#this got buried in my drafts and i completely forgot im so sorry

[solomons-poison]

can you do solomon x reader from the prompt 27?

First Time with Solomon

A/N: I sure can, anon! Since it's not specified in the prompt list, this'll be written as Solomon and reader's first time together, rather than just one or the other's. But if you'd prefer that, I can also write that too. But I just love the thought of, no matter how experienced either one is, the first time together feeling like a whole new experience. I also definitely didn't forget this in my drafts....

Featuring: GN reader || Solomon x reader

Warnings: NSFW of course, minors and ageless blogs DNI; bottom!reader, soft Solomon supremacy 💜

══════════════════

The first time with Solomon is nerve-wracking, for both of you. Despite his usual confidence in most situations, you always seem to have the ability of catching him off-guard and making him feel young and almost inexperienced, regardless of how seasoned either of you are.

That's why, when you two do decide to take things to the next level and sleep together, Solomon can't believe how nervous he is. But its exactly that nervousness that shows you he cares and wants to make sure you want this as much as he does.

He's a very caring partner, whether or not you're romantically together doesn't matter; even if you'd just decided on a friends-with-benefits type situation, he still prioritizes your comfort and wants to make sure you want this.

He's not typically one for quickies, he's instead very thorough with you, mapping out all your sensitive spots and exploring you, to see what reaction you make when he makes a move. Squeezing your waist, gripping your hips and thighs, running his hand along the curve of your ass and across your bare shoulders.

He'll make use of his mouth as well, if you want, using his lips and tip of his tongue to trace along the shapes of your body, kitten licking the tip of your arousal and sucking lightly at your nipples, leaving hickeys on the side of your neck. He knows his erogenous zones well, he's had quite a lot of time to study them, so you're in for a full experience.

If there's anything in particular you want to try out, he's very receptive to it. As mentioned in a prior post, Solomon is open to experimentation; he's willing to try most things once, and as long as you're willing to try it too, he will do his utmost to make sure you feel comfortable and safe while doing it.

And once he's sunk into you the first time, he's a lost man. Perhaps it's because of your close relationship through the magic arts, or simply excellent chemistry, but everything about you makes him practically drunk and he just can't get enough of you. If this was intended as a one-time deal, he may have a hard time staying away. All in all, the first time with this wizard is a magical experience, pun intended.

[rimunagenius]

Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team. 

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps. 

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers. 

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up. 

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way. 

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession. 

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession. 

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give. 

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign. 

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make  it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing. 

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other. 

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate. 

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you. 

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea. 

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads. 

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation. 

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months. 

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment. 

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with. 

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours. 

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember. 

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck. 

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. 

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips. 

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back. 

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe. 

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it. 

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again. 

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

[books-and-dragons]

pegoryu (pre-established) post-interrogation hurt/comfort fic. has mentions of nightmares, trauma, and implied physical assault. unedited and for that i big apologise in advance

___________

okay!!! so this fic has been sitting in my drafts for months (lol what else is knew i know, shush i’m getting to the point) and i was supposed to post it on ao3 at the same time as i did a couple of others, however never got around to it bc it needed editing and im too lazy for that

likelihood is, i will edit and post to ao3 at some point, but it needs some BIG rennovations and i just can’t be arsed atm

so yeah, apologies for the shoddy writing in advance xoxo

but for now, i wanted to post it on here. today. as a sign of goodwill for the year to come. (ie. i own p5r, still havent played it, need to play it, and hope posting this will kick me into gear)

so, hope you enjoy!! and lmao if not it’ll just get buried as i start to revive this blog so,...win win?

In the first few nights since the interrogation, Ryuji stayed awake, listening to the fragile shudders of Akira’s breath in the night. So sensitive to every breath of air restricted by broken ribs, Ryuji hadn’t needed to look across the room, to gaze at the beaten figure on the bed, to know how his face was contorted in pain- unmasked in sleep.

He refused to so much as close his eyes until Akira’s breathing levelled out, still shuddering and restricted by pain, but deep enough to assure him that Akira was asleep. Only then, Ryuji allowed himself to rest.

Nobody else stayed the night. They lingered until the last train, crowded around the attic bedroom, gaze worriedly resting on Akira until the final second, where they’d leave with the accompanying chime of Leblanc’s door closing. But not Ryuji.

Ryuji, who had refused to leave Akira’s side since the moment he’d returned to their arms, beaten and drugged up, hardly coherent, but so relievingly and perfectly alive.

Akira hadn’t been alone since, Ryuji ensured that much. Torn over so much as going across the road for a bath, he couldn’t leave the other boy alone- something pulled at him to never let that happen, a pit of fear in the bottom of his stomach that pulled at his every nerve.

Maybe it had something to do with the nightmares, the visions of Akira lying broken on cold tile, at the mercilessly unrelenting hands of the police, the images of Akira lying dead, blood pooling from his head, the way the images seemed to haunt him even when awake- but there was no point reading into it. It wasn’t important, especially not now.

What mattered was that when he woke up, breath haggard and skin shining with sweat under the light of outdoor streetlamps, Akira never woke. Wasn’t even perturbed. 

Ryuji tried to be thankful for it, tried not to think about why Akira was suddenly such a deep sleeper. Ignored the puncture wounds on his neck, the bottle of painkillers by his bedside. Akira was resting, and that was enough.

Even if it didn’t make sense that, when morning rose, the dark circles under Akira’s eyes had grown. That he tried to muffle pained yawns behind bandaged hands, and begged for more coffee- even though Takemi had put him on a temporary ban.

Because Ryuji had seen him sleeping, watched the rise and fall of his chest as Ryuji reminded himself that Akira was alive and safe, it was the sight that lulled him back to sleep from a nightmare. So why did Akira always look so tired?

He tried not to let his growing concern show, there was already so much to be worried about, he didn’t want to add another. Especially not when it could be nothing but his own annoying thoughts.

It wasn’t until the next night, after a particularly painful and thorough visit from Takemi earlier that day, that Ryuji started to reconsider.

Blearily opening his eyes to the dark lighting of the attic, Ryuji didn’t need a clock to know it was well into the middle of the night, and that he’d been woken up from his sleep, again.

But it was weird. There was none of the usual constricting fear, the blind panic- he’d hardly even started seeing the figure of a beaten Akira surrounded by shadow, let alone begun imagining the worst. 

About to blame it on the lumpy and painful springs of the couch and try to fall back asleep, Ryuji caught it. Quiet, as if muffled by something, but just loud enough to penetrate through the silence in the attic and reach Ryuji: crying.

No. Not crying.

Sobbing.

Ice burning in his stomach, he carefully lifted the blanket and rose, wary of creaking springs and the sound of rustling fabric, towards the shaking figure on the bed.

His voice was barely above a whisper, carrying clearly and softly through the silence as he carefully extended an arm, not touching, only hovering, “Akira?”

The responding flinch broke Ryuji’s heart all the more, as a head rose from under the covers, bloodshot eyes wide and darting around the room in panic, hair wildly askew. 

Moving as slowly as he dared, Ryuji sat at the side of the bed, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s only me.”

As the mattress shifted under him, Akira froze. Muscles tight and unyielding, back as ramrod straight as his broken ribs would allow, the entire body braced for something Ryuji didn’t even want to think about. His gaze was distant, somewhere far away from Leblanc, from the blond sat right beside him.

It reminded Ryuji of his Ma, in the months after the divorce. Curled up together on the dingy bed, they’d cling to each other so tight even in sleep, waking up in the morning sweaty and sometimes a little uncomfortable, never minding because they woke feeling completely safe. But there were the nights when his Ma’s screams would wake him in the early hours, recoiling and shaking even in her sleep. Ryuji would sit upright and watch over her until sunrise, would try to pull her from the memories he knew haunted her. Haunted them both.

Looking at Akira, the striking familiarity of the situation made him want to hurl.

He didn’t move, no matter how strong the urge was to reach out and console his hurting best friend. Instead, he kept his voice quiet, just audible above the laboured sobs, and waited.

“You’re okay, Akira. You’re safe, I’m not goin’ anywhere, alright? You’ve got me, it’s okay-”

Slowly, the frantic scanning of the room stopped. Staring at the artificial yellow light that bathed Leblanc’s street, following it into the shadows of the attic, where dark figures seemed to fade away. The flash of blond in his vision, perfectly still, aside from the hushed mutterings leaving chapped lips.

Akira focused on that sound. It felt safe.

As Ryuji uttered soft words of reassurance, he watched the tension slowly leave Akira’s body. Shoulders slightly slouched, jaw unclenched, his lip was bleeding- but he could worry about that later. All that mattered was the softening of Akira’s lines, as he slowly came back to Ryuji.

Delicately as he dared, he reached out. Hand brushing against bruised skin, careful not to as much as press on the marred areas. For a moment, there was no response. He waited, watching the panic continue to leave until, slightly trembling, Akira’s hand interlaced with his own.

“Ryuji?” The hazed look in his eyes was clearing, staring at Ryuji with a newly discovered relief, which was quickly overtaken by shame, “Shit- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, just go back to sleep I’m fine-”

“Hey no, no man it’s okay, really-” Feeling Akira begin to pull away, Ryuji let his thumb run over the back of his hand, determinedly meeting Akira’s gaze, “I don’t mind.”

Akira opened his mouth, ready to retort and insist, but found himself silenced by the look in the other boy’s eyes. Ryuji’s hand was warm, and for a moment Akira forgot there were even any injuries there at all, thumb tracing over them with such a delicate touch he hadn’t known the blond to have possessed.

Staring into Ryuji’s eyes, he wondered at how they were always so open and unguarded, never with anything to hide- a true reflection of his best friend, passionate and honest to a fault. It was something Akira had often envied, that ability to always be his true self, to freely display his emotions. 

He almost took that back now, staring back into deep brown eyes. Eyes which so clearly reflected hurt and worry.

The raw concern so honestly displayed to him that, just in this moment, Akira decided he would allow himself to be vulnerable. Just this one time. Knowing that, as they had done for each other so many times before, Ryuji would never judge.

Hesitantly, Akira pulled his hand out of Ryuji’s and, ignoring the concerned look he got in return, allowed his hand to trace higher, around his forearm, pulling him closer with a silent plea.

As always, Ryuji understood.

Carefully reaching out, Ryuji wrapped his arms around Akira, pulling him to his chest. His touch is firm, but cautious of the bruising and bandages decorating Akira’s abdomen. Even then, careful as he was, the occasional shift sent twinges of pain up Akira’s spine. And yet, he found he didn’t mind- not when he was so surrounded by warmth and comfort and the steady beat of Ryuji’s heart just audible through his chest, that for a minute Akira feels like he can just forget-

Somehow, Ryuji shifts so they’re leaning against the back wall, Akira’s head resting high on Ryuji’s chest, ear pressed to his left side. Logically, Ryuji supposed now would be a good time to ask about what just happened, about the dark circles under Akira’s eyes and the fear still lingering when he caught sight of shadows in the room- but there would be other opportunities. When Akira wasn’t so damn exhausted and clinging to Ryuji like he’s the final lifeline holding Akira together. When neither of them would be waking up in the middle of the night, a frenzied mess, and worrying about suspicious strangers in public and carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Yeah, there would be other times to talk. But for now, Ryuji would stay with Akira and listen as his breathing mellowed out into deep breaths, as his grip on the blond weakened and he cuddled closer still, lost to the throes of sleep.

Ryuji will stay with him until the sun rises.

Neither of them were plagued by nightmares for the rest of the night.

[angry-geese]

47 & 50 ?

Hi! Sorry it took me a bit to answer this one but I wanted to wait until I got to my laptop so copy pasting the chapter sneak-peek was easier lol

47 - what fanfic of yours is truly underrated?

tbh i really couldn't say. though i do have one older fic in mind but its a jjba x reader and its called devil town (ao3 link because i prefer ao3 for multi chapter fics)

for jjk im not really sure. my first instinct is to say blood ties just because its a multi-chapter fic and i know on tumblr those dont do nearly as well

50 - a teaser of an upcoming chapter?

i went with chapter 29 of blood ties since its my only multi chapter wip lol and it ended up being a bit long so its under a cut. since its my rough draft theres probably going to be a few spelling/grammer errors since i haven't gone back through to check for those yet

“Watch them open the prison realm and it's just empty,” you say.

“Don't joke about that.” James says, swing his fist into your shoulder.

“Why not?” You say with a scoff. “No one else is gonna do it. I can think of a million different ways this goes wrong.”

What if they can't get the prison realm open? What if something happens to Gojo while he’s inside? What if Gojo is trapped in there until the end of time?

Couldn't Kenjaku, in theory, cast the prison realm to the deepest depths of the ocean, leaving the currents and silt to bury it? There's how many miles of ocean floor? You could spend every minute of each day for the next century searching for him, and never find him.

Because we know more about the moon’s surface, than we do about our own oceans. All he’d have to do is head to some place—the Marianas trench, or whatnot—and toss it in. How would you get Gojo back then?

Without the front of the prison realm, there is no opening it. So if Kenjaku were to cast it aside—toss it into the deepest depths of the ocean, or cast it into some volcano where it’ll be impossible to fish him out—there would be no freeing Gojo. No Gojo means that you, and everyone you care about, are completely fucked.

“I'm counting on Geto still being alive in there.” James says, bringing his hand up to inspect his nails. “I could still sense his soul—it's not like it's missing. He's still rattling around in that skull, right alongside Kenjaku.”

“So Geto’s alive?” Asks Kirara.

You flinch at the sound of their voice. You forgot they were there.

“If you want to go by technicalities, then no, not really.” He says. “There's no brain activity on his end. Think of it like a brain transplant; if you’re medically brain dead, and someone who’s not medically brain dead gets theirs transplanted into your body, is that still technically you? Are you the brain, or the body?”

“The brain?” You say. But it comes out as more of a question, than an answer.

How would that even work? The human brain holds everything a person is, or once was, or ever will be. All your thoughts, your ideas, your memories. Without that, your body is simply a husk. Or does the soul exist outside of these two physical things? What truly makes your body yours in that case?

“I can only assume that what Geto’s dealing with is akin to being in a coma.” He continues. “Or maybe locked-in syndrome is a better word for it. He’s likely aware of what’s going on, but has no control over his body. But instead of not being able to move at all, he’s being puppeted.”

That sounds… awful. There's a million other fates you’d let happen to you, before you’d allow something like that.

plus here's a little bit from my outline of chapter 32 :)

It's not until you're alone that you can truly bask in his presence.

The bed dips under your weight as you sit. You shed your bag, and coat, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. Your sword is set down with far more care.

You're reluctant to let yourself relax. To give in and be comforted. But you can only hold off for so long, letting your body sink into the coolness of his.

Choso’s kindness isn't sympathy; it's the real thing. And you’re not certain how to deal with that. To allow yourself to be handled with care. The love you both know is not a soft one. It hurts. All it's ever done is hurt.

Fanfic ask game

[salty-dracon]

SA- Day Job

Before he was the Dark Angel, he was a genius, according to Helion Kronus...

Ten Years Ago

A scrawny young man stood behind his boss. He held a suitcase in his hand. His brown hair was messy from the long trip.

“Nervous?” Helion asked.

“No, sir.”

At last, the group walked in. Some were chewing on sandwiches, some were sipping coffee, but they all shared an expression of boredom. 

“That ‘im?” one of the men asked. Oliver read the name tag. “Andrew Markes”

“Yes, that’s him.” Helion said, motioning to Oliver. “Oliver, these are the men you’ll be working with.”

“Yes, sir.” To everyone’s surprise, Oliver gave a medieval-style bow to the group. “It is an honor to serve under you, my lords!”

Markes laughed. “This is the 21st century, kid.”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

Helion laughed. “He’s saying stand back up, Oliver. And stop calling him ‘sir’.”

Oliver quickly snapped to a standing position. 

“How old are you, anyway?” Markes asked.

“Eighteen.” Oliver said.

“You haven’t even been to college?!” another man exclaimed. “You must be fresh out of high school!”

“High... school?”

“Oliver was homeschooled.” Helion explained. “He has been isolated for most of his life. He does not understand much of the modern world.”

“That’s correct... ” Oliver said.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Markes interrupted. “So you’re telling me that this teenage boy who knows nothing about anything is going to work for us?”

“No.” Helion said. “While he is a teenage boy, and he knows nothing about anything, he will not be working for you.”

“I won’t be?” Oliver asked.

“No, of course not, Oliver.” Helion smiled. “They’ll be working for you.”

“You can’t be serious!” Markes exclaimed. “That is a kid! He can’t even think straight!”

“If you’ll let me finish... ” Helion interrupted. “There is something Oliver knows quite a lot about. That is engineering. He has the brightest spatial mind on the planet. I’ve seen the man fix watches, repair phones, and solve complicated tasks in mere minutes. That, combined with a mind for advanced calculus, has made him into a virtual analysis machine.” 

“A kid?!”

“Yes. And you can trust me on this.”

Oliver had never heard such high praise from Helion. He beamed. 

“He is only missing one thing.” Helion continued. “That is where you come in. The things that he designs, you will be building. His position is far too important to be wasted on anything else. Anything he asks of you, no matter how small, is to be completed. His sanity and mental state are infinitely more important than any of your positions. Are we clear?”

The group of men stared at Helion and Oliver. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” Markes stammered. 

“Oliver’s office is in room 2105. Lead him there, and get him anything he wants.”

“Yes, sir.”

Oliver followed the men to the office. He couldn’t understand why they were grumbling. 

“Ever ridden an elevator?” Markes asked.

“Yes, I have. Twice.”

“This kid, I swear.” Markes grumbled.

The office was the perfect size. Oliver immediately went to work, drafting out everything he needed. The men watched in fascination as he gave them the plans.

“Sir, what do you need two random wood planks for?”

“Woodcuts, to go on either side of the door. I love woodcuts.”

“Are these thin curtains or thick?”

“Thick. As thick as you can get them.”

“A bed?”

“Yes, for the closet.”

As Oliver watched the men leave the room, he sighed happily. He was going to love his new job. 

----------

He hated his job. 

Draft this, draft that. Only a few months in, and he was already tired of the drafting. It had to be perfect, for the new style of holophone. What was Helion doing anyway? Probably nothing. There was nothing he needed more than a break. He started by laying out two napkins on his desk. 

“Markes?” he asked, through the intercom. “Please order two fresh chocolate chip cookies for me, and leave them on the napkins on my desk. I’m going out for a bit.”

“Okay.” Markes’ voice replied. “One more thing. The boss wanted me to pass on this message- his kid’s running around the office. If you find him, just let him know.”

“All right. Thanks for telling me.”

Oliver grabbed his wallet and left his office.

---

He walked back into his office, holding a bag filled with fast food burritos. He was about to sit down and eat one when he realized that the cookies he had asked for weren’t there. He noticed an oily stain on the napkins where the cookies had once been. 

Under the desk, he heard someone hold their breath. 

“Who’s there?” Oliver sat on his chair and leaned under. A young boy, only about six years old, was holding both of his cookies and eating one. He recognized the white hair and big blue eyes.

“Oh, hello, Nickel!” 

“Mmm!” Nickel groaned and took another bite of the cookie he was eating. 

“You took my cookies.”

“Buzz off.”

“Tell you what. You give me one of my cookies back, and I’ll let you stay here. Deal?”

“Sure.” Nickel gave up one of the cookies. 

Oliver took a bite. “They’re really good, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.”

“You want some more food? I brought back some burritos. They’re Ranch’s, so-”

“Really? Yeah!”

“Here you go.” Oliver passed down one of his burritos. “Now tell me why you’re hiding here. I heard your dad’s been searching all morning.”

“He got mad at me.”

“Why did he get mad?”

“Because I messed up on something.”

“What did you mess up on?”

“I was doing some math homework, but my teacher said I got half the problems wrong because I didn’t look at the problems right, and then I only got half of a grade, and my dad’s mad about it.”

“About a grade?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the rest of your homework?”

“I do the rest of my homework really well. Because if I don’t, Dad doesn’t get mad.”

“I see. Come here. I’ll protect you from your dad.”

Nick climbed into Oliver’s arms. Oliver allowed the boy to sit in his lap while he completed his draft assignment on the holo-V in front of him.

“Mr. Perch, what is that?”

“It’s a holovision. It allows me to create 3D models. See, it lets me see things like they’re 3D. So I can carve little notches into these gears, see?” Oliver carved notches into a disc. 

“Cool. What do you do with it?”

“These can be turned into plans. These plans are used to build things. See, what do you want me to make?”

“Make a pencil.”

“A pencil? All right.” Oliver created a cylinder, and then carved six faces into it. He sharpened the end into a point, and then curved off the other end. “See, simple.”

“You’re really smart, Mr. Perch.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Nick blushed and buried his face into Mr. Perch’s suit. “If I’m having trouble with my homework, will you help me? Please?”

“Of course, my boy.” 

The next moment, the door slammed open. Helion Kronus stormed in. Nick clung onto Oliver. Oliver’s hands quickly wrapped around the boy. 

“Oliver, there’s something wrong with the last draft you sent.” he said. “The gears aren’t connecting because they rub up against the battery.”

“I thought I fixed that.” Oliver plugged a small flash drive into the holo-V.

“Did you send the latest version?”

“I guess not.” Oliver pulled up a file, which opened up as a series of holographic gears on the holo-V. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Send it right away.” Helion demanded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Also, what is Nickel doing in your office?”

“We were just talking.”

“Nickel, we have to talk about that assignment. Why didn’t you read the problems correctly? That isn’t what the heir to Kronus Tech should do!”

“I said I’m sorry!” Nick cried and hugged Oliver. Oliver held him closer.

“It’s all right, child.” Oliver stroked Nick’s hair. “Everyone makes mistakes. You said I was really smart, right? Well, I forgot to send the latest version of the gear draft. That was really silly, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t encourage him!” Helion snapped. 

“It’s all right if you make a few mistakes.” Oliver continued. “What’s important is that you put all of the effort you can into your work. You’re already a very bright young boy. I’m very proud of you, even if your dad isn’t.”

“Th-Thank you, Mr. Perch.” Nick hugged Oliver.

“You’re welcome, boy.”

Nick jumped out of Oliver’s arms and ran out the door, into the hallway. 

“Oliver, what was that for?” Helion growled. “You just turned my own son against me.”

“Your own son doesn’t deserve to be hounded for one bad grade on a test. I know enough about the public school system to recognize that. You apparently don’t know enough about children like him to raise one.

 “Besides,” Oliver’s voice grew light and wishful. “his heart is so innocent. He deserves to be loved despite his very minor mistakes.”

“Pshht. Only something you would say.”

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

One Year Later

The first guests were just stepping into the formal party.

“Hello.”

“Hello!”

“Hello, Mr. Kronus! It’s such an honor!” A woman shook Kronus’s hand, followed by Oliver’s. “Who are you exactly?” she asked.

Before Oliver could introduce himself, Helion spoke. “This is my new head draftsman, Oliver. He’s played a huge part in our recent successes.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, madam.” Oliver smiled.

“You too.”

It was then that Oliver noticed a young girl poking her head out from behind the woman’s legs. He knelt down and held his hand out. 

“Hi there. I’m Oliver.”

The girl hid behind her mother’s legs again. 

“That would be my daughter Annie. Shy thing.” The woman picked her up. “Say hi to Oliver, Annie.”

“Ha-ha-haaaiiii...” the girl managed to say.

“Hi to you too.”

“Oliver, we’re not here to greet children.” Helion growled under his breath.

----

As the night went on, Oliver was tasked with taking care of Nick. Presently he was stroking the boy’s hair as he slept in his lap. 

“Mommy... ” The same young girl from before was wandering around aimlessly, looking at all of the adults for a sign of recognition. 

“Annie, are you lost?” Oliver called her quietly. Annie wandered over to him. 

“Who’ssss... he?”

“This is Nick. He’s very tired. I’m sure you’re very tired too. Do you want to sleep here?”

“No.”

“Do you want to wait here with me? The party will be ending soon. I couldn’t talk to anyone all night.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like to dance?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you dance a lot for your mom?”

“No.”

“Do you want to dance for me?”

“No.”

“Too tired?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m tired too...”

Oliver watched the young girl fall asleep next to Nick. 

A familiar feeling filled his heart. It was warm and gentle. The purest sort of feeling. These sweet children trusted him. They were his friends. Dare he say, almost like family. 

“Both of you look so cold.” Oliver took his coat off and covered Annie with it. He pulled Nick up closer to his body. 

Pure little angels, both of you. You are always welcome in my arms.

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

The Present

“Afternoon, Mr. Perch.”

“Good afternoon, Nick.” Oliver observed Nickel as he went to sit down. He had grown quite strong, and his features were well-defined. His eyes scanned his homework quickly and efficiently, picking up all of the keywords (Oliver’s headset scanned the approximate direction of his eyeballs) and yet not missing a single other word. He had long since abandoned him for homework help, but still continued to work in his office, and Oliver enjoyed the company.

“How’s your mother? Has she recovered?” Oliver asked.

“She’ll recover soon.”

“Good to hear.”

“I’m hungry. Can you ask someone to grab us cookies?”

“Sure.” Oliver pressed a button on his desk. “Markes, can you get Nick and I some fresh chocolate chip cookies?”

“Sure thing.” was the reply.

There was no time to waste. Oliver got straight to work, designing a case for a watch and fitting all of the little bits and pieces inside. 

As Nick watched Oliver manipulate the drawings inside the holo-V, his eyes went to Oliver’s chest. Supposedly, three years earlier, Oliver had been in an accident, requiring him to wear a bandage around his chest to keep his back aligned. He also apparently experienced frequent migraines, and sometimes even seizures. It scared Nick at first, but Oliver told Nick that there was absolutely nothing to fear.

No one knew what was under that bandage, or why Oliver even wore it, in this day and age, when scar tissue could be removed with laser technology. In fact, there was a lot about Oliver that couldn’t be explained. He had a list of fake names, bought most of his things with cash, and managed his own private network through a microserver. 

It happened. Oliver grabbed his head and shouted. 

“Mr. Perch!” Nick stood up. 

“Nick!” Oliver gripped the edge of the table and held his bandage. “Ugh! H-Hold on, I’ll be back soon.” Oliver stumbled out of the room. Within a few minutes he was back, looking completely normal. 

“Are you okay?!” Nick shouted.

“Fine, my boy. My back pain acting up, that’s all.”

“All right.” Nick raised one eyebrow, but then went back to his homework. 

Oliver smiled at the boy. Little did the boy know how close Oliver had come to revealing his true self- the Dark Angel that terrorized the skies. He could control the world if he wanted to. And yet, he could never control a slipped bandage bending the feathers of the very wings they were supposed to hide.

(TL:DR- Angel started out as a teenage prodigy named Oliver, who then met some kids, really wanted kids, and then somehow got this way.)