#been meaning/wanting to do some portraits
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i promise i'll do better (i will soften every edge)
zutara month, day 11: "mom and dad are fighting again", @zutaramonth
summary: kya interrupts an argument between katara and zuko.
warnings: reference to (implied) abuse/domestic violence, wrt to ozai's treatment of ursa.
other notes: lyrics from 'light' by sleeping at last. don't ask me how timelines work idk. yes there is a zutara daughter named kya here (separate entity from the lok kya.) she wears her hair in a southern water tribe braid and zuko calls her firecracker and it’s very cute. not really relevant but in this story i’m imagining she’s a nonbender.
“Katara, you know I agree with you.”
Across from him, she crosses her arms, and Zuko sighs. The throne room is empty, save for the two of them, and Zuko feels trapped, claustrophobic in the walls. They’ve made a point of opening up windows in the castle, letting light filter in, getting rid of old, haunting portraits, and making something new and beautiful together.
But the throne room doesn’t have windows to open. On a day like today, at times like these, it’s all too easy to remember the staunchly severe figures both his grandfather and father made here, walling themselves as they did behind high, towering fires.
Maybe they shouldn’t be having this talk here. It's too late now, but something to note for the future.
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“Of course I want to increase reparations soon,” he insists. “That’s the plan, and that’s always been the plan. But we have to be smart about this,” he tries to remind her. “We can’t do it all at once, or people will try to block—”
“Oh, so now you’re all about thinking things through! Those instincts could have served you well years ago, you know.”
Zuko closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. The words are biting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Things have been tense again in the Fire Nation lately. Better than ever before in some ways. Worse in others.
The first years after the war were a turbulent time in the Fire Nation—riots from those not happy with the changing of the old guard, strikes from workers contesting the need to pay reparations to the other nations, whispers of loyalists to the old regime plotting to get either Ozai or Azula back on the throne. A few assassination attempts, all handled efficiently but reason enough for concern.
Ten years past the end of the war, though, and things have started to stabilize. The plan has always been to increase reparations once the Fire Nation’s economy has improved, and Zuko intends to keep his word. But part of the system he’s trying to build means that there are representatives from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the other nations, and they each have their own agendas. It’s a tricky thing to navigate; he has to take all of their concerns seriously, of course, but also act according to his own principles. To live up to the promises he made years ago, and that he’ll continue to make for years to come.
Katara looks at him with a combative raise of her eyebrow.
It’s taken a strain on their relationship. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they’re both a little too good at lashing out, both a little too good at saying the thing that will hurt, even if they immediately regret it.
But usually, by the end of the day if not before, they can remember they’re on the same side, for all that their perspectives might differ.
“Can we pause?” Zuko asks of her, and her features soften. “Just—try to hear each other out? Katara, I understand…” but before he can finish, the large door to the throne room creaks, and Zuko watches as one of the serving maids guides their daughter into the room.
“See?” Kya points to them, eyes wide with alarm and lip quivering. “Mom and Dad are fighting again.”
Something in Zuko’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want her to worry about this. About them. He’d had to worry about his parents, to worry about his mother, Ozai looming over her, and sometimes Zuko was pretty sure he saw fear in her eyes where there should have been love, and then—
She’d been gone. And he’d drawn his own conclusions, quietly and with little reason to question them.
“She coudn’t sleep,” Hina says apologetically, and Zuko only waves a hand. “She was asking for you both.”
“Thank you for bringing her.”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Katara says, walking over and lifting Kya up onto her hip. “Things are just tense right now,” she says, with a guilty sideways look to Zuko, who smiles weakly. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.”
“Promise?”
Zuko walks over to join the huddle and places a kiss atop her dark hair, which is twisted in a braid. “Promise, little firecracker. Mom and Dad are just trying to figure out the right way to handle something.” He meets Katara’s eyes and tries to impress the sincerity of his words on her. “But we will figure it out. We always do.”
Katara smiles at him and uses the hand not keeping Kya secure on her hip to touch the small of Zuko’s back in a gentle gesture. The three of them stand huddled together, and for the first time in… weeks, probably, Zuko feels his body relax, just a little.
He smiles back, a little exhausted but a lot relieved—to have Katara with him, there to both challenge and support him, to have Kya with them, creative and funny and quick as a whip as she is, and at only age four. He’s glad to have his family.
They are okay. Right now, they are okay. Whatever else may come.
#zutaramonth2024#zutara month#zutaramonth#zutara#my fic#day 11: “mom and dad are fighting again”#trigger: abuse.#trigger: domestic violence.#jic. small references.#atla
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IWTV S2 Ep1 Musings - Looking for Home: Louis, Claudia & Daciana
They flip between siblings and parent so much even I was getting whiplash--no wonder Lou's confused. U_U
This was EEEEEEEEVIIIIIIL, AMC! 😭 Louis carrying Grace's wedding portrait, and using it to FAKE his identity in Europe, after Grace couldn't even go to Europe for her own honeymoon cuz Paul died--STOP IT! 😭😭
And you can hear just a few quick seconds of the DPDL lietmotif that always plays for Grace, Paul, and sibling!Claudia, before it takes this SUPER dark and ominous tone--the song has been tainted, just like Lou's relationship with Grace and Claudia was tainted.
Go AWF, Claudia!
And then she finds ONE, and it was so heartbreakingly touching.
I was hoping she was Alessandra, but nope, she's an AMC!OC, Daciana. I'm assuming they were nodding to one rando revenant:
And she is obviously the same "Anna" the kids were singing about--(very Gaunter O'Dimm of them, I love it 💀)--living like frikkin Baba Yaga in a grimy castle in the woods.
Daciana killed her own fledgling after Claudia blinded him--after the revanant AND Daciana attacked them first, but whatever. Cuz she said he wouldn't be able to hunt/feed with no eyes--so it can't heal; her fledglings are too effed up. She's officially the last one in the area.
And I get it now--the bear(?) head Claudia breaks off of the dead vampire's sarcophagus was a heraldric figurehead. Claudia showed it to Daciana, as a way of asking her who that dead vamp was.
She didn't want to tell them her story or hear theirs--but she wanted them to know about Cezare Romulo (RIP). (It's crazy how in 5 minutes The Vampire Daciana was way more effective than a whole hour of Dierdre Mayfair. 🙄😒) She complimented Claudia's blood, saying it tasted like the cream of the crop. Daciana only told them her name, and that she was waiting for her children--fledglings or real ones, who knows (I bet both).
Only for Daciana to kill herself right in front of them (RIP). 😔🔥
This is so sad, but it was obvious she was gonna do that.
Stop teasing the Children of Darkness after this Alessandra fake-out. She's got the same darkness in her that Nicki (AND Louis) had. And we know where that means. 🔥💀🔥
These vampires are STARVING--hungry for family, love, home: LIFE.
So is Claudia! 😭😭😭 She wants a blood spouse! She wants a companion!
So I LOVE that Morgan clocked Louis on Grace's photo--that ain't yo wife! The gaydar was beeping the second your pretty arse walked in!
Like, it's been established that Louis is a terrible liar-you don't need an investigative journalist to figure that much out. Louis is TOO honest--he was dumb AF for telling Morgan his real name! I get why he did it in the book--again: desperate to make a connection.
But on the show it comes across way different--Louis almost immediately tells Morgan his name (he doesn't do that for Emilia, even though SHE called him pretty! Istg I was picking up some flirtatiousness with Lou & Morgan; put those pheromones AWAY 😂). But you come across MIGHTY SUS if your Black arse is going around switching identities on all these twitchy Europeans, Louis!
Like baaaaaasicallllllyyyyyyy!!! 🤦 You see them shooting up corpses just to make sure--you think they won't shoot YOU!?!
Anyways, it's so cool that they made Morgan a photographer--so is THIS why Louis starts taking photos!? 🤩📸
Cuz I've been wondering how Louis makes money in Paris so they don't have to pickpocket anymore?
I love that they included this.
No matter where they go, they have to pose as Black servants and maids and VALETS and SLAVES, white folk are the same regardless of the country.
Which was an interesting parallel with Daciana, and how much they were hyping up America.
She was clearly nuts, but smart & sane enough to realize that 2 (two!) Black vampires had fled their oh-so-great "land of the free" to come to HER busted AF blown up war-torn country, so why should she expect to have any happiness over there?
I don't know a lick of Romanian, but I wonder if the "another one" she was referring to was the soldier, or the country. As Daciana realized that no matter who she made her new fledgling, and no matter which country she ran to, she'd be alone & unhappy without the people she loved--her HOME.
Home is where the HEART is! Claudia's been homeless this whole time! Daciana's got that huge castle, but lives all alone--she can't make proper fledglings. Meanwhile Louis still thinks NOLA is home, even after they killed everyone who knew them--"including" Lestat!
*sigh* I hate this effing show, it's so dang good. 😭
#interview with the vampire#louis de pointe du lac#louis de pointe du black#justice for claudia#iwtv tvc metas#must see tv#the hype is real#iwtv season 2 spoilers
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Request done for @choijesoo of their beautiful OC! 🪽
#myart#artists on tumblr#oc art#character design#request#emmy bee is back#This was supposed to be a simple sketch just to get faster#but their concept just had so much potential i couldn’t help myself and just fully rendered that bad boy!#I tried to stay as close to their original portrait as i could#but i took a few creative liberties to tie in their story and personality in my own way#I hope you dont mind the little changes!#its not perfect but this gave me a bunch of practice with some experimental techniques ive been wanting to try#which is why it took so long lol#but then again thats what these requests are for to learn and grow as an artist#whether that means getting faster or trying things i have never tried before!#i encorage everyone to take risks in their art and try new things!#do it wrong and do it scared because that is how we learn!
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More reasons why Zuko being the Firelord is objectively the funniest thing on earth:
HES SEVENTEEN
He hasn’t been civilised in 4 years, his entire teenage experience consists of living on a boat and sleeping rough. The most stable bed he has was probably in Ba Sing Se he probably will just nap anywhere.
He has customer service experience which means he probably uses his customer service voice on his minsters.
Additionally he probably just wanders into to kitchen to get his own snacks and tea because he forgets what servants do.
He probably has no idea why he can’t just chase after an assassin he used to hunt the avatar for Agnis sake why is the captain of the guard demanding he stay in his room he’ll find the guy first (he’s probably right)
Katara probably has a free pass on Eco terrorism because what’s he going to do challenge her, she’ll beat his ass.
If he saw a minster doing something shady he will either invite lady Beifong to detect their BS or commit B&E and look for evidence himself.
He somehow found a baby dragon and raises it.
He will be far to willing to give Kyoshi island anything they want cause he feels bad and Suki scares him.
He randomly insisted on giving some earth kingdom village 100 ostrich horses.
The Avatar will just show up call him Hotman and demand the go on adventures and the Firelord will just dip because he’s been confined to long and has the Zoomies.
He takes far to much advice from Sokka and will genuinely believe if someone doesn’t get Sokkas plans they must be an idiot because Sokka is 16.
Sokka and Zuko also get into a lot of teenage rebellion phases by accident.
Toph just walks in breaks a wall of his palace and demands a field trip that always involves the Firelord having to explain himself to the cops.
He somehow knows every dangerous teen in the world and they all come for tea uninvited.
He has broken into both the NWT and Ba Sing Se.
He has a really well documented facial scar and official portraits but still disappears to be Lee the tea guy like no one knows.
HES SEVENTEEN.
#zuko is the funniest the circumstances just happen character ever#firelord zuko#zuko#atla#avatar the legend of aang#avatar the last airbender#zee rambles#zukka#zuko meta
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Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers
There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.
How they begin
Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.
What to look out for:
Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.
Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know.
They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.
They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.
Where the scam actually happens
If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible.
Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.
A few things can happen here:
They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again.
They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.
The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions.
You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account.
Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.
You can find more info on that method HERE.
What to do when you encounter a scammer:
Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.
Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance.
Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.
Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info.
Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn.
Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it.
Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!
Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.
#art resources#artist help#artist advice#commission advice#scammers#instagram scam#please share with your fellow artists
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[Pt2ish]
— Yan!Artist who purposely only asks you in his college to be his nude model for his art assignments (which may or may not have been faked, but that's beside the point).
And you didn't want to turn down the offer because he was paying $500 per hour, which for a college student like you whose living dime to dime whilst paying for loans that were dumped onto by your sperm doner and that leech of a woman who you have to put down as your mother on documents, was a sweet deal.
In those sessions, they would get lewder over time, such as him from asking you to spread your legs some more to asking you to put whipped cream on your nipples with cherries on top for an extra $1000.
You never really questioned it. I mean, rich artist kid who may or may not like to see others (its only you) with whipped cream on their chest and their lower half with cherries on top, who are you to judge. Never question the rich unless it's with kids and Dubai.
Along with his lewd requests, he'd asked about little tidbits of your life, rather than stalking, he'd rather hear it from you so you both can develop a happy little relationship which turns into dating then marriage then have 15 billion kids <3 who would refuse this lifestyle???
After staying in one pose for more than an hour, it was draining on you, so you asked for a break. You decided to use the restroom, but the penthouse layout was a little too confusing and ended up opening the wrong door.
Your mouth was slightly open from the shock. The portraits of you over the last couple of months all had some dried up crust that looked like it was splattered all over the paintings. The floor wasn't better, either with tissues haphazardly strewn across the floor scrunched up and it smelt bad.
Too bad you couldn't open your mouth to complain because you got knocked out by an easel stand.
Fuck the rich.
Also, I've hit 60 followers! yayyyyy!!! I'm not sure if i should do a special or not cus I might make a special with bunny yan y omega yan with a male reader becos omega yan likes males more than females sooo why not and bunny yan doesn't care. Not proofread.
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also. been having a very hard week. our house was burglarized / mini invaded. no one got hurt, but my sisters iPad she uses for her online school and dad's phone got stolen, and our kitchen was semi destroyed, our rice supply was spilled everywhere and some?? eggs?? and canned stuff was stolen. After that, a family friend who was helping me with house duties got a stroke. So now I am all alone in dealing with all of this. It would be a huge mental health imrpovement, would absolutely mean the world to me if you guys can maybe help me boost my art? it's just that I love drawing and it's the only thing that's been cheering me up.
my Twitter is my "home base" and I've been posting lots of my drawings there that I don't post here, idk only if you'd like to follow ofc.
>> (link to my Twitter)
my patreon is only 1 dollar a month, and if you'd like to support me n my disabled family, through patreon would be awesome! if you'd like!
>> link to my patreon
and here is my imprnt
>> link to my imprnt
I also have three more slots of commissions on my ko-fi if you'd like to directly help.
My dad's phone has the philippine version of venmo, called "gcash", and it had about 200 usd in it that was only accessible through his phone (that got stolen).. it was for my mom's next hospital visit for her glaucoma and some grocery expenses.. so, if you'd like a custom portrait from me, I will do commissions. The automated message says the deadline is June, but full disclosure, the earliest I will be able to send a commission completed is JULY.
>> link to my commissions
mostly I just want a bigger audience for my drawings, I want to share my comics and my love for southeast asian culture, and would really really love a boost. Thank you for reading through n I hope u have a good day.
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“Back the fuck off.”
Summary: you and Regulus recently broke up over stupid teenage reasons. It was a really bad fight and you two haven't spoken since, though both regret your actions. At a Gryffindor house party, he spots you kissing Mathew smith, the Gryffindor seeker, who Regulus absolutely despises.
Pairing: Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader
Warnings: swearing, kissing, fighting, a bit of sexual assault.
⬇️unamused⬇️
Regulus stands at the drinks table with Barty as they are being pure Slytherins looking around with judging and cold looks. Neither of them wanted to come to said party, but Evan -who was currently participating in a round of beer pong- insisted they went.
His eyes travel the crowd and he spots them, making him narrow his eyes. He knew she was doing it to spite him, he knew even she hated Smith, but there she was, sticking her tongue down his throat.
"Ohh, she is playing with fire." Barty seemed to start enjoying the party the moment he followed Regulus gaze. "Shut the hell up." Regulus head snapped towards him and then his eyes traveled back to the girl and that stupid idiot she was kissing.
His hands where slowly starting to roam under her clothes and that's when he couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself of the table making his way towards them.
- 15 minutes earlier -
"They are absolute morons." Y/n shook her head as she watched Sirius and James jump of the table they'd just been dancing on. "Tell me about it." Remus rolled his eyes.
She took a sip of her drink as she watched the boys make their way over to them. "Oh, their coming pretend you don't know them." Peter said and they all quickly avoided eye contact with the two boys. "Oh haha, you're so funny." Sirius said sarcastically.
His eyes fell on Y/n and they narrowed. "Boring again, I see." He said as he eyed the glass with clear liquid in her hands. "But thinking about it, I could use some water," he took it out of her hands and a horrified expression formed on her face.
"Sirius no wait-" but she was to late and he took a sip and moments later spit it out, coughing. "Y/n, you absolutely menace to society." He said handing the glass back to her.
"Are you alright, pads?" James asked laughing. "I am, but she isn't, what psychopath just casually sips straight vodka." He grimaces and James' eyebrows race.
"What? It's good, you're all just over dramatic." She said taking another sip, making Peter chuckle a bit, as he himself had made that same mistake before.
They all looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open and watched an excited Evan and annoyed Barty and Regulus walk into the common room.
Y/n rolled her eyes, and then they landed on someone and a smirk formed onto her face. "Y/n, no." Remus said and she looked at him. "What do you mean no?" She asked.
"Regulus just walked in and your wearing that smirk? Whatever your planning, no." He said and she rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just a bit of fun." She said, standing up to leave the couch and pushing the glass into Sirius' hands.
"Here, you can have that." She says and he looks at it in disgust. "No thanks." And puts it down.
"Smith, hey." She greats the seeker and he turned to her. "Y/n, looking ravishing as always." He said with a shit eating grin as he looked her up and down and stopped at her chest.
She would slap him in the face if it wasn't for her plan just unfolding:
Make Regulus as jealous as possible.
"I can say the same about you." She said, her words slightly slurring. Smith took a step closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Everyone in Hogwarts who had a brain knew he had liked her since fourth year, which was one of the reasons Regulus despised him, but also the other way around.
Everyone in Hogwarts with a brain also knew Smith was an actual, selfish, prick. He had a reputation of cheating, one girl even claimed he had cornered her once, but no one knew if it was true, as she had a reputation of lying.
"I heard your single now." He grinned as he pulled her closer, his breath smelled like alcohol. "It was such a shame you where with... him." He sounded disgusted at the last words.
She let out a sarcastic laugh, starting to maybe regret her decision a little bit... but only a little.
"Well, that's over now... sooo." She trailed her finger passed his white button up. She looked up at him and he smashed his lips against hers, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Her eyes fluttered open to look around the room and they landed on Regulus who wasn't looking at her as his eyes traveled around the room, but she could see them slowly make their way over to them and she closed her eyes again as Smith tongue slipped into her mouth.
They broke apart for a moment before they kissed again and slowly his hands started to travel, one slipping into her skirt and the other under her top.
His lips detached from hers and made their way to her neck and then he whispered in her ears. "Seeing such a beautiful girl like you with a Slytherin. Tsk, I'll show you what it's like to be with a real guy." He whispered before going back to kissing her neck and his hand suddenly slipped into her panty's.
She was taken by surprise but before she could do anything about it, someone else did.
Regulus had made his way trough the crowd, pushing people aside and watching as Smith went further into her skirt and kissing her neck, it made his blood boil.
"Back the fuck off." He said and Smith looked up and grinned, taking his hand out of her skirt, and Regulus almost thought she looked relieved.
They made eyes contact and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want." She said, obviously with alcohol in her system. "Indeed, what do you want?" Smith asked as he put and arm around her waste and his finger tips rested under the band of her skirt.
"I want you, to get your filthy hands of her." Regulus said with a threatening tone. "And why would I do that? Such a pretty girl, and she isn't yours anymore? I wouldn't even have cared is she still was, I had plans anyway." He laughed dryly and Y/n looked rather horrified as she questioned if that would have been against her will.
"Leave her alone." Regulus demanded and Smith smirked. "And why would I do that, she seemed to be rather enjoying me."
Suddenly, Y/n started to really regret her decision, and grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further. "What is it baby, you don't like it?" He asked and she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Stop, I want you to stop." She told him and he huffed. "You don't tell me when to stop." He said and pulled the hand on his wrist away with his other hand.
She knew she had gotten herself in this situation, it was her own fault, but now she really wanted to get out. Suddenly he let go of her and Y/n hadn't processed the sickening crack.
Regulus had punched him right in the nose and blood was rapidly streaming out. His grey eyes fell on Y/n who stared shocked.
He grabbed her arm and then dragged her out of the common room and eventually stopped in a hallway.
"What is wrong with you?" He asked angrily. "Do you know how much worse that could have been?" He asked, he was furious as he turned his back to her.
"Honestly, Y/n that was such a stupid move! And for what? Making me jealous? Well it worked, happy now?" He turned to her as he yelled, but stopped as he watched her.
Her hands where shaking and tears streamed down her face. His features softened as he walked towards her and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of them.
"It's alright." He whispered to her and she shook her head. "No, no it's not, I'm so sorry, it was a stupid move. I didn't think it trough." She said as more tears streamed down her face and she sniffed as her nose was now full and starting to run.
He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and kissed her on the forehead. "It's alright, Ma Cherie." He whispered as he hugged her. "Come, you need to get some sleep." He said and then led her over to the Slytherin dorms.
She was sitting on his bed as Regulus took a T-shirt and sweatpants out of his closet. He hands rested on her top and then looked at her. "May I help you here?" He asked and she nodded.
"Use your words, darling." He said softly, he always requested she used words when asking for her permission to do things like this, as he didn't want her to regret later.
"Yes." She croaked out and he slowly lifted it over her head and helped her pull the clean shirt over her head. He did the same with the pants and then tucked her into his bed.
He changed out of his clothes to, and joined her, pulling her into him and kissing her forehead. "I love you, my little dove." He said and she murmured something along the lines of "I love you too." Back before falling asleep.
#harry potter#marauders era#regulus black#regulus black x reader#harry potter x reader#james potter#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#peter pettigrew#remus lupin#Reggie#James potter x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#wolfstar#remus Lupin x reader#regulus black smut#Sirius black x reader#lily evans#lily potter#rosekiller#Evan rosier#barty crouch jr
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Hi Jonny, if you don't mind I have a question about the TMA TTRPG! So I noticed that on the player's guide there's this guy, who my friends and I assumed is probably Jon. If it is him, is this a canon design, or more like some of the non-canon stuff that's in the merch?
So, I hope you don't mind if i use this ask to go a bit off on one. I'm not specifically dragging you (I'm actualy glad you asked, as I've thinking about posting on the topic), but all the discussion around the RPG art and how "official" or "canon" it might be is, to my mind, slightly silly.
First up, is it "official" art? I mean, yeah, its art for the officially licenced Magnus Archives RPG. This means Monte Cook Games have commissioned someone to do a beatiful illustration broadly based on some aspect, episode or character from the podcast and it goes in the book. But that's kinda all it means. "Official" is a legal distinction, not an artistic one. The fact that it's in an official product doesn't make it any less one artist's cool interpretation of a character that has only been vaguely described in audio.
Second, is it Jonathan Sims the Archivist? I mean, it's probably based on the idea of him, but it's certainly not set in stone. When we were first discussing art with MCG, we advised that character pictures be more vibes-based and not explicitly tied to specific people (ie. a portrait inspired by Tim wouldn't be captioned "This is Tim" and wouldn't be placed opposite a profile for Tim Stoker, archival assistant.) This was mainly because we wanted the artists to have plenty of freedom to interpret and not feel too tied down by the need to know everything about the podcast. But, to be frank, it was also because we know that there are a few fans out there that are kinda Not Chill about what they've personally decided these characters look like and can get a bit defensive over depictions that differ.
It strikes me as particularly strange to be having this discussion about art that's for a roleplying game book. Something that's explicitly and solely designed to give you the ability to play in your version of the Magnus universe. The idea that this is the thing where we'd for some reason try to immutably establish unchangable appearances for these characters would be pretty funny if some folks weren't taking it so seriously. Similarly ridiculous is the idea we could reasonably have said to MCG "We'd love for you to make a huge beautiful RPG book of our setting... Just make sure you don't depict any of the iconic characters or events from it!"
But... is it "canon"? Now, to my mind, this highlights a real weakness in a lot of fandom thinking around "canon", which is that it generally has no idea what to do with adaptations. All adaptation is interpretation, and relies on taking a work and letting new creatives (and sometimes the same ones) have a different take on it. Are the appearances of the Fellowship of the Ring in the LOTR movies "canon"? How much, if at all, does that matter? Neil Gaiman's book Neverwhere was originaly a 90s BBC series made with a budget of 50 pence; is anyone who makes fanart of Mr Croup that doesn't look like the actor Hywel Bennet breaking canon? What about the novel that describes the character differently? Or the officially licenced Neverwhere comic where he looks like neither of them? Which is his "canon appearance"?
Canon is an inherently messy concept, and while it is useful for a creative team trying to keep continuity and consistency within a creative work, for thinking about anything beyond that it tends to be more hinderance than help.
Anyway, all this is to say that the above picture and all the others in the RPG are exactly as canon as every other picture you've ever seen of the Archivist.
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Phantom's Number 1 Fan Part 3
John Constantine calls a joint Justice League and Justice League Dark meeting.
It's not something he wants to do. He barely works with the LJD, but at least that lot understands his work and knows what to do and where to go.
The JL members always ask questions and forget proper manners when working with the paranormal- John isn't the most well-mannered bloke around, but even he knows to permanently say goodbye to ghosts so that they don't follow him home- and it's like trying to teach an intern while dodging bullets.
He prefers to avoid the whole origination, especially since Bruce's death; everyone has been walking on eggshells, and there is a sense of disorganization drenched in grief that John breaks into hives just thinking about, but this is big.
Bigger than he can handle it on his own or with just the JLD. Even if the whole group gives the bats not-so-stable glances as they filter in.
John notices that one of Batman's brats is missing- the smart one- but he has heard that the kid suffered some kind of psychotic break from his father's death. It's sad, really, mainly because John used to believe that the third Robin was the one with the good head on his shoulders.
What's worse is that the Third Robin up and ran off, having gone off the grid when he refused to accept Batman's death. The boy hadn't said anything besides, "The portraits told me!" after having a miniature breakdown in his home.
It didn't help that around this time, the boy teammates had all dropped like flies except for one. So yes, John knows it wasn't a big surprise that he lost it, but it was still sad to see. Kid is only seventeen.
He hopes they find him soon to give him the help he needs. John would offer a spell to try and find him, but he needs to learn about the kid better, which means his spell can only point in a general direction.
Nightwing looked downright ragged, but losing a father on the battlefield and a younger brother to his grief did a number on anyone.
John hates himself just a little for dragging the grieving family here. He does, but again, this is bigger than all of them. This is a matter of life and death- literally.
"Listen up. We have a bloody level ten on its way to Earth if it's not already here." His words cut through the muttering crowd, shutting everyone up. A level ten makes even the big, lousy Superman sweat. He snaps his fingers, allowing his magic to shift into the image of a King Phantom sitting on his throne- painted in the early 1200s and the picture that can be used to identify him.
The art style would have been almost modern if it wasn't for the unease that the painting could cause due to the glowing green from his majesty's portrait. They say the green was ectoplasm from the king himself- and that alone should warn others to not mess with him.
Everyone Justice League Dark member hissed through their teeth, sitting up straighter and a few even pale. John is once again grateful that they understand just how deep in shit they genuinely are.
"This is the Ghost King. He is not to be confused with a god or king of gods. He's something else entirely because he makes gods nervous. He is on his way here to kill whoever is dumb enough to threaten his pregnant fiancee, and I fear the rest of Earth will be collateral if we don't prepare-"
"That's Danny Phantom," A young voice cuts John off. He is surprised someone would talk over him in a level ten briefing. All eyes turn to Robin- er, the new Robin.
The kid is frowning at the image, his signature scowl already deeper than usual. He's also heard the new Robin was a spoiled boy who was not a team player.
"You know King Phantom?" John asks.
Robin nods. "Placeholder is obsessed with him. Half his room is covered with King Phantom's heroics."
"Do not call him that.," Nightwing hisses a second later. He frowned when Robin ignored him but returned to the room without further comment on the boy's cheek. "Danny Phantom is a low-level search and rescue hero. He pops up around the world but only sometimes interacts with people. Robin- Young Justice Robin- was obsessed with him."
The room gains an awkward weight as no one is willing to bring up the mentally unsound MIA teenager.
It's too bad for them. John has never cared about making anyone comfortable. "You said his room is covered in images of King Phantom?"
From the corner of his eyes, John catches sight of Zatanna's face. She's pale white, with a horrified expression as if though she was standing before the grim itself. Every other member of the Justice League Dark is in a similar state.
"Yes, he has a whole wall of posters and stuff." Nightwing conforms, and shit John knows who Phantom's after now.
The thing is, one just doesn't have pictures of King Phantom. No one knows why, but the Ghost King can not be documented. Not without having some kind of connection to the King.
Throughout history, the only ones who have ever had even one solid picture of the king- John's magic doesn't count cause he can't well hold the thing up forever- usually meant that the King would appear before them at one point.
There is also a myth if one could beat a member of the royal ghost family, then one wish is granted to them. If one can kill a royal ghost member, death can be overturned.
It's not true, obviously, for death is not easily beaten like that, but John knows that as an expert, would a mentally unwell teenager know the same?
It was also known that if the King appeared before you, something terrible would happen. The sighting of King Phantom often came as an omen and usually right before a terrible disaster.
In the last disaster, they lost Batman, and if King Phantom had shown up, where the Third Robin have spotted him? Where the Third Robin have thought the King could return the dead?
Not to mention the rumors!
King Phantom was hunting down a group of humans known as "The Bats." John hadn't put that much stock in that rumor simply because it could have been anyone- hell, when he looked up the bats seven different groups appeared, varying from boy bands to zoologists.
But if he placed the name "The Bats" next to the Third Robin's psychotic break, his obsession with King Phantom, and his intertwined fates...well, shit.
There is a slight chance that the Third Robin's fate could be intertwined with the Ghost King in a positive light, but John has learned to not be optimistic in his line of work.
"I think the Third Robin is gunning after the Ghost King's fiancee and unborn child in a misguided attempt to bring Batman back to life. He may have kicked started a war that humanity can not win," He announces. He hates to say. hates to even suggest it, but the needs of the many outweigh those of the few. "We have to find the Third Robin and attempt to stop him. If we can't reason with him, we must put him down."
Wonder Girl gasps a sob, pressing her hand against her mouth.
John hates himself a little more as she sobs; a few rushes to confront her, but no one is unaffected by the news.
"I'm ordering a hunt for the Third Robin," Wonderwoman speaks up to her steady leadership, returning everyone from their despair. "Every available hero will help. Do not use lethal force unless there is no other choice. We may be able to find him before King Phantom's armies arrive."
John just hopes they are not too late.
Meanwhile, across the plane of existence, unaware of the manhunt for his head, Tim Drake is trying to stare down a Yeti, attempting to put him in silk clothes that are just fabrics held together by strings.
"No."
"But-But- but you have such a flattering figure! You must flaunt it! The Great One will barely be able to contain himself if he sees you in this!"
"No. It looks like something you wear on a honeymoon to seduce your spouse. I'm not walking around in that."
"Well, you don't need to bewitch his majesty. You already have a child on the way." The Yeit mutters, considering the fabric in his claws with a frown. He is Frostbite's royal tailor and has been attempting to dress Tim for over an hour. Everything he's suggested so far looks like it came from those romantic fantasy games.
It's like they want to make him a sexy consort or something.
Tim's teeth grind against each other. He hates how often his role is reminded, how casually the yetis mention that Ra's expects a child from Tim.
He doesn't even know how that child will come to be, and it makes him sick. He's been bidding his time, waiting for his wounds to heal and to find a weakness in the frozen fortress, but so far, he is unsure how he will escape.
And Bruce is still out there, waiting for Tim to get him. He can't waste any more time here.
"How about this cloak?" The Yeti offers, holding up a dark metallic fabric that reminds TIm of his Robin cape. "If we are going for a more conservative look, something that screams power is just the way to make the masses wild!"
Ugh, he really needs to think of a plan soon.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Phantom's number 1 fan#Part 3#The Justice League made the wrong conclusion#Or John made the wrong conculsion#Tim is still being pampered but now they want to show him off like a trophy husband they think he is#Danny is vibing while new Ghost King Lore is dropping
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Green-Eyed Monster
Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Trigger Warnings: jealous Regina, friends who don't agree with reader relationship (we've all been there, right?)
Request:
can you regina and reader are dating but reader starts being friends with janis, cady, and damian and regina gets super jealous and it causes a fight with reader and then they make up and it's fluffy at the end
Mean Girls requests are open.
(Y/n) laughed loudly, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth as many people turned to look at her. Within those many was Regina George, her girlfriend. Though, no one knew that they were dating since Regina was still in the closet. The blonde quirked a brow from her section of the cafeteria as Janis placed a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder to help shush her. This was an action that Regina did not appreciate as she narrowed her eyes over at the two. Neither noticed this action as (Y/n) only laughed harder, her forehead gently hitting the table as Janis patted her back, laughing, too.
"Why were you laughing so hard?" Regina asked, sitting across from (Y/n) in her room. She kept her eyes narrowed as she examined (Y/n), trying to figure out what was so funny that she didn't even respond to Regina's texts during lunch.
Regina was still learning how to be in a relationship, and she was far from perfect, but she was perfect at being jealous. Even though there was absolutely no need to be since nothing was going on between (Y/n) and Janis. However, Regina didn't know this. After all, Janis was conventionally pretty, and she came without the baggage of a hidden relationship since she was already out. There was a small possibility that the school's 'it' girl was insecure. Not that she would admit that in any way.
A small laugh escaped (Y/n) as she thought back to what made her laugh so hard. This caused Regina to cross her arms before standing up. "Well, we were talking about this painting from mine and Janis's art class. We had to do portraits, but there's this one guy who like sucks at painting. And, I am perfectly aware it's not nice to laugh, but his portrait of Ms. Klein was not it." (Y/n) couldn't help but feel more giggles bubble in her chest, though she was finally able to keep them at bay.
Regina must have not understood art humor, because this wasn't that funny to her. "Did you have to let Janis put her hand on you though?" She questioned, watching as (Y/n)'s brows knitted together in confusion over what the problem was. "People are going to think you two are dating or something? Do you realize how stupid that makes me look?" Regina looked angry, and (Y/n) was getting to the same point that she was.
Sitting up on her bed and closing her book, (Y/n) considered her words carefully. "Okay, look, I didn't mean to make you jealous, but Janis and I are just friends. I'm not sure what the difference is when you, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady are touching each other's faces to apply each other's makeup. Perhaps you can explain it to me?" (Y/n) tried to stay calm and centered. She knew how heated Regina could get. Still, she must've said something that worsened the situation as Regina's cheeks brightened in color.
"The difference is, Janis is out, and you are out," Regina stated, grabbing for her bag as she started for the door. (Y/n) quickly untangled herself from her blanket, grabbing Regina's hand to stop her. "Don't touch me. You should go hang out with your girlfriend, Janis. She was all over you at lunch, anyways."
(Y/n) let go of Regina, not wanting to anger her more as she sucked in a breath. "Come on, Regina, let's just talk. I don't want to argue over this. I will ask Janis to stop touching me if it will make you happy." (Y/n) offered, hoping to create some peace between her and Regina. She hated arguing with anyone, but she despised arguing with Regina. It was another level of fighting that she couldn't handle. It made her head spin.
Regina walked out of the room and started down the stairs with (Y/n) hot on her trail. "I don't want to talk. I want you to understand how stupid I feel when you just let Janis put her hands all over you." Regina said as she made her way to her Jeep. "Just leave me alone." (Y/n) sighed as Regina shut her Jeep door and ran her hands down her face. She knew to give Regina space, that chasing after her right now wouldn't do anything for either of them.
(Y/n) went back to her room, falling back onto her bed. She was in love with Regina, but the worst part of this being a secret is she couldn't go to her friends for comfort. Instead, she felt unintentionally isolated as Regina's perfume still lingered in the air unhelpfully. She realized that Regina's insecurity more had to do with the fact that she and Janis were both out, but Regina didn't even give her time to help her work through that with her. So, instead, she had to force herself to not call or text the girl.
The next day, around lunchtime, (Y/n) was still somber over the events from the previous night. She had texted Regina a sweet 'good morning' as always but received nothing back. That's why it surprised her when Regina approached her table. "(Y/n), I have a quick history question, can I speak to you in private?" Regina glanced over at Janis, who rolled her eyes at Regina. (Y/n) nudged the girl beside her to stop before following Regina out of the cafeteria. "I realized that I took my anger out at you. To be honest, I was a little scared you might find Janis to be a better girlfriend because she was out, and you didn't have to hide." Regina admitted, causing shock to spread along (Y/n)'s face.
She wasn't expecting Regina to be insecure over Janis. "I understand your fear, and I understand your insecurity. You should know though, I'm not into Janis. She, Cady, and Damian are my best friends. I love them, but it's very different to the way I love you." (Y/n) put her hands over Regina's before their fingers intertwined.
Regina tried to hide the grin growing on her face as she looked down. "You love me?" She asked, her voice filling with emotion, a shift from the apologetic tone she held just before.
(Y/n) laughed softly before kissing Regina softly. Regina kissed back, cupping her cheeks. "Yeah, I love you, Regina George." (Y/n) said softly, glad to see that they had made up and that they were both getting over their previous argument.
"I love you too, (Y/n)," Regina said softly before taking her hand and leading her out the door. "Come on, I'm ready to go out there. I don't care what people think anymore. All that matters to me is that you're by my side when I go out there."
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Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)
a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)
Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.
Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3
PT. 2
Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up.
Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors. He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.
Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again.
Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board.
There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently.
A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one.
Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail.
You have to be alive and in good condition.
Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?
- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected.
***
The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol.
You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in.
The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.
The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after.
By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage.
Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting.
That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.
Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really.
It started with Old Lady Sal.
You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.
Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen.
And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf.
The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland.
You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over.
So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can.
Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion.
That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly.
- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.
Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck.
- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero.
Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame.
You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.
You were drunk, not stupid.
***
The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake.
It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door.
It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother.
Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.
- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...
Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise.
- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.
- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...
- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words.
- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...
You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.
- Put pressure on it.
There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.
- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.
- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.
Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.
Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain.
- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer.
- Well, kinda. A Ghoul.
You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together.
- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.
They led him to you.
Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers.
Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth.
Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later.
There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead.
The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface. The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands.
Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.
He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.
- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.
Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.
Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions.
No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?
- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.
- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.
A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.
He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight.
- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.
Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table.
Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.
- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.
- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys.
Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently.
- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips.
- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.
Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones.
You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.
- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression.
You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants.
A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.
Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers.
- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again.
Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones.
Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders.
He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff.
Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.
- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too.
A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package.
- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck.
Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days.
The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen.
You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin.
The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner.
- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.
Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave.
- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs.
- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you.
You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly.
Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance.
- You serious?
- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?
- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up.
- Wait.
Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue.
The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe.
- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.
He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily.
Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin.
- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.
He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes. If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender.
Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins.
#my writing#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard x you#fallout smut#fallout x reader#fallout tv series#cooper howard smut#the ghoul smut#i walt on his goggins till we fallout
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I've been reading a lot of Korean isekai webcomics lately and given me an idea of being Malleus or Leona fiance who he didn't even love at all ( liked he thinks they are being too clingy or something like that but in reality they care about them and try help them out with daily tasks and try to bring something interesting to lighten the mood or the very least lift up their mood to at least feel better )
and reader taken over the body of said fiance and just like " I don't wanna get killed, or die, I have magic to help me out so I'll just run away from here " and just left him to venture out in the world maybe settle in somewhere outside of the kingdom to somewhere else in a small village to settle, and when they realize that how much their former finance care for them and realize they are no longer in the castle and looking for them
And what do they feel when they see her ( fae or beastwoman ) with a human male who made her really happy when they found her
Manwha Mistreated Married Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
It's downright unfair to be the only one trying in this arranged marriage setting. Not to mention the lack of care when it comes to hiding their growing interest in this Yuu character. Why shouldn’t you be allowed happiness with your own human, far away from the unforgiving environment of their castle? What’s worse is that they will come running and it is not to congratulate you:
Leona Kingscholar
“What the-”
When he finally does get around to actually doing the paperwork of being a prince
He finds that he’s been sent a constant barrage of divorce material
And then he’s reminded that he’s been married off to…someone he can’t even be bothered to remember
But he looks at the official Royal portraits of you
And goes to search
He wanted to see what he was working with
“Uh your majesty, they’ve been gone for over a year now.”
A year?! Already
So he reaches into the back of his mind to the memories of you
Reporting how much of his work you did for him or how you gifted him some new pillows as a gift
It makes him feel itchy
So he begins an arduous search for you
Something that takes longer than he expects
Eventually finding you working on a farm
Clearly making goo-goo eyes at the pathetic buff farm hand
So he decides to pop your bubble, revealing that technically still married
“Oh, I know that. But they’re waitin’ on you to finalize the divorce, y’know?”
Drats
There’s nothing more he hates than watching you look longingly at each other despite being so close
But he can’t bring himself to sign his name
Preferring to instead fight for his ownership of your heart
And if he has to get dirty he doesn’t mind
It just means he’s one step closer to making you return
He wants you to come running back to him
To hang off his every word as he does now
To kiss his knuckles and tell him how good of a husband he’s been
Malleus Draconia
“I’ve misjudged you…I’d appreciate if you returned home now.”
It's a wake-up call to have you laugh in his face when he says this
Usually, any protests would be met with his immense strength and magical prowess
But too bad his grandmother set him up with someone of near equal standing even worse better you seem to have been training
It was a past time for you as you moved into a non-descript village
All to retreat from a spouse obsessed with the first human to express any interest in him
Now forget all the times you attempted to converse with him or let him ramble about gargoyles
Only to be ignored or spat at for imitating his ‘child of man’
Well if he liked them so much he shouldn’t have minded when you wordlessly took a hiatus from the kingdom
No one seems to miss you, your presence is filled by the buzz of a human being around
But when that human leaves for home or turns in to achieve that sleep they so desperately need
He misses you
Finds even he unexpectedly snaps when his best friend reaches to sit in your chair
What strange magic…for him to wish you were present
He finds you easily
And is surprised when you wretch in disgust when he arrives
And if you’ve taken a guardian role to some poor orphan child they copy the behavior
Constantly reminding him of your supposed dislike
He’s not fond of this version of you at all
So he lingers like a dog kicked outside
Watching from a close distance as you live your new life
Sparking something in him as he finds you absolutely alluring at every angle
Suddenly that human’s pleas for his return become the static of something irritating
He needed you to come back and if a distraction was what was stopping you then so be it
But you’re so empathetic they might prove themselves useful as the king’s bargaining chip
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere malleus draconia#yandere malleus x reader#yandere malleus#yandere leona#yandere leona twst#yandere leona kingscholar#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yandere x reader#yandere leona x reader#yandere x you#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes
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Soft touches
Theodore Nott x gn! reader
Fluff, less than 1000 words
English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!!
It was friday evening. You were heading to the library as usual. At this time, there weren't many students, so you could peacefully read. Stepping into a big dark room with many shelves filled with old books and candles flying everywhere, you smelled a familiar scent. God, how you loved this place.
As you sat at your usual seat in the back of the library and opened your book, you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You looked up and saw Theodore Nott.
You didn't talk much to him, but you were crushing on him for ages but wouldn't admit it, even to your best friend or even yourself. He was more like the quiet type of person. He didn't speak much, and you always wondered why he was friends with Draco and Mattheo. They were the complete opposite, loud, outgoing, mean, and always partying. Theo is kindhearted, he may seem scary and imitating, but that's far from the truth.
"Hi, is this seat taken?" He said, pointing to the seat beside you.
The library is almost empty, why would he want to sit here?
"Not at all, go ahead." You said slightly smiling at him.
He sat down and took out a sketchbook from his bag. You didn't know he liked to draw. You tried to subtly look at his drawings as he flipped the pages.
The sketchbook was filled with beautiful landscapes, animals, and portraits of people you've never seen before but also of his friends, even some teachers. They were mostly drawn with pencils, but some of them, especially landscapes, were painted. They were absolutely beautiful. You've been so caught up in admiring his work that you didn't see that he noticed this.
"Well.. I know it might sound weird, but could you pose for me? I mean, it's totally fine if not, but you look so pretty right now, and I'd love to capture this.. gosh, that sounded creepy, I'm sorry." He said.
It really caught you off guard but didn't fail to make you blush slightly.
"Don't be sorry. Thank you, and yeah, I could do that. Should I move?" You said hoping he wouldn't notice how nervous you are.
"Not really, just do this..." he said, taking your hand in his and moving it to your face. His cold finger tips brushing against your cheek.
His hand was so soft. His gorgeous eyes were looking straight into yours. How could you be so madly in love with him?
You didn't move a muscle as he started drawing you. His blue eyes scanning every inch of you. The only thing you could hear was the rain outside. You were as focused on him as he was on you. His dark curls falling onto his forehead, his pale skin that reminded you of the moon, his sleepy bright eyes, his soft pink lips, his long, skinny fingers. All this made you fall for him, he was breathtaking.
He finally finished and showed you the drawing.
"Here it is. It's not perfect but I hope you'll like it" he said handing it to you.
It was marvelous, he drew you exactly how you look like, added every little detail.
"You can keep it, sorry I have to go, I promised Draco I'll help him with his assignment." Right after he spoke, he rushed out of the library. You didn't even have time to thank him.
Sighing you stood up, but the piece of paper fell. You picked it up and saw text on the back.
"Would you like to go to hogsmeade on a date with me? I think im falling for you more every day."
You also think you're falling for him more everyday, if that's even possible.
Masterlist
#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott#slytherin boys x reader#fanfic#harry potter#hogwarts au#hogwarts#theo nott x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#harry potter fanfiction#slytherin#slytherin x reader#lorenzo zurzolo#harry potter imagine#hp fandom#hp fanfcition#harry potter fanfic
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How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him
The Painting
LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)
You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.
You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.
You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.
Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.
The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.
Luffy’s POV
I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.
I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.
“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.
I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.
I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.
“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.
Your POV
You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.
“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.
“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.
You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.
“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.
“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.
“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.
You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.
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Dead Parents - How to avoid them.
We are all very familiar with the notion of dead parents in fiction. For example, Harry Potter’s parents are dead before the first book even starts. Or in Portrait of Dorian Gray, the protagonist is brought up by an absentee and very neglectful grandfather. It’s a trope used again and again. And it does kind of work. It certainly allows your young protagonists the opportunity to gain agency and find their own way in the adventure thrown at them. But it’s also rather predictable. As a reader, we don’t sympathise as much because it’s such a used trope.
So, here are some of my thoughts about how to avoid the dead parents trope, and still propel your characters into the action.
Kill Someone Else.
I know, violence isn’t supposed to be the answer. But characters don’t only have close relationships with their parents. If your plot centres around a revenge quest for a dead loved one, it doesn’t have to be a parent.
Siblings who got caught in the crossfire trying to protect your MC, or an aunt/uncle they were close to being poisoned works just as well. Best friends are also a useful source of grief, and the fact it’s someone outside the family perhaps gives your MC more of a push. Equally, a significant other may work, although that is a used trope too. It might even just be a beloved pet.
Use their Morals.
People in the real world do not simply act out of revenge for the death of a loved one. Character morals can be just as powerful a motive for action, and Young people in particular are just beginning to discover what matters to them, and so it feels at its most important.
Perhaps your MC feels that the magic system in your fantasy world does not allow for people with disabilities to have access, and so uses that as their springboard. Or in an apocalypse setting, the desire to protect fellow humans against a threat may act as the MC’s launch pad for setting up a safe base somewhere. Concerns over equality, safety, climate change, government choices and even things as small as how cereal is marketed can motivate a character into changing their world/current situation.
Create Conflict.
Arguments, breakups, scrappy fistfights with someone in a back alley. Conflict is one of the spokes of a story, as it creates opportunities for moving the plot forward, and can hold the characters back from achieving their aims. Using this to start your character’s story arc makes for an explosive scene, and allows immediate sympathy with the situation they are in. Everyone argues, has had someone they care about walk out of their lives, or has at least been punched, so the familiarity of a minor but important conflict helps the reader associate with the character, as well as setting up any skills the character has or may need in order to defeat the foe at the climax of the story.
Parental Encouragement.
In a good family situation, parents will want to support their children and young people in achieving their goals. And the same can be true in stories. Perhaps your character wants to learn to play hockey, for example. Their parents can very easily encourage them to join a practice group, help them buy kit, and encourage them to play in matches. Having a supportive adult can mean as much to an MC as having said support removed, and although this doesn’t work for epic fantasy revenge quests, it does create a welcoming atmosphere for a reader.
Those are the main ones I can think of off the top of my head. Do add in comments/tags any you know of!
Happy writing!🌿
#writeblr#writers on tumblr#creative writing#wip stuff#writing advice#writing tropes#writer’s musings
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