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the-travelling-witch · 1 year ago

Note

Hi hi!!! I hope you're doing well today ^^ Here is a hydration reminder if you need one!!!

I rlly wanted to join with the selfship game (yalls too cute, just read the latest post), I hope these haven't been asked yet; 💐🎡💗 with Childe, Xiao, and Albedo!!

thank you!! i try my best keeping these idiots in check hshsh (also what’s hydration /lh)

💐: How did you two meet?

[answered here]

🎡: What are your favorite activities to do together?

Childe loves dragging me out to spar or work out. And as much as I love it, often enough he pulls me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn. But, although I complain a lot, I know it's a good thing to do, not only to get in some excercise but also to fix my sleep schedule; I do feel a lot better after a sparring session. Especially because I can kick his ass for waking me. ("It still hurts, you know?" - "Good.") Otherwise, cooking or baking together is also a favourite activity of ours. Cleaning the kitchen, however, is not...

"You get a 3 for keeping the kitchen clean but a 10 for knife skills."

"I'll focus on the end of that sentence, thank you very much."

On the calmer side, Xiao and I love exchanging knowledge and traditions of our respective cultures. So, we often teach the other one handcrafts and spend the afternoon making charms or bracelets or flower crowns while soaking up the tranquility surrounding us. On that note, I also really enjoy talking walks together. Xiao has an incredible awareness of all things nature, so there's always something to see. Getting comfy in the shade of a tree with soft grass underneath us, listening to the wind and being greeted by the smell of flowers is another big plus for it.

"I still remember the one time you had your head in my lap; you looked so cute dozing off like that."

"I did not! I was merely resting my eyes."

"Of course you were. But it was still adorable." ^^

Aside from occasionally blowing something up during an experiment, Albedo and I are on the calmer side as well. Most of the time, we end up doing creative work, like painting or writing; even if we don’t work on the same project, just being in the same room while listening to music is already healing enough.

“I am rather fond of working on big projects together though.”

“Oh for sure. I’m not sure how much the others enjoy us turning the house upside down though.”

“I SWEAR TO THE TSARITSA, IF I STEP INTO ANOTHER BUCKET OF PAINT-“

💗: How do you two like to cuddle?

Cuddling with Childe is like having a huge dog who still thinks he’s a tiny lap dog. Seriously, 154cm vs 191cm/ 5ft vs 6.2ft… yeah, I got myself a nice weighted blanket. It even peppers me with kisses!!

No but seriously, Childe almost acts like he’s dying when he can’t hold me close. His favourite thing to do for both hugs and cuddles is holding me from behind; arms wrapped tightly around my waist, my head tugged under his chin and feet tangled or leg slung over my thigh/hip (he’d do it standing up too if I didn’t stop him). If I happen to get up during the night, a) how did I get out of his vice-like hold and b) he wakes up immediately and sits in bed like a lost child(e) until I return.

That being said, I’ve gotten quite used to just being picked up and carried to bed or being pulled down onto the couch, especially after Childe had a hard day at work. But if I tell him to wait, he’ll trail behind me throughout the house until I’m not busy anymore. On the other hand, I also love flopping my entire body onto his, so I get why he does it.

Alternatively to me being little spoon, there are times where he’ll just plop down on top of me and put my hand in his hair so I can play with it. It’s also a peak position for him to steal one or the other kiss.

“Babe, come here?”

“Gimme a sec to finish this real quick.”

“Just say you hate me.” ㅠㅠ

I said it before, Xiao is a little hesitant to initiate physical intimacy and needs a little time to get into it. But it’s not like he’s touch-averse, he’s just very cautious with it because it’s something that has not been very present in his life before. Yet, once it’s been established that this touch is okay, he’ll slowly relax into it.

While I’m normally all for being held, I adore lying face-to-face with him and running my hands through his hair and down his spine. Feeling him tighten his grip on my waist as I press a soft kiss to the diamond shaped mark on his forehead, our hearts beating in sync, is the most gratifying thing there is. I can’t help but giggle when he tucks his head in the crook of my neck in response.

On the other hand, Xiao has no inhibitions when it comes to being protective. If he feels like he has to make sure I’m safe, he has no problems wrapping an arm around my waist, palm resting in the dip of my back. So we’re somewhat evenly matched on holding each other.

Although, I completely understand that it can sometimes be overwhelming to be so physically close. In that case, depending on how we feel, we might settle for just laying our head in the other’s lap or merely linking pinkies. The latter also helps when it’s too hot outside to cuddle but we still want to establish some physical contact.

“My love, is there a reason you’re burying your face in my chest?”

*muffled* “…no”

“Alright then.”

I absolutely love love love sitting in Albedo’s lap with my back to his chest, especially when we’re reading or sketching. But also while binge watching a series, it’s an amazing position for Albedo to point out why what we’re seeing would not actually work in real life. It’s also great to keep his hands busy by playing with and braiding my hair while I can just lean back into his warmth. And since both of us have no concept of time while focused on something, we often end up falling asleep and waking up in a very weird positions.

I also just like curling up at his side and putting my head on his shoulder to see what he’s working on or plopping myself down in his lap while he sits at his desk. It’s healing to just listen to him work away and pressing a few kisses to his collarbones every now and then.

But it’s not like we only ever work while cuddling. Snuggling up together is perfect to talk about our days, what gossip has been going around or what kind of findings Bedo came across today.

“Do you remember the drunk guy who spilled the beans on how he cheated on his wife?”

“From when you went drinking with Kaeya? What about him?”

“She found out today. Man that was a screaming match but wow she dropped some nasty lines.”

“You didn’t get yourself in danger though right?”

“Nah I was pretending to listen to music while browsing the book isle. I could still hear them from across the shop though.”

Also, on a related note… CUDDLE PILES!! Aka peak chaos time

“Get your nasty foot off of me!”

“Only if you move your hand! You’re way too close anyway!”

“I’M too close?? You’re hogging her!!”

“Bedo, are you good?”

“I’m quite fine, stardust, don’t worry about me.”

[self-ship ask game]

#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡#┊✩彡 cherished guests ♡#┊✩彡 letter from — shiro ♡#ੈ♡˳ the witch’s lovers┊͙#ੈ♡˳ chilly┊͙#[other ship names still to be found]

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felixisislost · 2 years ago

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Boyfriend to Death 2: Fresh Blood Fanfic [Authors Note: I'm not the owner of the Boyfriend to Death series, I just really like the games and lately Ren has kind of been a comfort character, especially since life is kind of really bad and shitty right now. If you know the games, then you will know all the warnings. This is just a self insert fic I'm writing for myself to help get through a tough time and to try distract myself from real life issues. So, please, no judgement in this, ok. Just how I'd react in this (fictional) situation. I do not condone kidnapping, murder and so on, this is just a work of fiction. Also, I kind of feel like Ren would have a voice similar to Len Kagemine (for reference to what I mean, like his voice in 【鏡音レン君feat.女子】＋♂【オリジナル】but like the lower part of the 'PIPIPI' if that makes sense) ]

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/~Chapter One~*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ Going to a bar was not my usual way to spend my Friday nights, but what else did I really have going for me, and bars were good places to meet people, right? * I'd spent my whole walk home debating what to do. I needed to get out of the house, and the Wi-Fi was supposed to go down later on tonight, something about something or other, or so says my landlord. That left me with little entertainment, and I really wasn't in the mood to do any more writing. So, I figured, "Why not hang out in a bar, make some friends?!" I mean, what better way to meet people than when they're shitfaced and (hopefully) a bit more sociable. What's the worst that could happen? My body was slumped and my feet were dragging. A pathetic sob slipped past parted lips and a rather visible pout hung on my face, like how you hung a painting on a wall. My stupid job had me swamped, today's trainwreck of a day hadn't gone over too well. Too many Karen's visiting, I groaned, rubbing my aching body, fumbling with my keys. Work was tiring, life was stressful and I was too out of myself to even attempt to continue my book. I mean, heck, I tripped just trying to get through my apartment door. I was exhausted and just wanted to wind down and have a good time before I had to go back on Monday and do it all over again. Kicking the door open, then shut, I threw my keys on the nearest piece of furniture, and flopped down on my little, uncomfortable sofa. "Home sweet home" I groaned into the pillow I had shoved my face in. It was rather lonely and empty in the little, yet sufficient apartment's. I had considered looking for a roommate, but it was hard to tell how to go about it. If I wrote in the news paper about it, who knows what kind of creep could turn up, and that cost an unnecessary amount of money to do. I would have gotten a dog, but the rules strictly were not pets. The way that my landlord liked to pop in unannounced at random made it impossible to find any roundabouts or cut throughs. "Stupid bitch has something agaisnt me, or s'mth'n" Peering up, I shook myself out half heartedly, streatching until I felt my bones crackle and pop. Something shiny on the little round coffee table caught my eye as I tried to think cheeryer thoughts. Ever since I moved here, I'd kind of lost contact with my old friends, and it's not like I had any family. Then there was my job, my workmates were a little too serious to hang out with, and the neighbours were always arguing and glaring at the whole world. So, I was pretty much alone... .... Ok, so I was more like 60% alone. 90%. Entirely. A month, I've been here a whole damn month and I have no friends, I sobbed, pulling my body across the couch, arms dangling over the side while I moped. Flicking a hand forward, I snatched up my phone from the coffee table. Turning it on, I made a mental note to remember to not leave it there next time. I always forgot it when I put it there, and today was no exception. Because of that little mistake I went without food today, and it just so happened to be a very busy work day, figures with my luck. The only physical money I had was a few fifties I stored in my phone case, and my stomach was howling. I wasn't a breakfast person, so I hadn't eaten at all today, and my stomach was screaming at me to hurry up and heed it's calling. Scrolling through my phone, I tried to look for somewhere relaxing to go, but not too relaxed. It wasn't really my usual style to go out to bars, I actually prefered to stay home and relax, but today felt different. I'd never actually been to one before. Aaaaand as much as I hated to admit it, I was lonely, I wanted real people company. Even if I didn't meet anyone, it wouldn't hurt to get a little drunk, I mean, it's not like I had work tommorrow. Pulling up a list of 'local watering holes' I weighed up my options. "Cafe Royale, sounds too high class for me, Route 66 sound kind of cool, but more like I'd get beat up or robbed based on reviews..." I huffed a sigh, and kept scrolling. "Oh god, Jazz bar's defiantly ain't my vibe..." Even the name, Snapdragon Jazz lounge, sounded wayyy out of my league. After a little debate, I scrolled back up to the top 3, eyeing The Jackalope. "Open 4 pm - 2 am, it's got good enough reviews, and I don't care too much if the food is greasy, at this point i'll take anything" I sat up, feeling better and better about this place. Peeling off my work clothes, I rushed to take a nice shower, and threw on my favourite clothes. A black button up with wavey white marble like stripes running up the fabric and a pair of black ripped jeans. Sure, it wasn't fancy-fancy, but it looked good and was comfortable. Snatching up my phone, I pulled up directions, adding an excited bounce in my step. Practically jumping down the stairs with a newfound energy. I'd miss every few steps, only just managing to (somehow) not go crashing down the slightly uneven vertical plain. It sucked, but the shitty elevator was broken. Again. Meaning four flights of stairs and multiple bruises for me every day, as well as a 12 minute walk to work since I couldn't drive. Well, that's one way to get my steps in. Literally, I laughed to myself, hurrying out the door. I didn't like living so high up, I had a slight distaste (or the fancy way of saying fear) for heights. After a couple wrong turns and shady passbyers, I winally made my way up to the bar. It was rather empty inside, but the interior was appealing and cozy. Making a beeline for the bar, I swiftly ordered a Strawberry Vodka and a bit of the cheapest food they had that would actually taste nice. All the bartender could really suggest were fries and a burger (Though he did grimace and whisper a warning about the mess). No matter how hungry I was, I ate neatly and slow. I always was a neat eater, even more so in public. Most of the patrons finished up rather quickly, and the bar was mostly deserted. The mixture of warm, dim lights and soft music playing in the background lulled me into an airy state, and I could feel my head tipping along with the fuzzy warmth the alchohol gave me. After several hours, I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep. My face almost stuck to the bar as I pulled myself upward, mouth warm. "Oh god, did I fall asleep?" I mumbled to myself, gazing about whilst I streatched. The bar was practically empty, except one lone guy, sitting idily at a far away table by himself. I couldn't even see the bar tender. Flipping my phone upward, I was dissapointed by the red flash indicating 'Dead battery'. Glancing back at the seemingly gentle blonde, I wandered over, "Umm, excuse me?" The young man seemed rather distracted, and a bit jumpy as he turned his gaze up from the table towards me, "Err, y-yes?" "Sorry to disturb you, but umm, do you have the time by anychance?" I held up my dead phone up sheepishly. He hesitated with his response, glancing at the table, then at another corner of the room. "Uhh, yeah, the bar's closing in 15 minuets" "Oh, geez, thank you" I laughed nurvously. This guy seems kinda' unsettled, I thought, wondering if I should back off. Maybe he isn't a people person? "Are you ok? I asked him, changing my stance so that he knew I could leave with a word if he wanted me to. The last thing i'd want to do is make anyone uncomfortable. "Oh, umm... yeah... i'm just waiting for-- a friend" He said in a rather broken, nurvous sentence, avoiding eye contact. Nodding, I wondered again if I should leave him alone, when his friend appeared. He was only about 2 inches shorter than me, and he seemed rather spritely, sporting a cheerful grin. The red-head was actually rather cute, I couldn't help but blush. On each of his cheeks lay a curious crimson triangle, only adding to his appeal and mystery. But it wasn't just that, it was his smile, it was infectious. "Hey Law--" He cut himself off, gazing at me, a sharp flash of panic lasting not even a second appeared in his face. As quick as it had come, it was gone so soon, I wondered if I had imagined it. "Oh, who's your friend?" Trying not to seem akward, or stare too much, I mustered a friendly smile, "U-umm, sorry to bother you, I was just asking the time, I can leave--" The small man grinned, "No, no, it's alright, my name is Ren, it's nice to meet you!" I had to physically stop myself from sighing in relief, I was interested in a conversation with the attractive young man. "I'm Eliza lee, it's lovely to meet you as well" I smiled, holding out my hand, to which the ginger shook it with a firm, yet gentle handshake. His hands were soft. When he let go, he stared up at his tall friend, Lawerence, and the pair said nothing for awhile. Tilting my head to oneside, I wondered if I was coming into the middle of something, "You all right, Ren? I can leave if i'm disturbing you--" Shaking his head, Ren cntinued to keep his lips in an their inviting, friendly curve, "No, no! It's quite alright, everything's great! Let me get us a round before the bar closes" I didn't have a chance to respond, because before I could even open my mouth, he was already trotting over to the bar, humming to himself cheerfully. Throwing me a quick glance, Lawerence quickly skuttered off, shadowing his friend. Cocking my head to one side, I sat down and watched them. Or, well, more Ren. I noticed he had a few scars, they actualy looked rather cool. Wandering into my mind, I missed the fact that it kind of looked lke they were arguing. When they returned, all trace of their past conflict was gone, and I was oblivious to what was going on. Setting the drinks down, Lawerence attempted a more confident smile. Offering a smile back at him, I gazed down at my dappled reflection in the (what I assumed to be) rum. Tracing a finger idily around the rim of the glass, Ren held his drink up. "Cheers" Echoing him, something felt... odd. The longer I stared into my drink, the more my gut wrenched, instincts screeching at me. Now, I wasn't someone who assumed the worst in others, no, I liked to believe each person was good in their own way and I hated making negative assumptions. But something was wrong. Really, really wrong. Was it perhaps the incredibly faint sweet smell I could detect in the drink infront of me. It was incredibly faint, almost unnocitable, but with alcohol, I was a bit of an expert, and I took care in noticing when something was wrong when I was going to ingest something. Nonchalantly, I reached over, claiming Lawerence's drink as my own, carefully sliding my own over to him in a sort of trade all while the pair stared at me, flabbergasted. Rum and coke, I noted, setting the now empty glass down, flashing an awkward half smile- blush mess. Oh god, why did I do that?!-- However, I noticed that Lawrence didn't touch the drink that formerly was mine. Ren stode up, looking rather antsy as fidget about. It's getting late, and the bar's closing up now," Ren ffered. "I'm... going to leave now" Lawerence looked panicked, staring at his friend as if he'd grown two heads. "You're leaving?!" He gasped in disbelief. Shrugging, Ren avoided eyecontact, making a hasty retreat through the door after throwing a soft "S-sorry" our way. Dashing after him, Lawerence, at a hulking 6'2 was surprisingly fast, dissapearing outside without a trace. Frowning, I internally cursed, wishing I had asked the curious short man for his number. "Damn, so much for making friends..." I let out a breathy sigh, placing a rather generous tip on our table before leaving the bar. The fresh, crisp cold air hit me like a brick wall, flooding my sences. It was cold and stung my nose, but I liked it that way. I loved the cold air of the night, it was so refreshing and made you allert and awake. Nearby, the road was surprisingly busy for the time of the morning that it was. Jumping, I felt a sort, sharp tap on my shoulder, yelping in surprise. "Jeez, Lawerence, you coulda' given me a heartattack" I teased, despite clutching my pounding heart. Lawerence struggled for words as he stared rather darkly at me, unblinking. "...Ren's path.... split from mine" Glancing at him confused, I said nothing, hoping he would elaborate. Or was he just drunk? "Well, he probably just went home" I tried to reassure the mysterious giant, still kind of lost in this conversation. I was tensing up, feeling something was severly wrong. Lawerence was actng funny, and the thought of the drinks made me feel even worse. Maybe i'm just imagining-- Eyes widening, I was dropping into a duck before I could even register what was happeing. My body had moved purely on instinct, and I managed to avoid most of the blow that lined up with my head. I wasn't quick enough to avoid it entirely, and the sharp thwack that reverberated off of my skull made my ears rings while I stumbled backwards. "Shit--" Cursing through clenched teeth, I spun on my heel, trying not to wobble from the booze, dashing into the nearbye allyway, panting hard. Skidding to a halt, my body slammed into the brick wall, sliding down onto the dirty floor, clutching my throbbing head. It'd been a hot minute since my head had taken a blow. Head spinning, I spotted a fluffy tail across from me, it looked like a foxes tail. "Am I dieing?" I wondered. Foxes were my favourite animal, and I doubt any foxes would live out here. Crawling forward, vision woozy from the skull bashing and the alchohol, I reached forward. Turning around, the tails owner crouched down abruptly, pulling me up. "Eliza?!" The voice belonged to Ren, "Come with me, i'll get you somewhere safe" Legs becoming jelly, I leant on Ren for support. And I continued to until I passed out.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/~Chapter Two~*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ Letting out a groan, I forced open my eyes, feeling about the soft chair I was resting in. My head was pounding, and it felt worse trying to remember what had happened. Shifting about, I straightened up momentarily, only to flop forward, clutching my head. Eyes shooting open, I swung my head left and right in panic. Where am I-- "Oh, you're awake!" Ren appeared infront of me, incredibly quiet to the point I couldn't stop myself jumping. "Do you feel better?" "Besides a bit of aching, i'm good. Thank you for rescuing me... Your friend... he wasn't stable..." I admitted, wondering why he had attacked me. I mean, I hadn't acted provoking at all. He already was acting strange when I first went up to him. "... So, now that you're awake, I bet you're feeling hungry. Why don't I make you something to eat, hmm?" Ren purred, gazing down at me. I felt strangely small under his watchful eyes. As if on que, my stomach rumbled, only adding to Ren's amusement. "That's very genrous of you, are you sure it's no trouble?" I asked, not wanting to be an incovenience. While I stared up at him, I wondered about the ears and tail. Is he cosplaying? Or a Furry? I wondered. "It's no trouble!" Ren was pleased by my answer, tail swishing ever so slightly in aproval. "I have these really nice--" Chuckling, Ren nurvously rubbed the back of his neck, "Haha, sorry, i'm rambeling, just gimmie' a sec, okay! Sit tight~" Ren padded off to the kitchen rather merrily. I watched after him, a small smile decorating my lips. That was, until I shifted in my seat. Klink. Rattle. Klink. Eyes widening, my head shot down. Thick steel links connected my ankle to the nearby wall. I was fully awake and aware now, fear and panic lighting up my face. Reaching a hand up to my throat, I was met with the cold outskirts of more metal. A collar, or rather some form of shakle lay rest on my neck. I began to tense up, feeling about the peculiar device, trying to work out what it was. "Oh my god--" I whispered, panic setting in. Turning towards the doorframe in which Ren had dissapeared, I knew i'd have limited time to think. The soft sounds of tinkering and sizzling of a skillet could be heard. I froze, unable to to move or make a sound as my throat closed up. What in gods name do I do-- Calm down, 'Lizzie, relax, you gotta' calm down, I tried to slow my thumping heart, closing my eyes and rubbing my temple. Sucking in what was supposed to be a deep, calming breath, I rolled my head in attempt to loosen up (If that was possible). After several minuets, Ren returned with an admittedly delicious smelling plate of food. Now that I took a nice long look in his eyes, I noticed that they had a rather animalistic quallity to their ginger-brown hues. In certian lighting, it almost looked like the rims glowed gold. (Not really canon, just my headcanon) Handing me the plate, I dipped my head in a short gesture of appreciation, "Thank you very much, it looks really good" "Looks don't mean much," His next words came off as devious and playful, a clear hidden meaning behind them, enough to shoot blood right to my face. "What matters... is how it tastes~" The way predatory look on his face and the way he licked his lips sent an involentary shiver down my spine. It effected me more than it should have, that was evident by the blush on my face and the sudden urge I had to swallow the saliva in my mouth. I couldn't think of a response other than to lightly chew my lip, and play with my tongue peircing. Who was I to look a gift horse (or fox) in the mouth? The food looked wonderful, and I had to admit, since he was rather attractive, I calmed down rather easily. I guess it was too homey in here for the true danger to settle fully in my mind, especially when the attractive stranger (who had in a way had sort of kidnapped me) was treating me so well, feeding and checking up on me. "Give me a second~❤" Hurrying off, Ren swiftly returned as fast as he had left, nimbly handing me a fork me. "Thank you very much, Ren" My answer seemed to please the fox-man very much much, to which he smiled so wide, you could see his sharp canines, "How poilte! I really hit the jackpot, didn't I?" Ren hummed to himself, maybe to help with the nerves as he anxiously awaited the verdict after I took a bite. "Well....?" Ren asked, ears flattening slightly shifting about. My eyes widened, and I didn't try to hide my surprise. You could practically see the sparkles in my eyes. "It's delicious!" Ren seemed to calm down at my words, ears and fur returning to their natural state. Before I knew it, the plate was empty and Ren's eyes had never left my figure. "Thank you very much, it was wonderful" I smiled up at my captor, trying to push all fear out of my mind. The main goal in my mind was to keep calm and not to do anything irritional. Besides that, I valued manners and prided myself on my own, no matter who I was talking to. Manners were very important to me. Ren seemed to appreciate them as well, because he beamed, almost shocked by how calm and cooperative I was being taking the plate and fork from me. Watching him walk away with a rather bouncy step, I leant backwards, nestling myself into the comfey chair. I was surprised by his cooking, it was better than I had expected. Not that I had know what to expect. The heavy reminder on my leg, though, signalled me not to get too comfey. I was still chained up and had a strange collar device on my neck. I didn't know what it was for, or what it did, and I could gaurentee it wouldn't be good. Waiting patiently for my host's return, I rocked back and forth to keep my nerves in check. "If it's ok for me to ask," I started slow when Ren made his reappearance, not wanting to upset the man. Despite not being the most pressing concern at hand, I was curious. "but umm, your ears and tail..." Uncertian on how to continue, I looked down at my hands, idily playing with my fingers. "It's probably weird, but they're real. I'm a sort of beat-kin" Ren explained, trying not to seem too bothered. "We're mostly like humans, I mean, I can hide my ears and tail if I want to. But..." His expression softened, and something about his whole demeanor shifted, like he was far off, in a distant memory. It was hard to tell if it was a good one, or bad. "Someone once told me, 'You shouldn't hide who you are' " The way he said it made my heart swell. It clearly made Ren both reminiscent, and if I was right, sad. Even if he took me against my will, I was a rather empathetic person. Sometimes, I hated that. "If it's any consolation," I half whispered. "I like your ears and tail, they look nice" Mumbling lightly under my breath, the softness of my words and tone made Ren's ears involentarily twitch, "And foxes are my favorite animal" What was I doing?! I had to remind myself of the situation I was in. Ren made no remark on my comment, but his smile brightened. He was soo cheery, it was hard to believe I was kidnapped by such a sweetheart. Why do these things always happen to me? I wondered. It's not that i'd ever been kidnapped before, but I tended to have rather bad luck at times. I didn't really believe in bad luck, but the more it happened to me, the more I wondered what I did in my past lives to deserve this. Eyes shifting about, Ren sighed, wiping his hands on his shirt. He was incredibly quiet, probably due to his fox side? I mean foxes were silent, nimble, crafty creatures who had to stalk their prey, not to mention they were incredibly intelligent, and playful. "Maybe it's best we get you settled in." His gaze softened, maybe my behavior had given me the upperhand. Ren seemed rather relaxed, and to be fair, I had no plans to provoke him. "Give you time to adjust." I didn't question what he meant by that, I could only figure I was going to be his house guest for an unknown period of time. Tracing a finger along the metal collar, I cast him a look. "Oh... that. It's a hand me down.... for my new friend" He explained, gazing at the ground. "O-oh... umm, thank you?" It sounded a little like a question, rather than an awnser, but never the less, Ren turned back to me. First a small smile lay on his face, then he paused, chewing his lip. "Although..." He trailed off thoughtfully. "Although?" I tilted my head to one side quizzically. "It's been a long time, I wonder if it still works..." Pulling a small tear shaped remote out of his pocket, his thumb circled the red button in the center. Before any words could escape my mouth, a sharp shooting pain captured my whole body. It was like being punched over your entire body, shocking you to your very core. The sensation felt horrible, illicting a yelp from my parted lips, my body curling into a ball on instinct, heart pounding from a mixture of shock and pain. "Well, looks like it still works, huh" Shrinking down, the pressing issue of what was really going on hit me like a bus. I had a high chance of being shocked to death at any moment if he so desired. Trying to slow my breathing, I clutched my shirt, the fabric crinkling in my grasp. Ren didn't seem too bothered by this, if anything, he had a fair look of excitement. Bending down, he reached for my ankle. "W-what--" Click! Shifting my foot about, I was now free of the restraint. Leaning forward, I peered closer at Ren's face, trying to work out what he was thinking. What was his angle? Looking up at me, still crouching, he tapped the remote symbollically, "Don't forget the collar" Nodding, I let out a quick, "I'll behave" hoping that would satisfy him. Tail swishing, he waited for me to stand. I made no attempt to run or fight him, I just followed, i'd rather not have my brains fryed, thank you. Taking my arm gently, he led me down a short hallway. "There's no need to be worried, it's ok... it'll just take some time to get used to!" Ren tried to be reassuring as he guided me to 'my room'. I just tried to pretend I was here willingly. Swinging the door open, the room was rather nice. It reminded me a hotel room in those nice, non crappy hotels. The pillows, sheets and interior all matched in dark themes and it was appealing to the eye. Not over done, and not under either. "I know it's boring, but I didn't know what you liked," That sentence made me uneasy. How long had he been planning a kidnap, or had he just phrased it different than what he had meant to. "Once I get to know you better, we can spruce it up!" He... seems almost innocent... that's kinda' odd considering. "It's actually rather nice" I admitted, running my hand along the duvet. The material was soft, plushy. I let out a soft 'ooo' at the feeling, it gave me the urge to curl up under the covers and take a nap. Chuckling lightly, "I'm glad you like it! Just hollar if you need anything, get some rest." "I will, thank you, Ren" Slipping out the frame, he shut the door quietly. Again, to my surprise, I heard no lock. The door was unlocked, so in theory, I could roam the house freely if I wished. But... if that was the case, then Ren must have been rather confident in the shock collar. "..." Sitting down, I thought about it. What had he meant by hand me down? Why would he have worn this, if it had been his, then and again, maybe he hd used it on someone else? I had no clue. Ren, this house, everything was a puzzle, and i couldn't find any sence in it. I liked being able to read people, it was usually easy, but right now, I had now clue, I wasn't sure on anything, and that was deflating. The only shock collars I'd heard of were ones used for dogs, to keep them within a set perimeter, and the kind used in rather... intimate situations. It wasn't unheard of, using electricity to kill, or to shock into submission. All my insticts told me to bide my time, to play nice with my new 'friend'. Peering out the thick glass, I realized there was no way to even open them. We were in some rich looking suburban neighbourhood, all I felt was lost. Confused. Alone. All this thinking, the confusion and warm meal made me feel sleepy. A long yawn escaped my jaws, and a lay down turned into an unplanned nap. The bed was so soft, I sunk into it with ease. I didn't fight the enevitible slumber, I needed to have my wits about me.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/~Chapter Three~*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ Nuzzling deeper into the the sheet and pillows, I cuddled the soft, feathery plush for comfort. Did I really have to get up? I could easily stay here forever, fade off into my dreams and forget real life. But, that would require me dieing... and I didn't want to die. I was scared to die. Shifting about, stretching felt better than it should have. Everything felt like a luxury in the predicament I was in. Ren was kind yesterday, but how long would that last? I didn't know how Ren worked, how he operated. If he decided he didn't like my attitude, or he didn't want to play nice, then my life literally was in his hands. Reaching over to the beside table, I put my glasses on, running a hand through my hair, giving it a shake. Redoing the top couple of buttons that must have come undone while in bed, I wobbled a bit. It felt like walking for the first time, but after a good shake and a little pace about, I edged towards the door. Turning the handle nice and slow I peeked my head out. The house was silent. "Ren?" I called gently, yet I received no response. Hesitating, I took a few more steps out of the room and tried again. "Ren??" Is this a test? I wondered. Is Ren pretending not to be here to trick me, to see what I'll do? Debating my options, I walked over to the bathroom. Washing my face and body as carefully as I could, trying my best to avoid the collar since I had no clue if it was water proof or not, I inspected my face in the mirror. The woman looking back at me looked more hopeful than I felt. Her green eyes had no shine but looked strangely less tired than usual, yet the blue outer rings held their usual inquisitive exhaustion. Messy, wavey shoulder length brown hair framed her pale skin, and old faint cut lines ran along her left arm and hand. Thick black square glasses slid down her nose, and whispered reassurances through their stare. "Ok, Eliza lee, let's just keep it together" Turning away from the mirror, I headed back to the room, not wanting to push my already limited luck.

(To be continued?)

#boyfriend to death #ren hana

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angelst4re · 2 years ago

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ommmmmmmmg queen 🫶 hoping obviously that you’re okay

just wanted to tell you that your imagine with jamie being a dad is amazing and so cutieeeee

we definitely neeeeeeeds more more of daddy jamie imagines from you !!!! i dont know how you write so great it’s actually insane and amazing 🤩 just wanted to tell you that because you deserve an applause

just saw what jamie posts on twitter about him being sober maybe you could write something with his sobering being encouraged by his children and him talking about that on an interview

or like you could do one where he responds to 75 questions from vogue in his house while he holds one of his twins who fell asleep in his arm ( i just saw cardi b one when she’s holding kulture and it was hella cute that’s why i was inspired ) and his house with reader is just so bohemian and colourful and there are so many toys ! we love a messy organized/clean house not like those celebrity museum 😭

thank u take care of yourself and your happiness

Hi my love!! This was so sweet omg!! I absolutely loved the idea of the vogue questions because I love watching them!! I had a perfect vision of what it would be like, I hope you like it, love! <33

73 Questions with Jamie Campbell Bower

warnings: none!

note: this was so cute i loved writing this!! and i'll 100% be giving you all more dad jamie content!! <3

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Jamie Campbell Bower,”

“Hello! I’ve just got this one to sleep, I do apologise!” Says Jamie, motioning to the infant who was asleep on his shoulder.

“Ah! Is that Charlie?”

“Yes it is, come in! Sorry about the mess, me and y/n have just been so busy. We’ve just got back from a trip to France and the twins have had so much energy it’s unreal!” Jamie says, trying his best to keep his voice down.

“Well I’m here to ask you 73 questions, should we get started?”

“Yes, let’s do this!” Jamie grins.

If the camera was to show the entire living room, everyone would’ve seen piles of toys and boxes and paper and pencils everywhere! It was very clear that there were children living here, it made Jamie feel a bit embarrassed for not having tidied up before, but his plan was just to stay in one corner of this room and then move to the kitchen.

The room was open, and other than all the toys, it was beautifully decorated. There were hanging plants, a couple paintings hanging on the wall and some framed photos on top of the fireplace which appeared to be hidden. The khaki sofa had cushions scattered over it and fairy lights hung up on the wall above it, and a little mark which made it look like one of the kids had drawn on the wall.

“So your house looks amazing! How do you work around it looking stylish and still child-friendly?”

“Uhh… We don’t!” Jamie laughed, “the twins have sort of taken over, we’ve somehow replaced our cactus with a dollhouse and we’ve hid the fireplace with the sofa!”

“Well, it still looks astonishing! How’s fatherhood been treating you?”

“It’s great, honestly. I learn new things everyday, it’s made me learn more about myself as a person and I’ve become a lot more grateful towards my parents.”

“What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned from having children?”

“The biggest lesson I’ve learnt… is to expect the unexpected!”

“What’s the most unexpected thing that has happened with the twins?”

“I can’t think of one from the top of my head! There’s been so many, but y’know, they’ve all been good things! Nothing terrible!” Jamie said with a smile, sitting down on the sofa, Charlie still asleep as he laid him down.

“What’s the most underrated part of parenthood?”

“Umm, I’d say the most underrated part of parenthood… is that you always have someone to play with, or hangout with. I’m never lonely anymore!”

As another question was being asked, Belle came running in from the kitchen, she reached her arms out for Jamie to pick her up so she could sit next to him.

“And this is Belle?”

“Yes, this is! Belle, do you want to say hello?”

“Hello!” The child babbles, before becoming shy and hiding her face in Jamie’s arm.

“Darling, why don’t we go and find mummy? I’ve got something really important to do, I promise I’ll play after, okay?”

She nods her head, Jamie apologises to the camera and he carries his daughter out to the garden, where y/n was hanging laundry out.

“Okay," Jamie sighs as he sits back down, "should we start over?”

#dad jamie <3 #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell bower x reader

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reanimatedcourier · 4 years ago

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How to Write Indigenous Characters Without Looking like a Jackass:

Update as of December 26th, 2020: I have added a couple new sections about naming and legal terms, as well as a bit of reading on the Cherokee Princess phenomenon.

Boozhoo (hello) Fallout fandom! I'm a card-carrying Anishinaabe delivering this rough guide about writing Indigenous characters because wow, do I see a lot of shit.

Let's get something out of the way first: Fallout's portrayal of Indigenous people is racist. From a vague definition of "tribal" to the claims of them being "savage" and "uncivilized" mirror real-world stereotypes used to dehumanize us. Fallout New Vegas' narrated intro has Ron Perlman saying Mr. House "rehabilitated" tribals to create New Vegas' Three Families. You know. Rehabilitate. As if we are animals. Top it off with an erasure of Indigenous people in the American Southwest and no real tribe names, and you've got some pretty shitty representation. The absence of Native American as a race option in the GECK isn't too great, given that two Native characters are marked "Caucasian" despite being brown. Butch Deloria is a pretty well-known example of this effect. (Addendum: Indigenous people can have any mix of dominant and recessive traits, as well as present different phenotypes. What bothers me is it doesn't accommodate us or mixed people, which is another post entirely.)

As a precautionary warning: this post and the sources linked will discuss racism and genocide. There will also be discussion of multiple kinds of abuse.

Now, your best approach will be to pick a nation or tribe and research them. However, what follows will be general references.

Terms that may come up in your research include Aboriginal/Native Canadian, American Indian/Native American, Inuit, Métis, and Mestizo. The latter two refer to cultural groups created after the discovery of the so-called New World. (Addendum made September 5th, 2020: Mestizo has negative connotations and originally meant "half breed" so stick with referring to your mixed Latine and Indigenous characters as mixed Indigenous or simply by the name of their people [Maya, Nahua].)

As a note, not every mixed person is Métis or Mestizo. If you are, say, Serbian and Anishinaabe, you would be mixed, but not Métis (the big M is important here, as it refers to a specific culture). Even the most liberal definition caps off at French and British ancestry alongside Indigenous (some say Scottish and English). Mestizo works the same, since it refers to descendants of Spanish conquistadors/settlers and Indigenous people.

Trouble figuring out whose land is where? No problem, check out this map.

Drawing

Don't draw us with red skin. It's offensive and stereotypical.

Tutorial for Native Skintones

Tutorial for Mixed Native Skintones

Why Many Natives Have Long Hair (this would technically fit better under another category, but give your Native men long hair!)

If You're Including Traditional Wear, Research! It's Out There

Languages

Remember, there are a variety of languages spoken by Indigenous people today. No two tribes will speak the same language, though there are some that are close and may have loan words from each other (Cree and Anishinaabemowin come to mind). Make sure your Diné (you may know them as Navajo) character doesn't start dropping Cree words.

Here's a Site With a Map and Voice Clips

Here's an Extensive List of Amerindian Languages

Keep in mind there are some sounds that have no direct English equivalents. But while we're at it, remember a lot of us speak English, French, Spanish, or Portuguese. The languages of the countries that colonized us.

Words in Amerindian languages tend to be longer than English ones and are in the format of prefix + verb + suffix to get concepts across. Gaawiin miskwaasinoon is a complete sentence in Anishinaabemowin, for example (it is not red).

Names

Surprisingly, we don't have names like Passing Dawn or Two-Bears-High-Fiving in real life. A lot of us have, for lack of better phrasing, white people names. We may have family traditions of passing a name down from generation to generation (I am the fourth person in my maternal line to have my middle name), but not everyone is going to do that. If you do opt for a name from a specific tribe, make sure you haven't chosen a last name from another tribe.

Baby name sites aren't reliable, because most of the names on there will be made up by people who aren't Indigenous. That site does list some notable exceptions and debunks misconceptions.

Here's a list of last names from the American census.

Indian Names

You may also hear "spirit names" because that's what they are for. You know the sort of mystical nature-related name getting slapped on an Indigenous character? Let's dive into that for a moment.

The concept of a spirit name seems to have gotten mistranslated at some point in time. It is the name Creator calls you throughout all your time both here and in the spirit world. These names are given (note the word usage) to you in a ceremony performed by an elder. This is not done lightly.

A lot of imitations of this end up sounding strange because they don't follow traditional guidelines. (I realize this has spread out of the original circle, but Fallout fans may recall other characters in Honest Hearts and mods that do this. They have really weird and racist results.)

If you're not Indigenous: don't try this. You will be wrong.

Legal Terms

Now, sometimes the legal term (or terms) for a tribe may not be what they refer to themselves as. A really great example of this would be the Oceti Sakowin and "Sioux". How did that happen, you might be wondering. Smoky Mountain News has an article about this word and others, including the history of these terms.

For the most accurate information, you are best off having your character refer to themselves by the name their nation uses outside of legislation. A band name would be pretty good for this (Oglala Lakota, for example). I personally refer to myself by my band.

Cowboys

And something the Fallout New Vegas fans might be interested in, cowboys! Here's a link to a post with several books about Black and Indigenous cowboys in the Wild West.

Representation: Stereotypes and Critical Thought

Now, you'll need to think critically about why you want to write your Indigenous character a certain way. Here is a comprehensive post about stereotypes versus nuance.

Familiarize yourself with tropes. The Magical Indian is a pretty prominent one, with lots of shaman-type characters in movies and television shows. This post touches on its sister tropes (The Magical Asian and The Magical Negro), but is primarily about the latter.

Say you want to write an Indigenous woman. Awesome! Characters I love to see. Just make sure you're aware of the stereotypes surrounding her and other Women of Color.

Word to the wise: do not make your Indigenous character an alcoholic. "What, so they can't even drink?" You might be asking. That is not what I'm saying. There is a pervasive stereotype about Drunk Indians, painting a reaction to trauma as an inherent genetic failing, as stated in this piece about Indigenous social worker Jessica Elm's research. The same goes for drugs. Ellen Deloria is an example of this stereotype.

Familiarize yourself with and avoid the Noble Savage trope. This was used to dehumanize us and paint us as "childlike" for the sake of a plot device. It unfortunately persists today.

Casinos are one of the few ways for tribes to make money so they can build homes and maintain roads. However, some are planning on diversifying into other business ventures.

There's a stereotype where we all live off government handouts. Buddy, some of these long-term boil water advisories have been in place for over twenty years. The funding allocated to us as a percentage is 0.39%: less than half a percent to fight the coronavirus. They don't give us money.

"But what about people claiming to be descended from a Cherokee princess?" Cherokee don't and never had anything resembling princesses. White southerners made that up prior to the Civil War. As the article mentions, they fancied themselves "defending their lands as the Indians did".

Also, don't make your Indigenous character a cannibal. Cannibalism is a serious taboo in a lot of our cultures, particularly northern ones.

Our lands are not cursed. We don't have a litany of curses to cast on white people in found footage films. Seriously. We have better things to be doing. Why on earth would our ancestors be haunting you when they could be with their families? Very egotistical assumption.

Indigenous Ties and Blood Quantum

Blood quantum is a colonial system that was initially designed to "breed out the Indian" in people. To dilute our bloodlines until we assimilated properly into white society. NPR has an article on it here.

However, this isn't how a vast majority of us define our identities. What makes us Indigenous is our connections (or reconnection) to our families, tribes, bands, clans, and communities.

Blood quantum has also historically been used to exclude Black Natives from tribal enrollment, given that it was first based on appearance. So, if you looked Black and not the image of "Indian" the white census taker had in his brain, you were excluded and so were your descendants.

Here are two tumblrs that talk about Black Indigenous issues and their perspectives. They also talk about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

However, if you aren't Indigenous, don't bring up blood quantum. Don't. This is an issue you should not be speaking about.

Cherokee Princess Myth

"Princess" was not a real position in any tribe. The European idea of monarchy did not suddenly manifest somewhere else. The closest probable approximation may have been the daughter of a chief or other politically prominent person. But princess? No.

Here is an article talking about possible origins of this myth. Several things are of note here: women from other tribes may have bee shoved under this label and the idea of a "Cherokee Princess" had been brought up to explain the sudden appearance of a brown-skinned (read: half Black) family member.

For a somewhat more in depth discussion of why, specifically, this myth gets touted around so often, Timeline has this piece.

Religion

Our religions are closed. We are not going to tell you how we worship. Mostly because every little bit we choose to share gets appropriated. Smudging is the most recent example. If you aren't Indigenous, that's smoke cleansing. Smudging is done in a specific way with ceremonies and prayers.

Now, a lot of us were forcibly converted. Every residential school was run by Christians. So plenty of us are Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. Catholicism in Latin America also has influence from the Indigenous religions in that region.

Having your Indigenous character pray or carry rosaries wouldn't be a bad thing, if that religion was important to them. Even if they are atheist, if they lived outside of a reserve or other Indigenous communities, they might have Christian influences due to its domination of the Western world.

Settler Colonialism and the White Savior Trope

Now we've come to our most painful section yet. Fallout unintentionally has an excellent agent of settler-colonialism, in particular the Western Christian European variety, in Caesar's Legion and Joshua Graham.

(Addendum: Honest Hearts is extremely offensive in its portrayal of Indigenous people, and egregiously shows a white man needing to "civilize" tribals and having to teach them basic skills. These skills include cooking, finding safe water, and defending themselves from other tribes.)

Before we dive in, here is a post explaining the concept of cultural Christianity, if you are unfamiliar with it.

We also need to familiarize ourselves with The White Man's Burden. While the poem was written regarding the American-Philippine war, it still captures the attitudes toward Indigenous folks all over the world at the time.

As this article in Teen Vogue points out, white people like to believe they need to save People of Color. You don't need to. People of Color can save themselves.

Now, cultural Christianity isn't alone on this side of the pond. Writer Teju Cole authored a piece on the White Savior Industrial Complex to describe mission trips undertaken by white missionaries to Africa to feed their egos.

Colonialism has always been about the acquisition of wealth. To share a quote from this paper about the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples: "Negatively, [settler colonialism] strives for the dissolution of native societies. Positively, it erects a new colonial society on the expropriated land base—as I put it, settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event. In its positive aspect, elimination is an organizing principal of settler-colonial society rather than a one-off (and superseded) occurrence. The positive outcomes of the logic of elimination can include officially encouraged miscegenation, the breaking-down of native title into alienable individual freeholds, native citizenship, child abduction, religious conversion, resocialization in total institutions such as missions or boarding schools, and a whole range of cognate biocultural assimilations. All these strategies, including frontier homicide, are characteristic of settler colonialism. Some of them are more controversial in genocide studies than others." (Positive, here, is referring to "benefits" for the colonizers. Indigenous people don't consider colonization beneficial.)

An example of a non-benefit, the Church Rock disaster had Diné children playing in radioactive water so the company involved could avoid bad publicity.

Moving on, don't sterilize your Indigenous people. Sterilization, particularly when it is done without consent, has long been used as a tool by the white system to prevent "undesirables" (read, People of Color and disabled people) from having children. Somehow, as of 2018, it wasn't officially considered a crime.

The goal of colonization was to eliminate us entirely. Millions died because of exposure to European diseases. Settlers used to and still do separate our children from us for reasons so small as having a dirty dish in the sink. You read that right, a single dirty dish in your kitchen sink was enough to get your children taken and adopted out to white families. This information was told to me by an Indigenous social work student whose name I will keep anonymous.

It wasn't until recently they made amendments to the Indian Act that wouldn't automatically render Indigenous women non-status if they married someone not Indigenous. It also took much too long for Indigenous families to take priority in child placement over white ones. Canada used to adopt Indigenous out to white American families. The source for that statement is further down, but adoption has been used as a tool to destroy cultures.

I am also begging you to cast aside whatever colonialist systems have told you about us. We are alive. People with a past, not people of the past, which was wonderfully said here by Frank Waln.

Topics to Avoid if You Aren't Indigenous

Child Separation. Just don't. We deserve to remain with our families and our communities. Let us stay together and be happy that way.

Assimilation schools. Do not bring up a tool for cultural genocide that has left lasting trauma in our communities.

W/ndigos. I don't care that they're in Fallout 76. They shouldn't be. Besides, you never get them right anyway.

Sk/nwalkers. Absolutely do not. Diné stories are not your playthings either.

I've already talked about drugs and alcohol. Do your research with compassion and empathy in mind. Indigenous people have a lot of pain and generational trauma. You will need to be extremely careful having your Indigenous characters use drugs and alcohol. If your character can be reduced to their (possible) substance abuse issues, you need to step back and rework it. As mentioned in Jessica Elm's research, remember that it isn't inherent to us.

For our final note: remember that we're complex, autonomous human beings. Don't use our deaths to further the stories of your white characters. Don't reduce us to some childlike thing that needs to be raised and civilized by white characters. We interact with society a little differently than you do, but we interact nonetheless.

Meegwetch (thank you) for reading! Remember to do your research and portray us well, but also back off when you are told by an Indigenous person.

This may be updated in the future, it depends on what information I come across or, if other Indigenous people are so inclined, what is added to this post.

#fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #fallout new vegas #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout: new vegas #ozhibii'ige

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, ��I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table.

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #series #portrait of a dangerous man #dc #dcu #au #mob au #mob!au #superman

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y0ung-4ever · 4 years ago

Text

I Promise.

Pairing: Johnny Depp x female reader

Description: Coming home from work, Johnny isn’t feeling the greatest. But you are there to cheer him up.

Warnings: fluff, age gap, Johnny being his absolute adorable self :D

Rating: E

Notes: I think this is the best imagine I have ever written- This is also in Johnny’s pov :)

I walk through the door, not in a very good mood due to working all day. Don’t get me wrong I love my job as an actor, but the parts I play take a lot of work to make it the best it can be. So when I throw my bag in utter tiredness and anger, I can only hear the running of what I presume is my amazing girlfriend, Y/n. She is about 10 years younger than me and still a kid at heart. Just like me, and ever since I met her, I knew she was perfect for me. She loves kids, she loves to joke around, she can cook so well, and she loves to wake up extra early in the mornings just for me. And another thing she does, is make me feel safe and at peace with the negative feelings I feel when I get back from a tough day at work.

I sloppily sat on the couch and leaned my head back with a sigh. I had my eyes closed as I let my feet rest.

Then out of nowhere a big blanket covered my body and underneath it with me was Y/n.

This is what she did, and I love it.

I looked at her with gentle and sad eyes.

“It’s okay, Johnny. All that hard work and worries that you face all day are gone! We are in blanket town now. In blanket town-“

She whispered and held my hand.

“There is only peace and love.”

I cut her off and finished her sentence.

“You look so tired today..”

I sighed once more and caressed her cheek with my hand. I love her. So much.

“My love, what did you do today?”

I was curious as to what she kept herself busy doing while I was out. And with that question she smiled.

“Well, after you left this morning I took a shower and danced around to our favorite music in my towel..then I decided to make some cookies, and I also played piano for a while. Then I decided to reorganize the book shelves and I cleaned the entire house. And then I had a period of time where I found one of your band t-shirts and just laid in bed with it on. I miss you a lot while you are gone most days..but then after that I decided to paint and then I decided to try and make a new dinner recipe! And then I laid in bed with your t-shirt again..I really do miss you…”

I brushed the hair out of her face and let my hands fall to her neck and rested my hands there. I leaned my forehead against hers and I almost wanted to cry at her explanation.

“Love, you know I hate leaving all the time..I wish I could stay with you forever. All the time. I love you..so much.”

She smiled and grabbed my wrists with her tiny hands and lifted my hands to her cheeks as she leaned into my touch.

“It’s okay, I love seeing you happy when you have the moments of realization that you are living your dream. And if you working everyday and leaving home for a while means that I can keep seeing you happy, then every moment of everyday without you is worth it.”

She was rubbing my forearms and brought my hands to her mouth and kissed each of my knuckles and the palms of my hands. I grabbed her face gently and brought her to kiss me.

“Y/n, I’m so glad I met you. You make me happy and you make me love life even more.”

She chuckled and kissed me again.

“Wait hold on, did you say that you danced around to our favorite music in just your towel? Why don’t you do that when I’m here! Wow, you let me miss out on that?”

She laughed and I smiled at her beautiful eyes squinting as she giggled. She punched my shoulder and I rested my hands on her waist.

“Listen, me dancing around in my towel without you is your punishment for eating all my cookies the other day!”

I swallowed and a guilty look took over my face.

Today was my day off so I decided to wake up late and as I went into the kitchen I didn’t see Y/n anywhere. But what I did see was a plate of delicious looking sugar cookies just laying there, tempting me..

A few moments later..

“JOHN CHRISTOPHER DEPP- HOW DARE YOU!”

I looked over at the door way, a half eaten cookie in my hand the other half of that cookie stuffed in my mouth.

We just looked at each other for a few seconds, her angry and fuming, me grabbing all the cookies I can hold and booking it out the back door. I could hear her footsteps ganging up on me so I did what any other sane person would do..

“Don’t you do it-“

I stood still, as she did. And I looked straight at her as I stuck all of those cookies down my pants and as the last cookie disappeared from her eyes, I took off running up the stairs and went straight to the bathroom. I locked the door and waited for the banging of angry Y/n’s fists against the wood.

“JOHNNY WHAT THE FLIP!”

I couldn’t think of what to say so I did the next best thing..

“Oh I’m sorry, Johnny is not here right now, please press 1 for more options..”

“I- beep”

I almost sighed in relief as she played along.

“Hello, would you like to schedule an appointment?”

“Yes, please.”

I could hear the stern in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am what rage doctor will you want to see?”

She sighed hard.

“Dr. Get out of the bathroom and fight me like a real man!”

She yelled on the other side of the door.

“Um...I’m sorry ma’am, but he retired last week..”

She banged on the door and I shivered at the cast of her shadow under the door.

“Fine. Dr. I’m going to kill you if you don’t come out.”

I mentally cursed myself for being so curious and such a pig..

“Achem, yes ma’am um, I’m sorry to inform you-“

“DON'T YOU DARE SAY HE'S RETIRED TOO-“

I panicked-

“Uh, I was going to say that he broke his back yesterday and is not going to come to work for a few months..”

“Johnny..please come out.”

“B-but you are going to murder me..”

“No I won’t. Not if you come out now..”

“Y/n, what did you expect! You left them unsupervised and you even had the AUDACITY to decorate them with shiny sprinkles!”

She yelled out of annoyance-

“JOHNNY IT DOESN'T MATTER!”

“Oh, we’re sorry, Johnny cannot come to the phone right now..”

“UGHHHH”

“Haha, Yeahh…”

I rubbed the back of my neck and looked up.

Y/n was looking at me with a smirk on her face and her arms were crossed.

“I guess that’s fair.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and kissed her nose.

“You seem happier than before, haha”

She caressed my face with her hands as she smiled.

“You’re the reason. I love you, Y/n.”

I rested my hand on hers. She placed her forehead on mine and whispered..

“I love you too, Johnny. Forever and always. I promise.”

#johnny depp #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp imagine #depphead

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stratiotis-nth · 3 years ago

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Castiel has been able to see Glimpses of people’s future when he meets them for the first time—specifically when he first makes eye contact. It’s the big family secret and Castiel hates that he’s the one stuck with it. It’s infuriating—Gabriel asks if Castiel could make eye contact with some hot guy or girl to see if he’ll get lucky, and Castiel ignores him every time.

He doesn’t see the person’s entire life when he looks like them. It’s more like…a tsunami of information. Sometimes it’s images or feelings or sounds. Usually, Castiel can’t make heads or tails of what he experienced, so he stopped trying to interpret them a long time ago.

At this point, the flood of information is an annoyance, and he’s done his best to just avoid eye contact altogether.

Maybe that’s why Castiel is so quiet and keeps to himself. He doesn’t like meeting new people if only to avoid the data dump of another person’s future. He’s thankful he doesn’t get Glimpses when he looks at anyone he’s already Glimpsed, because he’s never be able to look Gabriel in the face. And anyone who Castiel had accidentally Glimpsed before have long since disappeared from his life, and Castiel is such a recluse that he hasn’t had a new friend in years.

Until Gabriel was an annoying asshole.

His older brother practically wrestled Castiel out of the house they shared to go clubbing. It had been a close fight and Castiel had gotten damn well near to biting Gabriel’s arm—but he eventually lost because Gabriel threatened to trample Castiel’s carefully cultivated garden in the backyard.

For the sake of his plants, Castiel reluctantly ducked into Gabriel’s obnoxiously bright red Camero.

“This is a stupid idea.” He grumbled, crossing his arms and keeping his hands tucked firmly against himself. “I’m just going to be standing there staring at the floor like an idiot.”

“No, you’re gonna keep that chin up and meet some people, Cassie.” Gabriel said briskly as they drove to Downtown. “Glimpsing a few people isn’t gonna change your life. You need friends, my bumbling, weirdo brother.”

“I can live my life just fine without friends, Gabriel.” Castiel snapped. “I have you, my cat, and my garden. I work from home and can support myself if needs be. What else do I need?”

Gabriel sighed.

“You’ll always have me, Cassie.” He said. “But have you ever thought about what you want?”

No. Of course he hadn’t. Castiel hadn’t had the luxury of knowing what he wanted since he first discovered the Glimpses.

“Your Glimpses shouldn’t be what stops you from having a life, little bro.” Gabriel continued firmly. They were in Downtown now, string lights lighting the two way street and neon signs making the air gleam in multicolor. Castiel’s chest clenched with anxiety, carefully avoiding the stream of bodies moving up and down the sidewalks in case he made eye contact with as passers by.

Gabriel pulled into the VIP spot of his nightclub, Sugar+Spice and grinned at Castiel.

“C’mon, brosky, time to swim amongst the fishes.” To complete Gabriel’s inspiring speech, he slapped two condoms into Castiel’s hand and ducked out of the car before he could throw them back.

Grumbling under his breath about invasive brothers, Castiel begrudgingly followed Gabriel through the back entrance of the club.

It was loud, hot, and chaotic. Despite not having made eye contact with anyone yet, Castiel’s senses were immediately overloaded with noise and light. He could barely hear Gabriel over the din, risking a glance up in an effort to read his lips.

This way. He seemed to be shouting. Gabriel grabbed his hand and tugged him along anyway. Castiel allowed himself to be dragged, bumping through a crowd of people with his eyes fixed on their passing feet.

Gabriel took him up to a slightly quieter, less crowded second floor and sat him down at the bar.

“Alfie!” Gabriel called to the bartender, rapping his knuckles on the glass bar top. “Dirty Shirley for my fruity brother!”

“Gabriel!” Castiel hissed. He didn’t necessarily care if people knew he was gay, but he didn’t want Gabriel going on trying to get him laid.

“Coming up, boss.” Alfie called, already moving nonstop and smoothly as he tended to the other patrons lining his bar top.

“See ya, Cassie.” Gabriel clapped his shoulder. Castiel’s heart seized with terror.

“Gabriel, don’t you dare—“

“Sorry little bro, I’ve got club owner responsibilities to attend to.”

And then, Castiel was alone. Alfie’s slim hand set a red-pink colored drink in front of him and moved on before Castiel could think he would wait a second for a thanks. He was probably too busy to care for social expectations like please and thank you.

Castiel didn’t know how long he had sat there, hunched over his drink and staring at the bar top resolutely. Gabriel could drag his ass into public, but he couldn’t make him talk to people.

People seemed to catch the hint to leave him alone, or maybe Alfie had warned them against it before Castiel could sense their presence. Some tried, though, but Castiel just shook his head. That was usually enough to leave him be.

It was well after 1 AM when he’d finally had enough sitting around and staring at his drink to ward off horny one nighters. He stood, determined to find Gabriel and force him to take him home. He was tired, anxious, and terrified of this place and of people. He didn’t like Glimpsing—it was like intruding into their privacy and instead of doing it intentionally like how a burglar would invade a home, it was hurled at him when he didn’t want it. The last time Castiel had Glimpsed, the images and noises had been too much. It had overloaded his mind and nearly made him pass out from the onslaught.

The last time he had Glimpsed was the first time he’d met a future serial killer. One could imagine why Castiel didn’t like Glimpsing anymore.

He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to find Gabriel’s recognizable white dress shoes amongst the writhing sea of legs and lower bodies.

Castiel finally reached the stairs, the door swinging shut and blessedly blocking out the din of the dance floor. The peaceful silent lasted for only a moment, though.

“Whoa, Jesus!”

Castiel slammed into a very solid form and went tumbling backwards, his back hitting the bottom staircase with a painful thud before he toppled back onto the concrete floor.

“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry! Jesus fuck, here, lemme help—“

The person he collided into was scrabbling down the last few stairs, kneeling over him and grabbing his arms.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Castiel’s entire body was ringing with the aftershock of his fall. His back throbbed painfully, already promising a nice purpling welt.

Maybe it was the pain, or maybe the ringing in his head muted out higher reason, or maybe just fate, but Castiel drifted his gaze to stare at the person who had run into him.

The moment he met the pair of green eyes the color of matcha and wild grass, he was assaulted with an onslaught of Glimpses.

Warm, comforting yellow and orange, the color that light up a home on a cozy, winter night.

The sizzle, pop and bang of fireworks in a dewy field, ringing with a pair of laughter. Bursting, bright colors lighting up a starry sky.

Metallic, greasy smell of an auto shop, the sharp chemical scent of acrylic paint, the words Winchester Auto in neon lights on the top of a busy garage and art studio.

But the main image, the one that always came through crystal clear when he had a Glimpse—

was Castiel himself.

He couldn’t force the image away, or what followed after.

It was Castiel, looming over the man’s point of view with his arms braced on either of his vision. His own face was slack with pleasure as his entire body moved up and down in a very obvious thrusting motion. His eyes were bright and wide and so full of something warm and gentle and careful that Castiel didn’t believe he could ever really do that.

He closed his eyes, willing the main image and surrounding flashes of senses to fade.

“Dude, please tell me you’re okay.” The man fretted, his hands now cupping Castiel’s face and shaking slightly. The way the man was leaning over him looked so much like how Castiel was leaning in the Glimpse that it brought him back to himself.

He sat bolt upright, smacking foreheads with the man and immediately making himself dizzy again.

“Ow.” They both mumbled. The guy scrambled back to give Castiel some space.

“You okay, man?” The guy asked again, staring at him with wide eyes. Castiel’s first reaction was to advert his eyes, but this time for an entirely different reason than the Glimpse. His cheeks burned with the embarrassment of what he had just witnessed.

“Yes.” He managed, but it sounded strained. The man, apparently took that strain as pain instead of mortification.

“Oh shit, you’re probably all banged up, shit. Did the stair hit your back? Did it break the skin?” Suddenly, warm hands were gingerly touching his lower back, feeling for the welt already swelling. Electrical shocks rippled under his skin despite the layers of clothes between him and the hand, but Castiel hissed sharply when the pressure of his fingers hit the welt.

“Sorry, hang on. Don’t move too much, not until I can be sure you didn’t break anything.” The guy was completely unfazed by touching Castiel. It was a gentle touch, but definitely clinical. Was this guy a nurse? Doctor?

“I used to be a paramedic.” The guy answered Castiel’s unspoken speculation. He gently pressed around the welt. “Anything hurt?”

“No.” Castiel managed faintly, his brain already providing unhelpful scenarios where the man’s hand drifted lower and suddenly his last Glimpse was coming true right then and there—

“Okay, I don’t think anything’s broken.” The guy said, sounding relieved. “Can you stand?”

“Yes. It’s just a bruise.” Castiel said, his defenses rising with the determination to never allow that last Glimpse to come true. There were too many risks, too many dangers associated with having friends, let alone pursue a romantic relationship. For this man’s sake and for Castiel’s sanity, he would do everything in his power to stop that Glimpse from happening.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He said quickly, stepping back to allow an acceptable amount of space between him and the man.

“Okay, uh, good.” The guy said, ducking his head sheepishly.

Please don’t. Castiel begged helplessly, staring as the man glanced up at him through his lashes. He was undeniably gorgeous. Light brown hair styled lightly and freckled, tanned skin. Those enrapturing green eyes that made Castiel want to smother himself in that very shade, framed by long lashes. Plush pink lips and a little scruff that Castiel wanted to feel on his skin. Broad shoulders filled a worn leather jacket over a flannel and Henley. Oil-stained jeans and scuffed boots. Rugged and beautiful.

What the hell did future Castiel do to secure a night with this man? How did an awkward, nobody with a fear of people manage to have sex with this perfect, gorgeous man who could get anyone he wanted?

“Sorry about that, man. I swear I don’t go running into hot guys as a pick up line.”

Castiel’s jaw dropped, and the man went very red when he realized what he’d said.

“Ah, fuck. I-I didn’t mean, that’s n-not—shit, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—“

“It’s alright.” Castiel cut him off hastily. “I’ve actually got to go. I’m supposed to meet my brother and he’s probably worried that I haven’t shown up.”

The man looked embarrassed but startled by Castiel’s hasty retreat. But he moved to let him up the stairs.

He was already a few steps up when the man spoke again.

“Sorry again, man.”

It was a mistake to turn back around, but Castiel did, perhaps selfish enough to indulge in the man’s beauty one more time.

Then something happened that never happened before. Castiel had another Glimpse when he met his eyes.

It was gentler than the first, like an aftershock after an A-bomb.

Deep, sweet spices mixed with buttery pie dough and tangy apple.

A warm, soft red that enveloping his entire body like an embrace to protect and cherish.

The man’s deep, rough voice murmuring “Cas” with such profound affection and care.

Then, Castiel’s voice answering in the same low, gentle caress of soft happiness—“Dean”.

This could not be happening.

#SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER THIS WAS GETTING TOO LONG AGAIN #IM REALLY BAD ABOUT KEEPING THESE SHORT #BUT I KINDA WANNA WRITE THIS FULLY??#MAYBE? idk #supernatural #cas #castiel #destiel #spn #casdean #dean is bi #dean winchester #deancas #destiel fandom #destiel fanfic

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conduitandconjurer · 2 years ago

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sorry this got long, so keep scrolling if you aren’t in a headspace for a mutual to vent ooc.

i’m upset for stupid reasons that, i think, go back to bigger or deeper things IRL.

i’m upset that i’ve been too busy as my mother’s sole caretaker OR playing frantic catch-up at work (i’m a professor and it involves a LOT of grading, lecturing, reading, and writing, and frankly extracurricular things like counseling and reporting concerns about students’ emotional or physical safety) to do things like shower, sleep 7-8 hours a night, eat as healthily as i should, exercise, and most of all, do ANYTHING creative to my own satisfaction. it has been more than a WEEK since i have showered! it has been since JUNE since i have even started a complete, finished, full-color artwork.

yeah, i know the positivity drill: “you create things for your own joy, not to be good at them.” but i only enjoy making things (image or word) that i can do with a certain degree of thoroughness and depth. i don’t like to half-ass anything. there’s also executive dysfunction borne of crippling anxiety and depression, which are more situational (C-PTSD) than the result of brain chemistry.

so i’m mad. i’m sad. i’m lonely. i’m tired. i want to just have some semblance of a normal adult life. i have not had a normal life since i was diagnosed with an incurable, progressively worsening illness AT AGE SIX. and i have let it get MUCH worse (my kidneys, stomach, eyes, lymph nodes, and blood vessels are all so badly damaged that there is no fixing them, there is just praying they don’t get worse, and now all sensation in my hands is going too: i can barely type this) because i’ve had to take over for my mother (no, insurance won’t help us, believe me, i’ve looked into it: she’s on dialysis but somehow “not sick enough”) and i have NO TIME to see my OWN doctors and do the necessary lifestyle changes to make MYSELF any better. i want to take a shower, and have energy to do anything after that. i want to go on a date. hell, i have a new boyfriend, but i find dating him to be a chore that i dread because i am so fucking drained by the end of the week that I’d rather just go to bed.

i want to be selfish. i just want to be SELFISH for ONE DAY.

but i know that’s not realistic. i mean i live in a world where everyone, EVERYONE, that i know, has just gone back to attending major events maskless, even though COVID is still surging. people like me are apparently expendable; we’re “sick anyway,” so if we die, it’s “expected.” we get left behind and NO ONE NOTICES.

i won’t be able to do Sheehantober/Sheetober, whatever it’s called, that super cool thing with all the creative prompts.

i won’t be able to draw/paint the entire notebook of ideas i’ve had waiting for “free time” since last february.

i won’t have time to answer my drafts here, that have been sitting since may.

i won’t be able to even catch up on Discord threads, and I CAN’T EVEN FIND THE TIME TO CELEBRATE KLAUS’S BIRTHDAY WITH GOOFY LIGHT HEARTED SIMPLE THINGS. I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT IT ENTIRELY.

but honestly THAT DOESN’T MATTER EITHER, because i haven’t had the time to form many meaningful connections with people (aside two lovely souls who know who they are) in this fandom, and nobody inboxes me or responds to my open starters anyway. plus if they did, i’d probably be too sick or tired to do a thing about it.

mom just spilled perishable stuff all over the kitchen floor trying to get her own food, so now i have to go mop that up even though my sciatica is so bad that i’m sweating. this weekend, i have to somehow find time to get a house cleaner, inventory and remove extra dialysis supplies (32 HEAVY boxes to cover), find and buy a table with very specific parameters to hold a dialysis cycler, etc etc etc). a day in the life.

and you think, “can’t you ask somebody to help?” friend, if you say that, you have never experienced TRUE chronic illness, and how very quickly people you are close to become “too busy” to help when they have to interact with (noncommunicable!) illness, and acknowledge their OWN mortality.

#ooc #chronic illness cw #medical cw #sickness cw #depression cw #mental health cw #please do not reblog

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genshin-impact-writings · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! I’m one of the many silent readers that enjoys your writing but rarely interacts with anything (I’m shy!) Speaking up this time to let you know that your efforts are 💯% appreciated!!!

Saw your reqs are open for Thoma and Baal but don’t have to do it if you don’t want to: welcome tour with Thoma but it’s an actual tour instead of some hidden agenda to try to recruit you into the resistance 🙃

Heya! Thank you so much for your kind words, I really appreciate your support! <3 And thank you for your request. I got a bit carried away while writing this and it doesn't fit your original idea perfectly but I hope you'll like it nevertheless. Have a great day/night and take care, dear! :)

Welcome to Inazuma – Thoma x gn!reader

Your palms felt a bit sweaty when you entered Inazuma City, immediately surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the area that was much more crowded and noisier than Ritou where you had arrived a couple of days ago. There were soldiers everywhere, and although you knew that you had a valid travel permit, the sight still made you nervous.

You didn’t know much about the things that had happened in Inazuma recently but judging from everything the Adventurer’s Guild had told you before they sent you here, the situation was still quite tense. Surely, it would be best to avoid any unnecessary attention until you had spoken to your new superiors, and so you took a deep breath and bowed your head as you continued to make your way through the city.

Finding the local branch of the Guild luckily wasn’t too difficult, and by the time you had arrived there, your nervousness had already started to subside. “Hello Katheryne,” you greeted the familiar receptionist before handing over your papers. “I’m (Y/N), from Mondstadt.”

“Welcome to Inazuma,” she replied with the same polite smile you had already seen so many times. “The local adventurers have anticipated your arrival but unfortunately, they are quite busy with their commissions today, so they can’t welcome you right now. But perhaps you would like to take a walk through the city in the meantime? There’s a lot to see and it’s surely more interesting than sitting around and waiting for the others to return.”

And that is how it came that you were wandering around the city for the second time on that day, trying to process all the new impressions that besieged you. There were various restaurants and food stalls, smaller and larger shops that sold all kinds of things, and you couldn’t deny that the whole situation was quite overwhelming, especially compared to your home town Mondstadt where everything was a bit more leisurely and relaxed. But at the same time, it made you incredibly happy to be able to explore a place like this.

“Excuse me but – are you (Y/N)? The adventurer from Mondstadt?” a voice behind you asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you turned around, you saw a tall, blonde man standing behind you, dressed in dark red and black clothes and, as you noticed almost immediately, with a Pyro vision attached to his belt. But what really caught your attention were his friendly, bright green eyes.

“Um,” you hesitated with your answer. “Yes.”

“Oh, great!” His lips curled into a delighted smile, and he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it. “I’m Thoma! Miss Kamisato told me you’d arrive today and asked me to show you around.”

“Miss Kamisato?” you repeated. Of course, you had heard of the Kamisato Clan and their role in the recent events but you weren’t too sure why they were so well informed about your arrival in Inazuma.

Still smiling, Thoma nodded. “Most of your future commissions actually come from the Kamisato Clan. As you may or may not have guessed already, things are a bit complicated in Inazuma right now and we all could need another helping hand to deal with some of these inconveniences. That’s why the local Adventurer’s Guild asked Mondstadt and Liyue for help, you see.”

You hummed in response. His explanations made sense, and he seemed to be a sociable and friendly companion, so there was really no reason to dismiss his offer to show you around the city. In the end, you thought to yourself, it could only be of advantage to explore the area together with a local.

“Okay,” you finally replied and hesitatingly returned his smile. “Where should we go first?”

“And here we have the Yae Publishing House,” your companion explained a couple of hours later, gesturing towards the building complex in front of you. It was an unobtrusive, yet fairy large building, compared to the others, but the stall right in front of it was all the more interesting. The shelves bent under dozens of books in various shapes and sizes, organized in a classification system you couldn’t figure out at first glance.

“If you ever need something to read, this is the place to go,” the man by your side continued, and you turned your head to look at him. “I don’t think I’ll have a lot of time to read in between my commissions.”

Thoma laughed, a contagious, joyful laugh that you found more attractive than you wanted to admit. “I’ll have to make sure that you don’t overwork yourself, then.”

“I can take care of myself just fine, thank you,” you replied and grimaced at him when he only laughed more at your words. “No doubt, dear adventurer. But everyone needs someone to look after them sometimes, don’t you agree?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Is that so? We’ve spent almost the entire day with each other.”

You rolled your eyes but it was nearly impossible to fight back the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth now. “You must be insane if you think that a few hours are enough to get to know me properly.”

He winked at you. “Thankfully, the day isn’t over yet. We still have plenty of time to chat. So, how about we take a break and grab something to eat before we continue our little tour? I know some great restaurants that are just around the corner. It’s my treat, of course.”

“That sounds like a really good idea,” you said, letting out a quiet shriek when he linked arms with you and dragged you along before you could even finish your sentence. “A bit impatient, aren’t we?”

An apologetic smile and an almost innocent look were his only answer at first. Then, with an overdramatic sigh, he added, “What can I say? Food is my weak point.”

“Then we should definitely hurry – who’s going to show me where I can watch the sunset if you’re going to pass out from malnutrition?”

He grinned. “Well, luckily I know the perfect spot to do that. Once we’ve finished our meal, I’ll take you there, dear adventurer.”

“Now, would you look at that,” Thoma said quietly, pointing towards the horizon where the sky was painted in the most gorgeous shades of orange, red and purple as the day slowly came to an end. The rippling surface of the ocean reflected the light of the setting sun in a way you had never seen before, and for a few seconds, you could only stare at the spectacle of nature that happened right in front of you.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered then, your eyes still glued to the sky. Next to you, Thoma couldn’t help but smile; a soft, genuine smile that would have made your face heat up if you had seen it.

“Very beautiful, indeed,” he agreed, his voice barely audible, but he wasn’t watching the sunset anymore. Instead, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye. In the warm light of the sun, your skin had an ethereal glow, and your hair that framed your face almost looked like a halo from his perspective. “A sight to behold, one might say.”

You blinked at him, unable to hide your embarrassment when you finally realized that he wasn’t talking about the sunset anymore. He chuckled quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fluster you. It’s just – you’re stunning, you know?”

“You’re quite handsome yourself, Thoma,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading on your face as his eyes widened at the unexpected compliment before he quickly turned his head away to hide the soft, rosy colored blush that creeped up his neck. “Um, thanks, I guess.”

“I mean it.”

Silence fell between the two of you then as you continued to watch the sky getting darker and darker until the sun had almost disappeared over the horizon. You could already see the stars, countless bright dots scattered over the dark blue sky. The quiet rushing of the ocean perfected the peaceful scenery, and for a few moments, you found yourself wondering if you could perhaps stay in Inazuma for a bit longer than originally planned. Surely, the Adventurer’s Guild wouldn’t mind. You could spend more time with exploring the Nation of Eternity – and you could spend more time with Thoma, too. Although you had only known him for barely a day, you couldn’t deny that he had made an impression on you, and you really wanted to get to know him better.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You impressed me, too.”

It was only then when you realize that you had wondered out loud about your stay in Inazuma and, more importantly, about him. Oh no. You felt your cheeks heating up in embarrassment and opened your mouth to explain yourself but when you noticed the soft expression in his eyes, you decided to remain silent instead before you’d say even more awkward things.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke as you kept staring at each other, trying to figure out your next move.

“Would it be too bold of me to kiss you right now?” Thoma finally broke the silence, his voice barely louder as a whisper and his breath softly brushing against your face as he spoke. When you shook your head, leaning in ever so slightly to signalize that you wouldn’t mind it at all, he let his hand trail to the back of your neck to guide you forward before finally closing the gap between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you felt him melt under your touch.

You were both out of breath when he pulled away. A soft smile played around his mouth as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. Leaning in again, he rested his forehead against yours, looking at you with shining, green eyes that were filled with so much honest adoration that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Welcome to Inazuma, my dear adventurer.”

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging. I would really appreciate the support! <3

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos, @childe-support, @rim0na,@the-gayest-sky-kid, @aphrodicts-imagination

#thoma x reader #thoma genshin x reader #thoma x you #thoma genshin x you #thoma x gn!reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin fluff #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #reader insert #thoma x y/n

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years ago

Text

Hiiii! Here’s part two of my Katniss and Peeta Taking Of Each Other bookcomb! It’s pretty long so … sorry 😬. There was a lot I didn’t include and a lot I wasn’t sure about including, because so much of Catching Fire and Mockingjay is about them wanting to protect the other but I tried to narrow it down to actual acts that were caring, or times they at least tried to care for the other.

Then, as if I can’t stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn’t entirely in command of his artificial leg — and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that’s where we have our first kiss in months. It’s full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I’m not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way.

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers follow a pace or two behind us.

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment.

“He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man.

“He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”

When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.

“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.

“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.

My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”

“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.

My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I’m so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there.

Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you’d changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”

I’m foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I’d made a run for it, maybe with Gale.

“No, I’d have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today.

Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television.

Effie, shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girls’ reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one piece of paper that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.

“Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?” I ask, somehow annoyed.

“To show he’s going to do everything he can to defend you. That’s what everyone in the Capitol’s expecting, anyway. Didn’t he volunteer to go in with you?” Effie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I lock my fingers tightly into his and say, “Watch my feet. Just try to step where I step.” It helps. We seem to move a little faster, but never enough to afford a rest, and the mist continues to lap at our heels.

Peeta and Finnick and I position ourselves in a triangle, a few yards apart, our backs to one another. My heart sinks as my fingers draw back my last arrow. Then I remember Peeta has a sheath, too. And he’s not shooting, he’s hacking away with that knife. My own knife is out now, but the monkeys are quicker, can spring in and out so fast you can barely react.

“Peeta!” I shout. “Your arrows!”

Peeta turns to see my predicament and is sliding off his sheath when it happens. A monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. I have no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the thud of Finnick’s trident finding another mark and know his weapon is occupied. Peeta’s knife arm is disabled as he tries to remove the sheath. I throw my knife at the oncoming mutt but the creature somersaults, evading the blade, and stays on its trajectory.

Weaponless, defenseless, I do the only thing I can think of. I run for Peeta, to knock him to the ground, to protect his body with mine, even though I know I won’t make it in time.

While I help Peeta coat his skin with the ointment, Finnick deftly cleans the meat from the shellfish.

I stretch out, pressing my hot cheek on the grass mat, staring at the thing in aggravation. Peeta rubs a tense spot between my shoulders and I let myself relax a little.

I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.

“It’s all right, Katniss,” he whispers.

“Katniss!” I hear his voice though he’s a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. “Katniss!”

I can’t protect him. I can’t move fast or far and my shooting abilities are questionable at best. I do the one thing I can to draw the attackers away from him and over to me. “Peeta!” I scream out. “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” Yes, I will draw them in, any in my vicinity, away from Peeta and over to me and the lightning tree that will soon be a weapon in and of itself. “I’m here! I’m here!” He won’t make it. Not with that leg in the night. He will never make it in time. “Peeta!”

I’m rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I’m in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. “When the war is over, if we’ve won, Peeta will be pardoned.”

At the mention of my name, Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . .” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning!”

Off camera, Snow orders, “End it!” Beetee throws the whole thing into chaos by flashing a still shot of me standing in front of the hospital at three-second intervals. But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Peeta’s attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that’s inseparable from Peeta’s cry of pain.

And his blood as it splatters the tiles.

I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.” I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.

I press my lips together at the memories of rain dripping through stones, my inept attempts at flirting, and the aroma of my favorite Capitol dish in the chilly air. So some part of it must still be in his head, too. How happy, how hungry, how close we were when that picnic basket arrived outside our cave.

In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. “There’s still time. You should sleep.” Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn’t recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. It’s the first time I have voluntarily touched him since the last arena.

“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.

“Real,” I answer. It seems to require more explanation. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.” After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

“Katniss!” He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you,” says Peeta. “Run! Get out! Go!”

It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”

Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to . . .”

I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”

His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.

I help Peeta up and address Pollux.

While Cressida and Pollux make fur nests for each of us, I attend to Peeta’s wrists. Gently rinsing away the blood, putting on an antiseptic, and bandaging them beneath the cuffs.

By the time I make it back to the fence, I’m so sick and dizzy, Thom has to give me a ride home in the dead people’s cart. Help me to the sofa in the living room, where I watch the dust motes spin in the thin shafts of afternoon light.

My head snaps around at the hiss, but it takes awhile to believe he’s real. How could he have gotten here? I take in the claw marks from some wild animal, the back paw he holds slightly above the ground, the prominent bones in his face. He’s come on foot, then, all the way from 13. Maybe they kicked him out or maybe he just couldn’t stand it there without her, so he came looking.

[…]

Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. “She’s dead.” I clutch my middle to dull the pain. Sink down on my heels, rocking the pillow, crying. “She’s dead, you stupid cat. She’s dead.” A new sound, part crying, part singing, comes out of my body, giving voice to my despair. Buttercup begins to wail as well. No matter what I do, he won’t go. He circles me, just out of reach, as wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand. He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts. Because hours later, when I come to in my bed, he’s there in the moonlight. Crouched beside me, yellow eyes alert, guarding me from the night.

Peeta, bearing a warm loaf of bread, shows up with Greasy Sae. She makes us breakfast and I feed all my bacon to Buttercup.

I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway.

Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

#everlark #thg #thgagain #bookcomb ♥️🔎#hunger games #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #catching fire #mockingjay #long post

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starfirette · 3 years ago

Note

You have awoken some thirsty for Helena peeps (myself included). Can I request some nsfw motorcycle action?

Vroom Vroom

💫This is so old and I’m so sorry but Helena needs attention!

💫masterlist | more Helena | 18+ | warnings: she/her reader + motorcycle kink/squirting? Is that it? Helena with the looooong hair ❤️❤️🥺🥺😩😩 I think Hershey’s Chocolate and TJMaxx should sponsor me :)))))

💫this prompt lives in my head with Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX playing over it all day every day

“Is this some sort of punishment?” You snapped.

You didn’t need to hear an answer; you already know what Helena is thinking.

Helena walked around the garage, her boot soles scuffing the soft floor.

“You have objections?” Helena scoffed.

You were perched on Helena’s beloved motorcycle, the sleek black and leather pod that rivaled even Batman’s.

You were naked and a little angry. Salty would be the best way to put it, salty and naked and a bit cold. It made your nipples perk up, so you had your arms crossed over your chest.

“Objections imply there’s something I’m on trial for!” You snapped. You writhed around on the motorcycle in an attempt for warmth. The garage was clean but cold, in the process of becoming insulated so Cassie and Harley could move in.

The house was large but tucked away into the forests lining the Gotham outer limits. Harley called it a fortress, and Cass referred to it as the lair, as in where you all convened to prepare for top secret missions.

The truth of the matter is that all you ladies were close friends and only had each other. Harley organized the transactions and business contracts, while Helena, Dinah, and Renée took care of the dirty work. Cass was Harley’s apprentice, and you were Mother Hen: you handled security of the shared house, securing the targets, and being over all pleasant. You guarded the overall safety of the Birds of Prey, the women’s mercenary society that occasionally got to work with Batman or Hawkgirl. You were thus very close with all of them. The romance between you and Helena was not unnoticed. It was well received, respected, and even encouraged.

But the thing that was wrong with that—the one little thing that got in the way?

You and Dinah were once known to be an item. It was casual sex and no feelings had ever been attached. She was your best friend, and she always would be. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you both to find solace in sex with each other.

This was ages before Helena had rolled into town. It was ages before the Birds had even met one another and became a hot topic. Dinah was a friend since you’d been a teenager, so it was only natural to have some sort of intimacy with her.

Helena didn’t really care about it until Dinah made a joke in VERY poor taste. As you’re sitting there, on the motorcycle, in the cold, with Helena frowning at you, you realize you can’t even remember what the joke was exactly. Something about your vagina, for sure, and it alluded to the fact Dinah was familiar with that. With your vagina.

“Helena,” you said, your voice slightly louder than it should have been. “It was a joke. I want to go in. I want to fucking SLEEP. We just finished the Batman mission, we should be popping bottles of cristal and chasing it with Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup.”

“She still thinks that she has claim over you!” Helena shouted. Her long, dark hair was rolling over her shoulders in tight waves.

You wanted to laugh. You would have if you hadn’t been somewhat entranced by the look in her eye.

“She never had a claim,” you muttered.

“She doesn’t anymore!” Helena harrahed sarcastically.

“So this is all to stake your claim?” You demand as you gestured to the crazy circumstances you’d found yourself in.

“No? No! This is about me being assertive,” Helena said. She sounded entirely confident about that, except for when her voice made a massive break in tone. She sounded like a depressed kazoo attempting to make her statement clear.

“Okay,” you sighed. You gripped the handles of the motorcycle and took a deep breath. You’d let her be assertive. If it would keep her from being upset with you and Dinah, as well as keep the security of your relationship maintained, then your do it.

“So I’m a little bit lost on why I have to be here. Is this supposed to humiliate me?”

Helena’s lip curled and she looked like a thirteen year old boy being told that he wouldn’t be getting the next generation game console he so desired.

“It’s SUPPOSED to be a sexy way to keep us both...” She trailed off her words and made a weird gesture with her hands.

You mimicked that motion with your own hands. “What is this?”

“It’s us, together,” Helena grittily explained. “Just—Just forget it. You’re going to sit there and you’re not going to talk. You’re not going to do anything, not until I say you can.”

You lifted a brow. “Okay?”

It didn’t seem like a solid plan, honestly, and you were doubting the severity of it as Helena approached.

“Okay. Scoot up.”

“Alright,” you grumbled. Helena mounted the motorcycle, sitting behind you. It was a reversal of the position you two usually were in. Typically Helena drove while you clutched onto her from behind, squealing as the wind tickled your hair and face.

“Now what? We just drive around Gotham?” You quipped cockily.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go to Jack In The Box.”

You looked over your shoulder, surprised. “Can we really get Jack In The Box for dinner?” You asked.

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Helena said loudly, feeling rather annoyed.

“Sorry,” you heaved. Gosh. What was she so upset about anyway! Dinah had made one little joke, and it set her off.

“...Was what Dinah said not funny or something?” You m asked after a minute of silence.

Helena snaked a hand to grope your breast, and she pinched your nipple hard, rolling the bud in her fingers. You winced and tried not to make so much as a whimper.

Helena put her lips close to your ear. Her voice, like velvet and lace, led your flesh and hair to rise. “Is it so hard to believe that I’m jealous of her?” She whispered.

“Hel, you’re the one I want to be with,” You said quietly as you leaned back into her arms and chest. She was still playing with your bare breasts, and you had come to enjoy it.

“Ah, ah,” she chastised. She pushed you to lean forward again, putting your hands on the handles of the bike. “I made myself clear. No talking. Nothing.”

You frowned as Helena placed her hands atop yours. Her fingers curled over the handlebars, as if she were teaching you just how to drive the motorcycle. But this wasn’t her intention. She slowly revved the engine, using her knee to press you closer into the seat of the cycle. The rumble of the engine reverberated into your clit, and you realized what she was trying to do.

A motorcycle? Really?

"You're absurd," you sputtered as the leather seat murmured into your clit, the little bundle of nerves being cooperative with such a pleasant surprise.

Helena shifted, sitting now side saddle on the motorcycle. She set her leg up on the seat and pressed her knee against the small of your back. She pressed into you, pushing your pelvis and cunt closer to the leather seat.

The little pain of her knee was nothing compared to the little murmurs of pleasure that were whispering into your cunt, as if the reverberations were trying to convince your clit to open up a credit card with TJMAxx. Your clit quite enjoyed shopping, let's say. Your clit had shopped everywhere. Target, Forever21, ModCloth; but never had your clit shopped at TJMaxx. (If you're confused about the analogy, let's just say the motorcycle is TJMaxx. You have to explain this to your clit before it starts to think to much and become turned off by the prospect of shopping and motorcycles and the sweat gathering between your skin and the leather seating.) But now that your clit is there, in TJMaxx, it's realized that it's getting more from TJMaxx than it had from anywhere.

Helena revved the engine and it shattered the weak, poorly worded analogy to bits as you cried out.

"I think this is a little bit far fetched," you huffed as you craned your neck back. You were in fear of being caught, and the idea made your face and ears blossom with heat.

"Then I guess you'd better hurry up and cum, then," Helena hissed in your ear. She licked the lobe of your ear as you shivered. "Go on. You can grind your pussy on it. I don't mind."

Helena was not usually so generous. She tends to fuel you with punishments and hard hitting orgasms you usually have to argue for. So now that she's encouraging you to romp on what she tends to call her baby, you're a little confused. But the spirit of the event, and the sweat that was misting the air, it was getting to you.

Helena's knee pressed harder into your back as she once again muttered for you to do it.

With a blush in your cheeks, you started to shift your hips. it was easy to do it with the sweat that was gathering between your delicate skin and the leather seating. The firm bike seat pressed against your swollen clit just enough that some application of pressure would drive you wild. It was better than a shopping trip, admittedly.

You were very aware of Helena's lips on the back of your neck as she brushed your hair out of the way and pressed kisses along your skin, making careful demands. How to do it, how fast to do it. She circled her arms around your torso. Her slender hands, though calloused, were still feminine and soft. She had her nails painted black and cut short. Her fingers were pinching at your standing nipples as you romped against the motorcycle. It was a bit embarrassing. Almost shameful. That wasn't enough to stop you. it made you want to get it over with, if anything. You hated it but you enjoyed hating it.

Cum started to burst out of you, and streams of benign fluid was spraying out of your little hole.

Helena laughed as she used a hand to wipe the mess. "Squirting, are we?" she chuckled. "Can't believe you're enjoying this so much."

The purring engine started to roar as she revved the handlebars one more time. You shuddered. You pushed yourself into Helena's torso, grasping at one of her hands.

"Fingers inside," you whimpered.

Helena licked along the underside of your jaw. "No, no, no, nothing inside," she said, her voice mocking your own. "This is a punishment."

Your hole was flinching around nothing, seizing and contracting around emptiness. Your walls ached, on the verge of pain, as you wished to feel something inside of you, be it Helena's favorite strap on or her fingers. You tried to shove your own inside, but Helena snatched your wrist up. Her black nails made imprints on your skin as she forced you to grip the handle.

Your mouth uttered sounds of depraved pleasure, sounds you'd never quite made before.

"Ssh," Helena said in your ear. "Calm down and just relax."

She laughed as your body contorted like a woman possessed.

You grinded and grinded your hips till they were sore. A cramp was forming between your thighs as Helena squeezed your fingers around the clutch. The engine revved a few more times as more of your cum leaked out.

It was minutes upon minutes of such a romp before Helena turned the key and shut her beloved bike off.

She walked circles around the bike, watching as you slumped over the handles and tried to catch your breath. You glared at her as she used a hand to cover her amused smirk.

"You're so vindictive," you gasped out. She shrugged. "I'm simply making sure you understand."

"Understand what?" you moaned as you looked up at her with lazy, dozing eyes.

Helena smiled. She tucked her long, black hair behind her ears as she looked at you, saying, "That you're all mine."

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myonmukyuu · 3 years ago

Photo

Art Summary: 2021

It’s time for my yearly art review! This makes my 8th year of recording year-long summaries. They’re really piling up now. 😊

I feel like this summary isn't really indicative of my improvement? It's more like what I got up to over the year.

...I really did draw stpm for an entire year 🤣

Previous: 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020

Let’s see... what did I get up to this year?

My worklife shifted to primarily working from home, so I ended up getting more time to draw. Though on the flipside I’ve been quite busy with my life, especially because I’ve been trying to organise building a house with my family. Either way, my comic output has been quite constant.

It may have taken me 2-4 months to do ch8 in my series, but I wasn’t spending that time sitting around y’know. I feel like I’m becoming a lot more confident with making comics like this! I usually feel a lot of grief about how I’m “not fast enough” and things like that. But looking back, I really should cut myself some slack 😅. I did 138 pages worth of comic this year. On average that makes about 11 pages a month. Of course this doesn’t take into account whether those pages were coloured or not, not does it take into account the breaks I’ve taken to do standalone illustrations or other things but I still think it’s pretty consistent work if you ask me! And I’m happy I could keep it up. Comics are the kind of thing you get better at by just doing, after all.

As a side-note, I’m also happy that some of my work was accepted onto Dynasty Scans this year. People have different opinions about rehosting, but for my comics specifically, I feel comfort in knowing that they’re archived somewhere outside of my art accounts. Especially somewhere that people visit specifically to read comics.

Overall... I’m pretty darn satisfied with the content I’ve output this year! My series has always been really fun to do (even though it can be stressful) because it really lets me try to flex all of my muscles, y’know? Painting skills, writing skills, doing weird backgrounds, doing weirder angles... Stuff like that. Just trying new things. Even if it’s hard to do, I have a lot of fun trying to push things further! Of course I’m not a machine and that’s not something I can constantly do, so weaving in black/white one-shots is also very satisfying. I think above everything, I want to be able to tell a good story, so being able to do comics quickly in b/w really helps me quickly pump out an idea!

I wonder if there’s anyone out there thinking “when will she get tired of drawing Setsuna/Ayumu” and honestly that’s a really good question. If you’ve been a long time follower of mine, you probably wouldn’t be asking such a question though, You’d know that I’m that kind of person who draws a single thing and nothing else for years at a time 😂. I’m just very focused okay!! I’m a depth-first kind of person when it comes to things and I still feel like there’s so much to explore between these two. I’m sorry if there’s anyone out there who wants me to draw other ships 😂. It’s just that I really adore these characters, so I wanna continue to explore and develop them! Both as characters and as a relationship dynamic. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface honestly... so I have my work cut out for me. (I definitely have no shortage of ideas).

I think that’s it for my general overview? Well it’s what I can think of at the moment. I’m gonna move into where I am and where I wanna go in terms of art.

Like I said before, I’m pretty satisfied with what I’ve been getting up to. Of course, technical-skills-wise I definitely have a long way to go. My lines are still so... tight, I have difficulty drawing in perspective (which really puts a wrench in lining up dramatic panels) and I barely know what 3D-shape is to name a few things. But let’s talk about what I’ve been doing!

Last year I wrote the following goals in my art summary. Let’s address them individually:

“I want to finish my comic series”

Hahhahahahahahah I’m so sorry 2020 me. This comic was a lot bigger than you initially imagine 😂. I’m not going to make any excuses or anything. But I can say for a fact that I will most definitely finish this comic in 2022! I promise!

“I want to continue to play to my strengths and enhance them”

This is a vague-sounding goal, but it still rings true. I know that my skills mainly lie in being able to create atmosphere/tone to best communicate a feeling. At least that’s what I think. But I believe I have been enhancing them! Over the course of my comics this year I’ve been trying lots of new things when it comes to lighting and colour! For my main series comics I actually do quite a bit of research and experimentation. Like in Ch 7 the rainy day scenes took some playing around with. And in ch8 the entire chapter had me trying ~4 different approaches and strategies. I think it’s really important to try to do new things and push out of your comfort-zone so I think this has been valuable to my learning. I feel like I could’ve better explained this bit but... well I’m writing this mainly for myself and I know what I mean sadaskdadklsf

“I also want to continue to try things that are outside of my comfort zone. I want to see myself try things like different angles/perspectives and more complex backgrounds.”

Speaking of comfort zones, I also shared the desires to push from them last year too. I don’t think I really pushed too far, but, I think a little goes a long way y’know? Hmmmm, while I did do more interesting angles and perspectives over the year, I don’t think I pushed as hard as I could. The same with backgrounds. While there is definitely improvement in this areas compared to last year, I think I could do a lot better. But! I will give myself credit where credit is due. It’s actually this year - a few months ago where I started using 3D tools and various other resources to help me draw. I used to be very stubborn against using such things, but now I’m much more open to it. Specifically I’ve started using 3D-models in Clip Studio Paint! This has really helped me visualise different angles and even implement foreshortening where I otherwise would’ve struggled. I feel it has helped with my improvement this year for sure. I’m hoping to better gain and understanding of 3D-space by continuing to use tools to assist me because I seriously have bad intuition for it asdasdasd.

Okay! Moving forward! What do I wanna learn in 2022? Well I have a couple of loose goals:

I want to do more illustrations/quick drawings on top of my comic work.

One thing that I always sulk about is how long my comics take to produce. And at times, it really can’t be helped. Especially if the comic is fully coloured. And like...how do I explain this... I want to upload work as often as any other fan artist, y’know? Whenever I post my big comics I feel the tension of months of work releasing from me, and like, it’s a lot lighter on my mental to be able to work on smaller things and actually finish them. So one thing I’d like to implement is some way to work in smaller works. Whether that’d be little mini comics, or doodles or whatever while I’m working on my bigger comics. How I’ll do this? We’ll see what works, but at the moment I’m thinking of allowing 2-4 hours a week for me to work on whatever I wish outside of the main comic. Like 2 hours twice a week? Or 2 hours a week? Or- well you get the idea, I’ll figure it out! Just some time set for little things so I can get more of my ideas out.

I want to learn to paint.

This isn’t really a compulsory goal, but it’s somethign that would be nice to explore, even if it’s just a bit. For those who aren’t too familiar with making art, I’m referring to a dramatic change in my process. Usually I draw a sketch, ink the lines, and then colour beneath the lines and on top of the sketch. Now when i say “paint” I mean it in terms of process. This would be sketching, plopping base paints on top of the sketch, then colouring as usual, painting in lines as I need them on top (much like traditional painting!). I find the style rather appealing, but it’s a bit hard for me to get used to hahahahah. But if I can figure it out well, it might help contribute to my next goal.

I want to learn to draw faster.

Above everything, I would like to be able to tell the stories that I want to tell. So it’d be helpful if I could output stories at a faster rate. I think my lining is really slow... well I think I’m quite slow in general. Even my drafting is quite slow. There are a two angles I can approach this gripe of mine from.

Faster lines.

Faster/more clever drafting.

As I’ve mentioned my lines are quite tight. If I could learn to be more loose and flowy, then perhaps I’d be able to draw faster.

As I mentioned before, I wanted to dedicate some time each week to do other things. Perhaps one of those things could be speed drawing/doodling. It’s a possibility that just allowing myself to do doodles would passively boost this skill though.

This dips into a flaw that I have that has been bubbling for awhile now. I think I’m horribly inefficient when it comes to panels and pacing when compared to professional mangaka.

...though in general I’m extremely lacking compared to a pro so what am I saying 😂

Either way, the way my comics have been becoming longer and longer is likely related to this. I’m too afraid to compress my comics and end up spacing them out unecessarily. I’m uncertain how to approach this issue as it’s very ingrained in the way I write... Regardless, I believe it to be an issue that directly affects how long I spend working a comic. I mean, if my comic panelling were more efficient, I’d have less to draw!

Again, it’s a toughie to really fix this. I think I’ll just have to do more research and keep it in mind moving forward.

I want to utilise resources that I have available to me and take more active learning.

At work I realised that my office was paying for heaps of learning resources and courses. I figured, if it’s available to me might as well use it? So maybe to help address the other problems I might take paid online lectures about them. Like gesture drawing! Or backgrounding and perspective! Stuff like that has loads of resources online so maybe putting some time into it would be valuable.

I want to print my comic.

This is a bit less of a skill-related thing. But I really want to print my setsuayu comic! I cannot promise I’ll be selling it for cheap, but if anyone buys it, I’d feel really happy! But even if people don’t, just having a physical copy of what I poured my soul into for the past 1.5 years would make me really happy. I do have my work cut out for me though. Gotta finish the comic and then reformat it to fit being printed! I believe in me!!

I also hope I can sell it in an artist alley in the coming year. I feel like people wouldn’t really be interested but.. yeah! I still wanna anyways! I’ll do my best.

General improvement.

I feel like this is a given, but I do hope to continue to improve in the various ways that I can. Like proportions, anatomy, colouring etcetc etc. Since I don’t put too much focus to it, I’m not asking for much. But, if I could be better at the end of next year than I am now, I think I’d be happy with that.

Anyways, I think that’s all from me for now? Maybe? Wait how much did I typ- oh wow 2k words asjkldaskldklas. If anyone takes the time to read this, thank you!! This is mainly written for myself, so that I can keep drawing and then look back and ask myself “did I do what I wanted to do last year?”, reflect and then do it again. For anyone looking to improve a skill, I find it really valuable to do and recommend it!

Happy New Year! Let’s see what 2022 has in store for us. 💖

#my art #art summary #happy new year!

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theeslytherinslut · 4 years ago

Text

12 Grimmauld Place (2/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother

Word Count: 2,272

Warnings: injury, implied smut, cursing

Part 1 | Part 3 |

“I suppose I should clean up,” you gestured to your wrecked state. Trying to get up on your own, however, was laughable, and you fell back against the chair quite quickly.

“Would you like some help?” Sirius asked, knocking over his chair in his angst to help you.

“That might be nice. If you could just, maybe...” you trailed off, trying to think of a good way to get up. But every time you tried to straighten your back, the pain made your vision fuzz around the edges.

“Perhaps I’ll just...lie here,” you resigned to spending the night in your own filth after several attempts.

“Hang on,” Sirius said, and then he was gone.

With an enormous creak and shuddering sensation, as the water protested greatly after years of no use, you heard water being run somewhere in the house. A couple seconds later, Sirius returned to the doorway, sleeves rolled up. You tried not to linger too long on his hands as they glistened with water. No matter how long the two of you had known each other, you’d never get over his hands—something about them made it near impossible to look away.

“I’m going to carry you,” he declared, striding into the room.

“What? No! Sirius...no, I’m much too heavy. I’ll be alright until tomorrow, it’s fine,” you shrugged off, cheeks burning fiery hot at the thought of Sirius carrying you and placing you in the bath.

“Y/N, you are covered in dirt, sweat, dust, and your own blood. I know you well enough to know it is most certainly not alright. Also, your lack of faith in my strength is rather insulting; you’re tiny. Azkaban didn’t do that much damage.” Sirius waved off, an annoyed look painting his features.

“Oh, alright. But if I can’t even stand, how the ruddy hell am I supposed to bathe myself?” you asked, stating the obvious.

“Oh, hmm. Excellent point.” Sirius said, hand coming thoughtfully to his chin. “Well, there’s no one here but me and good old Kreacher. The kids, Molly, and Arthur won’t be here for weeks.”

It was at that moment Kreacher had chosen to poke his bulbous head into the room, no doubt curious as to all the noise in his otherwise quite empty house.

“Ooh, Master has brought home a lady friend....a bloody, filthy lady friend...oh, but could it be...yes, it is so...Kreacher knows her blood runs pure...Mistress would be most pleased,” Kreacher began monologuing. You looked to Sirius, who wore a most tired look on his face.

“Yes, you wretched thing, she’s a pureblood. You and Mother can get positively tingly with excitement about having another one in the house later. For now, go fetch a towel--a clean towel Kreacher.” Sirius commanded him.

“Of course, Master...nothing but the best for the pureblood...” Kreacher bowed, disappearing from the room.

“My mother has positively ruined that poor creature,” Sirius pondered before turning back to you. “So, what’ll it be?”

You weighed your options, but it seemed there was only one. Feeling vaguely as if you were in some cheesy movie, you acquiesced.

“Oh, alright.” you lifted your arms, signaling for Sirius to come pick you up. “But no funny business, Mister. And when I say close your eyes, I better not see them peaking.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss.” Sirius bantered back, snaking an arm under your knees and behind your back.

Looking at him now, he looked much better than you’d seen him recently. That light that always lit his face back at school was just beginning to reach his eyes now.

You’d attended Hogwarts with James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily—though you weren’t quite as close as the group of them. Just a little sibling on the outskirts. You were several years younger, and what’s more, is you’d been placed in Slytherin. Despite this--and much to the dismay of both of your housemates--Remus always came over to chat in the halls, but people years apart in separate houses rarely saw each other. Especially in Gryffindor and Slytherin, no less.

You were fine with things, however, contenting yourself with your housemates--though finding those worthy of friendship was hard. Many of them seemed to make it their mission to further Slytherin’s bad reputation and were assholes just for the sake of being assholes.

Naturally, every time Remus was in the hallways, he was flanked by his friends, James, Sirius, and Peter. James was always friendly, but you saw the way his eyes followed Lily Evans around and knew he was smitten. Sirius, however, well Sirius was different.

Though you weren’t exactly friends, your eyes often trailed after him as he swaggered through the halls with James by his side. Remus seemed to be a touch embarrassed on how the crowds would split for them, but James and Sirius ate it up like candy.

James looked above the crowds, happy to be on top, only coming down to find the redhead he so loved, grinning at her boyishly. Sirius’ eyes raked through the crowds just as much as their eyes raked over him. Always finding one set in particular to smirk or wink at, likely loving the way the blush rose to their cheeks, and they turned to giggle with their friends. Sirius seemed to exude sex appeal, and you weren’t impervious to it.

Your brother’s best friend. You were such a cliche.

When you were younger, he always gave you a boyish smile and even a wave sometimes, the other girls in your grade giggling madly and asking you how you knew him--that always felt good--but as you got older, he began to look at you less. Or at least he wanted you to think so. You could swear you could feel him looking at you, but turn to find his eyes quickly flitting away. Then, when Remus would come up to say hello, his eyes would be on anyone but you. Glaring at passing Slytherins, sneering at others, or looking contemptuous but slightly interested at some of the older girls. And so eventually, you stop letting him catch you looking too. You began dating around just before they left, but it never turned out well as the group of them were suddenly all your older brothers and who wanted to snog a girl with four older brothers--the Marauders, no less.

So instead, you just resigned to watching that last year, drinking in every moment before you’d never see Sirius’ smug smile lighting up the corridors, James never a step too far behind. Their faces were always lit with excitement, some mischievous plan developing behind one of their eyes. Even after Hogwarts, that life never left their eyes. Not as the two entered the Order, not as James settled down with Lily, not even when Harry came along...but you saw it almost go out entirely when James was taken from Sirius, and then you saw it truly die the day he was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Upon his return, some life was breathed back into him but whatever was there was quickly being snuffed out during his house arrest to a place he detested so much, no one but Kreacher and Buckbeak for company.

Suddenly, interrupting your thoughts, Sirius changed direction and stopped in the doorway of what you saw to be the bathroom.

Sirius’ POV

“How do you want to do this?” I asked, pausing as her brows furrowed in thought. My heart raced with fury as I looked down at her broken frame.

Fenrir Greyback. I’d had a bone to pick with him since Moony told me he was the one responsible for his furry little problem, but now, looking at her grimy face, the wild look in her eyes...I had half a mind to call Remus anyway and run out right along with him.

“Hmm, well, let’s see. Set me down on the edge of the tub; as long as I don’t straighten my back too much, I should be able to undress,” she thought out loud. Following her command, I set her gingerly on the edge, wincing with her as I did so.

Why the hell were they after her anyway? She was merely a mole—each side had plenty, and we certainly didn’t sicc our nuttiest killers on each we suspected...but then again, I guess we were the good side. Perhaps it had something to do with Remus? But I couldn’t think of anything he was doing that would result in this.

“I’m just going to try slipping in. If I yell out or something...just keep your eyes shut for a moment,” she said, hissing as her cut up skin hit the hot water.

“Is it too hot?” I asked nervously. Like a bloody teenager, my heart beat wildly in my chest at the thought of her naked body in the tub just behind me.

‘Stop, it’s Moony’s sister,’ I thought to myself--just as I’d done all those years at school.

“Fuck...It’s fine, Sirius, thanks,” she breathed out. “Alright, you can open.”

She sat in a ball, her knees brought up tight to her chest, her Y/H/C hair slicked back against her scalp, sopping wet. Kicking myself before I could let my thoughts wander, I took my shoes off and padded over to her.

Gingerly I worked through her hair until it was free of glass, clean, and soft. Dragging a soft rag across her cut up skin, I cleaned off every bit of grime from her. Enraged once more, I saw the beginnings of dozens of nasty bruises peppered all across her body. I’d kill that bloody wolf if it was the very last thing I did.

As my eyes danced along her wet figure, I had to tear my eyes away several times from how her knees pushed on her breasts, cursing myself for my inappropriate timing. However, it wasn’t every day I got to bathe the potty-mouthed, absolutely breathtaking Slytherin I’d been watching for years...even if she was Remus’ sister.

She kept to herself in school, only really talking to her friend group, but I swore I caught her eyes on me quite a few times, but she’d always turn scarlet and look away before I could be sure.

“Hang on,” she said, and I held my breath as she straightened out a leg and placed it down. Not wanting to look like a pervert, I averted my eyes away from her now exposed chest.

“It’s alright, I’ve covered them with my arm,” she said, her cheeks bright red as her hand dove into the water to cover the spot I fantasized about most.

Closing my eyes and willing myself to stop, I picked up the rag again and brushed the rag gingerly against her thighs, this time being unable to tear my thoughts away from her creamy skin. Just a stroke or two farther...and I could make her forget all about the events of the night.

I cut myself off once again as I felt a stirring in my stomach, but it was too late. I could already feel the blood rushing quickly as the image of her splayed out, cheeks red this time from pleasure, gasping my name as she clenched around fingers.

“Sirius?” She asked, snatching me from my thoughts. Cursing quietly, I looked down to find a definite tent in my pants.

Y/N’s POV

“Sorry, what?” he asked, his cheeks a more red shade than normal, his pupils all blown.

“I said I think that’s as good as I’m gonna get. Close your eyes and give me your hand so I can stand,” you said, gingerly reaching for the white, fluffy towel Kreacher had placed on the toilet. Though this bathroom was a right sight better than the rest of the house, the towel practically gleamed comparatively.

“Alright,” you said after a moment, wrapping the towel around you. “I feel a bit better after my bath. Perhaps I could try walking again.”

“Alright, but I’ll be right here,” Sirius said, standing steadfastly at your side. It seemed he was taking Madam Pomfrey’s words to heart.

Gingerly straightening, you made it a fair bit higher before your back protested, and you started walking slowly towards the door.

“Where should I go?” I asked. I’d only been in the kitchen of the old house a handful of times.

“I’m afraid I only have the one room cleaned up thus far. Molly said she was going to give me a hand on that...” Sirius trailed off, looking embarrassed. “It’s just down the hall here.”

He led you down the quiet hallway, various paintings muttering mutinously underneath their sheet drapings.

“Not too friendly, then?” you asked, gesturing to one who was hissing faintly.

“Meet my family,” Sirius grimaced.

“These are...this is your house?” you asked him. Thinking back to your childhood years, you’d often pondered where Remus’ friends lived, but never did you dream of a place like this for Sirius.

“The Noble House of Black,” he muttered in a funny voice.

“Was that a Kreacher impression?” you asked, a smile coming to your face for the first time that night.

“It was good, then?” Sirius said, smiling at you playfully. The sight took your breath away; it took you a second to reply.

“Dead awful, love,” you laughed. Not two hours after having been almost killed and Sirius had you laughing.

“Ah, just as well. Don’t want to be anything like the cretin.” he shuddered as the two of you came to a doorway opening up to a spacious, light room.

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