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rdiowx · 2 years ago

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FRANKENSTEIN FRANK IERO

Now posted on my ao3: Cndlewax

Frankenstein frank iero x gn! Reader

Ik i said this would be longer but I’ve been working on this for days and i actually dont know what i was going to do with it lmk if i should go on with the series

Now i when was trying to figure out which Frank era would fit Frankenstein i was thinking revenge so thats what i went with and is described here. However now that i think about it, Leathermouth and danger days wouldve been viable options (WHY DIDNT I DO DANGER DAYS IM LITERALLY SOBBING)

Reader is technically Frankenstein and Frank is Frankensteins monster, its like 1930s id like to think because of the 1931 Frankenstein movie, Reader is a mad scientist, Reader is lowkey kinda insane im not gonna lie (because who thinks of this kinda thing), Mikey shows up i just feel like he’s Frankensteins assistant Material, kind of detailed mention of limbs being sewn and stapled together, i mean technically Frank is put in an electric chair…, usage of Y/n,(i do plan on making this a series however if i do id probably move it to ao3 and it would be random chapters of teaching frank random things).

The village ‘mad scientist’ also known as Y/n, You had been rumored to be working on something for years, and you have. Today it should finally be done. You were currently hunched over your project, a man covered in staples, stitches and all sorts of other things. You make sure each limb is sturdy, sewing or stapling multiple times if you have to. When he comes to life —and you will make sure he will— you wouldnt want him to fall over. You need to make sure he can hold his body weight up. you are pulled out of your focus when you hear the lab door open, “I’ve brought good news.” Mikey exclaimed, holding a larger than average beaker in his hands.

You broke out into an extremely unsettling smile, Mikey only smiles back, used to your behavior having been friends with you since you were kids. “Did you get it Mikey?” You asked, at the edge of your seat, He only nods in response. You laugh and spin in your chair towards him, you grab and kiss his face enthusiastically. He playfully gags and wipes his face, having set the beaker down at your work table.

“What would i ever do without you Michael?” You exclaimed, Taking the beaker and quickly making your way to your experiment. Using your lab table to set him at a 90 degree angle you took the top of his head off, you needed to connect his brain stems. You needed to detach multiple places in order to do it, luckily you thought ahead and thought not to stitch these places before hand. Mikey made sure you had enough light to complete this task, holding a simple flashlight above your work area.

After attaching everything correctly you stapled and sewed, it would be a shame if all your hard work went to waste due to some poor patch job. You had been working on this for years, and finally you could finish it. You had done this once before, not anything near as big as this project, but on a salamander when you and Mikey were 16. The day you revived that salamander was the day you earned the ‘mad scientist’ title. “We’ve waited years for this Mikey, i dont think i possibly couldve gotten this done without you.” You said, wheeling over the machine that was going to bring your experiment to life. Mikey smiles proudly as you looked his way, quickly moving to your side as you waved your hand for him to come to you.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Mikey teased, smiling your way before putting his metal goggles —which you made to fit his glasses perscription because he complained about not being able to see every time— on for protection and stepping away from the now powered up machine. You only smile in response, putting your metal welding headgear on before pulling the last lever. The light from the electricity filled the room, you were sure any nosy civilian would be curious if they were outside right now. Turning off the machine you lift your headgear off before checking your experiment. Seeing his fingers twitch filled you with hope, a quiet groan filled your ears looking over, Mikey had a smug look on his face. You looked back towards the now living thing, His hazel eyes looking straight forward. “I feel like he needs a name, what are you thinking?” Michael asked, tilting his head before taking his goggles all the way off and setting them aside.

“Frank.” You replied simply, taking in the mans appearance.

He had a slight green discoloration, covered from head to toe in stitches and staples. you could see the stitches make indents and stretch his skin as well as with the staples, you were lucky he didnt have pain receptors or this would be a lot harder to pull off. A simple screw on the side of his head it was a decently sized one but not huge, maybe as big or slightly bigger than your hand. It was a screw that required a Phillips screw driver even though it was turnable by hand, his eyes had bags and his hair was greasy. His hair was nothing you had seen before, the sides were a light blonde and he seemed to have a mohawk but it was slicked down by the sheer amount of grease that had built up over the years and the front of his hair sat in the middle of his face. He was wearing an old suit you found in your closet, you dont know who it belonged to but you didn’t exactly care all that much. He looked to have had piercings from were you stapled his face, But it kinda fit him after all you could always fix it later. After a while you realized you would have to teach him how to do things again, he’s not what he once was. “Alright (Y/n), i have to go. Gerard is waiting for me to get back home and its getting dark.” Michael informed, hanging his lab coat on his designated hook by the door. “Be safe Michael, wouldnt want to lose my favorite lab partner.” You laughed, Michael rolled his eyes on the way out but not before shouting “im your only lab partner!” You could swear you could hear him mumble a quiet “Im your only friend at that.” Making you roll your eyes, you couldn’t be mad if he was right.

Now you were sat in your lab with your own creation staring back at you. ‘Lets see what you can still do.’ You thought to yourself before walking around to the still seated man. You lifted his arm to see if he could hold it up, He turned his head to face you and surprisingly he could, these are great signs. you sat in your spin chair and rolled your way to your clipboard that was on your desk. You needed to write stuff for your experiment down, right now you were the happiest you had been in years. You couldn’t suppress the slight smile on your face as you tested the staple covered man. After finishing your tests you wanted to move on to his speech, since you were the one who put him together you knew he was capable of doing so.

The only problem was you didnt know how, sure you knew how to talk but you didnt really know how to hold a conversation, if it wasn’t for Mikey you dont think you would talk at all if it wasn’t to yourself. Being the village scientist meant you were always in the lab, you hadn’t talked to anyone but Mikey or sometimes his older brother Gerard in years. You dont even remeber the last time you even left the lab, it was your house and Mikey did all of your errands. You supposed you could start with the basics, ‘hello’ or your name maybe even his. If you started with hello you’d have to explain what a greeting is, if you started with your or his name you might have to explain what a name even is and how to use it. You hadn’t noticed the man move from his spot, you were so busy staring off into space you didnt notice the prominent frown on your face as you stared at the wall. When you finally snapped out of it you panicked as you watched the man touch stuff on your lab table, almost spilling a tube of something before catching it and looking at you with guilt ridden face.

You quickly made your way to him, taking the tube out of his hand and putting it in its correct place. “Um, okay don’t- don’t touch anything on this table..got it?” You spoke, gently steering the man by his hand to sit at your desk chair. You pushed him into said chair maybe a bit rougher than you meant to, however he didnt seem to mind. “Okay.. your name is- can you talk?” You asked, you couldve maybe put in a little more effort but this was your first time doing anything like this. You only got a head tilt in response, it was like he could understand you but he couldn’t answer. You furrowed your eyebrows, Your reaction caused him to frown a little. “‘My name is Frank’ Can you say that?” You questioned, he could only get out ‘Frank’. It wasnt much but you could work with it after all you weren’t sure of what he was capable of, Sure he had human parts but he wasnt fully functional right now.

“Frank, frank is you.” You stated, pointing a finger towards him. “You?” He questioned, his index finger now pointing towards himself. You smiled before shaking your head, This caused Frank to smile as well however he looked sort of confused. You tried again pointing your finger towards him, “when i stick my finger out towards you it means ‘you’, when you stick your finger towards yourself it means ‘me’.” You stated, a look of realization crossed his face before he pointed to himself again. “Frank is me?” He asked, letting out a noise of what seemed to be happiness after you confirmed it. He was going to be trouble but you knew it was worth it, after all, you wanted this.

#mcr x reader #mcr x reader smut #frank iero x reader #frank iero x reader smut #mcr smut #frank iero smut #mikey way x reader #gerard way x reader #frankenstein frank iero

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nerevar-quote-and-star · 1 year ago

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I was tagged by the delightful @miraakulous-cloud-district to share different lines from my fanfic, I Didn't Know You Were Keeping Count. I'm long-winded, so you get paragraphs instead! Isn't that fun?

Warning for, well, Bishop.

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

An exchange between Leara and Bishop in Chapter IV: Lark, continued, because Leara slays. I didn't realize how good some of my dialogue is until I read this passage.

“What’s the thread and needle for?” Bishop asked as Leara began to count out the correct number of septims. “Are you going to darn my socks?”

“Darn them yourself,” Leara sneered as she packed her purchases into her bag. “This is in case someone rips you a new one and I have to stuff your guts back inside you and sew you together.”

Behind the counter, the clerk snorted. Bishop scowled at her, and the girl’s ears turned red. He faced Leara, who made no effort to hide the amusement on her pale golden face. “Laugh now, sweetness, but we’ll see whose getting stuffed later.”

“No one, if you miss another rabbit and we have to go hungry again,” she wagged her fingers at him, dancing around his innuendo. “Now, quit scaring the shop girl.”

A line from your fic that makes you sad

In Chapter III: Hawk, Leara is recognized as the Dragonborn, and yet she struggles to believe she's worthy of it. This self-doubt follows her through subsequent chapters. This is when I really start to explore how Leara feels about being Dragonborn.

Her soul felt heavy, too. After laying the ghost of General Talos’ sword brother to rest, a melancholy pain filled her that was completely apart from the heartache borne from Sky Haven Temple and Delphine’s jaded words. The younger Blade didn’t acknowledge her as a Knight-Sister and had little faith in Leara’s ability to walk the destined path of the Dragonborn. With the fate of the world on her shoulders, Leara doubted her own abilities too. No one knew more than a Blade what being Dragonborn meant. Their order spent centuries guarding the Dragonborn Emperors and over a hundred years after the death of Martin Septim watching for the next Dragonborn. No, Leara knew what being Dragonborn meant and how utterly she fell short.

After all, how could a traitor to the Blades ever fulfill the role of the one the Blades were sworn to protect above all others?

A line from your fic you're proud of

That time in Chapter VI that Leara used rune magic to destroy a dwarven centurion is *chef's kiss* 💕 Literally an idea that I'm crazy about! I wrote it at like, five am, because early morning writing is the actual best!

Oil stained her bare forefinger as she traced runes across the chest plate of the fallen machine. Under the distant glow of the dwarven lights, the black stood dark and deep against the dull golden finish of the automaton’s armor.

Then Leara led Karnwyr across the dais to the shadows cast by the surrounding towers. Once there, she threw a rock back at the fallen automaton.

It clattered loud and clear against the bronze haul. Its living twin turned from its search near the stair to investigate. Leara held her breath as it thundered toward her trap. And then it was standing over the broken machine, blindly searching.

Flames pooled across her palm, kissing her skin. Leara hurled the spell.

At the swish of flying fire, the automaton turned its helmet. In that instant, the flames connected with the oily runes crisscrossing the broken machine.

Blinding white. A loud boom! resounded throughout the cavern. Her eyes squeezed shut, Leara covered Karnwyr’s face with her cloak as a wave of intense heat rolled toward them. In defense, she held an icy ward around them, depending on the old Cyrodilic dome style to shield them on all sides. She spared only half a thought to Bishop as the inferno died down in the melted ruins of the two Dwemer machines. If he was as smart as he claimed to be, he’d have found a good hiding place.

A line for your fic you think could have been better

In Chapter VII: Sparrow, after Leara's fight with Alduin, Arngeir relays what Paarthurnax had to say about the battle. I don't know. Reading over the other lines of dialogue I write and my descriptions, this paragraph feels really weak.

He patted her hand again, gently. Still, the frostbitten skin tingled and pinched beneath the layers of linen wrap. “We can discuss that when you are well again. For now, you must rest. As Paarthurnax told it, you bathed in Alduin’s blood and formed for yourself a shell of ice before flying through the air.”

Leara sank back into her pillows, eyes shut. “Yeah, that, that sounds right.”

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

Honestly, the first time Bishop hurts Leara. Not that far in Chapter I: Rat. It's not the worst that he does her, but this is the moment Leara should've noped out . . . and didn't. Kinda sets the tone for a lot of Bishop's behavior throughout the fic.

The golden smile on Leara’s face wavered once they were clear of the gate and its guards. It slipped away entirely when Bishop dragged her into an alley and thrust her against a wall. Wooden planks dug awkwardly into the backplate of her silver armor, but she remained still. She inhaled, the beginnings of Unrelenting Force stirring into a gale in her mouth when his hand pressed into her windpipe.

No.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” he hissed, looming over her face. “Do you not understand what corrupt guards like that do to beautiful women like you? They’ll use you once and then expect favors any time you come through town!”

“Get – off – me . . .”

“Stupid woman,” Bishop growled. Nonetheless, he backed off her.

Leara gasped, her knees threatening to buckle as she took in air. “I can’t believe you’d just let them hustle you liked that!” he growled.

Leara coughed. By Akatosh. “Hustle me? They didn’t hustle me! I bribed them to keep them from turning you into a pincushion!”

“Oh, was that what that was?” Bishop lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Next time, sweetness, let me handle the guards.” With that, he turned and walked away toward the other end of the alleyway. Without missing a beat, he called back over his shoulder, “Next time you want to play rough, try and give a man a warning, all right? I want an equal share of the fun, after all.”

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

In Chapter III: Hawk, Leara despairs of ever learning Dragonrend and receives some good old fashioned Dragon Dad Comfort™. It's one of the cutest images that has ever sprumg from my mind! ✨

Sagging back against the Word Wall, Leara felt as if the entire mountain threatened to fall and bury her in its rubble, throwing her so deep she’d never be able to claw her way back into the light. Divines help her, was every lead going to become a dead end? “I thought,” she began, her voice betraying her exhaustion. “I thought you knew every Shout. You’re a dragon!” She squeezed her eyes closed.

Warm air puffed into her face. Leara cracked open an eye to see Paarhturnax’s head craned down at her level, upside down. His intact horn was just inches from the snow as he looked her in the eye. Leara blinked back tears she didn’t know had formed, rubbing at her face with the soft padding of her gloves.

“Dreh ni krosein, Dovahkiin. Do not weep,” he said, puffing another breath of air against her face. She blinked at him, the tears prickled at the corners of her eyes banished by the gentle gust.

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

In Chapter II: Raven, Leara learns what Delphine really thinks of the Greybeards, and reflects. Sometimes I wish Leara could turn to Delphine and tell her to shut up and let the grown-ups talk, but alas. Character assessment can be symbolic, non?

Leara stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown horns and started ramming her head into the wall like a dumb goat. Is that what she thought of the Greybeards’ philosophy? A responsibility to use power wisely and respect the natural balance of the world was reduced to petty isolationism and fear. She could almost see the little Breton, head too small for the Blade’s helmet she wore like a crown, begging the Grandmaster to deploy her to Summerset. Heedless of the danger and finesse involved in such a mission. The woman in front of her had grown into the skin of one used to hiding, but still lacked the insight and tact necessary to find a path back into the sun. Distrust made Delphine bitter, and Leara pitied her.

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

I have lots of little references and Easter eggs in this fic. Some from Star Wars, an obvious Taylor Swift song reference, the Wizard of Oz, even! But this is one of my very favorites. From Chapter VII: Sparrow, because dragons and mountains remind me of The Hobbit, and The Hobbit is my favorite book. Like, ever.

Thunder rumbled and with it, the smoke hazing the world thickened, pressing down from the sky like a choking wave. The three turned. Leara could not. But she heard the coming just the same. A noise like a hurricane coming out of the east. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked on the hot, dry wind. It was the World-Eater. Alduin was coming.

A line from your fic that's shocking

That time in Chapter VI: Salmon that Bishop did not, in fact, die like Leara thought he did. How discourteous of him. At the time, I was going for total shock and surprise value even though I was sure everyone knew Bishop couldn't die. Yet.

With careful, trembling hands, Leara extracted the Elder Scroll. Holding it to her chest, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then began to laugh. And then she began to sob. She’d done it! She actually found the Elder Scroll!

“Tears, darling? And to think, I’d thought you left me behind.”

Leara’s arms grew rigid around the Elder Scroll. Slowly, oh so slowly she turned around.

Standing with his back against the wall where the upper and lower ramps met beside the oculory, was Bishop. A little worse for wear, with a hole in the dark leather of his armor just below his right shoulder and a black bruise along the left side of his face, was Bishop.

At Leara’s open-mouthed shock, he smirked. Pushing off the wall, he sauntered toward her, a swagger in his step. “Did you miss me?” he said, coming to a halt in front of her.

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

In Chapter V: Moth, Leara sees the Arcanaeum for the first time and unleashes a bit of her inner nerd. I was inspired by a couple of different College of Winterhold overhaul mods, the names of which I can't recall. But like, I love love love the scenes that take place in the Arcanaeum!

The Arcanaeum was massive. The library took up two floors within the tower, the second accessible by two spiral staircases corkscrewing upward from the ends of the stone partitions cradling the center of the room. There were books everywhere, far more than the library of Cloud Ruler Temple held in the years before the Great War; many of the bookcases were locked, doors paned with enchanted malachite that promised nasty repercussions to anyone foolish enough to try getting in without the proper wards. Leara could smell the guardian runes like Wormwood and Bergamot, tempting and poisonous. Other bookcases were open, lined with neat rows of ancient leather tomes, bound in secrets and protective magics. The sheer amount of knowledge and magicka pulsing through the air brought the library to life. Leara knew she could spend a lifetime in the Arcanaeum, and even the centuries of a mongrel Altmer wouldn’t be enough to learn everything hidden in this place!

“Wow, you haven’t looked that taken with something since I – woah!”

A laugh burst from Leara as Bishop flailed backward, only just avoiding a collision course with a flock of books. They ruffled their pages at him, like a bird would its tailfeathers, before springing off, flying to the bookcases lining the second level.

“That wasn’t funny,” Bishop grunted, brushing off his dark leathers.

“Whatever you say.” Leara met Karnwyr’s gaze, and she shared an amused grin with the wolf.

Small tables were scattered around the perimeter of the room, each studded with haphazard stacks of books and lit by bright candles of white gold mage fire. The center of the library was dominated by a long table, settled under a trailing chandelier sparkling with the same mage fire held by the candles; studded on the chandelier, the lights illuminated the room with the vividity of a constellation. Then Leara gasped. It was a constellation! The Mage’s form reflected by the chandelier, bestowing the knowledge of the arcane on its students!

I don't know who to tag for this, hm, @blossom-adventures @oblivions-dawn @singleteapot @crysdrawsthings @elder-dragon-reposes and anyone else who wants to fill it!

#i didn't know you were keeping count #tag game #mod post #oc: leara roseblade #last dragonborn #dovahkiin #bishop #paarthurnax #delphine #master arngeir #college of winterhold #alduin the world eater #the elder scrolls #tes #skyrim

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princessasmosprincess · 1 year ago

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Lisette Beaufort

I wanted to introduce my OC Lisette. She pops up a couple of times in Charmed, I'm Sure as a side character. The first picture is from 1909 (I did my best) and the second is modern times.

Lisette is a witch and a former high society socialite and heiress. She originally summoned Kallios to help her get out of her engagement to her fiancé whom she didn’t love (he sucked, he only wanted her for her money and how many babies she could give him). She refused to give Kallios her soul in return for their pact, leaving him to figure out some other sort of payment. Along the way she and Kallios fell in love, and she married him and moved to the Devildom where she was able to pursue her dream as a fashion designer. She currently owns and runs Majolish and Devil Style magazine, and has done so for the past 100 years. She's a partier and is good friends with Asmo and Mammon (Mams says she's the only witch he can tolerate, probably because she pays him and not the other way around). She’s not exactly immortal, but her skill in magic combined with her bond with Kallios froze her at the age of 30 and extended her life. She is gifted in divination (mostly through tarot) and she receives prophetic dreams but she can’t control what she sees or when they happen. Kallios's death devastated her and she was only able to get through it because of her dear friends, she cherishes each and every one deeply but she hasn't ever loved anyone else the way she did Kallios.

For her character design I wanted her to be almost "perfect" but just off. She's slim and tall, and always fits the fashionable silhouette. But her hair is light, which wasn't the popular hair color when she was younger, and she has unique amber eyes some might find off putting.

I answered some Get to Know My OC questions too:

1. She likes champagne and overly sweet, fruity cocktails. For non alcoholic drinks, Coca Cola is very nostalgic to her, something that hasn’t changed that much in all the years she’s been alive. She also likes tea.

2. Favorite flavor: Sweet, mostly.

3. Favorite food: She likes food in general so she doesn’t have one set favorite but if you asked her she’d probably say chocolate ice cream.

4. Dinner is her favorite because it’s the best time to dine with her beloved and friends, and after dinner comes dessert.

5. Once again, she’s not too picky about food but she doesn’t like meat that’s too bloody or fish that’s overcooked or too fishy.

6. At first she had difficulty tolerating spicy foods but living in the Devildom for over 100 years has raised her tolerance.

7. Favorite animal: Birds, specifically parrots. Kallios gifted her a hell cockatoo that she named Adonis.

8. She wears a nightgown to bed, usually something silky.

9. She sleeps on her back but sometimes she’ll sleep on her side, clutching a pillow (she really misses sleeping next to Kallios).

10. She’s more of a night owl because she loves to party but once she’s woken up in the morning she becomes alert rather quickly.

11. She’s usually an average sleeper, but on nights she gets prophetic dreams, she sleeps heavy.

12. She likes to sew on rainy days, there’s just something so cozy about the sound of the rain mixed with the clicking of the sewing machine.

13. She loves the smell of white florals and vanilla, also fresh herbs

14. What does she smell like: In the past she would have worn Jicky by Guerlain. Now she still keeps it very classic, she wears Chanel No. 5.

15. If she had the time she would take a leisurely bath every day.

16. Her cooking skills are pretty decent. Not gourmet but she can follow a recipe. She loved cooking together with her husband, it was quality time for them.

17. She loves fall, the weather is perfect.

18. Halloween, but she also loves Jill’s day because that was the first time she visited the Devildom.

19. She prefers making gifts for her loved ones. Usually it’s in the form of clothing she designed just for them, with love in every stitch.

20. She’s 5’7/170 cm

#obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me oc #charmed i'm sure

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thenightlymirror · 2 years ago

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Rhubarb

We used a 500w light

The kind you buy from Home Depot

And hid it above the bathroom mirror

The light that came down from the ceiling

Painted everything in a warm shimmer

The actor that played you in this film

Was not the one I would have chosen

He had a habit of smiling when he had nothing better to do

Which made the suicide attempt at the end of the film

Seem to come out of nowhere

Your professor friend told you to take the scene out

But I was adamant that the scene stay in

It’s the only shot I like

If you really want to make everything cohere

Just get rid of the rest of the film where he’s smiling for no reason

You could have said something

That’s what directing is.

Balibar

I misread something once and assumed for many years that Etienne Balibar was Althusser’s wife

He looks like he gives really good hugs

Rhubarb #2

See, knocking toward recorded states

Knowing most days ever deduced you

No season forwarding miles

She, wraith-like, lifts the sitter through the ether

Up through dirt and regret

Her spirit-name lapping over stones on the river

The white sheet, wet, tracing time in wooden faces

In Illyrium, mine forever

Out of nickel slugs, the lie and splinter gang

Stay with me stage-left in the hallway of your laundry room

The shadow of your wrist

The black summer outside in cicada hum

The stage painted black

Yellow dressing room lights dimly during the day

While classes went on and we slept in sawdust

The sawdust, the centipede

The tile floor of your bathroom under the risers

Bleecher marks on your skin

Thoth hidden in the bathtub Armada among artifacts like the cold faucet

You, Anise, in cattails

Stepping on boards across marshes

You, sweet friend, red seraphim, yours alone

Ewe’s horn and fool, come and find me

Malefic foe of D’ne, attacking the temple headfirst

Shallow gold passage of oil that flows over her feet

The lady machine bewitched

The Dodo’s song on the back of a washboard

Along Katib’s reed and whistle

Elephants sigh in empathy with the ghost

He knows

When the smiling snake of Tabitha and Abbadon

The red scalloped rib of the cinema curtain

The rabbit’s pink nose on heaven’s cloud

Air graveyard pipes

And violin bow the singing saw

Evil eye on sister Venus climbing the miller’s wheel

Speaking her angel’s papyrus with disappearing ink

Remember me before we knew warm river shores

Long fingers in sand

The soil that hangs on branches standing upright on its banks

Pulling the threads of it dark brown roots

Tangled in telephone wires red and blue

The beige receiver unscrewed

The voice in carbon cupped in your hand

Yellow vinyl, bareback, cigarette smoke hovering into the austere void above

Soft plastic tissue released from engines in the blue sky

The deep end of the living room

Suspension of the lithe body

The proximity and weight

Roaring lion’s voice and the beasts it kills like an open door

Tawny and overgrown rusted junkyard

Heat and sweat on your cool face underneath

The tattered orange towel that covers the window

The tortoise shell

Love or the dark cabinet

I waited hidden for hours crying alternately sniggering through the peep hole

As the party continued

As breath quickened and stopped

Teapot Dome changes a gourd half carved out an intricate path

Stiff paper walls

Labyrinthine circuit, unseen, unknown

To that breathing thing, unfolding inside itself in cellulose

Bark-like, dry, a wonder

Tightly winding the mouse a sewing needle

#when did I write this?#draft file #poem

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lunarcovehq · 20 days ago

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Kaye James is a pixie that currently resides in Celestial Hills and has been a Lunar Cove resident for 15 years.

ITS THE END OF THE WORLD

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Nonbinary, They/She

DATE OF BIRTH: January 12, 1959

OCCUPATION: Owner of Blush Boutique

FACECLAIM: Janelle Monáe

AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

SPECIES: Fae

SUBCATEGORY: Pixie

FAE COURT POSITION: Member

AGE THEY APPEAR: 36

WELCOME TO LUNAR COVE, KAYE JAMES

Trigger Warnings: Murder, Agoraphobia, PTSD

Kaye James was something of an afterthought from the moment they were born, on a snowy morning in 1959. The James family definitely had enough to handle by the time Kaye came along, having just relocated from Chicago to Rockford, Illinois. Their parents balanced work, community, and family in an elaborate juggling act—the general atmosphere of their home was warm, if a little hectic.

With two older siblings whose ambitions focused on sports and academics, and a younger one who mostly seemed determined to be the loudest person in every room, they often felt overlooked. Even if there had been early indications of their supernatural origins, in all likelihood they would’ve needed to sprout wings at the dinner table before anyone would pick up on how different they truly were.

In a way it gave them space to experiment, testing personalities the way only an unobtrusive middle child could. Kaye slipped between boundaries of identity here and there with ease. She would be playing catch in the park with her big brother’s friends one day, and singing in the back row with her parents’ church choir the next, never drawing too much attention, simply floating along without disturbing the waters with more than a ripple of her presence. While some would find it lonely, Kaye was introverted enough that her solitude and secrecy felt more like a protection than a punishment.

She began to take notice of how presentation affected the way people interacted with them, and an interest in clothing and fashion germinated slowly, along with a natural talent for design and a solidifying of the knowledge that they lay somewhere outside a binary form of gender, though they didn’t have a perfect word for such at the time. Clothing and makeup was something she could use—she could express herself without saying a word, if she chose, letting their style fill in the blanks of who they were. Fashion and art was where they flourished, spending hours pouring over catalogues and then trying their own skills with a rickety old sewing machine they got off a neighbour. Soon, people began to take notice, and word spread around—if that old coat that doesn’t fit quite right? New dress needed adjusting? Take it to the James kid—no, the other James kid, the quiet one.

As they got older, Kaye began to suspect that their innate ability to sense the emotions of others, to copy a complicated stitch after only seeing it once, was something a little more than ordinary. But they’d been accustomed to holding secrets close to their chest by then. With the discovery of their wings and actual invisibility, it became easier than ever to stay out of the way, and curiosity about the world beyond Rockford began to tempt them to take greater risks. This culminated when Kaye was 19, and hopped a train to New York, to see what she could see of Fashion Press Week in the city—and maybe even stick around if the lights and noise of the Big Apple really were as entrancing as everyone claimed. They used their invisibility to sneak into show after show, swept up in the glamour of it all, but lacking practice they accidentally became visible on their way out of a venue. A hand fell on their shoulder and panic set in as someone turned them around, calling them by a name they didn’t know.

The stranger swiftly apologized for the error, but after asking a few pointed questions about things they couldn’t possibly know, took Kaye to chat at a nearby diner. Over hushed tones in the back booth the stranger explained that they were both fae—a hidden species capable of being reborn if they were in mortal danger. If they were right about the uncanny resemblance, then Kaye had previously been a singer, right here in New York—Odette “Odie” Montgomery, a rising star on the scene until one rainy night after her set, she vanished, presumed dead.

The fae pointed Kaye in the direction of Odie’s old band members, the musicians who used to play together but had since retired. Several of them were supernatural themselves, and one confirmed what they’d all suspected—Odie’s death had come at the hands of hunters.

It was with their blessings, aid, and encouragement, that Kaye decided to try and pass themself off as Odie’s long lost child. After all, the band assured them, it’s what Odie would’ve wanted, and that stuff was theirs already, technically. They helped Kaye fix up false adoption papers, naming the James as their adopted family. As surreal as it was to realize that they weren’t human, it did answer a lot of unasked questions. Kaye took the opportunity for a little reinvention along the way. It was far from a perfect illusion, but a little magic here and there to smooth over questions, and the lie was good enough to hold, at least by 1980s standards. Kaye James went from being another face in the crowd to the mysterious heir of a tragically short-lived songbird. Although most of Odie’s possessions had been held onto by the remaining members of the band, the label, or sold to various private collectors and fans, at least the royalties were redirected. Suddenly, Kaye had the means to follow whatever dream they wanted, a gift from a past life.

But along with this windfall, came nightmares of their previous incarnation’s violent death. Kaye’s fears wore at her, and her affection for the bustling city life waned. Every alleyway felt like it held the potential for hidden assailants, waiting just out of sight. They were desperate and mostly sleepless when their old bandmates advised them to check out Lunar Cove, Rhode Island.

Here, they began to feel like they could breathe again. The little coastal town was going to be a place where Kaye could gather their thoughts and decide how best to go about living as fae, in light of their previous incarnation’s apparent recognizability. They joined the Court, and feeling some measure of protection here, turned back to their designs. Money was no longer the worry it had been, so they opened a shop in Celestial Hills, turning the lower floors into a storefront, and the ones above it into their very own atelier and living quarters. Kaye found that their new gift for casting illusions actually made for the perfect design canvas. Blush Boutique became their pride and joy—it wasn’t their own House, far from it, but it was something all their own, and they had centuries to nurture and build their vision.

By 1992, they were very nearly content. Sure, leaving behind the outside world was a tough sell, and they still didn’t know how to feel about their family back in Rockford. But what they had gained—the safety, the community, the truth of their existence—it felt worth it. They’d never felt such a sense of belonging before, not anywhere.

And it should’ve been good. Lunar Cove was safe—they even learned how to lend luck out to those who needed it, and bad luck in a place like this barely felt like much of a risk. When a friend asked, Kaye lent more than enough luck to help shake off the blues. If they hadn’t been so generous, maybe things would’ve been different.

There shouldn’t have been hunters in Lunar Cove. Kaye should’ve seen them, should’ve vanished, should have had enough time to regenerate another time. All of this should’ve been true, but instead they were murdered by hunters, for the second time.

Or so they’d thought. Maybe fate took pity. Maybe luck was just slow to balance out, and realized it had taken too much from them. The next thing Kaye knew, it was nighttime, and someone was reaching for them. Without thinking, Kaye shoved him backwards, watched him trip and fall down a flight of steps to land, motionless, at the bottom. They weren’t aware that the man they’d just killed wasn’t a hunter, or that any time had passed since they were the one being attacked.

Trembling and shocked, they found their way to the boutique, only to find the door locked, and when they broke a window to get in, nothing was where it should’ve been. Everything felt wrong, familiar but strange. The atelier was full of things they didn’t recognize, none of their possessions or designs were in the shop. Disoriented and barely coherent, they were found there the next morning and taken to the Faerie Ring.

It was now the year 2022, and it seemed like in an instant everything had changed. With thirty years missing from their life, they woke up to a world entirely different from the one they were born into. Technology moved in leaps and bounds, along with fashion and everything else. Their human parents had passed away, their siblings had migrated, scattered around the country and built families of their own. It’s said that a fae will lose their powers if they’re heartbroken, but their abilities seemed to be the only thing left intact. That, and the Boutique, which after the confusion was resolved, fell back under Kaye’s ownership without much arguing.

It took time to adjust to their new existence, and that was only complicated when it became clear they’d been resurrected by the Catalyst, who intended to coerce the pixie into helping disrupt the town. Kaye held their ground though, unwilling to betray the Court and the town that they thought of as home. They turned instead to the Council, revealing the Catalyst’s attempts to communicate with them psychically.

Despite their display of conviction in front of the Council, Kaye was aware their life was tied to the Catalyst. The Resurrection bond meant that if Lorelai Cavenaugh was killed, Kaye would die too. So when the dark witch Silas Chamberlain entered their shop and offered to break the bond in return for a favor to be fulfilled at a later date, Kaye accepted with very little hesitation. The deal released them from the Catalyst’s hold. But as a result, their life had to be sustained another way—they must absorb the emotions from another person at least once a month, or they’ll die. With no ability to regenerate, they will be gone from this earth, permanently.

Most days since then, Kaye keeps to themselves, focusing wholly on their work in the atelier, keeping up with ever-changing trends and the evolution of the fashion world. It’s a source of great joy and pride for them that whenever there’s an event, many locals come to Blush, where Kaye does swift alterations or even offers bespoke designs of her own. When they venture out of the shelter of the boutique, they still struggle with their anxiety and the temptation to remain hidden away behind a veil of invisibility. But now freed from the Catalyst’s ticking clock, Kaye’s slowly growing used to the realization that as long as they keep their wits about them, they’ve still got plenty of time.

#Blush Boutique #kaye james #Janelle Monáe #celestial hills #taken fae #all #owner of blush boutique #fae court member

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andwhentheangelscome · 6 months ago

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Almost four years here. And pretty fucking important ones, at that.

Is it just the new house that's making it so hard to walk away? I wanted this so badly, for so long, and now it's all here, and I feel... I feel like I'm being split in two. And it's nearly impossible for me to tell if that's the continually dying gasps of a years old self-esteem pattern that was fractured and self-defeating, or if it's the genuine distress at being moving into a new space that I'm uncertain of my ability to shape according to my designs.

It's probably both, if I'm really being honest. It's always hard to change. Even when the change is welcome. And it's an absolute rarity that basically every change before this is something that I chose, sought out, and felt was an authentic realization of my personal vision.

Every change except the one that set me on this path in the first place. Resiliency is something that is learned, and I've got some work to do.

I found a list of goals I had / have for the year, that I wrote in the early days of January, that I uncovered while putting every single object I own into boxes. I haven't made much progress on most of them. Or maybe not enough. I'm still starting classes in four (!!!!) weeks. Nothing could stop or change that, except for an unfortunate turn of fate.

I'm thinking about what to do with my camera once I move, and the classes I said I'd take but never started. I'm thinking about the grocery lists, and the lawn to be watered, and the neighbor's pit bull, who quite literally took up all the space between us the other night, as I wanted to introduce us, so that the space could feel a little less alien, and more like a neighborhood.

I'm thinking about the digital keyboard that Rosie already has, and the sewing machine, and the Costco runs, and the code I have to ship when I go back to work on Monday, and gym memberships and car insurance payments and wedding travel expenses and the anticipation of a funeral which we will all consider a blessing.

"This is what the living do," as the poet says. I've bought and built a pretty good life for myself, and if it's hard to keep my head up, it's not because there's no one there rooting me on. God, they all want to see me soar.

Everything is done except the last. It's time to light my shrine, maybe have a smoke, and say goodbye to the only home I've ever built entirely on my own (he says, knowing the falsity of extra hands, baking bread, art crafted that will sit on walls for decades, showing love, love, love-)

If I do nothing else,

let me say that from here on out

the responsibility of living my life will be not given to anyone else

but me.

#personal #moving day

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 7 months ago

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043 of 2024

Created by sassybabexo

Do you know anyone who works at McDonald's?

Not in person.

What are your plans for next weekend?

Groceries and taking some good rest.

Do you know anyone who plays heaps of sports?

Not really, I rather know plenty of people who play just one.

Have you ever been suspended from school?

Not really.

When was the last time you had chocolate?

Ate some chocolate-covered cookies now, but I'm not a big fan of chocolate.

Have you ever been to a sports game?

More than once.

If so, what sport did you see?

Football. I attend all the matches my stepson plays, and the ones his kids play. (No, I don't like football.)

Have you used a sewing machine before?

Yes, my mum had one.

When was the last time you had a snow day?

Centuries ago lol. Just kidding, the last and only snowy day we had in this country was in March, I think.

Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class?

Who hasn't lol. But I'm from the older generation, times have changed.

Where do your cousins live?

All over Europe.

Have you met any of your second cousins?

Yeah, more than once.

Do you like the All-American Rejects?

Nope, not my type.

Is your computer slow or fast?

Fun thing, it had RAM replaced from 8GB to 20GB and it's still lagging like ell at times.

What colour shirt are you wearing?

I'm not wearing any shirt.

Have you ever faked sick to get out of something?

Nope, it's lame.

If so, how did you do it?

I didn't.

Have you ever been ice skating?

Yeah, as a part of PE classes. I hated it.

Who do you sit near in math?

I graduated school 14 years ago.

Have you ever had Werther s Original butterscotch toffee?

I know the brand and I like their candy, but I don't remember if I ever tried this particular one before.

When was the last time you wore a skirt?

Lol I'm a guy. I don't wear skirts.

Have you seen all the Shrek movies?

Yeah, they're funny.

Have you ever fainted?

More than once.

What did you have for breakfast?

I didn't have anything. I legit forgot about breakfast because I was busy cooking and cleaning.

When was the last time you went on vacation?

Last year, Christmas trip to my parents. And last summer to Poland.

Have you ever had to sit next to some smelly random person on a bus?

What's the question even. More than once, last time today. Ew.

Do you have any pets other than dogs or cats?

No, but I used to have a pet rabbit when I was a child.

What colour is your bed sheet?

Light blue.

Do you have a job?

I do. I was fighting hard to get back to it, and I succeeded. I'm happy for that because I love my job and I can't imagine doing anything else in my life.

If so, where and what does it consist of doing?

I work in a rolling stock company, so long story short, I build trains. I'm an electrician, so I make electrical components (including wiring control racks) and then install them in train carriages. Very responsible job.

What was the last thing you cooked?

Tomato soup.

Do you know anyone with the surname Matheson?

No, but I know two people with similarly sounding last name.

Tell me about the posters you have on your walls.

I don't have any posters. I'm not 14.

Are you the type of person who gets injuries often?

Yup. Mostly bruises, thankfully.

What does your soap smell like?

Chamomile.

Have you ever finished a whole video game?

I don't play video games.

If so, which one(s)?

N/A.

Are your siblings allergic to anything?

Most likely, although she's less allergic to things than me.

Tell me about a funny TV ad you've seen.

...wait, there's such thing as funny ads?? :O I've only seen the cringy ones.

What time is it?

19:54. Time to take my evening meds.

Do you know anyone with a pet snake?

Not in person.

Do you own a purple hoodie or sweatshirt?

No, but my husband does.

When did you last stay home from school?

I'm not even in school.

^ What was the reason?

N/A.

Has your house ever had a pest infestation?

Yea we had ants at some point.

Do you have any bad habits?

Is there anyone who doesn't?

Can you speak French?

We have mandatory French classes in schools (it's one of our three official languages), but I forgot everything lol. I would be lost without my husband, he's fluent in French.

Which one of your friends has great music taste?

All of them and none of them at the same time.

What can you smell right now?

Raspberry cookies.

What was the last movie you watched?

I don't watch movies, I always fall asleep on them.

What was the last CD you bought?

À NÉANT by LE MONDE PAR LE FEU.

Was it a digital copy or old school?

Digital because they didn't release physical CDs.

What will you do after this?

Probably either another survey or I'll go to bed.

#survey #q&a survey #random survey

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apocalypse-eyes · 11 months ago

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Disappearances

Dark rain to cold. To darkness. Cycling on uneven streets. Murderer asphalt downhill with wet eyes with blackness. I need to keep my head down. Headlights like white knives twisting in night. And sirens to relapse, to shrill call suicide. I'm riding between the heavy machines and can only trust my legs and stomach. Necessity is irrelevant to gunshots. I'm also huddled in a ravine, clutching my tools together. My rifle to my IFAK with gasping. I'm cashiering, I'm running. I don't know where I am but my body remembers strain. Rain in my eyes, it's usual. With sweat or my legs' ache. I don't remember my spine the way it pinches when I bend. A car alarm, a couple of shouts that combine into murmurs. I missed a pothole with my wheel. Another neglected wound in the city. You can't see these when you're walking or driving. They could kill me any second to throw this body under a car. Like the smokes of these past few years that descended yellow/black and thick suddenly. You could ignore them better in your home but I had to ride where I was going. I bought masks from a hardware store in 2017 to keep from choking in the streets. It's happening more and more that you can't see from where you are.

Skies the color of tainted urine I bought a gun in ignorance. Whatever research I do the future remains inscrutable. Inevitable. Illness and character defects are leading me deaf. Once in the week I see a mirror and I'm markedly different. I'm sinking through the abyss that I know well but do not understand. My anarchism is a living body sewed inside a corpse. I turn a corner and my wheel skids on wet. It could be my death but I re-correct. The meaning to any of this is useless. My headlight flickers and evaporates as I didn't charge it recently. I know I didn't. I can't keep pace with the system that surrounds me. I'm base reactions to reptilian chemistry every day. It'll overwhelm me and sometimes I'll find a break. I steal a watch out of Walmart. I put a bruise in their bodyguard and am anonymous. I'm overtaken with dreams while Earth whirs. This engine is horribly misshapen. Not attended to. There's no need on Earth to be aware of life. The laws of dynamics exact equations, exact austerity into a street of oil and slogans.

I could kick out your taillights. I could jump into your passenger window to finger out your eyes. This life is built of possibilities. Love is a continuum like the motions of downtown run to the bleak water of ocean. We don't mean anything when we wake in the morning, only a suspicious drone calls the night. The passage of time is our Britannia. The sink in a slick of doubt. My lips are full of flies riding between the bus and a redbrown truck. The voices in my head are a collectivization of those advertisement personalities I meet in my personal life. It makes sense to be inscrutable. My bag is full of a flashlight, a steel baton, pens and spray paint, my writing and reading, my other clothes and miscellaneous tools. It's 4:30pm in the same way that it is 7:30am. A little difference in the quality of sun but there's no midnight here. No cold quiet or drunkenness. I try to define myself and the chunks out of my bones reply. My late nights that are carved out of future say truth about my marrow. We're all together sinking deep behind economy.

Pull aside I'm at the door. Tires throw mud and slick around. Machine sounds howling, micro-howling inside funnels of sound. The wind is a system itself, like underwater with sub-bass and whales. Micro-patterns. Micro-constellations in the pores of a skin system. Skrying refractions in gasoline on the streetside. Infinitesimal patterns run through every moment in the mouth of a city. The window leaks pus. I think she still lives here. I think his name is Melvin lets me in and then I'm down the stairs, around the corner past the laundry room. A shut down with powder packed under it. A blue light bulb shows constantly. Her name is Ethel, or it's Judith. Her name before we became disappearances. I don't remember well. My bike is wet and cramped in here. It's hard to remember where I am sometimes when the rooms fit together I've been through hallways enough and the smell is always the same. Above the ground is one, below is another. Birds or insect smells, dead skin electricity or wet in the corners and cupboards.

I knock. It's easy like a dream like my hand moves to its own meaning. I've been here before. I've done all of this before but I forget how the vision ends. A moth against the light. The air tastes like mildew here. She pulls the door open and her voice is there. Desolate immediate heat. I leave my bike in the hall.

***

"Andrew. You said something about Andrew."

We talked on the phone earlier. We sometimes do when the air is dry and quiet. Some times there is space to talk and others I curl into absence. Her room is full of machines and it feels like sweat. Skeletons of projects on the table, an archaeological strata and graveyard of murdered thoughts. Midi talks to herself and touches the knife inside her clothes. She points at a chair and kicks it slightly for me to sit down. The quality of light is weird like it's being filtered through multiple substances. Like we're deep under water talking amid a different atmosphere.

"Yeah... Andrew he's going to Montell this weekend with Bruce and her sister."

"Going to the pit?"

"Not the pit this time it's just a midpoint. Did you know anyone called Pisky?"

"Know where?"

At least six fans are perched around the room, heaving out dusty air from between collapsed accumulation. It feels rancid here. I'm inside of a body that's been allowed to die. So that it could be reanimated into something else. Midi patrols the room in twitchy patterns, looking into spiderwebs and her various objects and screens.

"From Osten. I don't know the person but I guess they fucked up and their pictures are going around."

Midi gets very slow and still the way I've seen her do. Picks up a jar of batteries and I see her imagine it shatter to the floor. She breathes with her eyes closed, thirty seconds before setting it back.

"Goddammit yeah I know Pisky. What did she do?"

"No idea. No one told me and I don't really care. She'll be dead though if she doesn't get across the border soon."

"When are you leaving? What time?"

Her nervous energy is dissipated, her usual self. Midi sits in her work chair and leans back, breathing. Her eyes are mostly closed.

"Early. Early-early, before the bars close."

She's doing math in her head, moving her lips. One of her spiders is gathering its web together in the corner, patiently consuming the threads to reset them. Her rooms are an ecosystem. One layer consumes another, all so she doesn't keep track of it. One of her fingers is missing, she told me before. Missing like a person, she doesn't remember what happens. She said it hurts to type, to manipulate her tools. She snaps to attention in her seat. Mouth tight, eyes dark.

"So we're leaving from Bruce's place at one thirty. Probably drop our shit off the morning before. I'll need to get in my storage unit, get the key back from Parsons... You didn't give me much time to work this out."

"I didn't know if you'd want to go."

"Pisky's a fucking idiot but I'm not gonna let them have her. And any of you... You're not crossing the border but why would you get that close without expecting me?"

"You keep saying we should keep more narrow near home. I just didn't think you'd support it."

"I... usually I don't, but not like this. It's not careless..."

She walks out of the room. I haven't seen Parsons for three or four months. I didn't realize she was still talking to him. His face was covered in blood when we were arguing. It looked like a small gash on his forehead but I couldn't tell in the dark of the alley. It wasn't a surprise that he left, but nobody was happy about it. Especially Rox. That was hard to explain when they got back in town. Parsons offline and Mandy was hiding out somewhere, barely talking to us. Midi comes back with her go-bag and a bundle of papers, drops them beside the door.

"You're asking me last aren't you, or are we gonna borrow Helen's car? That's five of us, plus Pisky. Is it just Pisky or anyone coming with her?"

"Just Pisky that I know. There wasn't a lot of chatter though. Just time, date, place mostly."

Midi nods and goes around the room, pulling little tools and objects from their remembered places in the mess.

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red-letter-imagines · 3 years ago

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heyy there!! can you do another part of the “reaction when you suck on their tongue but with Mikey, Rindou and mitsuya?

You have no idea how happy I am that my work's so well-received! So there's been more than one request for a part 2, but for different characters. This little dove, however, is the first one so I'll be doing this, then the other characters in later parts, alright? Alright.

Now *cracks knuckles* let's begin!

Reaction When You Suck on Their Tongue Part 2 (Sano Manjiro, Haitani Rindou & Mitsuya Takashi)

Sano "Mikey" Manjiro: (Bonten! Mikey)

You sure you don't need a chaser with that? Sanzu snickers from across you, pupils already blown wide from the pills he'd taken half an hour ago. The pure vodka sears your esophagus, a pool of liquid fire in your abdomen. Tears are springing up your eyes and you wince. Truly, it had been a horrible idea on your side to make bets with Sanzu, of all people. That man has had every drug imaginable enter his system and three overdoses later, is still standing. You should've known better than to order Spirytus, but Sanzu has a way of getting under anyone's skin, especially yours.

He knew you had more than several bones to pick with him after he coaxed Mikey into accepting a million-dollar drug deal with some shady Western cartel. Throughout Bonten's history, it was one of the more careless business trades you'd ever gone through, one that put Mikey in a precarious position. The cartel demanded Mikey's audience for the deal to be done, and while Sanzu reassured you that nothing would happen to their "King", that never stopped you from worrying your head off.

A part of you wanted the drugs and alcohol put him into a coma; you just had to hold your liquor until then. Yet this poisonous bastard is still standing, while you barely have the confidence to stand up straight. He's fucking crazy.

You eye the remaining shot glass. It's rim and ridges bounce the bright glow of the chandeliers above you, its crystal clear contents an elegant deception to those unaware. You suck air through your nose and grab it. Before you could down the last drink of your life, a slender hand slides to your shoulder.

You turn to face Mikey's lilac-rimmed gaze, the darkness swimming within sucking you in like a vacuum. Once he sees the flares of red across your cheeks and down your neck, his lips curl a little. Mikey hates alcohol with a passion; he told you early on that he abhorred its bitterness and how it hazed your mind.

Instantly, you cave under his disappointment, and none-too-gracefully drop your shot glass back on the counter. You barely had time to utter his name before he cups your cheek and kisses you. It's gentle, caring yet the pressure of his pecks stamp his dominance into your very soul.

He plunges his tongue into your booze-laced cavern, and you eagerly latch onto it like a hungry pup. He tasted of red bean paste, its sweetness a balm to your burning senses. He keeps a hand on your neck while you have your fill, biting your lower lip when you part.

You're panting, eyes glazed with wanton need. He strokes a thumb under your ear, and you smile.

You could drink all the alcohol you wanted, but nothing could make you drunker than Sano Manjiro's affection.

Haitani Rindou:

You frown to yourself as you waited outside the heavy steel gates of Roppongi's juvenile detention center. It's been six months since the Haitani brothers had been arrested because of Tenjiku. Along with the other Heavenly King named Mucho, they also scored a reduced sentence, and today will be their first taste of freedom in half a year.

You'd been forced to stay behind when the battle happened; Rindou told you that he didn't want to have to look after you while fighting. A cover-up for his worry, of course. The younger Haitani isn't known for being as emotionally apt as his older brother, yet somehow that rigidness of his is one of the things you love most about him. To this day, Ran still loves to give you both shit for it.

Rindou knew that you'd be pissed beyond belief once you got the news; he promised not to leave you alone again like last time. You didn't come to his trial nor see him when he got permitted for visitations. Ran is in a different cell, and he had nothing but time.

Of course, other than being absolutely furious with him, there were other reasons you couldn't come see your bone breaker of a boyfriend. With them detained, no one is left to defend their title as the Kings of Roppongi. No one except you, that is.

You're quite the force of nature yourself, even before meeting Ran and Rindou. Roppongi had been your stomping grounds since you were ten, and when they started making a name for themselves you refused to submit. Thinking back, it was quite a comical scene: a scruffy-looking little girl baring her teeth at two brothers who'd basically killed a man not too long ago. Despite how ruthless they truly are, they never stooped so low as to hit a girl, much less gang up on one to prove a point. Instead you became friends, and later on fell in love with the younger Haitani, and he with you. Together you ruled over Roppongi, and the rest is history.

So while your man stared at white walls in the slammer, you splattered blood across brick walls as warnings to those who thought they could conquer the city. All on your own, you reigned over Roppongi the entirety of their sentence, and now it's time for the kings to reclaim their throne.

You hear them before you see them; Ran's whimsical tones against Rindou's monotone rebuttals. They're wearing casual clothes instead of the jumpsuits, Ran's hair is in braids as always, but Rindou...

The extra inches of hair does something to you. It flowed around his face like a lion's mane, faded blue streaks shining in the noon sun. He's wearing contacts instead of his frames, and his jaw is sharper than you ever remembered it. Fresh out of prison, and he looks every bit the king of carnage you adore.

Licking your lips, you saunter over to them. The clacking of your heels turn their heads, and they smirk at you. You could see Rindou tense for a split second before reigning himself back in. Once you get close enough, you rear a hand back and slam it against his cheek hard.

Then you grab him by the collar and smooch him right in front of the jail gates. His recovery is quick, and he pulls you close in a vice-grip. You press a thumb down his chin and take his tongue right from his mouth. The light graze of your teeth against the flat of it earns a growl from Rindou. You left me again, you fucking asshole you hiss as you pull away. You doubted he really heard you though, because he dived right to your neck after your liplock. You sigh, meeting eyes with a disgusted Ran.

This man is going to be the death of you one day.

Mitsuya Takashi:

Throughout your relationship, Mitsuya is nothing but gentle. It almost gave you whiplash how different he is when he's with you and when he's with Toman. He's more than happy to bash some scumbag's face in, yet he couldn't look you in the eye if he shows up to school bruised the next day. You're one of the reasons he got so good at dodging blows in the first place-all of this just to keep you from remembering just how dangerously he lives.

His carefulness translated through his affections, most of all. He didn't hold you, he cradled you. When he kissed you, you could practically feel the repressed passion just burning beneath the surface. He treats you as if you were a dandelion on a windy day.

And while you thought his unspoken sentiments are nothing short of chivalrous and sweet, you also found it quite stupid. You knew what you were getting into when he sheepishly confessed, knew about him being a captain of Toman's second division. So naturally, you'd braced yourself for all sorts of chaos. Plus, only having to witness one side of him irked something inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. You'd made it perfectly clear that you loved him, bruises and all. Yet when he looked at you with such adoring lavender eyes, you couldn't bear to chide him for wanting to treasure you.

So, you decided to show him through other means.

You're waiting for him to finish inside the sewing club room. He's finishing the hemline of a kimono-a birthday present he's preparing for Draken early on. His eyelids hang low, but his gaze is as intense as ever. Nothing is said between the two of you, but you can't help staring at his pursed lips, now bitten red from his habit when focusing. You internally proclaimed your love for him yet again, unable to stop yourself from wandering over to his hunched form.

Just as he looks up from the sewing machine, you dive in with a kiss that, even you had to admit, is a little too intense to be this sudden. Yet you couldn't help it; even the simplest things he did could turn you into quite the sap.

He doesn't fail to reciprocate it, though. His lips, a little rough and a bit wet, switch from caressing your top and bottom lip each time you return to each other. Somehow, it ended up with you sandwiched between him and his desk, thighs on either side of his hips. His hands never stay in one place, smoothing down your uniform and rubbing your back. He never strays too far down your waist, and that tang of frustration sours your sweet little moment yet again.

Bracing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his jaw, you grind down hard against him. His mouth drops open in a barely contained moan, and you close your lips around his tongue. The noise he made when you licked at it could've put BL voice actors to shame. His fingers rake against the sides of your hips, jolting you out of your sultry scenario and into a bout of giggles. And while you sit there steaming in your embarrassment at ruining such a delicious moment, he simply gapes at what just happened, his face stained a pretty crimson.

Well, that was awkward...but you wouldn't have had it any other way.

#tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo manji gang #bonten mikey #sano manjiro x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #haitani rindou imagines #haitani x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya scenarios #mitsuya takashi x reader

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blanknamed · 4 years ago

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trial and error pt. 3 [senku x reader]

I had a lot of issues writing this chapter for some reason. I think I ran out of creativity for a good few weeks so I kinda struggled trying to keep Senku in character. I really just wanted to get the third chapter out though so I hope you like it!

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER THREE: FINDINGS

He was standing near his base by the time [Name] was done. From the looks of it, he had tried to dress up as well, even if it looked like the littlest effort was made. His hair stayed as big as it was, but what seemed to be a makeshift bowtie was settled on his neck (albeit lopsided, but [Name] didn’t really expect much from him in the first place).

“Jeez, who dressed you up, the local village boys?” She asked once she was within hearing range with Senku.

Scowling, Senku only shook his head. Flicking the strip of rag around his neck, he said, "Chrome and the bumbling fools of guards obviously haven't gone on dates before."

"I don't think you have much room to talk. Besides I’m pretty sure that was obvious," [Name] replied humorously, remembering when Ginro couldn't even look her straight in the eye during her and Senku's first few months at the village. "Why would you ask them of all people anyways?"

Senku raised his eyebrow, as if finding the question peculiar. "Who should I have asked?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the married men in the village?" [Name] suggested, watching as Senku furrowed his brows even more. Giggling, she shoved his shoulder. "So much for being a genius. What, were you so nervous to go on this date with me you forgot something as simple as retrieving data from the most obvious people?"

Senku rolled his eyes. "I'm busy with other things--saving the world from going back another thousand years in society, being one of them.” He reasoned as he turned his head away from her.

[Name] only laughed at him, pushing him to forward so they can start walking towards the woods. “Let’s just get this date other with, shall we? You didn’t forget to plan, I’m presuming?"

“Of course I didn’t. Do you take me for some idiot or something?” Senku asked as he peered at the younger girl, who only gave him a knowing look. Instantly, he shook his head. “No don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” [Name] trailed off. “Remember when you were so caught up in one of your projects you ended up putting too much laundry detergent in your washing machine?”

That day had been burned into her memory--it had probably been the only time she’d seen Senku visibly panic over something so mundane. They were helplessly watching the washing machine shake violently and become a soapy mess in it’s little area for almost an hour until Byakuya came home to a disgustingly sweet smelling hallway and two elementary school children covered in bubbled up laundry detergent from head to toe.

“Don’t remind me; I smelled like laundry detergent for two months.” Senku muttered.

“It was funny, though. Definitely took thoughts away from my dad and brother.” [Name] replied happily. She didn’t need to turn her head to see that Senku had immediately spun his head toward her at the mention of her father.

A warm silence followed between them, no doubt Senku was thinking of something to say--should he say something about it? Should he brush it off? Senku had known [Name] enough to know that, while he never took anything like emotions too seriously, she wasn’t exactly emotionally attached to much either. He didn’t doubt for a second that [Name] thought about her family during those late night preparations she partook with him when Kohaku or Chrome couldn’t stay up past the 20th hour like they did.

He also didn’t doubt that she had done the same thing he had done once she thought her family over--understand the probabilities of seeing her mother and finding her father and brother’s grave were most likely slim and choosing to focus the task at hand: saving the world from total chaos at the hands of Tsukasa and his wildlings. So, she kept it silent, just like she always did.

Should I even mention anything about that? He wondered to himself as he helped her walk down a narrow junction between some large trees. They’d known each other long enough to understand each other without much verbal communication. Even after not having much contact once Senku entered middle school along with the whole thousands of years of being petrified in time, they still had a weird connection with each other. Maybe that was why he decided to free [Name] of her stony confindes; no one else could read his mind or understand what he’s thinking like she does.

Whatever route he took, it wouldn’t be awkward, he finally concluded when they reached the river. He let [Name] hop on the rocks that stood above the water before following suit. “Right, that was the day they got into that car accident.” He stated once they reached the other side.

[Name] hummed. “Mom was stuck at the hospital all day and wanted to take me with her; I couldn’t bear the smell there. It was too clean. So I went to your place thinking you might need something since you’re so useless--OW!” She rubbed her head as she glared over at Senku, who looked the other way, acting as if he hadn’t just slapped the back of her head so hard it made her hair flip over her head. “Anyways, I thought you needed me for something and apparently you did, but I don’t think an eight year old could have done much if a ten year old couldn’t do anything except stand around and watch the mess. It was funny, though. Mom and I laughed about it after a few years.”

“Glad to know my endless suffering and pure shock brought joy.” Senku said sarcastically, though [Name] could pick up the light heartedness behind it.

Elbowing him lightly so he can turn to look at her, [Name] smiled at him. “Well just so you know every time I think of the dad and brother, I also think of you with a bubble beard right after.”

Senku, for a moment, felt something turn before he wrinkled his nose. “Did you just family zone me? During a date?” He asked disgustedly. It was his turn to get a slap on the back of his head.

“Seriously? That’s what you took away from that?” [Name] asked, irritated. She decided to look forward as they kept walking, however it seemed as though they walked mindlessly through endless amount of trees. “Where are we going anyways?”

“Just a few more feet. There’s a clearing close by; I think you’d like it.” Senku said as he nudged her forward.

[Name] covered her eyes as she began to notice leaves becoming lower and lower to the point that she had to duck and sometimes even squat to get through some spaces. Man, if I knew this would happen, I would’ve worn something besides this kind of dress, she thought reluctantly as she watched the ends and edges of the dress get dirtied. Still, she persisted as she had been curious as to what the clearing had looked like. She hadn’t gone so far in terms of exploring for the past few weeks; winter was coming and Senku needed every available person possible to help prep the village for the freezing season. She spent hours lining and sewing furs onto their cloaks and coats to the point that she left little prick marks on her hands permanently.

“Okay, we’re here.” Senku announced once they both managed to stand again. Shaking a few leaves away from her head, [Name] looked up to see a green clearing, like Senku said. However, he never said how… Ethereal it was. Wild flowers, ones she vaguely recognized to be new versions of flowers from the past, spread across the spanse of the field. Lightning bugs flicked and glowed every now and then, being the main source of light besides the makeshift lantern Senku was currently crafting beside her.

“Whoa,” was [Name]’s only response. “Don’t tell you found this last minute just for a date, Senku.”

A snicker followed right after. “No. I found it a few months ago when trying to collect foxtail millet for the noodles. Let’s keep walking, though. This isn’t what I wanted you to see.”

It’s not? [Name] thought as she let Senku lead her further past the clearing, walking around the flowers as best as possible. The walk was silent, which surprised [Name] since Senku sometimes never did keep his mouth shut when it came to his little experiments. Could it be he's taking this date more seriously than she expected? She let that thought cross her mind as she watched him walk ahead of her. Not possible. If anything, he might just be keeping things a secret since I'm the test subject. [Name] thought to herself. Why would he even take this seriously in the first place?

"Look I know this is a date and all, but could you not glare at me?" Senku finally piped up, looking at his companion warily. "You look like you're about to plot my murder?"

"Who said I haven't already?" [Name] quipped, finally shaking herself from her thoughts. "Anyways, where did you take us, Casanova?"

She laughed as she watched Senku's face scrunch up in disgust at his nickname. He opened his mouth, ready to spew an insult before he stopped himself, staring at the shorter girl. Sighing, he just waved a hand forward. "Look above you."

"Above…?" [Name] questioned as she craned her neck. She sucked in a breath as she looked at the lightened sky above her. Of course, she's had plenty of nights where she stood outside to marvel at the stars and sky--she had never seen it so bright pre-petrification. She had thought that was the brightest and clearest she'd ever seen when she was in Senku's observation tower.

That is, until today.

"It's so… So…" [Name] started, but couldn't quite put her words together. She felt Senku brush up against her shoulder as he finished for her.

"Beautiful." He complimented as he stared up as well.

The sky was littered with various shades of purples, pinks, and blues. There wasn’t a coud in sight, which allowed the stars to litter across the dark plain above them. Faintly, she can make out certain constellations, pointing out the ones she wasn’t too sure to her companion, who nodded in confirmation to all of them.

"Who knew we'd get to see the sky as non-polluted as this." Senku said as they continued to keep watch over the sky.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." [Name] laughed. "I thought the observation tower was something else, but you really outdid yourself here, Senku. I didn't even expect you to walk this far without having you get carried by Chrome or something."

"Killing the mood." Senku replied, flicking her forehead, though [Name] made sure to take notice of his shortened breath he tried to hide. She pretended to feign ignorance even further when she let him walk behind her, catching his breath behind some bushes and then shuffling around until he finally brought a basket out.

"Suika should've given better instructions on where to find this thing." The spiky haired scientist said. "It looked like it got buried under a bunch of dirt instead of sitting plain out in the open like she said."

Senku opened the lid, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out two bowls of his notorious green ramen, wrapped tightly in large leaves to keep it from spilling. With it came a makeshift picnic blanket (though, it just looked like old scraps of dresses sewn together over the years; no doubt Suika had asked one of the older village women if she can borrow it). Together, they worked to keep the blanket down, placing heavy rocks at the corners to keep it from flicking upward since the wind picked up a little stronger from where they placed themselves.

"This ramen tastes gross." Senku groaned once he settled down, though it didn't stop him from continuing to eat it. [Name] only rolled her eyes as she ate it herself (though she did have to agree with Senku; the ramen was gross, but she put up with it anyways), basking in the windy air.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything yet about the information you’ve gathered for this date,” [Name] said. “Usually you relay the data to me once you get it all down."

“Can’t exactly tell the subject about the data I’m gathering about them.”

“Oh but you’re dying to tell me, aren’t you?” [Name] pushed. Truth be told, she was more curious on just how exactly he thought of the experiment. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it, but she had zero idea on what his plans are--what were his variables? Was he gathering information? Was he including numbers or was all of this just pure observation? There was no doubt in her mind that someone was observing them as well; most likely Kohaku since she’s better off at hiding and watching without being noticed once.

“Maybe. I’ll tell you after I’m done with this whole experiment.” Senku replied as he took a sip of the water packaged with them before handing it off to her. [Name] took it graciously, taking a few sips as she thought about his wording.

Quirking up her eyebrow curiously, she asked, “Wouldn’t that be tonight?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Senku confirmed. “You think one night will determine this whole thing? It might take more days actually--a few weeks even. I’ll gather all my information, relay it to you, and then confirm whether or not love is just a construct of emotions for me. Which it will be, from the information I’ve gathered.”

[Name] watched him in disbelief. There was no way she actually heard that correctly. Weeks? How’s that going to work? Would I even last a few weeks managing to go on more dates with this idiot? She questioned. “Wha-- I-- Don’t you have a grandiose plan that requires all your time and attention?”

She only received a shrug as an answer. What the hell does that even mean? She questioned herself as [Name] watched Senku stretch. He was the one repulsed by the idea of going on a date. Why would he extend this to weeks? She let herself wonder, pulling all the probable possibilities as to why he decided it so suddenly. Sure, Senku was right about not being able to gather enough information from just one date, but he could have easily just done one or two more nights of their little experiment dates instead of presuming it down to a matter of weeks.

Finally it finally hit [Name]: he was hiding something. What it was exactly, she’s not entirely sure, though she knew Senku was probably planning something stupid that could most likely put him in danger, or worse killed, which in turn would cause her to intercept and talk him out of it. He was probably using this date shenanigans to distract her from his death inducing plans.

Squinting her eyes at him, she decided to hold back on her on findings. After all, if he isn’t bothering to tell her what he’s gathering on her, she’ll do the same. Instead, she sighed, opting to make it seem as if she should have known. “You’re unbelievable.” [Name] replied.

“Oh, I know. That’s what gets you on your toes right?”

PREVIOUS PART - NEXT PART

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thesunshinebunny · 4 years ago

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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part I)

Series Master list

Pairing: Canon Eren Jaeger x reader

Content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter Summary: After watching their teammates die in battle, reader begins to question their sanity and of their so-called partner.

AN: let me say goodbye to my favorite girl, who got me the best laughs and relieved my anxiety while reading manga chapters. At the same time, let me succumb to the misery and enlarge the wound with an canon Eren. I won’t be against following this fic if I see that a lot of people like it, but my list of fandoms isn’t going to change, this will be a unique exception.

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The chill in the air from the airship rushed through my veins. Less than two hours ago, I had seen countless comrades die, each one of them struck by bullets in different parts of their bodys or eaten by a Titan. I had seen countless lives fall and had been unable to save any. I knew we were going on a suicide mission, but deep down inside of me, I hoped we would all come home alive.

I was very naïve to think of a happy ending in this rotten and violent world.

Inside the room I was in, my mind wandered looking through one of the few windows this war machine gave us. I wasn't paying attention to what Levi or Eren were saying, I didn't even have the slightest intention of asking why Zeke was with us. Although being a member of the Survey Corps and a direct and in training medic, I was not fully informed of the missions. Eren’s courtesy.

Bored and mentally tired, I left the room where my leaders were having a heated discussion with "humanity's last hope." I didn't have the strength to add more charcoal to the fire, but trust me when I tell you I wasn’t at all happy with Eren's plan, simply and exclusively because I was completely unaware.

I walked down the hall making a mental note to kick the brunette in the face like Levi did when we got back. If my so-called partner, who had the decency to slowly push me away over the last year without explanation, wasn’t confident enough to tell me whatever was going on in his mind, then we would be in front of the doors of a serious conversation back home.

I opened the door where the scouts were when I heard a rifle go off. My eyes went wide and fear washed over me. I instantly scanned my body for wounds, completely ignoring the situation happening in front of me. Finding no sign of impact, I looked up only to find Sasha falling on her back, with a bullet impact on her chest.

The world seemed to have frozen as did my body. No one was able to move. Blood was spreading around Sasha's body, staining the floor, and that's when I reacted. My body moved on its own, pulling the cloak off my shoulders and folding it to make a small pillow. My ears didn’t catch any screams or cries from my teammates, as if I was underwater and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating, threatening to come out of my ears.

"I need a syringe with anesthesia, a pair of tweezers, a needle, a lighter, bandages and hot water, NOW !!"

No one was moving, everyone was in shock, including me, but I was layered enough to know that if we didn't do something, Sasha wasn't going to survive.

"Jean, Connie, I need surgical elementes! NOW!!"

The two boys came out of it, running around the room, even going to the continuous, looking for something that might serve, while I tore Sasha's shirt and took her equipment. Mikasa was next to me grabbing the pieces that were in the way.

"Mikasa, I need you to put pressure on the wound and don’t move your hands"

Connie came running back with the anesthesia in hand, trying to give it to me, but me failing. The syringe fell to the floor, but thanks to whatever deity was watching us it didn't break. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, making it impossible for me to inject the needle into the glass vial.

“Sasha… I need you to stay awake, ok? I need you to keep your eyes open at all time"

The dying girl in front of me didn't give me an answer, but I knew she heard me. In the background, I could hear the desperate cries of the others, apart from the fact that someone had hit the culprit in the face. I injected the anesthesia and proceeded to remove the bullet from the lung. Mikasa reapplied pressure with wet cloths.

"Sasha everything will be fine, I assure you, everything will be fine, so don't you dare die on me, okay?"

I couldn't tell who I was addressing those words to, the girl who gave us the best laughs in our training days, or me.

Lighter in hand I proceeded to cauterize the wound, but my eyes fell on Sasha's, noticing how the life had left her eyes. The light that was so bright in her pupils had faded, leaving nothing more than an empty countenance.

"Sasha?...Sasha? hey, this isn’t funny, Sasha wake up…Sasha?? SASHA?!!?!" ...

"SASHA!!!"

Again.

Again I’d been unable to do anything.

Again I’d to see how I was unable to save someone.

Again.

I had seen a mate die. Again.

My chest contracted, the air was impossible to get in or out and my lungs cried out to explode. My stomach wanted to regurgitate, but there was nothing in it, causing me to spasm. My vocal cords were damaged from screaming and my head was about to collapse.

My whole body was about to collapse.

"How dare you!? You son of a bitch, how dare you to shoot the person who forgave your life?"

My anger was now directed at the child they had wanted to bring with us. It was impossible for me to look at her without having the desire to break her face, to make her suffer ... to kill her. To take revenge for Sasha.

“SHE FORGAVE YOUR LIFE BY NOT GIVING YOU A SHOT IN THE HEAD AND IS THAT HOW YOU PAY HER? YOU HATE US SO MUCH? HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO YOU WANT TO TAKE FOR US TO BE SATISFIED?"

My legs got up, leading me towards the girl, but arms held me from behind, preventing me from continue walking, preventing me from taking revenge.

"HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU ARE THE REAL DEVILS"

In the end, my body collapsed, completely loosening and causing me to almost slide down Connie's arms. I fell to my knees when he released me, snuggling up and hiding my head in my arms. Tears flowed like waterfalls with no intention of stopping and my screams reverberated across the metal in the room.

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Connie opened the door where our commanders were still arguing. Both with tears in our eyes gave the worst news of the night.

"Sasha died"

Jean and Hange's faces were disfigured and Levi hid his grim outline from us. The room was silent, but all that could be heard were my sobs, spasm after spasm.

"She had a ... a bullet impact ... in ... in the chest ..."

It was difficult, almost impossible, for me to relate the precarious medical report of our friend's death, trying to help me with the movement of my hands ... but even so the spasms won me over. I fell back to the floor, tears invaded my face once more and my ability to articulate words was gone down the drain.

Hange approached with a slow step and placed their hands on my shoulders, giving me the help I needed to give the report. I took several minutes of deep breaths and when my lungs returned to normal, I spoke again.

"Sasha had a bullet impact on the chest, on the left lung ... There was no exit, so the bullet was stuck in there...it pierced two ribs, tearing the skin of the lung and causing internal bleeding... I managd to remove the bullet, but I didn't have time to cauterize and sew the wound ... she bled to death"

Every pause I took to breathe made it so much worse for me to speak back. If it weren't for the fact I was undoubtedly taking deep breaths, I would have passed out from distress and hyperventilation.

"I could have saved her ... I know I could have saved her"

Silence reigned over the room, sobs from Hange and Connie could be heard if we were paying close attention. Jean and Levi glared at Eren, who had not deigned to lift his head at any time.

I got up as best I could, running Hange's hands gently, and left the room once again. I needed to be alone for a while, I needed to let go of these horrible feelings, I needed some air, otherwise I doubted I’d do anything rational in the state I was in.

My legs led me to a room away from all the common ones. It was empty, but it had a couple of windows that chilled the already cold metal walls. Some windows were at my height, allowing me to appreciate the view from the air, but let's face it, it was impossible to appreciate the landscape when your mind and heart were breaking to pieces. The only thing that kept my mind intact from any collapse was the path of smoke and fire that could be seen in the distance... signs that Marley was still on fire.

"Are you ok?"

That familiar voice, all too familiar, echoed in my ears pulling me out of my entrance. Eren had entered the room quietly with the aim of… what? See if it was okay? Because I really wasn't, it showed on my face and that's what made me even more angry than I was.

"Oh, I don't know? Am I ok? Do I FUCKING LOOK OK TO YOU?"

I turned from the window too quickly causing me to stagger and fall to the floor. My head was spinning and starting to ache as was every muscle in my body. I put my hands to my head, hoping the pain would dissipate a bit, but the only thing I managed was to sink further into misery.

"I could have saved her ... if I’d been faster ... I know I could have saved her"

He hadn't moved from where he was, he just stayed there, looking at me. My blood-soaked eyes looked him up and down searching for something, whatever, to speak of, but all I found were non-glare eyes and a neutral gaze, as if he hadn't cared how many lives this mission had claimed.

"Do you want to know how I feel? Fine, I’ll tell you"

I stood up heavily, my muscles begging for a break. I turned my head to see the black smoke rising on the horizon, still clearly noticing an orange and red flare.

“I am tired…I am full of rage and hate. I saw our comrades die and I couldn't do anything, I was unable to save them ... to save Sasha...and all because of not having been informed like everyone else"

My eyes hadn't left the window because I knew, if I looked into those dull turquoise eyes, those same eyes that once shone with all the innocence and life that a young man could have, I would end up punching him.

"Are you happy? Did you accomplished your mission now that you have the power of the warhammer titan? What will be the next step? Go back to Marley in a few months, finish what you started and devour the jaw titan and Reiner? Assassinate the cart titan?”

Again, I got no response. My patience had already reached it’s limit and I looked back at the man who was now standing in the middle of the room.

"You're not going to tell me, are you? No, you never say anything to me, it's like I'm a burden to you" I shuffled on the metal, standing right in front of him "I'm with so much anger in my veins that I want to kill a child, a child Eren! ... A child who had her head washed all her life, a child who doesn’t know the whole truth and who only knows that by killing she can be free"

Unconsciously, my body moved everywhere, as if it wanted to release all the pressure by tiring the muscles. I stood back in front of the window and with all the accumulated anger I gave it a strong blow, slightly scratching the glass and probably breaking some knuckles.

"Sasha died because of my incompetence and the violence of this world...I want to save lives Eren, that's why I'm practicing medicine...I want to dedicate myself to saving souls, not killing them...and we have the culprit stuck in one of our rooms...why?" ...

“WHY DO WE HAVE TWO CHILDS ON OUR AIRPLANE? WHY IS YOUR BROTHER WITH US? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD?"

I was sure that my screams could be heard by our entire war machine. I was impatient for answers, but knew I wasn't going to get any, at least not now. My hands didn’t remain calm, they moved everywhere, a sign of my anxiety and my eyes turned around the entire room, looking at each screw, each metal beam... everything except the eyes of my supposed lover.

I was giving up, now I just wanted to rest and have a trip home in peace, even knowing that home was not going to sound the same or feel the same.

"If you have nothing to say Eren, you better leave"

I turned my back on him but didn't proceed to walk away from him. I needed to find an anchor point so as not to give up and throw myself into the arms that one day gave me warmth, the arms that wrapped me in the dark, the arms that reflected their love and affection ... into the arms that now wouldn't hold me from the waist or draw me to his chest. I wasn't going to throw me into some arms that weren't going to contain me.

I heard him take a few small steps towards me and his hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I put it aside abruptly and I distanced myself towards the remote window, seeing how little by little the smoke was getting smaller and I could no longer see the orange flame clearly; now I could only see a thin yellow line fading.

"Leave Eren"

His footsteps rumbled on the metal floor, leaving me alone once and for all.

The trip back was going to be a long one and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if there was anything for me in our home. Nothing was going to be the same anymore. Without Sasha, without Eren and with a war on our feet I doubted to even call “home” a piece of wet land in the middle of an ocean which is still the target of a world full of hate.

#aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #sasha blouse #angst #eren smut

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simply-sithel · 3 years ago

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Waaaaay back on April 1st, there was the Edwardian Ball!! A fantastic event to throw myself back into Life after covid lockdowns. A quick email check shows I’ve been attending the Ball every year (minus 2021) since 2008- back when they were at the Great American Music Hall!

It’s been good, it’s been great, it’s been iffy, it’s been meh, it’s been a long time. This year was one of the better and I cherish in particular the memory of dancing like mad while staring up at the pulsing lights and firmly holding onto the feeling of ‘this is what a good time feels like’ - tending to a particular itch that hadn’t been scratched since 2020...

I’ve been sketching at the Ball for years [2018 / 2015 / 2015 / 2013 / 2013 / 2008 / 2008 / 2008 ] in notebooks purchased or made (before bookbinding I used my sewing machine to make a booklet 😅) and this year was no exception. The “book” was a little speed-run of assembly that afternoon focusing on: toned pages, a secure clip to hang from belt, coptic stitch to open easy/wide, and a yellow tone to match my outfit. Success?

One of the highlights for me was seeing both new acts & attendees but also the old & familiar ones. In particular I’ve been sketching Justin Katz (first picture) from Rosin Coven (contrabass) this whole time. Distinctive, friendly, easy to capture from stage’s edge or balcony. Seeing him (and nailing a not-bad imo sketch) of him brought great joy-- is this what playing Pokemon feels like? Also beloved is Shovelman (third picture)! Big fan of his music (bought a CD years ago) and of his look- been enjoying (and sketching) his act for years, even caught him at Make Faire once!

More pictures & mutterings under the cut

Really appreciated the removal of the VIP level this year-- I used to purchase it and the spirit of elitism does seem in-line with the theme of the Ball but it’s just better gone. Curious to see how it goes next year-- sad that it’s moving back to early February -- seemed fitting to be on April Fool’s day and I didn’t get fucking rained on waiting to get in....

Being able to stand basically in-line with the stage, perched at the far end of the balcony, is a boon for sketching. I mean, yes, I do enjoy a good dance & doodle but that’s hard to maintain the whole night.

Downstairs, in the vendor hall, sports a charming little stage that I enjoy visiting. This year had a trio working it for large stretches- some sort of... swing? Makes me think of a French cafe? My naming of genres is weak... Was able to (poorly) captured the artists from a couple different angles however. Of seven sketches, only two came out- one of which is my favorite of the night (image above, between pictures of spines) which suggests something to me about trying and not giving up and failure is a side effect of process and eventual success or something.

Used somewhere around 2/3rds or 3/4ths of the pages, probably good for one more concert/event. For I swear-- attending a show w/ sketchbook in hand (provided there’s enough ambient lighting to see your page) is one of the best ways to consume live music. Can always tuck it away if the jams are particularly divine but to sway and sketch.... some quality active listening there and you get artifacts better than a photo to recall the event by!

#edwardian ball #sketch #drawn from life #figure drawing #review #bookbinding #not pictured- all the warmup sketches from the models posing for Dark Garden Corsetry!

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emwritesfootball · 3 years ago

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Her Majesty's Men 2 | Mason Mount

Word Count: 1,512

Warnings: mentions of drugs, but that's about it. An intro to the Men

- - -

Notting Hill, London, England

Declan double- and triple-checks the address that Mason sent him as he walks the streets of Notting Hill. It’s for a pub he’s never been to before, but he’s heard rumours about a secret underground club modeled after the American Prohibition Era that has exotic dancers.

“Dec! Hey!” Mason greets Declan the moment he walks into the pub. “How have you been?”

Declan shrugs, hating that he has to break the news to Mason like this. The two of them grew up at Chelsea’s Academy together, remaining friends even when Dec got let go. A few years later, Mason was let go, too, and the boy in front of him seems to be doing fairly well. “West Ham let me go last week.”

Mason curses, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, mate. Can’t believe they can just let us go like we’re expendable.”

“Yeah.” Declan smiles ruefully, sighing. “I’m staying with my sister but I know she wants me to get a job - I want to get a job - but I don’t know where to start. I remember at that party last year with the rest of the Chelsea Dropouts where you mentioned something about working for the Queen and-” Declan pauses, confused as to why Mason is howling with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You think- ahaha - you think I work for the Queen?! Oh, my god!” Mason wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “I guess you could say I work for Liz, but not in the way you think that I do…”

“Liz? You call the Queen by a nickname?!”

Mason snorts, the laughter threatening to return again. “How about I show you instead?” He looks at his watch, draining his beer, and Declan finds himself doing the same thing. “Follow me, Deccers.”

Declan follows, his mind slightly occupied with the fact that he saw Mason drop two £20 bills on two pints at the bar before walking away.

The rumours were true. Declan can’t figure out how he couldn’t hear the raucous laughter and thumping bass from the DJ in the booth. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the DJ, but he’s impossible to place from so far away. Instead, Declan focuses on Mason, watching as his ex-teammate weaves through the crowd. It’s all women, he realizes, but then someone slaps his ass as he walks past and he turns to find an older woman looking at him appreciatively.

“Are you one of them?” She asks, shouting over the music.

“Who?” Declan responds, confused.

Before she can reply, Declan feels Mason’s hand wrap around his wrist and pull him through a door. The music dampens, seeping through the door, but only to provide a backdrop. “Don’t stop for the vultures, mate. Although, I think that one’s more of a cougar than anything.” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head.

“Hush! Like you haven’t thrown yourself to the cougars more times than any of us!” Jack Grealish’s Brummie accent gets Declan’s attention.

“Sod off!” Mason rolls his eyes, turning to Declan. “Don’t pay Jacky Boy any mind - he’s just here for the brainless hen party pussy. You might remember him from a couple friendlies between our academy teams, but I guarantee you that Jacky here probably doesn’t remember you; poor boy doesn’t even remember his own name half the time.”

Jack flips off Mason, but he keeps talking. “These are the lads that make up Her Majesty’s Men. We’re all football-academy rejects, so it’s like a family since we all know what the other’s been through. Stonesy - you’ll meet him in a bit - kinda brought us all together. It was pretty much his idea.”

Declan looks around the room, realizing where he is. The room looks like a changing room except instead of kits and boots and training gear, there’s costumes everywhere. A ratty futon that’s seen better days is against one of the walls; Jack ‘Jacky Boy’ Grealish sits on it, and something about the way he’s sitting on it tells Declan that the futon isn’t for anyone but the ex-Villa Academy player.

“Right. Anyway, this is Happy Ending Harry. Gave his youth to Tottenham, but she was a cruel mistress.” There’s a mirror with lightbulbs around it that looks like it was either stolen from Marilyn Monroe or a fifteen-year-old girl, Declan isn’t sure which. Harry Winks sits in front of the mirror, checking out his reflection as he puts on...blush? Declan wants to ask but can’t bring himself to form the words. Harry’s too lost in his own world to do much of anything, almost resembling a Ken doll in a way that both intrigues and intimidates Declan.

“Big Dick Dier. Loaned from Portugal to Everton, but you can see how that turned out. Man can speak at least two languages but there’s not a woman out there who cares about that once they catch a glimpse of what the Big Man is packing.” Eric Dier picks himself up off the floor after doing a round of push-ups, giving Declan a nod in greeting and going back to the sewing machine to work on… a g-string? Declan’s a little disgusted but he’s glad he’s not the one handling that. The man’s wide shoulders and large hands radiate Big Dick Energy and Declan would be lying to himself if he wasn’t at least a little curious to take a peek at that pecker.

“Last but not least: Tarzan Ty.” A man with dreads stands in one corner, stretching. He’s got tattoos and a massive scar on his knee that Declan’s curious about but knows better than to ask about. He looks familiar but he’s definitively older than the rest of the lads Declan has met so he’s not sure he recognizes him from any sort of training academy. Mason starts his introduction, but Ty cuts him off.

“Tyrone Mings,” he says, introducing himself for Declan. “Southampton Youth ‘til oh-nine. They let me go ‘cause I was too short - joke’s on them.” Ty laughs and Declan joins in. “Got a serious question,” he continues, shoving his non-scarred knee in Declan’s face. “That look ashy to you?”

“Uh…”

“Here,” Mason giggles, tossing him a bottle of what looks like self-tanner but Declan doesn’t question it, squirting out some of the lotion and preparing to massage it into Ty’s knee. It’s the oddest thing he’s done since being let go, but Declan just tells himself that he’s rubbed weirder substances on his own joints. He realizes that Mason was right - this place, this group of ex-footballers, really does feel like a family. He’s only been here a few minutes but already the camaraderie is there. Big Dick Dier teases Happy Ending Harry’s appearance like the two of them were teammates at Tottenham or something; Tarzan Ty has what appears to be a ritual, shoving Declan’s hands off his knee once he realizes the new boy was actually going to do it.

“So, here’s how it works. We do a group act first, then solos, followed by hot seats. If everything goes well, we get these birds all jacked up and then we raise the price of the hot seats so don’t fuck it all up for us, all right? That’s it, that’s all ya gotta do.” Declan tries to focus on what Mason is saying but it’s damn near impossible as he watches Eric stick his dick inside of the contraption and start to pump, his cock stretching to an absurd length. He quickly realizes that Eric’s got his dick inside a penis pump, watching as the big man’s already-big cock grows like the Grinch’s heart. Eric’s sporting the most insane look, his jaw slack but his eyes intense like he’s focused on something else, taking deep breaths as his cock stretches longer.

A voice entering the room cuts Mason off, the DJ coming into view. He’s speaking, but Declan can’t understand him. “This is Kyle, our DJ. Kyle, Deccers; Deccers, Kyle. He’s gonna be giving you the cue before each act.” Kyle hands Mase a water bottle filled with something and Mason’s eyes light up. “Pregame! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“It’s the love potion,” Kyle says in a weird voice, giving Declan a wide-eyed look.

“What is this? Strawberry?” Mason inspects it, pouring some of it into the cap and downing it.

“It’s a little mixture,” Kyle explains at Declan’s confused expression. “Got the recipe from a friend in Miami. He calls it Hey Juice.” Declan’s been around enough drugs to know that it’s GHB, but he keeps his mouth shut. “If you drink the whole bottle you’ll go ‘Hey!’” He flamboyantly sways and snaps his fingers. “You’re gonna like it, bro. Give it a sample.”

Declan holds up his hands, taking a step back. “I’m good, mate. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“That’s cool. More for me, I guess.” Mason shrugs, downing another cap.

The sounds of the crowd cheering start to seep through the walls, a man’s voice coming through too. “All right, all right, all right!”

“That’s Stonesy. Let’s get you ready.”

<< >>

#her majesty's men series #declan rice imagines #mason mount imagines

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

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New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself.

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that.

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys.

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present.

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!”

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed.

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel.

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing.

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?”

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.”

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance.

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch.

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were.

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?”

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars).

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside.

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking.

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person.

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien,

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!”

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her?

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

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#felinette #Felix Culpa #Marinette #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids

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