaked and the cold forgotten.

She tilted her head, considering, before an idea lit up in her green-gray eyes. "Well, you've been such a help to me today..." she grinned as she held the pearl out to him, "...so, for you; for Christmastide."

"So, I'm your servant now?" Shay chuckled; "besides, it's too early for that."

His laughter soon died down and once more, there was a few silent moments of reflection, before Constance humbly asked, "how about a peace offering, then?"

Shay nodded - but when felt Constance's fingertips press into his gloved palm, he again remembered Monro...and as Shay returned her soft smile, he hoped, to his own surprise, that any feelings the Colonel had for her was nothing more than friendly.

[brooklynisher]

Here's a bunch of old sketchbook doodles I made y'all

Stick around bc this includes my first SPG drawings!! (Before I joined Tumblr)

Riveting start

I'll start off with little drawings I made of myself. And my god do you see what I'm doing with the anatomy? Do you see how tiny those joints are? That's horrific. Why did I build everyone like that? But Yugo is where I began to find my art style. Will love them forever for that. I've got to go back to simple-shaped heads one of these days and blush/eyelashes on everything

We've got some lovely Smile For Me-related doodles. First is a Flower Kid design. Second was not smile for me specifically, but Face Love (by the same devs). And the last two were my earlier attempts at making comics and scenes. Ft. lancer for some reason.

Here are a couple of abandoned OCs. Pretty boy (Basil) is supposed to be yellow. We've all had that OC whose only trait was being a hot person and that's what he was all about. Didn't develop him much in terms of character which is sad because I kinda like his design. He was created when I was doodling random designs in FireAlpaca. I'll have to show the other doodles in a different post (If you are interested).

THIS GUY I WOULD LIKE TO BRING BACK! Might be kinda basic in terms of like "Weird Core" designs but I still love him. His plot keeps changing though because his design is so strange yet so simple to the point where I could put him in just about any world I wanted to had I gotten bored of the old one. Which is silly bc he's just a depressed news anchor man.

Anyway bc of that, Basil used to be his bf, but isn't anymore. He got replaced with fat peppermint man who fun fact: was inspired by the song Brass Goggles BEFORE I even got into SPG and learned what it was about! How silly is that! Peppermint boy is technically my first SPG OC!

She was a fun one, but I abandoned her too. I think she was too influenced by Frye's character from Splatoon. She was a warrior of sorts. Sort of tribal I suppose. She spoke fast, and in her tribe's language, so many people struggled to understand her. She was very bouncy too. Jumping all over the place. If you know Frye, you'll probably notice that they're a bit too similar to each other. That's usually why I abandon my OCs. When they're too similar to another.

Critter I doodled. Not really an OC, but I still think she's cute

Don't ask me about the first guy. The girl was a mii that was born in Tomodachi Life! Her name is Lily. She is the child of Kris (Deltarune) and Hatsune Miku. She looks silly which is why I love her.

I'm Picasso. Kinda vibe with this ngl. Not sure if I could ever turn this into anything though

Here are some low-effort doodles. Enjoyed the design of the big lady more than I thought. I was practicing drawing bigger bodies at the time. Joints are still KILLING ME but it's not bad considering I had the worst anatomy method imaginable

Here are some higher-effort doodles. Aside from the abhorrent anatomy (WHY DOES THE PIG ZOMBIE HAVE TWO DIFFERENTLY SIZED SHOULDERSS????) I quite like these critters. That mermaid girl had lore too. She could control the dead of the sea. She was lowkey evil. Never turned her into anything though. Also, you can see by that guy at the bottom of the first one, that Bunny's art was starting to take an influence on me.

Lots of stuff going on over here but LOOK! MY VERY FIRST SPG FANART! IT'S OF VI POINTING AT AN APPLE AND YELLING AT IT

I was inspired by Bunny to make these monster-ish-looking people

More thingies! There's the goopy robot which I initially drew as a first attempt at drawing a robot, but then I made it black and goopy bc that's what it was giving. The star guy appears and disappears a few times. I think I wanted to keep them, but the design was very similar to LightLazer so I felt a bit weird about drawing them.

More robot shenanigans. First time drawing Rabbit and The Spine! Cannot believe that my first Spine drawing was in a dress oh my god.

More Bunny-inspired drawings and I'm REALLY kinda digging that weird tiny robot critter. Looking at it now, it's kinda like Spring in a few ways, but it's also completely different from Spring in so many other ways. The limbs are retractable. I kinda like this thing actually. I Oughtta do something with it.

These ones are more SPG-specific. You'll have to forgive me, most of these are from memory. Don't ask me why Rabbit looks like David Bowie in the first one.

And finally, some Rabbit and Spine doodles! Rabbit's doing the "Hey Andy Sweetie" meme. I could totally reattempt drawing that today actually.

Anyway, hope you had fun. I did. Ugh this is so sillyy

[ei-w]

Ora (OC)

Below, you can find an extract of her character. Once, I'll colour the sketch, but for now, let the words speak instead of me about her.

tw: noncon (briefly referred), character death

-- -- --

"I'm not sure whether this is the best timing to share her story, youngling."

"Please, I need to know."

Maybe it was the boy’s impending death, becoming a ghost soon, evolving into an eternal being and sealing his future of becoming the Master of Time, at the cost of his freedom, that made Frostbite listen to the whispered plea. Otherwise, he must have preferred another day to go into these depths. But there was no other chance for this talk either; he had to respect his wishes and keep his promise.

After sighing, Frostbite took a long look at the runes on the wall of his infirmary chamber and decided the boy deserved to know his past, no matter what. He couldn’t withhold the truth for eternity. Frostbite felt a debt to her to tell her story. For now, his distress of losing her had to be set aside to open that wound for her son; the tale began.

"Her name was Ora. She was one of us, one of the ancient spirits of the immortal realm, beyond knowledge, beyond worlds... Ora, however, craved learning. She curiously descended to deserted lands, seeding the roots of vitality and following the changes that her presence evoked. She cherished observing the passing of days, weeks, months, years and decades after her footsteps. Centuries later, new creatures emerged. She longed to visit humans, the beings similar to us yet far away from our principles.”

Frostbite remembered that despite the council denying her claims of her essential nature to venture her absence, Ora never faltered. Even after countless refusals, she remained enthusiastic. She never stopped trying to find a solution to leave the eternal realm safely.

"Her oath and duty was only to be a witness and guide life. But the mortals’ appearance tainted her; she could not bear the pain of staying. She could not explain it to me, but she had to go. Her powers became agitated the longer she remained in the eternal lands. Time felt slower and restive, slipping out of her control. I crafted a relic to preserve her mortal body as long as she kept it safe: a vessel, a talisman with a sparkle of her ability, able to lead her back to us but also anchoring her there until necessary. Time stopped here when she left, yet I felt her end through the Halt. And we mourned her."

The boy blinked slowly. His shoulders seemed to slump with the weight on them about the sorrowful fate he knew, too.

"A man leading armies captured her, perceiving her nature as beyond human. The same man you must know well, too—from who you fled nineteen years later," Frostbite explained. But he knew the youngling only had vague flashes of memory about his before.

Perhaps it was a blessing not to remember, but not knowing was also a curse. It spared one pain but robbed them of self-awareness. Dealing with Time always exacted a price, unspoken but demanded from its weavers. It cost the boy his prior memories.

"The man seized the relic, taking your mother as his prisoner. He exploited her foresight, harnessing her nature, among other things that benefitted his mortal desires. Ora was augur until she thought she would be valuable and capable of holding on to regain her freedom. But her powers soon changed. It was altered by the lack of her talisman, but also differently. In her womb, she started carrying a diviner who challenged her seeing. And while her ability channelled through, her eternalness waned as time passed."

Frostbite glanced at the boy, staring into the blurry eyes that now gleamed gold, events unfolding before the young eyes. Past was always too painful, but they both knew he couldn't stop at this point. The boy must have also understood, bracing himself for the rest of the tale. Frostbite continued in a gentle voice.

"You were born August. You were her hope, her anchor, and the bearer of Time as her descendant. Until she nourished you, your connection remained. Then, your father's advantage vanished, and his failures in war escalated. Your mother could no longer ensure his victory. The premonitions became unstable and unclear along with your upbringing. He raged."

Restraining triumph in the final moments of achieving absolute power from those who thought they were destined to be tyrants and conquerors of lands always led to a grim outcome. No obstacles could survive that perfidy.

"Then he must have seen something in you, a reflection of him in your features perhaps or a strike of vision you showed him clearer than Ora... he didn't need your mother anymore. Instead, there was a child with golden eyes seeing Time, too, telling him his future, while the other was an impostor, nothing but a drained, empty vessel. That little boy, his blood, her divine reverberating in a fresh flesh on the other hand… was a precious trophy, a mouldable legacy of seer no one ever had."

Frostbite solemnly concluded the tale. "Ora couldn’t return to us, but we remember her sacrifice, bringing you to us. It took some time, but her message was clear: we must find balance—a bridge to ensure our safety. And now, as you become one of us, she lives in you. You are Time like she was, but also more than that. Ora shines in you."

Frostbite didn't need to say anything more, but the addition floated between them nonetheless: By helping us defeat Pariah, you will bring final safety to our people, fulfilling her purpose of existence.

[ominous-feychild]

✦ OC In Three 8 ✦

GUESS WHAT WE'RE BACK TO JUST BECAUSE I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF MAKING AESTHETIC BOARDS FOR MY CHARACTERS???

(And maybe I kinda sorta already made these for an unrelated thing and thought I could/should just go ahead and make another one of these with it, haha.)

Today we've got more of the Arcane Rifts's characters! They're all major characters within the story, but not main ones, haha. Except maybe/probably Nikolai? I'm not sure about him tbh. He's either major or main.

NIKOLAI BORISYUK

OSKA ISAKOVICH

RIEKA

LIESEL

Uh oh! Good Cop Nikolai's gotten caught in the middle of a bunch of members of the khonitva! What is he going to do???

More seriously, haha, I absolutely love these guys' vibes! I'm not sure when I'll release the post with these things but I wanted to share their little moodboards, so here we are!

Since I've gotten into the habit of talking about the characters for these things, how about I give you guys some quick summaries on these guys' characters?

Nikolai is Kavo's chief of police, and is widely liked by the general population despite their overwhelming distrust of Kavo's government! He's a vykolt (ice mage), an extremely competent fighter, and generally a charming guy! I love him.

Oska is the leader of the khonitva (the main gang plaguing the town of Kavo at the time of the story)! He's been in it since its earliest days, before the dismantling of the pugabiytsy, and only became the leader after the death of his brother 5 years before the story takes place. As the images (hopefully) imply, he's an ominous figure who plays chess! Wait, no. (*checks notes*) Looks like he's just a chessmaster-planner type!

Rieka is the khonitva's healer! She has blood magic which she's able to use both to heal (duh) and offensively! Like the MC Tazin, she appears to be Jhandan and faces discrimination for it--especially within the khonitva itself. Luckily for her, Oska doesn't seem to care about that! (Anymore.) While a sympathetic character, Rieka is also a beast--she'd be able to easily beat every single one of the other thus-far named characters in a fight (except for Nikolai) and yet... doesn't? Instead sits around letting the khonitva mistreat her??? Wonder what her deal is. 👀 (I also love her. Almost as much as I wouldn't approach her with a 10-foot-pole!)

Liesel is unofficially (but widely-accepted as) the second-in-command of the khonitva. She's been been working for them almost since the beginning and is even preferred to Oska by most of the gang. Except... problem. Nobody knows who she is. Again--she's been in the khonitva since its early days, and yet the entire time she's been there she's always been masked. Wears a fabric mask over the bottom half of her face and a domino mask over her eyes, together hiding all recognizable features of her face and separately protecting from a situation where one is removed. Why in the world would she be in the khonitva for so long, and yet still be so paranoid about her true identity being found out?

OC In Threes: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Part 6 | Part 6.5 | Part 7 | Part 8

Tagging list (no pressure!): @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @paeliae-occasionally @aalinaaaaaa @48lexr @huewrite + open tags!

Divider by @saradika

[glittter-vamp]

CHAPTER 8

Joe Burrow x Bisexual OC.

Warnings: 18+MDNI. Angsty. SAPPHIC SMUT.

Word Count: 3.1k

Body Move by Dizzy Fae blasted throughout Valeria's Condo as she cleaned up. It was a nice Saturday morning and she took it upon herself to clean up her space being that it was as cluttered as her mind has been lately. She was organizing her insane collection of shoes in her closet when her phone rang interrupting the music that was playing through her apartment since her phone was connected to the soundbar in the living room. Sighing in annoyance, she walks from the spot in her closet and retrieves her phone that was sitting on her stripped bed due her sheets getting washed. Seeing the caller ID she sees its Summer which still catches her off guard seeing her name on her phone. They had swapped numbers the day Summer arrived unannounced to Valeria's door with the flowers Joe hated.

"Hello?" Val answers the call. 

"Hey! I hope I'm not calling at a bad time." Summer replies seeming a bit nervous.

"You're not, what's up?" Val asks as she looks at the mountain pile of shoes she was donating, she couldn't believe how many shoes were stuffed in her closet. 

"I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a bite with me, there's this Mexican spot one of the construction guys suggested to me. I'll buy! " Summer asks. 

"Oh um, well what time did you want to meet up?" Valeria looks around her mess, she definitely needed some time to arrange all this. 

"How about 4ish?" I'll text you the address, it's not that far from your place.." She says. Val could hear the smile in her voice which made her smile too. 

"Yeah that's fine, I'll see you then!" Val agrees. It had been a bit since Val had seen Summer. She'd been super busy with the development job she's here in Cincy for and Val was also super busy with the store. It was finally June so, it was pride month and Kade & Elsa's idea was popping off better than any of them expected. They were all pulling early mornings an late nights but everything was going pretty well for the most part. Sure there were trolls on the company's Instagram and even google reviews but the support surpassed the hate by a lot and that's what everyone had decided to focus on. Val even had customers tell her that she'd inspire them to come out to those around them which shocked her considering the circumstances of Val's sexuality coming to light wasn't really ideal for her. 

Agreeing on the plans, Summer and Val hang up and she continues her cleaning. It was only 10AM now so Val had plenty of time to clean and then get ready later. But, as she was finally finishing up on her closet she received yet another call, this time a facetime from Joe. Taking a deep breath she answered.

"Hey!" Val answers with a small smile on her face. 

"So much for calling me back yesterday." Joe gives her an unimpressed look and Val grimaces completely forgetting about that. 

"I'm sorry! I got caught up with the store and didn't get home until 11PM. Once I came home I showered and knocked out." She says looking at him with a sorry look on her face. 

"It's okay, I knew you were already busy there when I called. But, how are are things going?" He asks he looked like he we at the gym and was sweaty as one could be after a workout. 

"It's been busy but so far so good." She nods. 

"I'm glad to hear it, you've worked hard for this...which is why I think we should go out to celebrate." Joe suggests and Val looks at him crazy. This was so out of the blue she wondered if she even heard him right. 

"Since when do you want to go out to celebrate anything, especially with me?" Val asks scoffing making Joe roll his eyes at her comment and reaction. 

"Are you busy next weekend? I sort of made us reservations at the Marble Room." He smirks. 

"In Cleveland!? You never even go past Columbus." Val says shocked. 

"I wanted to try something new with you and treat you to something nice. So what do you say? I think it'll be fun, you also deserve some time off and away from everything." Joe says. 

"Joe...we talked about boundaries last week." Val sighs. He knew better than to do something like this after the conversation they had and both agreed on.

"C'mon Val, I'm giving you what you want and it's still an issue." Joe sighs rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

"I need to know you're doing it because you want to and because you're over this whole, keeping me a secret stuff. Not because you want to win me over and go back to how things were. You know that's not an option. Plus going to Cleveland means an overnight trip and we both agreed on no sex again while we're figuring stuff out." Val shakes her head. 

"Who said anything about that? and I'm not dumb, I know you're hooking up with Summer anyway so of course you don't care to have sex with me." Joe says which annoys and upsets Val. She knew Joe was pity because she wasn't falling for his little game.

"I'm not hooking up with anyone Joe, you need to stop with the shit about Summer. I don't bring up the model from Miami and throw it in your face so you shouldn't do that to me!" Val argues back. 

"Because she's not in my life! Summer is in yours and I know she's working at an angle here. Especially now since she knows about us and our rocky relationship, this is the perfect time to sweep you off your feet." Joe says making Val roll her eyes at him while trying to keep her cool. 

"If you're going to keep up with this we should just call it quits right now because I don't appreciate you acting like this and accusing me of having sex with Summer when I haven't even seen her in weeks and the last person I fucked was you." Val snaps back over Joe's shit.

"There's just no way I believe that, after that video at the club Val. We agreed on dating other people if we wanted but I don't buy that she's not over there at your place late at night or taking you out to places." Joe shakes his head. 

"Then our conversation here is done here, bye." Val says hanging up on him. Val was now livid at Joe at the way he kept throwing this in her face. Yeah she cheated but so did he and she wasn't being petty like he was throwing that stuff in his face like he was to her.

**************************************************************************

"Smells like lavender in here, I love that scent!" Summer smiles as she walks into Val's place. They had just gotten done with their meal and drinks at the Mexican restaurant which was great, Val made a mental note to go back their with her friends soon. 

"When you called me I was cleaning every inch of this place so that's why it smells decent" Val chuckles shutting the door behind her. 

"I'm so glad my job is playing for my stay and I have house cleaning, with the amount of work I need to get done in one day coming home to a clean hotel room is sooo great." Summer teases. 

"Lucky! Maybe I should invest in housekeeping around here." Val pouts making Summer laugh. 

"We should of stopped for some wine! I'm dumb, we literally passed by a liquor store too." Summer says sitting on the couch. 

"I have two bottles, both red. I always have back up, did you forget whose house this is?" Val smirks. 

"You're the best. Reminds me of all the secret bottles of Vodka you had in your room because Gen and Karina would always drink yours if you let them in the kitchen." Summer laughs at Val as she walks over to the kitchen to open a bottle up winking at her. 

"So, now that you're out and proud, are you going to the pride parade this month? I saw a flyer for it at the club the other night, its next Saturday." Summer asks as Val pops open a wine bottle and gets two wine glasses from her cupboard.

"I was thinking of it. The gang wants to go, are you going?" Val asks her. 

"Eh, don't know what I would do there alone other than see the parade." She chuckles. 

"You can come with us! I'll keep in contact with you about it, we're coordinating outfits with some for the stuff from the store, I'll keep you in the loop." Val says bringing over a glass of wine for Summer. 

"Sounds fun, thanks!" Summer smiles as Val sits at arms reach next to summer on the couch after handing her drink. 

"So, how are you liking Ohio? Making you want to move back after all these years?" Val teases. 

"Hell no, my family came down from Columbus and they were asking me the same thing. I love California too much to ever come back here." Summer shakes her head before taking a sip of her wine.

"I haven't been in a while. I should go, I miss Disneyland." Val says before sipping her wine. 

"There's so much to do in Cali and you want to go to...Disney...you have not changed." Summer laughs. 

"I've only been to Disney once! I deserve to go again." Val shrugs not feeling ashamed about wanting to go to Disney at her adult age. 

"You should have your rich NFL boyfriend take you. I think they do private tours, I think he could afford that." Summer giggles sarcastically. 

"Yeah... that's sooo not happening. He is not happy with me and I'm not happy with him." Val snorts taking a generous sip of her wine remembering the stupid argument they had today. 

"You guys haven't made up?" Summer asks and Val shakes her head no. 

"We had an argument today actually so... nope." Val lets out of a breath. 

"Sorry to hear that...can I ask about what? Maybe I can give some advice...if you want it of course. I know you must be really trying to salvage the relationship after everything which is understandable." Summer shrugs taking a sip of her wine eyeing Valeria. 

"You. We had argument about you today." Val chuckles. Summer freezing and giving her a confused look. 

"He thinks we're having sex. Plus he's basically is in a competition with you for some stupid reason. He thinks we have something going on and I won't admit to it." Val says rather nonchalantly. 

"I mean...I guess you could see where he's coming from because of the video and our history but I'm sure you've told him we haven't done anything, he should believe you. you've been honest so far with him, he has no reason to doubt you right now. " Summer shakes her head. 

"Yeah, well he doesn't and its annoying and pissing me off. I don't know how much more of this shit I can take, I tried but I think it's really done. Trying to glue back the pieces isn't going to work if the cracks are still visible." Val admits suddenly feeling very sad about the situation and reality of it. 

Summer doesn't say anything except give Valeria a look of sympathy and pats her hand. Val gulps down the rest of her wine and gets up to get a refill offering Summer one which she gladly accepts. After one too many wine glasses and those margarita's they had at the restaurant, Val was starting to feel the liquor a bit. She wasn't drunk, especially no where near like the night at the club but she was starting to feel a lot more comfortable around Summer and had forgotten about Joe for the time being. She was finally letting lose which resulted in feeling like her and Summer hadn't stopped talking in all these years and forgetting about how wrong she did her all those years ago.

"It's 10:30PM and I really don't think I'm going to be sober enough anytime soon to drive myself back to my hotel. I really shouldn't have had the second bottle with you, I'm driving a company rental." Summer says checking her phone seeming uneasy about her being tipsy at the moment knowing she had to leave soon because it had gotten so late. 

"Just stay over, I have plenty clothes you can borrow to sleep in...you can even shower if you'd like too." Val says setting the empty bottles of wine down by the trash can to take out tomorrow. 

"You sure? I wouldn't want to make things even worse between you and Joe...I can just uber and pick up my car tomorrow. It's no biggie." Summer bites her lip still feeling uneasy about the situation. 

"Of course I'm sure and If he already thinks there's something going on between us then it doesn't really matter now, does it? Now come on, we can watch Freaky Friday like we used to when we were supposed to do homework or study." Val says smiling at Summer and walking to her room. Summer follows Val into the the as she starts to go through her drawers finding something for Summer to wear. She picks out one of her old Ohio State oversized tees and hands it to her.

"Here, you can shower first. I'm gonna finish cleaning up the kitchen in the meantime, then I'll take a quick shower and we can watch the best movie ever made." Val smiles at Summer who chuckles at her excitement. Summer agreed to it and Val does as she says. 

"Sounds like a plan!" Summer chuckles.

***************************************************

"Jamie was so damn hot in this movie. Talk about a fucking MILF!" Summer shakes her head in disbelief as they watch Jaime Lee Curtis go off on the guitar in the house of blues scene of the movie. 

"She really was." Val agrees as the lay next to each other in bed, rather close with the lights off. Summer and Val give each other both a smile before they slowly lean in and connect their lips. Summer slipping her tongue into Val's mouth immediately and straddling Valeria. All she had on was a shirt and no pants or underwear so Valeria could feel her wetness on her bare thighs. It had been so long since Valeria had hooked up with a woman, it's like she needed to get it out of her system. All the memories of their college nights together came running in both of their minds, feeling the familiar soft feminine touch of each other.

"Wait--Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to regret anything..." Summer asks, her eyes scanning Valeria's face for reassurance. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." Val smiles brushing a strand of hair away from Summer's perfect face before leaning in and kissing her again. They both undress from their pajamas leaving them completely bare and both girls take in each others bodies for the first time in so long. It was almost like it was their first time ever with each other all over again. 

"You look even more gorgeous than what I remember." Summer whispers kissing Val's neck, moaning softly at the feel of her lips going gently down her body.  Summer starts giving her love bites here and there as she always did with Val, devouring her body. Biting and sucking on Val's breasts, her hands went down finding Val's clit making her moan and buck her hips at the sensation. 

"I really missed hearing that sound come out of you, it's music to my ears." Summer smirks before sucking on one of Val's nipples. The sensation of Summer rubbing her clit and sucking her nipple almost sent her over the edge right there. 

"Can I taste you? I just know you still taste so good." Summer whispers kissing Val's chest gently as she looks up at her with eyes full of lust. Val nods a yes as she bites her lip awaiting for what's about to come. Summer moves down and settles in between her thighs, kissing them slowly and leaving bite marks between them, before her tongue slowly swipes between Valeria's wet folds making Val moan, throwing her head back in pleasure. 

"Oh! Fuck...Summer..." Val moans louder than she anticipated. She had forgotten the insane tongue game Summer had and wasn't expecting this type of intense pleasure from her.

Bringing her hand to Summer's long luscious hair, which was cascading over her face, Val pushes it away from her face to see her, her face was only dimly lit by the tv in front of them but Valeria couldn't get enough of seeing Summer nose deep at her core. Summer batting her big brown eyes at her knowing it made Val even more turned on by her. Sucking on her clit, Val struggles to maintain her hips still as the euphoric feeling started to already build up inside her. Summer grabbing ahold of her hip to maintain her in place with one hand. She then slipped two fingers with her free hand inside Val's wetness thrusting it at a perfect pace, as her mouth was still on her. Which, was enough to send Val over the edge and reach her orgasm. 

"Shit...oh my god..mmph." Val moaned and bucked her hips uncontrollably as she reached her high. Summer smirked as she wiped her face off and then seductively sucked the juices off her finger making eye contact with Val who was still catching her breath and coming down from her orgasm. Val forgetting about any relationship problems, let alone Joe. 

"Tell me when you're ready for round two, that was a good warm up for my Jaw and hands. My god do you taste better than I remembered..." Summer smirks. 

A/N: Well...things just got a whole lot messier.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hey, I can see you're busy, but I know you like to see our OCs and I finally have two of them finished, at least their profiles. I don't have any sketches of the sort yet. Anyway, I'll send them seperately bc, as I said before, they are pretty damn long and I was not sure in the slightest what to cut out. I had a lot of revamping to do since I started these years ago and now that season 1 is out and done, changes needed to be made XD. Anyway, here's the first one and I'll send the second one shortly. Changes may be made in the future, but this is in fact the bare bones of the character and I'm quite proud of it :D.

Name: Jeanette “Jean” Sawyer

Gender: Female Born in: 1956 Died in: 1973 (age 17)

Cause of Death: Suicide/Hypothermia Height: 5’2 (alive), 5’10 (current)

Appearance:  pale blue skin; black hair with white frosted tips on the end; eyes with icy blue sclera and a white iris; body type on the slender side, inverted triangle body type; forearms are larger than normal with white scars going down the length; often seen wearing warm clothes and arm warmers Species: Sinner Nickname/s: Jean, Jeannie, Shrimp, Kid, Kiddo, Shortstack, Toots Likes: cooking, skating, milkshakes with french fries, mini golf, listening to music, watching movies, carnivals, singing, dancing, trying new things, board games, cats, people watching, anything soft and warm, stargazing, camping Dislikes: the Vees (Vox and Valentino in particular), the cold, the dark, her arms, pineapples, most electronics, being the center of attention Sexuality: Lesbian Sins: Suicide Job: Hazbin Hotel Patron Background: It is difficult to get a grasp on what kind of person Jean is at first glance considering how much distance she puts between herself and others. In life and in death, stability was a luxury that Jean never truly had, making it difficult to open up to others, let alone fully trust another person. The only trustworthy constant in her life was her hardworking mother, whom she always looked to as a role model, confidant, and caretaker. 

Life was rather difficult, but both felt that having each other was all they needed. One day, Jean’s mother died, leaving her with nobody to care for her. For two years after, Jean was passed around in foster homes where she was beaten, scolded, and (the final nail in the coffin) had a foster parent attempt to sexually assault her. In a flash of panic, she killed her would-be rapist and she couldn’t help but fall into despair, deciding to take her own life after fleeing the current foster home in the middle of a blizzard. 

Upon entering hell, Jean was more confused and helpless than ever. Once her first extermination came around, her mother found her and brought her to safety where they would essentially live life from where they left off. Jean rarely went out on her own with the fear of the sinners often leaving her frightened for herself and her mother who often left to provide for them both. At a sudden point, her mother seemed to vanish for a few days before returning to her. Things seemed to change after that. It seemed her mother was bringing in more money than ever before, leaving them much better off; however, many things felt off as well. For one thing, her mother seemed to be more on edge. She also wouldn’t allow any electronics other than what she tinkered with and any time Jean ever went out, she never went alone. Then one day, her mother never came home and couldn’t be contacted. Concerned for her mother’s wellbeing, she searched for any leads and she found one in her work-related files:  a business card belonging to VoxTek. 

Upon entering Vee Tower to inquire about her mother’s whereabouts, she was swiftly intercepted by Vox himself. He told her she was indeed in the building devoting herself to a new project he put her on and offered her a tour as the daughter of one of his ‘top employees.’ She hesitantly accepted, wanting to heed the warning her mother gave of interacting with strangers yet drawn into the shiny new world she had just entered. Jean had never seen technology so advanced before and began to wonder why her mother never showed any of it if she indeed worked there. The answer became all too clear once two people inserted themselves into the situation:  her mother, who found out she was there and rushed to protect her, and Valentino, who spotted the young sinner with no master and was drawn in immediately.

One thing led to another and, upon Valentino harming Jean, her mother incapacitated both of the overlords in order for Jean to escape. Unfortunately, her mother was not so lucky.  For ten years going forward, Jean lived in hiding and fought to survive on the meager resources her mother stashed away and what little she could receive from her via care packages. Jean often read the hand-written notes her mother included with them in order to feel close considering the danger of meeting with each other in person. Even from a distance, her mother always relayed the same message, which was also the last words she ever heard from her mother:  ‘Keep your soul. Don’t trust these dealmakers.’ 

After some time, Jean accidentally trespassed onto the turf of a mysterious entity (at least as far as the other residents of Hell save for a few were concerned). She was quick to find out the entity’s true identity:  a powerful sinner named Sibelle, a girl around her age that perished centuries ago for witchcraft. She allowed Jean to stay in her territory and over time, the two grew extremely close even to the point of Sibelle wanting to make a deal. Jean was quick to try and decline until she heard the terms of the deal:  Sibelle was offering her soul and in exchange, Jean was free to summon her and use her power so long as it wasn’t for selfish reasons. In the former’s eyes, the latter would be able to call on her should she need help while she was outside the territory. As Sibelle would explain, her power is prone to force her into violent rampages and she had been in search of someone she had full trust in to form a soul contract with in order to keep her in control. After a while of asking, Jean had been worn down and accepted the deal. Not long after, Jean had decided to move on despite Sibelle’s protests and pleads to stay for her safety. However, she was sure that she couldn’t stay forever as she was now determined to find a way to free her mother from her contract with Vox.

One day, Jean encountered Charlie and Vaggie as they were recruiting patrons for the hotel. Charlie was more than eager to drag her along and talk Jean’s ear off about her idea and, with the short amount of time they had known each other, that she’s positive that she had an excellent chance at redemption. Mainly because of curiosity, hope and really having little else to do, Jean accepted and moved into the hotel to see she was one of two patrons. Once Alastor and his crew enter the picture, she does feel her walls coming down and finally confides in Angel Dust about her past, feeling he would understand considering their connection with Valentino. In Angel’s words, if Valentino ever found out she was there, it wouldn’t be from him.

Outside of redemption exercises, Jean can be seen throughout the hotel interaction with the other residents doing a number of things such as:  playing cards with Husk, babysitting Fat Nuggets, and being Alastor’s unwilling little helper. She would grow especially close with Angel Dust and Husk, growing to see them as an older brother and father figure respectively. Personality: As previously stated, Jean faces some serious trust issues due to lack of stability in her life and (the very obvious) trauma inflicted on her by those she was told she could trust. It would take a great deal of work and time to break her walls down, which is honestly what she is hoping to find (basically, too afraid to initiate steps to build trust and needs others to take the first step…s). She’s quiet, almost to the point she sneaks up on people and spooking them with no intention to do so. Many initially found it creepy save for Alastor, who found the startled reactions to be quite amusing. 

Despite this, the persona Jean puts on in front of others is one she copies from her mother:  a no-nonsense spitfire that refuses to submit to anyone. Of course, it is merely a front she copies as she’s seen her mother use in order to deal with the more threatening individuals. Dying at the age she did, Jean did find it easy to be rebellious though it clearly proved to be her downfall many times. Although her age makes her more prone to naivety and recklessness, it does allow Jean to remain open to new ideas (hence willing to try redemption) and not become set in her ways like a lot of adults tend to do with age. Unfortunately, this also means that Jean’s younger mind isn’t able to handle emotions and stress as well as an adult would, making her prone to emotional outbursts and meltdowns. 

Habits & Quirks: 

Jean wears arm warmers constantly even if she is wearing long sleeves

Is a quiet person to the point where she ends up sneaking up on people

Is always cold, most likely due to dying partially to hypothermia; strangely the intensity of how cold she feels depends on her mood

Has a terrible sense of direction. One of the very few reasons she owns a smartphone is for the GPS. It’s also why she studied astronomy when she was alive in order to read the stars for direction.

Trivia:

Jean has a baby face, making her look younger than she actually is. It’s especially amusing when Charlie practically exclaims “not in front of the baby!” or “she’s just a baby!”  while covering Jean’s eyes and/or ears. It can be quite embarrassing yet she can’t help but feel slightly flattered. But mostly frustrated and embarrassed.

Jean gives nicknames to all her friends and family, using them in her journal and as their contact name in her phone. She rarely addresses them with these names in real life, but likes to do so on occasion

Charlie:  Princess Bedhead 👑🥱

Vaggie:  The Warden ⚔️

Husk: ♣️King of Clubs♣️ (AKA ♥️Dad♥️)

Jean is seen to be very sentimental. Considering how little she had in life, it made sense to her to place value in the very few things she did possess. Her most prized possession is a photograph she managed to hold onto as she died of her and her mother at their local state fair. 

Since the confrontation with Vox, Jean had developed an aversion to most electronics, even the ones not developed by VoxTek. She still gets anxiety any time she has to pass by any screen.

STOP WHY CAN I PICTURE HER AND FAT NUGGETS CUDDLING I CAN'T-

[oph3liatlou]

— THE SHADOW WARRIOR series

CHAPTER TWO; Quinnjet

pairing(s); recovering!buckybarnes x oc!victoriastark

warnings; light swearing

word count; 1,363

proofread?; yes.

note from author; link to wattpad, link to character's spotify playlist (comment songs also!), find the full masterlist here.

summary; In the depths of Africa, the mysterious nation of Wakanda has reached out to the outside world for help. A mission has been set in place for Victoria Stark, to save Bucky Barnes - the former brainwashed assassin - from his past self. Can she rescue him from HYDRA's grips as the world watches and waits or, will he forever be lost to the shadows?

Victoria had to get ready for her mission that she had been tasked with. She headed back downstairs to see her father, who had just finished fixing up his suit.

Tony turns around as you enter the workshop, wiping his hands on a rag. "Done pouting upstairs?" He's trying to keep it light. The tension between you has been growing for months. He needs to fix it, but he just doesn't know how.

She rolled her eyes. Their relationship was always sarcastic banter but sometimes, he didn't agree with her decisions. Especially when she avoided his monthly functions. "I wasn't pouting." She stated, leaning on one of the shelves. "I got a mission so, scratch my name off the guest list for tomorrow night."

Tony's smile fades. He looks at you for a long moment, his expression going tight. He's not happy about you skipping yet another event. But rather than start an argument, he asks instead, "Where are you headed?"

"Wakanda." Victoria answered, not elaborating.

Tony's eyes widened, a slight flicker of surprise crossing his face. Wakanda? He hadn't expected that. "Why?" He tries to keep the tension out of his voice, but there's no hiding the concern in his eyes.

She was happy that her father hadn't started giving her attitude about her not attending the party. "Steve's friend, Bucky." She started to explain. "He's in Wakanda, the Princess is treating his conditioning - trying to demolish the Winter Solider." Victoria shrugged. "You know me and advanced technology. He thought I could help...and he wants a friend there."

Tony's worry eases slightly. He knows about Bucky, of course. The Winter Soldier, the infamous assassin. Helping to undo what HYDRA did to him wasn't something he objected to. And he understands the need for support.

He gives you a small nod. "Alright. Keep me updated. And...Victoria?" His voice goes soft. "Be careful."

She nods, turning back to the door. "Oh, and I'm bringing FRIDAY with me."

Tony raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement returning to his expression. "Bringing the bots, huh? Trying to show off your tech prowess, aren't you?" He smiles, glad to see you a little more lighthearted for the first time in a long while. "Alright. Just watch out for Wakanda's tech. They've got stuff that will knock even you on your ass."

Victoria chuckled at his comment. "You better up your own game, then." She rebutted.

Tony gives you a wry smile. "Don't worry, kid. You forget who you're dealing with here. I'll have some new goodies for when you return."

He crosses his arms. "Now, get out of here. Before I change my mind about letting you borrow Friday."

She grinned. "Yeah, yeah." And with that, she left the workshop - her feet echoed on the floating stairs that shifted under her feet as she made her way to her room to get her gear.

As Victoria ascended the floating stairs to her room, thoughts of the upcoming mission start to swirl through her mind. She begins packing her gear, making sure she has everything she might need in Wakanda. As she sorts through her supplies, a mix of anticipation and apprehension fills her. The unknown always holds a thrill, but it's also a constant reminder of the dangers that lie ahead. Despite the nerves, she can't help but feel a sense of excitement.  She's eager to see Wakanda's advanced tech and how it compares to Starks. As she packs, she notices two pictures. One is of her as a kid, asleep in her dad's embrace, and the other is her and Tony, taken not long after, on their first successful mission together. They're a team. She smiles softly before placing both pictures safely inside the bag.

With all the essentials packed, she heads towards the garage. The Quinjet is waiting for her, already fueled and prepped for takeoff. As she approaches, she can see the familiar shape of Friday's housing unit being loaded into the jet. 

"All ready to go, Tori?" She asks, her voice filled with anticipation. "I've already downloaded a comprehensive database on Wakandan technology. It's quite impressive."

Victoria nods gently, though Friday can't see her. She was secured in an earpiece in her ear. "What else should I know? About Barnes, about Wakanda...?"

"Barnes' condition is improving with the help of Wakanda's healers and tech. They've already managed to dismantle some of the indoctrination that HYDRA instilled in him," Friday informs. "As for Wakanda, they value their privacy and highly protect their technology. The Dora Milaje, the warrior women, are formidable and will likely keep a close eye on us both." She pauses. "Oh, and the food is fantastic."

Victoria chuckled. "Sadly, I'm not going there for the food." She paused when both her father and Steve stood at the entrance of the Quinjet.

Tony and Steve stood near the Quinjet, watching as Victoria approaches. Tony's expression is a mixture of concern and pride, a look she's seen time and time before. Steve, ever the serious one, nods in greeting. The two men can't help but worry about your well-being, especially for this mission.

"I'll be fine, yeah?" She said to the two of them, in reassurance. She turned to Steve. "I'll bring your best friend home."

Tony gave a small nod, his expression softening, but the worry remains in his eyes. Steve, however, gives a small, almost imperceptible smile of approval.

"We know you will," he reassures. "Be careful in Wakanda. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Victoria nodded. "Sure thing." She went to go into the jet before turning back around and hugging her dad.

Tony is taken aback by her sudden show of affection. His eyes widen slightly before he quickly composes himself. He hugs her tightly, ruffling her hair affectionately. It's a rare moment of parental vulnerability from him, and he cherishes it.

"Stay safe," he whispers, holding her close for a moment more. "We still have plenty to argue over when you get back."

She chuckled. "Yeah, like who let you wear those shoes."

Tony playfully rolls his eyes.  "Kid, these shoes are a fashion statement. You wouldn't know style if it smacked you in the face." Tony pulls back, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looks down at his worn-out sneakers, a comfortable staple in his wardrobe. "Besides, these are just... comfortable."

Steve, still standing nearby, can't help but chuckle at the exchange between the two. It's moments like this that remind everyone of the family bond they've formed over the years.

Victoria walked backwards onto the boarding ramp and snickered. "You do realize, I'm the one who did most of the draft designs for your suits?"

Tony gives her a mock-indignant look, his hand over his heart. "Are you saying my suits are outdated?" He feigns hurt, though the playful glint in his eyes reveals his true feelings.

"Maybe we should leave the redesigning to the professionals," he quips with a grin. "Besides, we can't all pull off the casual sneaker-and-suit look."

Steve piped up, waving goodbye to me with a chuckle. "You definitely can't, Tony."

Tony rolls his eyes but can't resist a smile. "Keep it up, Cap. I could always program Friday to play baby shark on infinite loop in your helmet next time we're in the field."

"Hey Friday, keep that as a note." Victoria chuckled loudly...getting onto the Quinjet.

Friday's holographic form appears, shimmering beside you. "Noted," she assures Victoria, her voice filled with digital amusement. "Any other requests for Captain Rogers, while you're at it?"

Victoria smiled. "I'll think of something."

With a final farewell wave, the Quinjet's door seals shut behind her. She's enclosed in the sleek interior, the hum of the engines signaling that the adventure is just beginning.

As the Quinjet soars into the sky, heading towards the unknown lands of Wakanda, Victoria is filled with mixed emotions: excitement, anticipation, and a touch of anxiety. But as long as she's got Friday and her wits, she knows that she's ready for whatever comes her way.

[marchdancer]

So somehow the whole story got a bit out of hand. After I reworked Kayra a bit with Picrew(I based myself on the beautiful picture of @tired-reader-writer and changed her eyes and hair and why is her hair so difficult???a bit to make her earring stand out better. I also changed the design of this one again.) I decided to make another OC or to finally give them a face (I will probably rework them again but for now I am very happy).

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1855819%23google_vignette

The first one is Amalia. She is also a slave in Shapur's household and Kayra's best friend since childhood. She was born into slavery and knows no other life outside of slavery. She is a rather quiet person and carries out her tasks conscientiously and properly. She can become very strict if tasks are left undone or not completed immediately. Over the years she has worked her way up to the position of housekeeper (is that what you call it?) and is now basically the boss of all the slaves. She married another slave from Shapur's household and together they have a daughter.

The next one is Nasha, Amalias daughter and nine years old. She is a complete tomboy and is always giving her mother a headache because she rarely behaves like a young girl and certainly not like a slave. She loves her mother's stories about Kayra and idolizes her (so it's no wonder she's temperamental). Even though she doesn't know Kayra personally, she is her biggest fan and hopes to be able to travel with her someday. She loves Shapur and Isfan and keeps trying to persuade them to take her hunting (after all, she made Shapur promise that she could go with her when she turns 13). She will play an important role in the story.

The next one is Ashina (the name means the she-wolve). In my AU she is Isfans mother and for Kayra like a substitute mother after she lost her own. I tried to give her a few characteristics of Isfan, like the color of her eyes and hair. I have to say that I'm pretty happy with how Ashina turned out. I think she radiates something simple and yet beautiful and motherly, just like I imagined Isfan's mother would be. Of course, that's my idea and everyone can have their own and implement it. That's the great thing about fictional characters.

The next one in the list is Yamin. His name means the just. Unfortunately, he will play a tragic role in the story and will encounter betrayal. Even if, from his perspective, it is justice. I don't want to give too much away here, just that he is also a slave in Shapur's household and is two years older than Kayra and was or still is in love with her. Just like Amalia, he was born into slavery and worked his way up under Shapur and now holds a high position within the household, which has also allowed him to ally himself with the Lusitanians. But as I said, I don't want to give too much away.

The next one is Lady Ziva! Dhe is Shapurs mother and I try to make her a little bit dark and I think she has something witchy about her. She looks beautiful but I try to put a lot of jewelry on her to show that she is more the material type and I think when I look at her and then at Ashina I think they are two sides of a medal.

Both beautiful women but Ashina is more natural, she has more lightness. Ziva on the other hand has some dark aura around her something heavy. (Don’t know if this makes sense).

I am not quite sure with her eye color. For now I decided to gave her the eye color similar to Shapur.

So the next one is Shapurs grandmother Halima. Her name means the gentle/the friendly one and that was her nature too. She was the exact opposite of her daughter-in-law and her youngest son. In my AU, Shapur inherited most of his traits from his grandmother, in addition to some of his uncle's characteristics. He also had the closest relationship with her. She was his confidante and advisor. She was the good soul of the house and was also friendly and respectful towards the slaves. She immediately took Kayra into her heart and immediately recognized that she was different from the others and made sure that she received a good education.

And the Last one is Lord Mert and he is Shapurs and Isfans uncle and the older brother of Lord Shapurs father. He was an commander under King Osroes and also Shapurs and Kunards teacher. Sadly he died really early when Misr try to invade Pars. He was a very good and cheerful person but also very cheeky. He didn’t get the chance to meet Isfan but he loves Shapur as if it was his own son. He never married and so after his and his brothers death Shapur became the new heir of the family. Also Shapur never really got over his uncle's death, probably because he was closer to him than to his own father and his uncle took better and more loving care of him.

[breezypunk]

Welcome to my blog! Here you can find all the things I post about (and I post a lot, it's a blessing but mostly a curse). You've been warned.

I'm a 20 something year old whose addicted to caffeine and cyberpunk 2077. You will find mostly CP77 content on this blog, but I also post Good Omens, which is my comfort show. We also shit post here. You get a little bit of everything when you come to my page. (You're sure to leave with a chronic case of whiplash).

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

TAGS: OC's

Here are the links to all my tags. Starting from my most used and beloved tags.

My Cyberpunk 2077 OC, Vaughn Leblanc. He is as precious to me as precious comes, he's all over my page, he is my number one, my main squeeze, my kiddo. ♥

2. My Cyberpunk 2077 OC, Maggie Borden. My best girl, and while I do have a few Fem V's running around NC, Maggie will always have my heart.

3. My Cyberpunk 2077 OC, Layn AKA Mercy. Originally created for mod refit purposes, she quickly grew on me and I've loved her dearly since. She's also the only OC who can put up with Johnny Silverhand, and also put him in his place.

4. My Cyberpunk 2077 OC, JV AKA Jared V. I wanted another male OC, and JV kind of appeared in my lap and I fell in love instantly. He's around, lurking in the shadows a lot, but he's there. ;)

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

TAGS: Ships

My Cyberpunk 2077 Ship, otp: Golden Hues. Originally called "disaster boyfriends" and for good reason. I refuse to tag that old ship name xD and don't you go looking for it either. Romantic partners, Goro Takemura & my OC Vaughn Leblanc. Running the Badlands together like the coolest nomads you ever did see. (My ship heavily leans Nomad Goro, with some occasional downtime in the city). My #1 ship, and my most cherished ship yet. They own my heart entirely. ♥

2. My Cyberpunk 2077 Ship, otp: Rebels With A Cause. Romantic partners, Johnny Silverhand & my OC Mercy. I don't have a whole lot in their ship tag right now, hoping to change that soon with my growing love for Johnny. These two are insane (affectionate).

3. My Cyberpunk 2077 Ship, otp: Knives Out. A fairly new ship involving Patricia from Maelstrom & my OC, Maggie Borden. Also not many photos, but they will be appearing more often very soon ^_^ These two can be seen around Northside, probably covered in blood, probably carrying at least 2 knives on them at all times. Opposites also couldn't attract anymore than with these two.

TAGS: Mods

Here you can find the link to my google drive where all my mods lie peacefully. These are way older, mainly replacer mods, some decor/prop stuff. The google drive is no longer being updated as I don't make replacer mods anymore, but it's there in case you want to go snooping ;p

Here is the link to my nexus page, where all my current mods are, up and active and partying away.

Lastly, in collaboration with Anrui, my modding partner, all of our mods can be found here. I've linked our atelier, there you can find everything we've made so far. Plenty more will be added :)

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

COMMISSION INFO:

Screenshot commissions are open indefinitely. Here you can find the info that will tell you everything you need to know, including example shots, just so you have an idea of what my style is and if you're interested. :)

Examples: (Full size on google doc).

More misc. tags under the cut ♥

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

TAGS: AU's

I've made a few AU's involving Vaughn & Goro. I've had so much fun making them, and more may be coming. But here are my favorites.

Zombie AU: Fallout 2077

Corpo AU: Omerta/Vampire AU

Street kid AU: Dreamer

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

TAGS: Picrews & Tag Games

Picrews

Tag Games

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

TAG: Random Moments Series

A small series of short photosets consisting of Vaughn and Goro's daily lives and how it brings them closer together. ♥

Random Moments tag

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Tag: Photostories

I'm a huge whore for photostories, I make a lot, it gives me joy and it puts my creativity to the test. Some are short, some are long, but they all have special meaning to me. I'm super proud of all of these and I can't wait to completely fill this tag up.

Tag: Breezy's Photostories (note: I made more than what is tagged, sometimes I forget to tag it with this, oops..)

If I left out anything I will be sure to edit. I just really wanted to properly make this post, mainly for me, but for anyone else who might be interested.

[musashden]

Oliver Croix 2024

Well... I'm officially in a X-men '97 brainrot. It's my favorite show right now and I'm loving it. Thought I'd go back and give my OC Oliver a new character sheet and update his look yet again. And yes... there will be some pics of him and Nightcrawler coming very soon :)

Oliver has been with me for a very very very very long time. I created the first version of him sometime in 2004. Fun fact - Oliver used to be a girl named 'Drake' who resembled a panther. Pretty sure she was still Sabertooth's daughter that was adopted by Wolverine for some reason. She wasn't French and to be honest she didn't get along with Nightcrawler at all. Their story was definitely the 'friends to lovers' trope - I can assure you it was badly/hastily written and more than likely didn't make any sense because I wrote it when I was 17. Not sure why I scrapped that version but eventually I did and came up with this look - a boy named Oliver Croix who resembles a siamese cat. I really wish I could remember what made me change him so drastically but I've been rocking with this guy since then. The first pic I posted of him here has a date of 2005. I might do a color swap or comparison to Drake if I can find her original pics.

The only thing that's really changed this time is his ears. I found a really good tutorial on anthro ears and thought it looked better than what I had for him before which was basically elf ears. His eyes are also different - I really love it when characters' corneas are a color other than white - I just think it's cool. So I made his a lighter blue than his eyes. And... I gave him toe beans like a real kitty!

Back in 2017 I rewrote Oliver's story when I found a site to read comics for free - and his story had a soft ending at about 35 chapters! You can read Oliver's story here! 

Here's to another 20 years of Oliver!