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sematarygirls · 2 months ago

Note

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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I know there’s a human resistance rebellion they could probably snatch some baby humans from or something, but what about like human breeding or something? is that a thing in this universe? Since they’re more akin to pets I was wondering if there was some sort of like human breeders.

Since there’s also like selective breeding for pets there could also be selective breeding for only the most fertile humans (even if it technically doesn’t work that way). They might not even keep the males, it could be like how they just harvest sperm and artificially inseminate them?

Just worldbuilding from your silly local rice ball lover 🍙

That's a really good point, thank you, Onigiri anon!! Yes, some humans are kept as nothing more than breeding mares to move humans. Unfortunately, in the initial uprising, a large population of humans, especially the most vulnerable ones, were killed by monsters, hunger, and the elements when the civilization fell into dystopia for the first time. Monsters quickly learned that just killing every human they see isn't really a viable scenario, and someone had to pick up where the others have fallen. Men and women are both viable for reproduction, esp for species that lay eggs, like Konig or Gaz. With monsters of egg-laying type, no matter if they are birds or reptiles or sea life, they are using humans as incubators, since they need warm and soft bodies for the eggs to nourish on. It's more like a reverse seahorse situation, when you're inserted with eggs, but don't really have a genetic intake on how the babies are going to turn up. There is a chance of a more traditional pregnancy with children resembling both parents, but it's extremely rare and frowned upon by monsters - after all, humans are deemed inherently weak by any monster. Selective breeding saves both male and female specimens, as long as they have more advantages to raise the monster brood properly - I imagine wider hips, softer bodies in general, resilience to pain, and the submissiveness that gets really stuck in their heads as a result. With humans sold in pet shops, it's no wonder that some monster species are taking their role as caretakers and raisers of new human generations for further breeding - as fucked up as it might be. some humans get released by human resistance, although if a person comes from this indoctrinated, monster-pleasing background, they wouldn't be able to survive in the wild, in most cases. Also as a fun fact, humans have much larger life spans than any human would - Konig can easily clock up at least 100 years and more and more, as long as he isn't killed - but the thing is, that human's biology gets irreversibly changed after a prolonged and repeated exposure to monster semen. Our poor breeding wifey, she doesn't even know that aging isn't a problem anymore( death of old age isn't going to help her get free of Konig, they have mated, and she will be alive for much, much longer, her life span increasing with every time an egg or semen gets deposited in her.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #tw: monster fucking #monster!141 #cod x reader #monster!konig

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 2 months ago

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a/n: 1.6k - immortal!reader asks zhongli to tell tales abt guizhong (this is technically a small blurb linked to my fic Dragonfly, however i've tried to make this so you don't *need* to read it to understand this, but feel free to do so regardless! note-the reader was 'dead' during a period of the archon war)

"zhongli, do you have some time?" you, after having just returned home, pop your head into the tearoom on the second floor of your shared home with zhongli. it was on the cusp of evening, the last light of afternoon shifting into deeper colors that will soon give way to nightfall. your partner in which you hope you aren't bothering after his own long day at work sits comfortably at the small round table with a pot of tea. It must still be fresh since the amount in his clay cup still wafts high with steam.

"always for you," he hums. he turns his neck towards the doorway and jerks his chin inwardly in silent invitation. you make your way to the table across from him as he begins to pour new tea into the spare cup he always keeps along with his kettle in case you join him. he has discarded his long-tailed coat and sits in his buttoned collared shirt that has wrinkles of the day creased into it. still, he even makes disheveled clothing look elegant.

he pours your tea and slides it towards you, along with any additives that you may use. honey, sugar cubes and the like. he never used to keep such additions on hand since he was never fond of sweetened teas. but he always wants to accommodate your presence.

"today, the traveler and i made a trip up to cloud retainers abode."

"oh?" he hums, taking a sip of his warm tea. "that is quite the journey."

"it's not so bad with the traveler's ability to access teleport waypoints," you muse, but quickly catch yourself from going on a tangent since that was not the purpose of your attendance of his time. "while she spends more time among humans as xianyun, cloud retainer was very accepting of us having a meal together aside her home at mt. aozang."

"she's become much more hospitable to humans lately. it is a nice change to witness in her demeanor since she was particularly adverse to mortals for so long."

"she's also quite the story teller. she spoke about so many things over such a short meal. i don't think I've quite seen paimon more confused trying to keep up with everything." you chuckle at the recollection and the dizzing swirls that clouded the confused fairy's eyes. zhongli chuckled in tandem.

a comfortable silence falls over the room like a warm blanket. the sun had changed and evening had begun with it's golden hue. zhongli's focus was pointed outside, watching the day's stragglers dot the streets down below. you tap your fingertip on the tabletop softly, wondering if you could really ask about what you want to. just from hearing second hand, you didn't know if it would be a sensitive subject for zhongli if you breached it.

"you're awfully fidgety," he flicks his eyes towards you as you sigh. tearing his face from the direction of the window, he returns his full attention towards you. "is something on your mind, my dear?"

"here sits rex." zhongli's spine locks his posture. "here sits guizhong." you whisper both short phrases. the small table you shared with xianyun, the traveler, and paimon today was the very table she used to share with her rex lapis and guizhong many, many years ago.

maybe this wasn't a good idea.

zhongli's face did not show any anger or resentment, but the way the aura around him shifted? it made you feel guilty for even bringing it up. you sigh, clear your throat, and shake your head.

"i... nevermind. i apologize for bringing that up. please, forget I said anything at all."

silence returned, but it was less comfortable than before. you take a couple sips of your tea, swallowing hard but the liquid warming your chest all the same. zhongli has not lifted his cup, but he has redirected his gaze outside once again. maybe he really would drop the conversation as you insisted.

half way through your cup, your tea started tasting too bitter for your liking and you thought it would be a good time to leave the room altogether. just leave zhongli to his thoughts and maybe preparing some food as another apology for prying into a past that had nothing to do with you.

you set your cup further away from you, a clear sign that you were finished. your chair pushes back and zhongli looks across the table to you. with your downcase gaze to make sure you didn't trip over any of the table legs, you miss the hard swallow of zhongli's that bobbed his apples adam and the near desperate look he shot towards you. like he was pleading with you not to leave him just yet.

"dear, wait-"

"it's getting late, so i'll start dinner."

"hold on," he breathes. joining you by standing to his feet and rounding the table so quickly his hip brushes back the corner. "please, y/n, wait a moment," he steps in front of you. his arms come up to gently rest his hands on your forearms.

zhongli sighs seeing your dejected look. one of his hands come to hook under your chin to bring your gaze up to his. seeing the sliver of guilt in your eyes made his heart ache. his thumb brushes over your cheek and you lean into his touch, making a weak smile run across his lips.

"please don't misunderstand, i'm not angry." his hand slips down your neck. "I'm not angry" -he reiterates with a sigh- "but could you tell me why you're interested?" his palm rests on the crook of your neck now, thumb absentmindedly rubbing softly back and forth across your pulse point. he's always enjoyed feeling your life under his fingertips.

"i've always been interested," you tell him solemnly. "knowing about the god who was at your side when i wasn't, taking care of you. i've always wanted to know about her." you advert your gaze elsewhere with a small pout on your lips. the silence in the room that follows your reply gives you time to clock how you sounded... and you gasp. with a quick motion that zhongli wasn't expecting, you whip your gaze back up towards him and grasp his wrist in your hand firmly. "i'm not jealous or anything!"

"i didn't think you were," he chuckles, continuing his soft thumb stroke across your neck. he wasn't sure if you heard him though since you continue trying to save face that you haven't even sullied.

"really, im not at all. whether you had any romantic feelings for lady guizhong or not has nothing to do with me- or us? this us, of today i mean. or... i guess of the past? i mean during that time i was dead- so to speak anyway- so, i really don't mind if you two were intimate. she seemed like a wonderful god, and so it-"

"y/n," his voice cuts through your nervous rambles as his second hand comes to rest on the opposite side of your neck. you stop speaking and he chuckles at the flustered expression you wear. using the heels of his hands, he lifts your face up by the undersides of your chin to kiss your cheek. you can feel the smile of his lips on your skin. "calm down," he whispers.

your racing pulse does as commanded and soon you were relaxing in his hold.

"guizhong and i were never lovers," he tells you. "she was a dear friend of mine, but even back then, taking a romantic route with someone other than you was never an option for me, rest assured."

"i was never worried about it," you pout again. "if you two were lovers, at least i would've had the satisfaction of knowing you were being taken care of. according to cloud retainer, guizhong was quite the mother hen."

"she cared deeply for others, that's true. still, nothing between us romatically ever happened."

zhongli should've told you about guizhong long ago. he knows this, but still, sometimes talking about his dear lost friend still stings. such a pure and kind soul didn't deserve the ending she got.

your free hand that wasn't loosely wrapped around your lover's wrist, comes to gently place itself against his chest. your palm resting against the center of his torso.

"you truly do not need to tell me anything. i understand." and zhongli knows you do. you're so sincere that sometimes he truly believes you're too good for him. still, he wants to tell you. zhongli wants to tell you, his partner in this long life of his, all about the lord of dust guizhong; about his best friend from an age long past.

zhongli slides his hands off your neck and down your arms to soon lovingly encase your hands in his. without his gloves, you can see the golden veins running through him. sometimes you wonder if zhongli secretly had the sun inside him. the god of old brings your clasped hands to his chin and kisses the top of them, eyes shut gently to take in the warmth of them against his lips and skin.

"please," he whipsers. "rejoin me for some tea? i'll tell you all about her." his eyes open and there's a shimmer of mirth behind their golden hue. he lowers your hands just enough to show off his mouth. his smiling warmly and nostaligically. "she'd surely give me quite the lecture if i did not tell my dearest lover all about her."

as he leads you back to the tea tables, he moves his chair to be beside yours so he can continue to hold your hand. entertwaining his fingers with yours, he strokes your knuckles as he weaves his words together as fluently and elgantly as possible.

telling you silly things, serious things, sad things, happy things. everything he could think about. he watches you laugh and your eyes mist over at her demise. he smiles as you listen to him so intivitely.

"guizhong would have adored you."

a/n pt.2: this was sitting in my drafts foreverrrr and i could never find a way to feel like it was written the way i wanted it to be?? but im tired of trying to fix it so into the wild it goes (i just really wanted to write about guizhong ;-; )

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli comfort #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact fluff #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli headcanons #zhongli scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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I just saw a skating show and one of the guys looked like bucky and now I NEED a yn × figure skating partner bucky one shot. With them working on a throw and he's all mad she can't land it then gets hurt and all the angst and comforting. Omg please I'll cry I love you! ❤️

Ok, I have to admit this was my first ask and I got so excited that this got a little away from me. I'd like to say I'm sorry for not putting much technical stuff about figure skating in it but I know really nothing, I did my best researching stuff but it's still not much. I hope you're happy how it turned out, if not let me know! I really just took it and ran with it, I really hope you like it. 🥹❤️

also, sorry it took me a little but my keyboard broke and I had to wait for the new one because writing on the phone I would've made too many mistakes.

On Thin Ice - Bucky Barnes x y/n Stark

Summary: you're paired with Bucky Barnes for an important competition but your negative feelings towards each other make everything much more difficult. Figure Skating AU.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Stark reader

Warnings: Bucky being an ass. Reader gets hurt. Angst. Language cause why not. Minimal use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 6.6K

Masterlist

Being a Stark isn't always easy.

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like you’re superheroes or anything, but being the daughter of Tony Stark meant that you always had to be not only on your best behavior but you had to be the best in general, no matter what you were doing.

It’s always been a lot of pressure growing up, but it's something you're used to at this point.

All your life there just wasn’t room for failure.

When you were little you hated it, sometimes even hated your dad for it, but you had to give it to him that it made you detail oriented and more driven and focused than most, so with time you came to be grateful for it.

His continuous badgering you into taking various lessons as a kid is also what led you to discover your passion: figure skating.

Skating was something that just somehow came naturally to you, and the more time you spent at the ice rink the more you fell in love with it.

You loved just spending hours going and going, to the point where the world blurred around you and you almost felt like you were flying.

After seeing how happy it made you, your father eased up a bit on you, but he still expected perfection, which you always worked hard to provide.

All you’ve always wanted was to make him proud of you. Which he was and never failed to mention, but you were still terrified of disappointing him.

All the pressure your last name came with was nothing compared to the pressure you put on yourself, you were always your hardest critic.

That is, at least, until you met Bucky Barnes.

You don't know why, maybe he just hates you and likes to humiliate you, but it seems like he always has something to say about your performances.

It all started the very first day you met, you were 18 at the ice rink your father decided to buy for you on your birthday the week before.

You were shocked to say the least when he told you, but he had always been better at showing his love rather than saying it, and don’t ever let it be said that Tony Stark didn’t love his daughter to death.

It was the same place where you skated for the first time when you were merely 5 years old, which you then changed for one closer to your home, but this one held so much more sentiment for you that the extra travel time was worth it, and it was also much bigger, the place where a lot of the important competitions happened.

The Saturday after your birthday you finally had some free time having just finished exams week and finally being done with high school once and for all, so you planned to meet up with Natasha at the newly named ‘Stark’s snowland’.

Natasha was also a figure skater and you two have known each other since you were 8 years old, participating in almost a lot your competitions together, which usually ended with the two of you in first and second place.

Then Natasha started doing more and more couples competitions with various partners, but you were still always there to cheer for each other.

When she texted she was running late, you decided to just wait for her on the ice so you went inside, put on your skates and just got lost in your head, glad that the early hour meant nobody was around yet.

Then, after having done a few easy moves and having just finished an Axel, you heard some clapping coming from the entrance of the rink.

You stopped abruptly and looked for the source of the noise when you spotted a brunette cheering on you like he was at the Olympics standing beside a blonde that looked kind of embarrassed by his friends' antics.

"Didn’t realize I had an audience." you said, while moving towards them.

"Well, you should with the way you move out there." the brunette said, shamelessly checking you out shortly before receiving a smack behind his head, courtesy of blondie.

"Sorry about him. My name’s Steve," the blonde said while you tried hard not to laugh at the look his friend was giving him. "and this jerk here is Bucky." He pointed at his friend, who seemed to suddenly remember you were there because he turned to you with a charming smile while you introduced yourself.

"Is this your first time skating here?" Bucky asked "I’m sure I would remember a pretty face like yours." he then added, making you blush.

"I usually only come here for competitions, but-" before you could finish talking you heard the door behind them open and Natasha screaming "Stark!" making the boys turn around to look at her.

"Romanoff!" you greeted her, laughing.

Bucky turned back to you, face suddenly all serious, which confused you a lot since he was all flirty smiles until two seconds before. He mumbled something about having to go and almost ran away as fast as he could.

You looked at Steve who seemed as confused as you felt, gave you an apologetic smile and went after his friend.

You didn’t have much more time to ponder on the sudden turn of events because Natasha was in her skates on record time and raring to go.

All you know is, for the rest of the day you felt Bucky’s eyes on you but every time you turned to him he had a stoic look on his face, and every word out of his mouth towards you was criticism on whatever you were doing.

And here we are now, 6 years later and nothing has changed.

Now 24 and having graduated college, you can be found at Stark’s almost everyday while you figure out the next phase of your life.

It’s honestly not bad, your dad wanted you to intern for him at Stark Industries during college so, after you graduated, you could start working for him full time, but that’s not what you wanted.

If you’re honest with yourself you do want to take over your father’s empire one day, just not yet.

You wanted to keep doing skating competitions, therefore all the free time that you had during college was spent skating. And so, as a compromise, your dad had you teach a few kid classes during the week when one of the teachers unexpectedly quit one day, and you happily agreed.

You did this for all the duration of college, after graduating you kept doing it and, to your father’s delight, took on even more classes to keep yourself a bit more occupied.

It was at the end of one of these classes that you were suddenly approached by Barnes today, which was very rare.

Usually both of you did your best to avoid each other, even when you started being there everyday, you wouldn’t give each other even a second glance, as far as you were concerned.

You’ve liked him when you first met him, but after months of him being nothing but an ass to you, you decided to stop trying and largely ignore him unless you were in a larger group that consisted of you, him, Steve, Natasha, Sam, another friend of theirs that you quickly became friends with, and Scott, a friend you made your first week of college.

Needless to say, you were baffled to see Bucky walk up to you and not immediately insult your behavior during the lesson that just ended, like he usually does when he gifts you with his presence. Instead he said "Hey Stark, can we talk?"

"Uhm… sure. What’s up, Barnes?" you say while starting to put down the cones you'll need for your next class.

"You know the couples competition that we’re having here in a few months?" he asks, following behind you. You think he looks nervous, which you find weird as Bucky Barnes is as confident as they come.

"Yeah, what about it?" You stop what you’re doing and turn around towards him, too curious to not give him all your attention.

"Well, I wanted to sign up, but it seems like I’m missing a partner.,," he says while rubbing his neck, almost embarrassed by what he’s asking.

"Don’t you usually team up with Nat?" you ask him.

"I do, but she’s gonna be out of town that day, and all the other girls are either paired up or not interested…" he explains, still not going to the point.

"Where are you going with this, Barnes?" You ask, crossing your arms in irritation at the time he was wasting while you still have things to do before your next class.

"Are you really going to make me ask?" he almost whines and, when you merely raise your eyebrow, a clearly amused face at his almost desperation, he finally gets to the point of his interruption. "Fine. Will you be my partner?"

Although you suspected where he was going, it's still a little shocking to hear him ask. Before you answer him though, you feel the need to tell him "You know I’ve never done pairs before, right? Not even outside of competitions."

"I know, but I also know you’re a fast learner." at your confused look, he elaborates "You’ve been training here for what, six years now? I’ve seen you learn pretty advanced moves in a crazy short amount of time for last minute competitions or even just for fun. And, whether I like it or not, you’re one of the best figure skaters I’ve ever met." he finishes.

That last sentence has you scoffing at him and starting to get annoyed at him "You don’t need to lie to me just to get me to agree just because you’re desperate for a partner."

"Why would you think I’m lying?" he says while having the audacity to look confused at your anger.

"You do nothing but criticize me all the time! The real question is, why would I ever think otherwise?"

"Just because I criticize you, doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re good!" he says it like was the most obvious thing in the world. "Please Y/N, I really need a partner, and, right now, you’re my only choice. Please." he adds at the end, just for good measure.

To be fair, Bucky had never been this polite or patient with you, and has never even called you by your first name, so it was clear that this was important to him, which is probably what led you to say yes.

He seemed happy for all of two seconds before going back to being the usual jerk, which made you instantly start to regret your decision, but you figured old habits die hard, you just had to be a little patient and he would get easier to work with the more he got used to this.

Boy, were you wrong.

For the next three months you met with Bucky three times a week, working out your routine and training sometimes even for hours.

It wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but what really annoyed you to no end was finding out that Bucky’s favorite brand of training seemed to be complaining.

All he did was criticize every move you made, right or wrong, even the couples ones you were still learning.

You also found out that being so close to him for such long periods of time made you clumsier than ever, which did not at all help the situation.

All it took was for you to be near him enough to be surrounded by his cologne and suddenly you were falling more than usual, missing your cues and straight up forgetting the next steps of the routine, which only gave Bucky more fuel to add to the fire.

It also didn’t help that whenever Bucky asked you why you were so distracted you lost all your natural Stark sarcasm and could barely get out a sound, not knowing how to tell him even if you wanted to, which you definitely didn’t, that he was the problem.

But you somehow made it through it and, with a week to go before the competition, you had it down to a T.

Or almost.

"Damn it." you say, frustrated with yourself, after you almost fall again on the landing of the throw jump.

The problem with throw jumps is that Bucky has to pick you up and quite literally throw you in the air and, while he does that quite easily, being so close to him right before he throws you disorients you just enough to miss twists and fumble the landing.

A thing that you’d never tell Bucky, which at the moment is giving the most annoyed look you’ve ever seen on his stupidly pretty face.

"Seriously, Stark?!" He almost yells while skating closer to you. "Why the hell is this taking you so long to get right? You’ve done harder things than this both by yourself and with me, so what the hell is wrong with you?"

Like always, you don’t quite know how to respond to him, not even wanting to acknowledge the cause of your concentration problem.

"Let’s just try this again." You say, quieter than you normally would, and get in position.

Your back is turned to him but you can hear him sigh before you feel him move and position himself next to you. You nod at Scott who’s controlling the music, and he starts again.

Everything is going great, until, again you fumble the landing, but this time you fall on your knees. You can hear Scott shouting your name, so you hold a thumbs up to let him know you’re okay.

You can see Bucky getting closer to you with your peripheral vision, but don’t look up or even try to make a move to get up.

You can feel the tears starting to form in your eyes, not because it hurts, but because you’re so frustrated with yourself for not being able to do this.

You’re trying your hardest not to cry out of anger when you see Bucky’s hand in front of your face, a silent offer of help. The last thing you want to do right now is look at his stupid face, so you slap his hand away and get up on your own, ignoring Bucky almost altogether and putting yourself in position to start again from the top.

Bucky comes behind you, but this time you can feel him looking at you while he says, "We don’t have to go again. We can stop here for today." his voice much quieter than it's ever been before, which only fuels your anger more.

"The competition’s next week Barnes, unless you want us to make fools of ourselves, we need to do this until I get it right." You snapped, letting him see you angry for the first time since you started training.

He was a little shocked but didn’t say anything else while he got in position, signaling to Scott to start the music.

All you can think about at this point is the disappointment on your dad’s face if you don’t win the competition, or worse fall like you just did.

You’re not even focused on Bucky anymore, in fact you’re so distracted that you don’t even make it to the throw jump before you fall, except this time you can feel that something’s wrong as soon as you hit the ice.

You can feel pain shoot from your ankle through your whole body and get immediately dizzy, you could barely make out the lights on the ceiling, your eyes going in and out of focus.

You can hear yelling and, once you concentrated, you can make out Bucky's voice saying words like ‘stupid’ and ‘incompetent’, which made you wish you had just passed out so you wouldn’t have to hear him insult you.

Your mind seemed to clear a little and you realized your tears finally started falling at some point, but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that before you were being helped to your feet, Scott telling you he was taking you to the hospital and everything was going to be okay.

You realized Bucky was no longer next to you before you even realized you didn’t have skates on anymore and were barefoot, but you just assumed he was too mad at you to care about your ankle.

You’re sitting in a hospital bed with a stomp on your left foot when your dad walks in, worry all over his face.

"Hey junior, are you okay?" you roll your eyes at his nickname, surely you don’t expect Tony Stark to be any less sarcastic seeing you well enough, but you’ve begged him to drop the stupid nickname which he refuses to because ‘but you’re just like me, it's a compliment!’

"I’m okay dad, just have to wear this for a few days." you say, pointing to your foot on a pillow.

"Good. Wanna tell me what happened?" he asks, taking a seat beside your bed.

"Just landed wrong while practicing the routine with Barnes. Too distracted, kept fucking up landings." you tell him, not daring to look in his eyes.

"Pushing yourself too hard?"

He surprises you with this question, but you promptly answer it. "If I was, I would’ve been able to land all my moves correctly. If anything I’m not pushing myself hard enough."

You can’t look at his face just to see the disappointment at your failure, but when you feel his hand on yours you force yourself to look into his eyes, and, to your surprise, there's no hint of disappointment.

"You know, sweetheart, I do mean it when I say you’re just like me. And there is nothing more heartbreaking to me than looking at you and seeing the same self-destructive tendencies I have reflected on you." he wipes a tear you hadn’t realized was falling from your cheek and keeps going. "I hate that I passed that on to you. I should’ve been more careful with you. I thought that letting you know I was proud was enough, unlike my dad, but maybe I should’ve been more specific."

"What do you mean?" you ask, sniffling a bit.

"I’m not proud of you because you always come first in competitions, or because you get the highest grades. I’m proud of you because I know you always try your best and put all of yourself into everything you do. That’s what being a Stark is all about. Plus you’re my daughter so let’s be honest, I’d love you to death even if you were a high school dropout who deals fake drugs to college kids."

You laughed while drying your tears, grateful for your father’s inability to stay serious for too long.

You hug him and say "Thanks, dad. I needed that more than I thought."

You let go of him and tell him about the real reason you couldn’t concentrate: the long-haired asshole with eyes so blue you felt like you were flying in the sky while looking at them, and like you were drowning the second he opened his mouth to say shit about you.

Of course you didn’t put it on those exact terms, but your dad was pretty good at reading between the lines.

By the end he had a smirk that made you want to legally change your name and run away because you just know he’s never going to let you live this down.

"Well, sounds like he’s really something." that’s all he says, weirdly. You eye him suspiciously but he doesn’t add to his sentence.

In fact, he doesn’t say anything more about it until he’s helped you get comfortable on your bed back home.

"You know…" he starts "little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on the playground to get their attention, because they don’t know what else to do." he says.

"Yeah, boys are stupid, so what?" you deadpan and he laughs then surprisingly says "Exactly. Maybe you’re not the only one that feels something here. Maybe there’s a stupid boy that can’t take his eyes off of you, but doesn’t know how to get your attention other than criticize you." he says, clearly happy with where he ended.

"Is this your long way of saying that you think Bucky likes me the same way I like him?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"This is my long way of saying don’t be a stubborn Stark and try actually talking to him about this. You’d be surprised how fast stupid boys grow up just to keep the girl they want. Just ask your mother." and with that he leaves with a wink, leaving you wondering how much more immature Tony Stark could’ve been to have to grow up enough to sweep Pepper Potts off her feet.

You spend the next few days as a little ball of anxiety on your bed, not being able to do much but overthink about Bucky, only getting a break when Scott came to keep you company.

The day before the competition you've enough and convince Scott to drive you to the ice rink, knowing Bucky was probably there.

When you get there you can hear music but you don’t think much of it until you get right in front of the door and realize it was the song you and Bucky chose. Frowning, you open the door and what you see makes your jaw drop.

There they are, Bucky and Natasha, doing your routine.

You don’t know when you got closer to the rink, but you cannot take your eyes off of them, that is until you hear someone beside you say "they’re good, aren’t they?"

You turn your head to see Sam and Steve, the latter looking at you in a knowing way that almost seems apologetic of Sam’s words, the effect of which Sam doesn’t seem to notice.

You always felt like Steve could see right through you when it came to Bucky, always looking at you like he knew exactly how you felt and how much his words hurt you.

Seemingly reading all the questions swimming in your mind right now, Steve offers you some answers.

"Natasha came back early from her vacation. He brought her up to speed and she agreed to help him out. They’ve been practicing non-stop everyday since the day after you got hurt." Feeling like you have enough information, you turn back to the ice.

You watch them work in sync, almost like they're connected by wires and one can’t move without taking the other with them.

You watch as Bucky picks up Nat effortlessly and throws her like she's made of air. You watch as she moves so gracefully that it's almost surreal. You see her land every jump perfectly.

Again. And again. And again.

Every jump, every twist, every second you watch them something inside you brokes more.

You don’t know why, Natasha has been Bucky’s partner countless times before and it never mattered to you, and you’ve only skated with him for less than four months.

Maybe it was the fact that they're using the routing you and Bucky had come up with together, maybe you feel replaced.

Maybe it was the fact that you were coming here to talk to Bucky about your feelings and now you were seeing him flying around the ice rink as close with another girl as he was with you, maybe even closer.

They finish the routine and you can hear Bucky’s laughter, you can see his smile as he tells Natasha how perfect she was, how impressed he is at how fast she picked up everything, how glad he is that she showed up when she did.

Then it hits you.

Of course he’s glad she showed up. He never wanted to do this with you, you weren’t even a second choice, it took literally every other girl he knows to be unavailable for him to even think to ask you.

Why wouldn’t he be happy to have her back? He certainly never acted like this with you. He never laughed, barely even smiled...

He didn’t choose you, he got stuck with you.

Suddenly, it’s like everything he’s ever done, everything he’s ever said to you comes crashing down on you all at once.

It’s like you can actually hear your heart breaking and there’s only one thought on your mind: He likes Natasha.

It makes sense, the first day you met he seemed into you, right up until he saw her and the second he turned around he was done with you.

Maybe he started to be an ass just to make that clear, not wanting to actually say anything. After all, he always was very nice to Nat. To everyone but you really.

And it’s not like you could blame him, Natasha’s always been better than you. Growing up she was always your only competition, it’s a fortune you ended up friends really, considering how easy it could’ve been for you to hate each other.

She’s the reason you spent so much time trying to be better, and you’d like to say it was the same for her, but you doubt it very much.

She’s always been prettier, thinner, stronger, smarter, better with boys and at making friends. She was the obvious choice.

Of course she was Bucky’s choice.

You didn’t realize you were so deep in your thoughts, or that you were still staring at them, until you feel a hand on your shoulder and hear Sam’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

You look at Steve and Sam and all you want to do is get out of here. It was already a miracle you weren’t already crying.

Without saying a word you turn around and walk away as fast as you can with the damn stump on your foot. You aren’t fast enough though, because halfway to the door you hear Bucky’s voice, much too close to you to your liking, calling your name.

For a second you think you hear something seeming happiness in his voice, but quickly dismiss the idea and try to keep going, but then you feel his hand on your wrist turning you around to face him.

His face seems to instantly fall as he looks at you and all you can think about is how sick you are of being the only one that takes his smile away.

"What’s wrong?" he asks in a weirdly soft tone, but you can’t find the voice to answer him.

You two just stare at each other until you hear someone clear their throat behind Bucky, and you look over his shoulder just as Natasha starts talking.

"Hi, Stark. Heard what happened to you." she nods towards your foot "Sorry I haven’t been to visit you, we’ve been pretty busy."

You don’t look at her while you answer, turning your eyes back to Bucky, who’s still holding your wrist, while you say "I can see that. Don’t worry, Romanoff, I’m just glad Barnes finally has a partner that’s not incompetent."

All he does is stare confusedly at you, which makes you angry enough to yank your hand away from him, turn around and walk away, ignoring the calls of your name behind you.

You miss the sadness on Bucky’s face, or the way he questions Sam and Steve about everything you said and did since the second you entered.

Bucky, on the other hand, did not miss the tears starting to fall down your cheeks as you turn away.

You decide not to go to the competition the following day. It would be the first time you voluntarily miss one of Nat’s competitions, but you don’t feel like having a replay of yesterday’s show when it’s already been on replay in your mind all night.

Your absence doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends. Nat and Steve being the only ones that understand, even though they’re not very happy about it.

Another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by the group is how much more agitated than normal Bucky seems to be.

Even during competitions, he’s usually very calm, but today the only thing that makes him stop pacing around the room is Natasha’s sharp ‘would you sit down’ that makes him sigh and sit next to her on the bleachers where they’re waiting for their turn.

He can’t seem to keep his body still as he starts to bounce his leg up and down out of nerves, and can’t seem to stop even when the redhead gets up abruptly with an exasperated ‘for the love of god’ and goes to sit further from him and near Sam, exchanging seats with Steve, who puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, effectively bringing out of his head and making his body still with another sigh.

"You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to." Steve tells his anxious friend.

"You know I have to Steve. Otherwise Fury won't let me do other couples competitions."

"I know, but the whole reason you started doing them was for the chance to pair up with Y/N, which never even happened until now." Steve points out while frowning.

"I’m not the one that chooses the pairs, Rogers, it’s always Fury. He’s the whole reason Romanoff and I worked so hard this week just so she could do this. Plus Y/N’s never been interested in these competitions so this whole idea was just stupid to begin with. Now after I finally convince her, she gets hurt and thinks I think she’s incompetent, for some reason." Bucky hasn't been able to stop thinking about what you said yesterday.

Why would you ever think he thinks you're incompetent? He knows he's been a dick to you for years, but never has he ever said you were incompetent.

It's really just constructive criticism given in a poor way. A very poor way... Yeah, he really just has himself to blame for the way you feel about him now, he knows it.

He doesn't even really have a justification for it, either. If he's being honest with himself, he's intimidated by you.

The first time he saw you he thought you were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, you were so graceful on skates and looked like you were exactly where you belong, lost in your own little world.

Then when Natasha said your name, he realized who he was talking to: the daughter of one of the richest families in town.

He'd heard a lot about you and your family, your impressive achievements on and off the ice. He's ashamed to say he felt small all of a sudden, knowing just from hearing about you that he'd never be good enough for you.

Still, he couldn't help but be drawn to you, couldn't help but watch you as much as he could get away with, but the only way he could justify that without being seen as a creep was to criticize what you did. It made sense, right?

Bucky is pulled from his thoughts, again, by Steve’s voice.

"Well, you were basically yelling that at her when she got hurt last week." at his words Bucky's just as confused as he was yesterday when you stormed out.

"I didn’t…" then it hits him. "I wasn’t talking about her! I was talking about Scott because he wouldn’t hurry up!"

"Oh. Listen, buddy, we both know you like her. You fucked up, big time, and it’s gonna take a lot to get her to forgive you. You could start by stop being an ass to her and apologize." Bucky knows the blonde is right.

It will take a miracle just to get you to look in his direction, let alone allow him to apologize, but he has to at least try to make things right.

He stands up suddenly, startling Steve, and says, "you were there for all our rehearsals, right? You know the routine?"

Steve is confused, but answers with a slow "yeah, why?" but Bucky gives no further explanation, too busy picking up all his stuff.

When Steve puts together what his friend is hinting at, he quickly says "I didn’t mean right now!"

"No time like the present! Go change." he says, nudging Steve toward the changing rooms.

"Buck, if you go now Fury’s gonna kill you!"

"I don’t care!" he yells, basically running out the door and ignoring Natasha yelling his name, the only thing on his mind being running to you as fast as he could.

Every thought in his head, though, is instantly forgotten as he comes to a sudden stop at the top of the stairs outside of the rink.

There, at the bottom, is you, looking just as shocked at seeing him there as he feels.

After a few moments of just looking at each other, you can’t take it anymore and decide to break the silence. "I didn’t know if I should come in. Didn’t know if Nat wanted my support after I was so rude, you know."

When he doesn’t say anything and just stares at you, you feel the need to keep going.

"What are you doing out here? Did I miss your turn? How did it go?" that seems to snap him out of it and he starts to move towards you, still not saying anything and making you even more nervous as you start regretting coming here.

When he comes face to face with you, finally, he speaks. "I was gonna come looking for you." your brows furrowed in confusion.

"why?"

"I have owed you an apology for a long time now. I’m sorry for being a dick to you for all these years… it really wasn’t about you. I just felt insecure and acted out about it, and eventually I felt so used to it I couldn’t help it..."

You were shocked to say the least, this was the last thing you were expecting tonight. "You felt insecure? Why?"

"Because you’re you!" he almost yelled, gesturing to your whole body and startling you a bit. "I mean you’re a Stark, you’re kind of a legend who lives up to the legend. You’re smart and talented and confident and beautiful. I never thought I’d be good enough for you... I still don’t."

You don't know what to say, but you aren't running for the hills so Bucky keeps talking. "I’d also like to make it clear that I’ve never called you incompetent. I was talking about Lang, that idiot took ages to get his keys to drive you to the hospital. I didn’t even realize you might’ve heard me until Steve pointed it out to me just now while we were waiting our turn and I just had to find you and tell you."

Once everything he said actually registered in your brain, the words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. "Wait, you left the competition to come find me? Natasha’s gonna kill you!"

He chuckles a little while saying, "I’d be more worried about Fury."

"Fury?" You're confused again. "Why would you be worried about Fury?"

"He’s gonna be pissed that I left. He’s the whole reason Romanoff and I trained so hard to make it here, I wanted to skip it after you got hurt, but he said if I did he wouldn’t let me do any more pairs."

"I thought this competition was important to you, that’s the whole reason I said yes. And you wanted to quit it?" You're more confused than ever.

"It was important because it was my chance to finally spend time with you." he says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I’d rather not do our routine at all if I can’t do it with you." he adds, shrugging.

"really?" you can’t help but smile at hearing him say ‘our routine’ "But you and Nat work much better than you and I do."

"perphabs, but I still think you’re the best there is. Even when it’s with me, a person you hate." He says the last part while looking at his feet, almost afraid of saying it aloud and perfectly aware that he’s the reason why.

"I don’t hate you." you say, almost too fast.

His eyes snap back up to yours. "You don’t? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’d hate me if I were you."

"Sure, I don’t always love the things you say about my skills, but you’ll never criticize me more than I criticize myself. Mostly, you’re just a distraction." you say shrugging, not fully realizing what you just confessed.

"I distract you?" he says with a smug smirk that kind of makes you want to punch him, bringing his hand to your cheek.

You groan but let him keep it there, loving the feeling of his warm hand against your skin. "Don’t get cocky with me, Barnes."

He laughs, but doesn’t say anything else waiting for you to elaborate with an expectant look.

"Fine." you sigh. "Yes, you distract me. You might be a jerk, but I can’t concentrate when I’m around you. All I can think about is the sound of your voice, and the way you smell and the color of your stupid pretty eyes... I can’t help but like you, no matter how much of an asshole you are to me, for reasons I’m sure have something to do with my father."

He laughs again at your last sentence and you swear you’d never heard a better sound. "So I guess I should be thankful for you daddy issues, huh." he says making you laugh with him.

"Yeah, you very much should be." you put your arms around his neck when his hand drops from your face and his arms wrap around your waist.

"You distract me too, you know. Everytime you’re in the room you’re all I can see..." He sighs. "I’ll never apologize enough for all the things I said to you, but let me try. Let me take you on a date, for starters."

You pretend to think about it all of two seconds before you’re nodding with a smile, so he adds, "What about right now?"

"Slow down there, Romeo, why don’t we go cheer on our friends first." you giggle at his pout while you take his hand and lead the way inside.

When you take a seat next to Sam, just in time to hear the announcement of Natasha and Steve’s names, there's no wiping the smile off of Bucky’s face. His arm goes immediately around your shoulders to bring you closer as you greet Sam that had a knowing grin of his own.

You watch your friends go through the routine perfectly, to your joy and surprise. You really are proud of them, and you make sure to tell them when they are close enough to the edge of the ice while waiting for their score.

"Maybe after we can all go out to eat something." Steve suggests, still slightly out of breath.

"I’m sorry, punk. I have a date that I’m not missing for anything in the world." Bucky answers without taking his eyes away from you, his smile seared onto his face.

Steve chuckles at how whipped his friend already seems to be, moving closer to the judges with Nat when it was time for their scores.

Second place, not bad for a last minute thing.

As you cheer for your friends while they're given their medals, Bucky leans down and whispers in your ear "we would’ve come first."

You burst laughing and Bucky known in this exact moment that he would do anything to hear that sweet sound for the rest of his life.

You look up at him and raise your voice just enough for him to hear over all the screaming, with a smile big enough to match his "We totally would’ve."

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morningstargirl666 · 1 month ago

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hie!! obsessed with your fic and while (patiently) waiting for updates, i have THE biggest craving for fics with the same vibes as your fic & The Wolf by yokan. for instance, fics with caroline in NOLA with lots of mikaelson family dynamics and just her being around them or being considered as a part of their family. i'm lowkey a sucker for found-family kinda tropes if its not obvious lol.

i haven't read alot of kc fics yet so honestly just hit me with any fic!! popular or underrated everything works since i'm technically very new in the fandom! :D

thankyou for the recs in advance!!

Thanks so much! Specifically NOLA fics:

Blood and a Quick Murder (and isn't that how it always is) by KS_Caster

After a magical accident turns Caroline into a human, she discovers that her values don't match up with her friends' like she thought they did. She discovers that some choices are permanent - and some aren't. Oneshot - complete.

Whisper To Help Me Remeber by LaLainaJ

Put down by Tristan Klaus waits. And plans. Once awakened he's thrilled to set out and get revenge. A wrinkle forms when he hears news of Caroline, and is told that she's been working for his enemies. Klaus is determined to find out why, and soon learns that something is not quite right with her. He'll fix it, whatever it takes. Uses TO characters but ignores most TO canon.

Like The Sun Shines by LaLainaJ

"Klaus finds himself blinking down at his phone for an embarrassingly long length of time while he filters his brother's usual nonsense and the pertinent information sinks into his brain. Caroline is in New Orleans." It's an average Wednesday in NOLA until it isn't.

Fallen by klarolineepiclove

Caroline Forbes was a woman with a secret. Running from a shattered past, she settles in New Orleans, determined to disappear in the crowds and chaos. When her path continually crosses with the Mikaelson family, her plans go awry. When she finds herself drawn to the charasmatic Klaus, she begins to wonder: How far can you run before the past catches up with you? AU/AH Klaroline

Break Your Promise by Fearfrost

"What can I do?" He breathed. He knew in that moment listening to her fall apart hundreds of miles away he'd do anything she asked. "Break your promise."

Wicked Schemes by willowaus

Old family secrets lead Caroline on a journey of self-discovery and into the dark underbelly of New Orleans as Klaus works to reclaim his kingdom and rebuild the family he's slowly destroyed over the centuries. A TVD/The Originals crossover.

Someone's First Choice by unpublishednovelist

How many times can Tyler put their relationship on hold, ignoring her calls and hiding in the mountains of Appalachia, before Caroline finally snaps? He's pushing her away. Who could blame her for being pushed to something else? Someone else --- A rewrite of the TVD S5E1 scene where Tyler leaves Caroline yet another stupid message about how she's not the most important thing in his life.

throw roses into the abyss by marxandangels

Throw roses into the abyss and say: Here is my thanks to the monster who didn’t succeed in swallowing me alive. Caroline goes to see Klaus in New Orleans after her mom's death, humanity free. That choice changes her life from the foundations, every single brick of it --- I think that the whole humanity switch thing is the dumbest plot device in TVD, but also the most interesting. What is humanity, really? What are the edges of it? What would it /actually/ mean to be able to turn that on and off?

Not NOLA, but the Mikaelson family dynamics are off the charts:

not for him a watery grave by MyLadyElise

He's saved her life, more than once. Doesn't she owe him the same? An alliance, a rescue, a race against time. A possibility. Hope. AU after Season 3: Before Sunset.

Persistence of Memory by perfectpro

Caroline comes to New Orleans, nervous to see Klaus after their last argument. As it turns out, she doesn't need to worry about him being angry. He doesn't remember the argument. After all, how can he when he doesn't even remember who she is?

a vampire, a brother, and a pack of wolves walk into a bar by banazie

In which Kol angers a pack of wolves with moonlight rings, his girls’ night out with Caroline is ruined, and Klaus feels particularly dagger-y.

where the heart moves stones by darkness_shows_the_stars

Caroline’s planned college experience in New York, so far away from her magic-infested hometown, keeps getting interruped because the Originals have apparently decided that her dorm room is free game. Getting away from supernatural drama was so much easier in theory.

the fate makes for a lousy poet by darknes_shows_the_stars

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. --- Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

There's tons more. Search through my fic rec tag in my tumblr archive if you want more fic recs, or browse my AO3 bookmarks, I've answered a few asks like this one ✨

#klaroline #klaus x caroline #fanfiction #klaroline fanfiction #fic recs #klaroline fic recs #some of the ffnet ones are probably on ao3 as well I just don't have them bookmarked on there #i first read them back on ffnet #god those were the wild days #asks #anon asks #normally I'd tag writers as well but I'm so tired rn #my deepest apologies

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eggdrawsthings · 3 months ago

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Hi! I wanted to ask a question and I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or not so just ignore this is you’d rather not answer, but I was wondering if you went to art school or got a degree in it? I really want to start learning and maybe one day start a career in animation and wasn’t sure whether I should spend time and resources getting a degree. I know it’s going to be different for everybody and nothings a guarantee for this field but since I love your style and technical skill I was curious whether you had done that and what were your thoughts on it or if you are self-taught.

Hey anon! No worries it's all good!

Ig I should quickly go through my art journey so you can have an overall look of why I went to art school lol.

So I'm from Vietnam. I think back in 2013 I went to a small art school in Singapore (they were the only one that gave me a scholarship). My major was 3D modeling actually, but during my final year, I realized I only wanted to draw characters for animation. I could already draw decently, so I just read The Silver Way book and built a character design portfolio on my own during this time. I was lucky I got a job as a concept artist at a small animation studio there so I learned a lot from the job. I also did a lot of self-learning and took Woulter Tulp's Expressive Character class on Schoolism.

Then after 3-ish years of working, I got sick of the tiny and dying animation industry in Singapore. I wanna do sth more than just preschool shows and I was severely underpaid lmao. So I quit my job and took the MA VisDev program at AAU. It's a little more affordable cuz u can do 1 year online and the second year on-site. The reason I went to this school even tho i could just take a VisDev class online was cuz i need the visa so i can try to break into the industry in the US.

Now back to your question. Is art school a must? No. Should you still take it? Maybe, depends on your situation. If you can afford it then hell yeah by all means. Art school is great cuz you have professors and peers to help guide you along the way so you won't get lost while trying to figure out your shit. And to have a few years just experimenting and focusing on art is a great experience. Plus you can make a lot of meaningful connections in school and it will help you a long way after you grad. But if you have to go into debt to go to art school, then don't. There are places like Schoolism, CGMA, and Warrior Art Camp where you can pick what class and from whom you wanna learn. If you are not from the US and wanna break into the industry here like me however, then yeah getting a degree is a better bet cuz you can use the student visa and OPT to hopefully get a job here (it's still very very hard tho ngl im struggling rn as we speak lmao). Also, you need a BA to work overseas so there's that too. The hard truth is studios prefer to hire locally than some rando from somewhere else and have to wait for them to relocate and shit, (unless you are exceptionally good and they'd do anything to have you, but that is super rare lol).

Even though I did go to art school, I have to say most of my skills are from self-study. It requires a lot of self-discipline but I'm pretty much obsessed with drawing and I draw everyday so it's not a problem for me. But my friend is not good at that, so she found art school/classes helped her better cuz there are deadlines and instructors to help guide her to reach her goal. So it depends on your learning style tbh.

There is this chart that can help you consider your options. Im sorry it's a very long answer, cuz yes everyone's experience is different. Feel free to drop me another ask if you still have anymore questions tho ^^

Edit: I must also add, though there are online classes and ways to self-learn animation,I do think it only truly benefit you if you know exactly what you wanna do in this industry (for example I already knew i wanna become a character designer for 2d/3D animation specifically so any books/classes i took I tailored it to fit my goal). If you are unsure what you wanna do, then maybe even a cheap animation course will do better, and then you can take extra online classes on the side.

#yapping in hyperspace #Anonymous

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admirationandromantics · 11 days ago

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Here we go again

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

This is the third part of my "Here we go again"-series. Again, as a reminder, this was written a long time ago, and I haven't looked it quite over yet. This part is sadly also shorter than the others...

This is also a mean bully!Ellie x reader, so if you're not into that, you're free to skip. (The whole series is this as well as 18+)

Thank you for reading <3

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

As I'm collecting myself, I can't help but keep sitting on the floor, my back against the wall and unable to stand. My head lifts and I stare at the ceiling. I breathe. In and out. Air in for four seconds, hold seven, out eight. I fail to hold my breath the first two times, but keep going until I find a rhythm. When i close my eyes, i can still feel pressure on my lips, hands over my body. When will I have the will to end it?

New day, new possibilities. My headache had faded after taking a couple of pills, and I managed to take the bus to the university to get some of my work done in the library. As I walk in the hallway, I hear loud whispers behind me, but right before I turn, a hand grabs my arm, preventing me. I`m met with a familiar face; Abby. Known as the strongest woman in our school, both on the basketball and volleyball teams. She has led them to victories for several years. At the moment, I believe she studies physical therapy, which I think fits her quite well.

“Hey Abby, did you need anything?” I question, still surprised by her sudden encounter.

She looks me up and down, but I can sense she’s unwell. Maybe a bit of angst. She doesn't remove her hand, but rather carefully release her grip, letting it slowly fall down my arm. It tickles, but not so much that I move away. For being such a strong and muscular being, she's touching me as if I'm porcelain.

“I was wondering if you and Ellie had something going on?” she asks, now moving her hand from my arm and behind her neck. I'm silent, shocked by the question before I feel cold where her hand touched me, and I can't help but look down at it, missing the touch. Normally a reaction like this could be blamed on me being touchstarved, but its fucking Abby Anderson. Who wouldn't have butterflies flying around their stomach. My mind wanders to the question she asked. Me and Ellie…

“Umm, no I don't suppose we do”. Technically not a lie, as I had said; it was the LAST time we would do something like that again. And she hated me, though I could imagine she would be infuriated by not being able to do anything she would want with me. However, how would we relieve all the built up tension?

“Is that a no?”

“What”

“You don't want to?”

Damnit, what did she ask?? I try to remember as I go over the last thing she asked me; me and Ellie, me and Ellie, fucking hell.

“I'm so sorry Abby, I completely zoned out. What were you asking?”. I could feel the warmth reaching my cheeks. God. How embarrassing. I'm such a bad person.

“Well-” she coughs. “If you guys are not a thing, I was wondering if I could take you out?”.

Abby Anderson was asking me out. Omg. My inner high-school-girl screams in my head.

“Of course, that would be great”.

She reaches out her arm, and I struggle with the zipper on my pencil case before getting it open and pulling out a pen. I write my number on her arm. Her big, strong arm. Just touching it feels illegal, like I'm messing with something that could only bring trouble. We say our goodbyes, and as I'm walking down the hallway, I spot Ellie with Dina and Jesse. She's staring at me, her eyes digging into mine, darkening. Just from the look, I know she saw everything. I don't feel guilty. She bites her lip, so little that I almost can't see it. I smile smugly, as I walk confidently past her. Dina is the one who runs after me.

“Girl, what was that?”

“What?” I ask, giving a smile since I know exactly what she’s talking about. She hits me in my arm.

“You know what I’m talking about”

“You have to say it out loud”

“Abby was talking to you, she never does. What did you talk about?”

“She asked me out”

“Oh lord”

“And I said yes”

“Oh lord”

She gives me a tight hug, jumping a bit. And I assure her that I have more classes and will tell her everything about the encounter when I get home.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #the last of us 2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou part 2 #ellie tlou #dina tlou #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou ellie #ellie williams college au #the last of us

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aroaceleovaldez · 8 months ago

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thoughts on leo valdez? headcdanons? i

[stares at own url] ...I'll give you one for free, lol

Aro/ace Leo.... listen. He explicitly states that he plays up his false persona in aspects that he feels are lacking in his actual personality in an effort to make people like him more, and in his POVs we get a lot of him doing acknowledged-as-nonserious joke-flirting as part of his false persona. Guy who doesn't realize he's aspec trying to overcompensate for his lack of attraction by excessively hitting on people to hide that he doesn't feel attraction towards anyone? Him wondering if he's broken in a whole bunch of ways and trying to make up for it externally while having an identity crisis about that? Something something metaphor about him wondering if cause he's a Hephaestus kid he's a little too much like a machine/robot and can't feel love or The Right Emotions In General™ because of that cause he doesn't know about aspec stuff yet (or that he's autistic)? Can anyone hear me.

Related to that: Leo landing on Ogygia (island of unreciprocated love) and meeting Calypso, who (probably through love magic) actually seems to be attracted to him? And him trying to force himself to reciprocate because he figures that's just how it's supposed to go and maybe for once he's actually experiencing romantic love? And he's so desperate for someone to like him and to feel useful to someone (re: 7th wheel)? But it fizzles out almost immediately after they leave the island, because the heart-eyes wear off for Calypso, especially once she technically no longer needs him, and Leo can't keep up trying to make himself reciprocate (and can't keep up trying to put his mask back up for her, especially now that Calypso seems to actually care about it). I am literally always thinking about this.

Short king,,, I don't care what anybody says he is NOT 5'6" that is way too tall for him. My guy is 5'5" absolute maximum. I usually place him at 5'3". Tiny guy. Made of pipecleaners. Built like Bilbo Baggins...

I've mentioned it before in a couple of places (i know [here] at least) but I did not like his fake-out death in BoO. Also I'm just mad about his dropped character arc(s) in general. My ideal substitute is that instead of dying and being revived, Festus just crashes in the woods nearby and Leo has overexerted his powers too much a la Nico's shadow stuff and is nearly dead but once they get him to the infirmary he recovers and can start working on recovering from his whole depression arc too. Also maybe he loses a leg in the crash so he can match his dad just for funsies, and so that there's some amount of consequence to his sacrifice to make up for him not dying (not like in canon there were any consequences to him dying and being revived anyways...). Also something something accidental Hiccup HTTYD joke. Leo with a prosthetic is always fun. More Hephaestus kids with prosthetics.

I am very amused by the concept of Leo never having any romantic attraction to Hazel at all, possibly even negative romantic attraction once he finds out she dated his great-grandpa (especially since in canon like 90% of his thoughts about Hazel are just kind of appreciative and genuinely thinking she's really cool, if a little confusing at first), and Hazel pretty quickly gets over her side of things once she gets used to the fact that this is Definitely Not Sammy, he just Looks Like Sammy (and does not actually act like Sammy, that's just a fake persona that is eerily similar by coincidence. Real Leo is actually quite reserved and not so much of a vocal goofball most of the time). So they're just besties after their mutual weird Sammy vision and understanding the deeper sides to each other and are each other's person they're most comfortable letting their guard down around cause they've formed that level of trust. Except Frank's over in the corner seething cause he thinks this is a love triangle but he's the only one who thinks that. Leo just thinks Frank hates him for the general reasons he thinks everybody hates him (which is just an assumption he's kind of used to and expects from people, so he does not question it at all). Hazel knows Frank thinks Leo is trying to steal her from him but she's having trouble trying to keep the two of them from nearly killing each other. It's a very homestuck auspistice dynamic.

Leo and Frank eventually work out their stuff and become very good friends to meeee... let them bond over their mutual fear of fire and dead mom trauma! they have so many parallels and I want the two of them and Hazel to be a funky cute little trio!

Dragonkin Leo! That boy is a dragon!!!! I usually say his stuff is kind of spiritual origin (he doesn't really know how to explain it other than his soul is just a dragon) versus like Jason being a wolf therian with a more psychological origin (being raised by an immortal wolf pack rubbed off on him) (rip Piper being the only non-alterhuman in their trio LMAO). I imagine whatever type of dragon he is probably is very similar to Festus, which is part of why Leo clicks with Festus so quickly - he just sees himself in Festus and it's very comforting to him. He definitely makes himself some fun 'kin gear, like a nice weighted tail and wings and claws to try and help his phantom shifts feel a lil less wonky. Also him having dragon talon weapons just sounds cool. He also totally makes gear for any other alterhuman demigods.

#pjo #riordanverse #leo valdez #headcanon #headcanons #ah0yh0y #ask #long post //#alterhuman demigods

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jccatstudios · 1 year ago

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SoC Comic Adaptation and General FAQ

General

Who are you?

Hi, I'm Claire (she/they)! I'm currently studying to become a professional comic creator. I love drawing fashion, expressive characters, and anti-hero action.

Where else can I find your work?

You can find all my work on my website! I'm also on Instagram, Twitter, and Tumblr. You can find my fan art under the handle jccatstudios, and my original art under jcscottart (only on Instagram and Twitter).

How can I support your work?

Besides supporting my work through your lovely comments and reblogs, you can help monetarily support me on Ko-Fi. Your support helps fund my college education.

Six of Crows: A Comic Adaptation

Why are you doing this?

Ever since I read the duology, I always thought it would make a great graphic novel series. When my professor encouraged me to start a webcomic, I took the opportunity to make the comic I imagined into reality. I want to see the whole series illustrated through comics one day. If I got the chance to make the official adaptation, that would be one of my biggest dream projects. I'm also using this project as an opportunity to improve my skills before I graduate.

Will you post it on (insert webcomic platform)?

Probably not. Most online comic platforms are meant for scroll format, and I'm making a traditional format comic. Plus, I post on so many sites already, so I think adding another would take too much time out of actually creating the comic.

Will you draw the whole book/series?

I wish I could! Since I'm not doing this full-time or professionally, that's quite unlikely. It would take years to complete it full-time, who knows how long as a hobby. I'd love to add a six-volume SoC graphic novel series to my shelf, but that of course can't be done without some serious backing. I'm currently working on adapting Chapter 3.

Where's Chapter 1: Joost?

I never drew it! I started with Chapter 2: Inej because I wanted to draw the main characters first. The first chapter of the comic is the second chapter of the book. I name the comic chapters after the book chapters just to make it clear which part of the book they correspond to.

Can I repost your art, use your art for layouts/edits, etc?

Yes, you may with visible credit. If you use it for your profile layout, put my handle in your bio. If you're reposting it or using my art for edits/collages, put my handle in the description. As long as it's for personal use, you can use my art. Do not sell copies of my art, use it in merch, or use it for any sort of monetary gain. Do not use my art for prompting or generating images.

Can I use your character designs and headcanons in fanart, fanfic, etc?

Absolutely! Please tag me if you do. I don't need credit since I didn't create any of these characters, but I definitely want to see what you create. :D

How do you make the comic?

The comic is made with mostly traditional methods with some digital editing. I pencil and ink all of the pages on bristol board. I mainly use the G-pen nib for characters and technical pens for the backgrounds. Once I scan the pages, I do light adjustments to the line art and correct any mistakes. The gray tones come from a single sheet of ink wash adjusted to be lighter or darker. The bubbles and lettering are all digital.

If anything else comes up, I'll add it here! Feel free to send me an ask if you have a question that isn't on this post.

#faq #soc comic adaptation

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berylcups · 3 months ago

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I don't know if you take requests like this but I'm interested in your general headcanons for La Squadra — if you have any! I like the way you portray them :)

Aw, thank you very much! I’m glad you enjoy my interpretations of everyone’s favorite blorbos! 💜

La Squadra General Head Canons

CW: blood mention, death mention, grief, alcohol, weed, transphobia, child mental abuse mention, bullying, sex work, toxic masculinity, internalized homophobia?(im gonna add it just to be safe even though it’s used as a joke by an LGBTQIA+ person…a trigger is still a trigger)

Notes: This is technically number 3 on my list but I'm submitting this one first since it got finished first! I hope this will satisfy your appetite while I continue to work on the earlier asks in order! If anyone wants a deep dive in-depth general HC list of any specific character feel free to send in an ask! 🥰excluding Melone of course... there's already one done of him!(that doesn't include other genres, yandere, romantic, etc. Mel HCs are still on the table!) Hope you all enjoy! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

1- He has PTSD and lingering symptoms of grief. This developed after his cousin died. He has conversations in his head with his dead cousin when he feels lonely or stressed.

2- The smell of blood gives him the same response as cuteness aggression. He needs to cuddle and squeeze the life out of something when he smells that iron-y goodness.

3-He's into leatherwork and knows how to skin an animal. He would help his grandparents in Sicily kill and skin the cattle. Blood and viscera are a common thing in his life.

4. He refuses to drink alcohol. He can’t stomach it knowing that it’s what caused the driver to murder his cousin. He opts for marijuana instead. It's really therapeutic for his PTSD. Formaggio, Pesci, and Melone are the best guys to smoke with. They always know how to show Ris a good time!

5- He doesn’t play favorites when it comes to his men. But only Formaggio knows how to make him laugh. He also has a soft spot for Sorbet and Gelato since they were the first men in his group. He cares for all his men equally, no exceptions.

Formaggio

1- He’s a 30 year old man who’s half Spanish and half Italian. He was born and raised in Firenze. He’s proud of his colorful family roots but he’s always going to cheer on Italy when he’s watching football!

2- Crazy cat man. This guy has five cats and they all are named after cheeses. And they are all orange cats. That grey one you saw in the bottle? You didn’t see shit. There was no grey cats being abused put into bottles. No you can’t change my mind. 😤 There’s Brie, Asiago, Colby, Fontina, and Queso.

3- always says “where’s my hug at??”. Also says “no homo” before doing anything that might be suggestive. This man is bisexual. 🤦‍♀️🤦 saying that doesn’t make it any less queer my Bi- King 👑 he’s the best hugger, 2nd is Pesci, and 3rd is Risotto.

4- This man is the hairiest in the group. He's always trimming his hair and shaving his chest and happy trail. If he doesn't shave he'll end up with a full beard and mustache, full chest of hair connected to his happy trail. The only thing he doesn't shave are his arms, pits, and legs and they are ridiculously hairy. 😬

5- Illuso is actually his best friend. Shocking? I know. They’re very competitive and sadistic hitmen. They always try to outdo each other on how gruesome and creatively they can take someone out. They both like to get drunk or high and watch football and wreck up the base.

Illuso

1- This prideful 28 year old is half Swiss German and Italian born and raised in Milano. His bad attitude came from always being compared to his younger brother. His little brother could do no wrong and Illuso always had to set a good example for him. The pressure got to him and just like Fugo he snapped but it turned bloody. His mom and younger brother are afraid of him and want nothing to do with him anymore and his father is sleeping 6 feet under.

2- He’s very sensitive and has rejection sensitivity dysphoria. As a child he was a big crybaby and his dad always scolded him to “man up” and fight back when he’s being bullied. It wasn’t until Secondary school where he started fighting back and becoming a bully himself. Now it’s all second nature to him. He puts up a façade of being an unpleasant person to hide his weaknesses.

3- He’s an avid artist who loves working with charcoal and graphite. His still lifes, landscapes, and portraits are near photorealistic. If his name didn’t give it away, he loves illustrating reflective surfaces the most. He wants his own studio where he can display his work. He doesn’t want to show off his work to others though. He’s very sensitive about his art pieces. He only does it for his own self satisfaction. He does want to be able to share this with a special someone though if he were able to find someone that he didn’t scare off.

4- He was born with Man in the Mirror. He used to use the mirror realm to hide and cry so he wouldn’t get made fun of by other kids or get yelled at by his dad for being “weak”. He obviously now uses it to store dead bodies and uses it as a safe place to attack people.

5- He was very sheltered as a child. The first time he saw masculine genitals besides his own was he went to Galleria dell’Accademia di Firenze with his parents seeing Michel Di Angelo’s David. He embarrassed them by loudly asking his father “papà why is his pìpì so tiny???” 😳

Pesci

1- He’s the youngest member at 19 years old. He’s from Sardinia.

2- Pesci has a mild form of Klippel-Feil syndrome. This doesn’t affect his self esteem. He’s actually pretty content with his body image! He just wishes he had more mobility with his neck. He does worry about passing that specific gene down to his potential children so he’s going to avoid having them. He fears his children will get bullied and not be able to develop a thick skin like he does. 😢 maybe his future s/o can help change his mind about that? 🥹

3- He’s a farm to table type of man. He fishes for his meal, cleans and debones , and cooks it to perfection. He knows how to prepare anything that lived in the water. Even the poisonous Fugu. But he doesn’t trust his skills enough to serve you that though! …unless you’re the boss. 😈

4- When he’s fed up with Prosciuttos harsh treatment, he’ll mock/impersonate him behind his back with Formaggio. 😅 his voice could use some work but he has the cadence and body language on point!

5- Coffee, tea, Cigs, energy drinks, or anything that is a stimulant will give poor Pesci the insta-shits. 💩 his tummy is DYING. Give him the entire toilet roll he’s gonna be in the bathroom allllll day. 😭 give him dairy, spicy, greasy, or anything else that’s irritating to the bowels. He can handle it like a CHAMP. Just no go-go juice.

Prosciutto

1- He’s a 26 year old Roman man. He’s a bastard child who never knew his father. He’s the oldest out of his 6 half siblings. His mother was a sex worker and a single mom so she always had to rely on her eldest Son Prosciutto to take care of his siblings. He never had a real childhood and had to grow up fast. This explains the aging nature of his stand and his stern attitude.

2- He sort of followed in his mother’s footsteps by sleeping with tourists and robbing them blind which is how he was able to get so much designer clothes and jewelry. Don’t ever bring up the part of his life before Passione, unless you have a death wish. He’s very ashamed of his past.

3- He has a hobby of winemaking and tasting. His dream is to have a villa in the countryside and have his own vineyard where he can make, drink, and sell his own wine .

4- He’ll take this secret to his grave but he has a mild phobia of taxidermy animals and embalmed corpses. Something that looks so life like yet is completely dead never to walk again really unnerves him. He doesn’t enjoy seeing things decay either. He finds it very unpleasant, but at least he’s aware that they are no longer among the living.

5- He’s a huge technophobe. Outside using his cellphone for calls and laptop for emails, he does NOT want anything to do with technology. Don’t come to his house and expect to Netflix and chill. You’re gonna gramophone and whoopie LMAO 😭. He likes old stuff because it “lasts longer “ totally not because he doesn’t know how to use anything. 🥲 he thinks video games are a waste of time and gets on the guys for playing them…they completely ignore him. 😂

Melone

I did a deep dive on this fella already click the link below to see it!⬇

Ghiaccio

1- He’s a proud 23 year old Venetian. He was born AFAB and became his authentic self as a trans man. Only Melone knows Ghiaccio before he became his authentic self. He's very supportive of him and refuses to deadname him or even speak about his life beforehand. If you mention anything about it you might get beaten up by Melone first before Ghiaccio gets a chance to scream at you. They bicker alot but they are close friends.

2- He got kicked out of multiple schools for beating the living shit out of his bullies for making fun of his nerdiness and LGBTQIA status. He eventually dropped out and joined passione.

3. He has a hobby for sports. He loves competitive swimming, hockey and ice skating the most. He wanted to go to the Olympics for it but transphobia prevented him from competing. (You can see why he might have an anger problem…)

4- Ghiaccio can see without his glasses. He just has severe astigmatism and gets headaches if he stares at the screen too long without them.

5- He has level 1 autism. He’s grumpy but sociable. He becomes awkward when you’re genuinely nice to him. He's not used to not having arguments and having an actual cordial conversation with someone. You can help him get used to that! He’s very sensitive to textures when it comes to clothes or food. Loud noises don’t bother him but certain noises do (pens clicking, fluorescent lights humming, mouth noises, high pitched whining like police or ambulance sirens, etc)

#jjba #jjba part 5 #la squadra #minors dni #jjba risotto #jjba formaggio #jjba illuso #jjba pesci #jjba prosciutto #jjba ghiaccio

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melanieph321 · 10 months ago

Text

Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 1/15

Yeah, y'all ain't ready.

Don't even think you're ready cuz you're not.

Part 2 and 3 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

"Y/N!"

It was six in the morning and Trent was already shouting.

"Y/N!"

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and smothering it against your ears. His footsteps emerged from down the hall and just like when you were kids, he had no respect for your privacy.

"Y/N, did you take my....."

He yanked the door open to the sight of you pretending to be asleep. He gasped, seeing you wear his Liverpool knee socks.

"I knew it, you fucking..."

Or to you they were knee socks, perfect for sleeping in.

"Hey?"

You twisted in bed, kicking your feet as you were suddenly being attacked.

"Aha. I knew you were bluffing." Trent exclaimed, and continued yanking the socks off your feet. "How about you buy your own clothes rather than stealing mine?"

"Why would I do that when you wear the same size as a girl?"

Trent got the socks off your feet, however your words made his cheeks grow red.

"How about you stop treating my closet like a fucking shopping mall you homeless parasite!" He stormed out of the room to the sound of your laughter. You had definitely struck a nerve.

"Technically, I'm not homeless. I'm job hunting." You said, after getting out of bed, entering the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. Trent was washing the dishes, using the running water as an excuse to ignore you.

"I promise to be out of here once I get a job."

"And when will that be?" He muttered, shutting off the water. "You can't be job hunting for five years Y/N. How about we call it for what it is."

"Which is?"

His smile was spiteful. "Unemployment."

You pout your lips. "You're very mean whenever you have a game coming up, did you know that?"

He rolled his eyes, setting up the plates to dry. You watched him gather his things, getting ready to leave for the day. His team had a light training session ahead of their game tonight.

"Grandma will be at the train station at twelve." He informed. "Are you picking her up or should I give mom and dad a call, tell them to do it?"

"I'll do it." You nodded.

"Cool thanks."

"In one condition...."

He had turned around, reaching for the door handle. He sighed having to face you again, knowing damn well that whatever was about to come out of your mouth was not going to be to his benefit.

"What?"

"I'm going to need the keys to the Bentley."

"For what? To pick up Granny?"

You shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

Trent muttered under his breath, reaching for the keys in his pocket. It was amusing, seeing him give in so easily. The perks of being two minutes older than him. Technically you were twins, but on paper you were also his big sister.

He tossed you the keys.

"Have a nice day." You smiled.

He ignored you, slamming the door on his way out.

The silence that followed was soothing. Outside the sun was shining and you could simply feel it, the start of a wonderful day.

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

"Grandma please, we're gonna be late. You don't need another Chanel bag."

You had spent all day tending to her needs. When the time came, getting your high maintenance grandmother to the football stadium was nearly impossible.

"You're late." Your patients said, stating the obvious as the two of you arrived at Anfield.

"Well, blame Grandma. She forgot to pack her scarf so we got her a new one, but of course the whole day then turned into a shopping spree."

Grandma was a retired seamstress, who still tended to a few shops where she lived in Manchester. Nevertheless fashion was her passion, some of it having rubbed off on you, however not as much that would make you run late to an inter-city football derby.

"How is Trent doing?" You asked, searching for him out on the pitch. You spotted him in seconds, enjoying the fact that he looked cooked already. The game had only been running for twenty five minutes.

"Manchester City looks to be a real challenge this year." Your dad said.

"Good." You muttered.

Ever since you were a kid you had the habit of rooting for whichever team that Trent wasn't rooting for, especially if the game was shown on the TV, and his team was losing. Liverpool seemed to be losing big today. Their coach was seen gesticulating vividly on the sidelines, shouting at the players to get their shit together.

"What's he doing?"

At some point a fight broke out and you were grinning at the fact that Trent was involved. They'd usually have him somewhere in the back, playing on the right side of the pitch, during this game however, he was seen running around in the middle getting into more trouble than he should.

"What's he doing, ref!!" Your dad stood up and shouted in protest, along with other fans in the stands. It looked to be some of the City boys giving Trent trouble after a fair but hard tackle that he made on one of the younger players on their team. There was one guy in particular that seemed to be all up in Trent's face, shouting at him, deliberately giving him shit. At one point Trent must have had enough because he ended up shoving the guy, to little effect however because the guy was huge and immovable. Nevertheless, it was all downhill from that, Trent ended up getting booked by the referee and his coach must have decided it would be best to send him off quite early into the second half of the match. It was safe to say that Trent wasn't happy when your family returned home.

"It was that dickhead Dias fault." He snapped, having slammed every door that he had stumbled upon on his way through the house to the living room.

"Please Trent, it's just a game." Your mother said, trying to calm him down.

"Yes but why was I the only one that got sent off? The referee didn't even bother to book any of the City players that came at me. You saw it, didn't you Dad?"

"I saw it son. We all did. It was complete bollocks."

You snorted.

Trent frowned. "What's so funny?"

You shrugged. "I dunno, maybe when you tried shoving that guy but ended up falling back yourself. That was pretty funny."

"Y/N." Your parents sighed. Grandma however, slapped her knee as her head tossed back with her laughter, fueling your own.

"Oh, so this is funny to you?" Trent stood, his expression trembling with rage. "How about I shove you and then let's see who's laughing."

"Trent!"

Your parents held him back, nevertheless you didn't even flinch. Everyone knew that out of the two of you Trent couldn't fight.

"Y/N, apologize to your brother. He's had a rough day." Your mother demanded.

"So? It's a part of life. Sometimes we get booked, sometimes we don't."

"You think you're so funny." Trent said, through gritted teeth. "Let's see who gets the last laugh."

A jolt of your heart. "You wouldn't."

He smirked. "Mom, Dad, Y/N has been lying to you about her internship in London."

"What do you mean?" They frowned. Even Grandma looked unsure.

"Trent." You warned him.

He ignored you.

"She's been unemployed for five years, crashing on people's couches. Her university friends must have gotten tired of her because she's been living with me for the past three months, eating my food, stealing my socks. She's never even offered to help pay rent.

"You didn't."

Trent was the only person in the room with a smile on his face, your parents on the other hand....

Part 2 and 3 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias x reader #football angst #ruben dias imagine #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold x reader

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