#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanfictionlibrary · 7 months

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Startling Nightmare (Alec x Reader)

The reader's appearance is not specified. Gender neutral Y/N.

A/N: Sooo... Make of this what you will. It just happened. Many things are left open for your interpretation. Please let me know what you think..(cries in self-consciousness)

Have fun and enjoy!

Your heart pounded rapidly as your eyes shot open. A feeling of pressure remained in your ankles and feet, although you knew that that sensation couldn’t be real. Still, the pictures that had unfolded in front of your eyes a few seconds ago – sometimes idyllic but always foreboding, sometimes gruesome and inescapable – had carried over from the dream world into the actual world, leaving you with not only tingling feet but also with sweat grasping your body. Your forehead was clammy, and your pajama shirt clung to your skin. Usually, you sleep with a lot of clothes and a thick blanket. Otherwise, you get cold. But now was one of those rare times when all of it was too warm for comfort.

You dared not to move. Usually, you do not mind nightmares. When you woke up, you laughed about them and giggled when you closed your eyes again, soaking up the rest of the night’s hours for more sleep. But this one… It had been so vivid, so dynamic, and disturbing that it invoked the need to be held by someone. You were not a person who liked to be held. You dealt with your stuff on your own. But not now.

You called out his name faintly. Although you despised the emotions and memories that followed you like the shadows of a ghost. He had taken your dreams, after all, by bringing you to this cursed castle. You only dared to move your head to the side a little, limbs remaining under the blanket. A part of you was afraid that the woman from your dream would suddenly appear out of nowhere. Maybe hanging from the ceiling or clinging to one of the pillars of that stupid vampire’s four-poster bed. You were so grateful when you only found him. He was already standing next to the bed, keeping his distance. Either he had heard your heartbeat accelerating while you dreamed and had come immediately to see whether you were alright, or he had appeared like a flash of lightning – just without the light but instead like a looming shadow, tracing your every movement – when you had called his name.

You couldn’t tell. Just like his sleepless immortality failed to grasp the concept of a dream, your human senses were fallible when it came to this marvelous being. He had gone too long without dreams. For him, only reality had remained. Sober and gloomy. Until you came… But you fought him with every ounce of blood in your body. The very source that had made him addicted to you in the first place. Until the addiction transformed from craving your blood into the encompassing sensation of unconditional love. But that transformation had only happened for him. You needed more time. You were not ready to love nor to be his.

“Alec.”

“Y/N.” He hovered at the edge of his bed.

His bed. His room. His everything. But your boundaries. And he respected those. In fact, in the last few months, his room had become your safe place. Your things were scattered everywhere, but Alec did not mind. He gave you as much alone time and space as you needed, realizing that this was the least he could do after tearing you from your life. Alec was now often found in Jane’s room, much to the latter’s dismay. She was also very fond of her time alone, but the twins could be in the same room and not talk for hours or even days.

You found yourself mulling again and again over the fact that Alec and Jane had never once called you out for needing so much alone time. Especially Alec was very understanding. He seemed to understand when you wore noise-canceling headphones, lying on the ground and staring out the window. A lot of people have called you absurd and abnormal for your behavior. So often that you were just waiting for someone to utter those words again. The past had made you believe that you were not deserving of kindness nor of being understood. So whenever someone said or did something nice to and for you, you questioned it endlessly, trying to decipher an ulterior motive that was not there.

That made it so hard to trust Alec. To love him like he did you. Unconditionally, spiritually, and infinitely.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Alec asked, a tremble going through his hand. But he didn’t act on it. He didn’t reach out to touch you.

Despondent, you nodded. “Can… you…” The words died on your tongue. It was so hard to say them out loud.

But Alec understood. “Of course, I can hold you. If you want?”

You nodded again. Slowly and cautiously, he got on the bed, the mattress sinking down. The presence of his weight was already comforting. But you needed more. He waited patiently, letting you decide how close you would be. You had a clear idea in your head. You placed a small pillow on his chest, and he held it in place. Then, you draped your blanket around your shoulders and back, climbing between his legs, rolling on your side as his arms engulfed you. You rested your head on the soft pillow. One of Alec's hands cradled your head. The other lay on your shoulder. Occasionally, it wandered down, drawing circles on your arm.

Now Alec was everywhere. You were caged by him. Lost in him.

“What did you dream about?” he asked softly, pulling you closer to him. His legs drew together, his knees almost touching. Alec made you feel one hundred percent safe. But the dream…

You could not ignore this one. Your dreams always had some kind of prescient quality. Not every dream, but some were hints pointing toward the future. There was some message in this dream, too. Impending doom and danger that might be prevented. Sometimes, you wondered whether those dreams would manifest themselves as a gift when you were going to be turned into a vampire. A week ago, the Kings had sent someone who could see whether a human would have a gift once they were transformed. That man could also see what kind of gift it would be. However, in your case, he could only see that you would have a gift. Nothing concrete formed in his mind. That was no surprise. Not even Aro’s gift worked properly on you. When he touched your skin, he could only see a few random pictures that originated from your mind, and although they were powerful, they were not especially telling about you as a person.

Some pictures showed moments of your life. Most depicted… fantasies. Monsters. Dark colors. Light colors. Mountains not found on this planet. Stars. Vast oceans. You had always refrained from commenting on Aro when he wondered about your peculiar mind. You always had a very 'alive' imagination that seemed to be its own independent entity. It just so happened to have chosen your body as its vessel. There was no taming it. Only accepting and living with it.

Initially, you did not like the idea of becoming immortal. But the Volturi Kings had told you the rules. A human could not live with the knowledge of the supernatural world. Which meant death.

You had been fine with that. Anything but being stuck in a prison with powerful beings who hunted your kind. But Alec would not allow that. You had heated arguments, but eventually, he prevailed. Talking you through the advantages of being a vampire over and over again. Some discussions were pretty factual and rational on both sides. What convinced you eventually was not beauty or eternity. But you really wanted to have one of those high-functioning vampire brains. Imagine… The possibilities. The languages you could learn! You had already picked out a few that you had always wanted to study but did not have the time for. But if you put immortality into the equation… There was more than enough time.

When you had told Alec that you were okay with becoming a vampire, he had breathed a sigh of relief. Although he didn’t need to. Naturally, he had inquired why you had changed your mind. The vampire smiled smugly when you told him, the corners of his mouth twisting with amusement.

“You are a clever one, Y/N.” Alec chuckled. “There is no power as great as knowledge. Besides, you do not need more beauty. You are perfect as you are.”

“Whoa… Tone the flirting down a little.” You rolled your eyes, sitting next to him on the sofa in the library where he was reading a book.

“There is a difference between flirting and speaking the truth.” He kept his gaze on his book.

“Stop it, charmer.” Your cheeks were glowing slightly.

Alec heard the rush of blood in your cheeks and smiled, satisfied. “Never. So, what languages?”

“Definitely French and Japanese.”

“I can help you with French. Japanese… I know someone who might be able to teach you. You will only get the best teachers and books, of course.”

“Splendid.” For the first time, Alec saw you smiling genuinely and brightly. So languages. You loved languages. He remembered that and your smile. Languages and telling stories. Those were your purposes. He knew there was nothing you were more passionate about. Just thinking and talking about it made your eyes glow, clouding him deeper and deeper in your enchanting presence.

That passionate expression was a stark contrast to the dullness that had settled on your face now. It seemed like you had not heard him asking what you had dreamt about.

Or maybe you had, but you were so lost in your mind now you had forgotten he had asked a question.

“Y/N,” he called out softly, brushing your temple. You jumped, startled. Ahh… you had indeed wandered into the most remote corners of your enigmatic brain. It often happened. “What did you dream about?”

“Do you perhaps know a woman with black hair and yellow eyes? Yellow cat-like eyes?”

Alec frowned. “What do…” But the words died in his throat. He did know a woman with black hair and cat-like eyes. Her eyes were not exactly yellow. They were an intermediate form between brown and yellow. “Tell me more,” he said instead.

“So you do know someone like that.”

“Yes. Her coven drinks animal blood. What happened in your dream?”

“Well.” You paused. “Buckle up, Sir, as we dive deep into the human subconscious. This will be a ride unlike any you have ever seen before. Hooray..."

"So," you began, "at the beginning of my dream, we both were swimming in the sea near a small harbor. We were both wearing clothes. And were still dry. But dreams don’t ever make sense. So, I wouldn’t bother about that detail too much. Anyway, that woman suddenly appeared next to us. Her skin was grey and looked unhealthy. She stared at us, but we didn’t mind her. So we left the water, walking on a lane that connected a park to its city.

"The woman followed us. We turned to the city, and she went toward the park. Strangely enough, I talked to her, and we smiled at each other. Somehow, she looked normal then. Lovely, even. Beautiful skin and bronze hair. Warm eyes. We parted ways with her, following the sandy road to the city. Suddenly, while we walked, I felt pressure on my feet. I looked down, staring at them. They were covered in blood. Something was sticking out of them. Something that did not belong there. Startled, we turned to our side. The woman was back: grey skin, yellow eyes, long black, sleek hair. Smiling sadistically again. She tricked us, making us believe she was friendly. And when we weren’t looking, she attacked from behind. The scary thing is, you didn’t see any of it coming. You didn't hear her approach.”

Alec remained silent. “I know her.”

“She loves you. She is obsessed,” you noted flatly. “You have history.”

“Yes, but that’s nothing for you to worry about.” He kissed the top of your head. “I was never interested in her. I will see if she poses a threat.”

“I don’t quite believe I have nothing to worry about.” You shook your head. “My dream told me you weren’t worrying enough.”

“But now I am aware of her. I won’t take this dream lightly. I know that you have some kind of gift.”

“Another thing.” You sat up, staring deep into his eyes.

“What is it?” Alec tensed when you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck. He quickly relaxed, however. Enjoying your warm breath on his cold skin. “We have met before. Haven’t we?”

“Yes.” Pained, Alec nodded.

“In another life.” You kissed his jaw, face returning to the crook of his neck. “Before the dream I just described, there was another sequence of events. It was shorter. But I was there. I was not from this life. But from another. And the woman was there, too.”

The vampire’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer. He crossed his legs, caging you even more. “Yeah, in that life I lost you to her. And it will not happen again.”

“How many years ago was it?”

Alec chuckled. “Y/N, darling. Think bigger. We are talking about centuries. 1245, to be exact. But you were a young man then. A poet. Dashing and courageous.”

"I’m glad to be back.”

“Glad.” Alec spat the word out. “That does not even come close to describing how I feel. It is hard to put into words. I’m sure you can find the right words. After all, you are talented with them.”

“It feels like a dead planet was revived by hope and hope alone after experiencing armageddon. As if all the puzzle pieces of the world have connected to build their one true form. As if the past, present, and future have morphed into one entity to give birth to an endless golden summer. It feels like…”

“You.” Alec breathed. “Just like you. And that is enough.”

“You…” You smiled. “Yes. You.”

Alec was about to swear that he would never leave your side from now on. Even if it annoyed you. But then he felt your slow heartbeat and even breaths. You had fallen asleep. Here, in his arms.

“It feels like me, too. Like you and me.” Alec closed his eyes, imagining a dream.

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bisluthq · 2 years

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I actually adore the way she describes him, its like his fucking portrait man. Like “boyish look in a man” “dazzling haze, mysterious was” “his hands around that glass” “ocean blue eyes/ indigo eyes” “walking with his head down” “grinning like a devil” its his entire looks and personality in a nutshell

I also love the… autobiography… of a lot of Taylor’s music. It’s important imo not to reduce her to a pussy powered jukebox, and she does fictionalize and use metaphor and imagery and she romanticizes and stuff. But a MAJOR strength of hers is how much of a deep dive she can give on a person and how keenly she can kinda shed light on personality and relationship and dynamics.

So like with red Jake songs we get a very clear sense of a charming, handsome, intelligent man who makes her feel a bit daft sometimes and insecure and demeans her a bit but in ways that confuse her and who… ya confuses her. And if we watch or read interviews with Jake or other people who passed through his life, the picture she paints appears very accurate.

Her Joe Jonas songs are often all up in her own feelings but there are themes that come through - how fun he is, how silly he is, how whirlwind this whole thing felt at the time - that really reflect on other things about Joe and like you CAN tell more about Joe just from her music about him.

And her Joe A songs paint SUCH a vivid portrait - it’s her most in depth one yet - that I’m regularly flabbergasted by her writing skill and ability to describe and perceive the world around her.

The songs can be about whatever FOR YOU but it’s mind blowing to me how accurately they portray a real - flawed and complicated but charming and fundamentally good - human being.

And with the John smack cam how it does justice to a bad human.

#nat talks songwriting

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, promoting nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, stalking, murder, kidnapping, torture, mental manipulation, use of LSD, physical violence, mind breaking, sexual scenes and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟸 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟾 𝙵𝚃.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■□80%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□90%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚛

𝙱𝚎��𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

𝙴𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚢/𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 .

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎.

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 '𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝' 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He was a lost and wandering soul when it happened.

It wasn't that he was depressed or unsatisfied with his life.

But for the longest time he felt....empty.

As if he was carrying a void that couldn't be filled.

Not even his favorite hobbies gave him joy any longer.

It was as if he was either tapping out tunes on the piano or splattering colors on articles of clothing.

They had no meaning whatsoever anymore.

Live no longer felt to have any more meaning to him.

He felt like he was merely an empty shell, just going through life but never actually living.

Coming out of an arts and crafts store, his hands were full of all sorts of acrylics and watercolors he had just bought.

A passing cyclist didn't see him and didn't really care as he slightly collided with Hongjoong.

Letting out a big "oof!" he stumbled onto the pavement underneath him, all his materials flying out.

Although he wasn't hurt much, he still let out a groan and tried to get up.

He was startled when a gentle hand reached out towards him, lending him some help.

Looking up, his heart somersaulted as he stared at the kind and beautiful stranger that was offering him assistance.

"Are you all right?" Her eyes were full of concern and tenderness for him.

Hongjoong forgot how to speak in that moment, too amazed and stunned by the beauty standing right in front of him.

Nevertheless he did take her hand, his body trembling nervously as soon as he had the first physical contact with her.

The woman shook her head as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Seriously, what a jerk. Can't believe some people honestly."

Hongjoong still didn't respond, instead he shyly began picking up some of the stuff that had fallen.

"Let me help you." She offered her help once more.

Of course she was faster and picked up most of the stuff because he had a huge scrape on his knee and he was limping slightly.

"Thank....thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper as he took the stuff away from her.

"You're welcome. Would you like me to help you carry them to your car?"

Waving his hand he adamantly denied her offer, assuring her over and over again that he was all right.

Before he could leave, the girl extended her hand once again.

"I'm Y/N by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Y/N...."

Her name repeated itself over and over again in his head even hours after she had left him.

Even as he layed in his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling, he couldn't keep the softest smile off his face.

He didn't know if he had drifted off to sleep or was zoning in and out of a lucid dream, but all he could think about was her.

He was up as soon as the sun rose up, flinging his blanket across the room as he ran to his desk and took out his sketchpad.

Right away, he began to outline her face, wanting the vivid image of her to stay with him should his mind ever dare to erase her from his memory.

Although he was satisfied with the ending result, it was still not enough for him.

He felt his goddess, his newfound muse needed more justice than just pencil to capture her beauty.

Watercolors, acrylics, oil pastels and even ink, there wasn't any art material that Hongjoong didn't use to create a portrait of Y/N.

Soon his studio was filled and covered with paintings of her and he couldn't be happier...

Until he realized how much he'd rather have the real thing right there in person with him, in his arms, holding her and never letting go.

He almost fell into a depressive state again, dreading the fact that he'd never see his beloved muse ever again......

Until he saw her once again, walking across the street from the cafe he was in.

He quickly sprung out of his seat and ran out the door, eager to see her once again and hopefully talk to her more.

Just as he was about to call out to her, he stopped when a male came up to her, hugging her ever so intimately and ruffling her hair.

Hongjoong's hand tightened into a fist, nails digging into his skin as his eyes burning with anger and jealousy.

"She's my treasure, I found her and I won't let anyone else take her from me."

Making sure they were unaware of his looming presence, he stalked them out, trying to find the perfect opportunity to strike.

They seemed to be going on some sort of date, which only fueled his anger.

Finally, after they both went their separate ways, Hongjoong followed the mysterious man home, not letting his chance escape.

As soon as the man parked in his driveway and got out of the car, Hongjoong cornered him.

Using his belt as a makeshift weapon, he wrapped it around the man's throat, tightening it until he cut off his air flow.

Although he put up quite a struggle, Hongjoong was so full of anger and rage that he kept him strangled until his body stopped writhing and layed cold on his feet.

Taking his keys, Hongjoong decided to go inside the house to see if he could find anymore information about his precious treasure, figure out where she lived and what not.

Finding a cabinet full of documents, not only did Hongjoong found her address but also ended up discovering the man he just killed was actually her brother, and not a lover as he believed him to be.

"Oh well. Mistakes happen." He justified himself.

"Besides, he still would have been an obstacle and might have come between us."

A week later and now he was waiting for her inside her house, not having any difficulty in breaking in.

His eyes would anxiously look at the time, waiting for her to come home from work like she would usually do at that time.

When he heard her car come up in the driveway, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Y/N walked into her house as usual, throwing her bag onto the couch.

As she was about to turn on the light, she felt a hard blow to her head, knocking her to the ground, her vision suddenly turning black.

When she awoke, she was beyond startled by all the countless portraits and clay figurines modeled after her.

Her eyes scanned the entire room, somewhat frightened by all the countless images of her staring back at her.

She was so bewildered by the scene that she didn't hear the door open and didn't see the person who came in until she was jolting out of her seat when a hand placed itself on her shoulder.

When she turned around and saw who it was that was smiling at her, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"You......you're...you're..."

Hongjoong nodded. "Yes my darling. I'm the man you helped out a month ago. Which, by the way I'm still grateful for."

Cupping her chin with his fingers, he leaned in to give her a kiss but she backed away, which made him frown.

"Hey, it's not very nice to reject someone's offer of gratitude darling. Did they not teach you manners at home?"

When he reached out to touch her once again, she smacked his hand away, moving as far away from him as possible.

Although it didn't really hurt him, Hongjoong was disappointed that his beloved muse could actually strike at him.

"This isn't what I imagined or expected from you love. You're supposed to be gentle, serene, obedient and just outright perfect.... like the pictures surrounding you.."

Y/N put her hands above her face when he crept closer to her once more, but Hongjoong, who was deceivingly strong for his body built, quickly took hold of them and uncovered her face.

"But that's ok.......if a small lump of clay can be easily molded into a beautiful vase, I'm sure I can mold you to perfection."

Y/N shuddered at his words, and tried to writhe her way out of his grasp as he pulled her out into the hallway and dragged her down into what she assumed was his basement.

Using his strength to overpower her, he easily strapped her down into one of the chairs he kept there, binding her legs and hands down.

"I suggest you start familiarizing yourself with this place Y/N. This...."

With an eerily calm and somewhat sadistic smile, Hongjoong extended his arms to gesture around the room.

"Is where your training begins."

7 months.......for 7 excruciating months, Y/N had been kept in Hongjoong's house, 3 of which were spent inside his room of horrors.

She still didn't understand how she came out of there alive and in one piece.

There wasn't a single night where she didn't relive the torture she went through.

Slapping, canning, limbs stretched out til they were almost out of their sockets, head submerged in water til she nearly passed out.

One time she had resisted so much and pissed Hongjoong off extremely by slapping him that he strapped her hand down and smashed her fingers one by one, breaking them entirely.

Of course, although he helped her heal them as he did her other wounds because he didn't want permanent physical damage on his treasure.

It'd only serve to ruin and taint her perfect image.

But the worst for Y/N wasn't going through all the physical torture.....

Her worst nightmare was all the times Hongjoong dosed her on LSD, prompting her to start hallucinating horrible scenarios.

Her mind seemed to weaken with every dosage he gave her, it would slowly eat away every last bit of her sanity.

Which might explain why now she tried to be more obedient and pliant towards Hongjoong, doing everything as he said and exactly how he wanted her to.

Although occasionally she would still step out of line, he'd shoot her a glare and warn her about it.

"Do you want to go back down there? Did I not give you sufficient training?"

At the sole mention of being taken back downstairs, she'd immediately remember herself and portray the illusion he wanted.

Hongjoong seemed thrilled to finally have created the perfect model, his beautiful creation came to life.

He was absolutely head over heels for his lovely goddess, she was beyond perfect and ethereal.

Sure she still had a little bit of stubbornness in her, but that was easily fixed and she'd be his perfect little doll once more.

And he loved praising her and reminding her about it, especially when they were intimate.

"See love? I knew you would come to love me." He whispered softly in her ear, a low moan escaping his lips as he moved inside of her.

Kissing the sides of her neck, he panted softly as he came inside her.

"My beautiful and perfect goddess."

Months turned to over a year and although Y/N still played the part of a loving and perfect soulmate, she didn't know how long she could take it anymore.

Perhaps it was being locked up for so long, perhaps it was the fear Hongjoong instilled in her. Maybe she was tired from playing a role she couldn't keep up with anymore.

All that combined with the fact she was now pregnant with Hongjoong's child, her hormones going crazy and her mind worrying about what her future would be like had her ready to snap.

One particular day, she just about had it.

Hongjoong had been smothering her all day, constantly nagging about taking care of herself and not harm the baby.

Her blood was boiling with rage as he kept pestering her about it over dinner.

Having had enough, she got out of her seat and reached for the nearest kitchen knife and pointed it at her stomach.

"Why don't I just rip out the baby out then? Maybe then you'll be satisfied."

Hongjoong immediately got up and tried to take the knife away from her.

"Y/N! Have you lost your mind?!" He exclaimed.

"If I lost my mind it's all thanks to you!"

Even after Hongjoong managed to toss the knife out of her hands, Y/N still continued to struggle and smack her hands at him, beating at his chest as hard as she could.

"I hate you!" She declared before her fist tried to collide with his face, but Hongjoong being faster than her, stopped it from hitting him.

Outraged that his model was breaking down, he picked her up, not caring about her being pregnant and stomped his way back to the training room.

Y/N was already bursting into tears when he began strapping her down into the chair, protesting about it.

"You'll hurt our child you mon-."

Gripping her throat tightly, he cut her off from finishing that sentence.

"This coming from the one threatening to rip the innocent baby out herself. But don't worry, I'll make sure no harm comes to our child."

Letting go of her neck, he quickly took out a familiar vial and needle out of a cabinet.

Although Y/N tried to get away, it was no use as she was once again tied up and the sting of the fluids shooting up her veins, making her dizzy immediately.

Hongjoong only watched with a blank face as the drugs started to take effect.

Going back to the cabinet, he took out a folder and walked back to Y/N with it.

"Now.... I never planned to show you this, but I guess you left me no choice."

Even in her hazy state, Y/N could make out what seemed to be a picture of her brother, but she wasn't sure if it was an illusion or not

"Yes, that is your brother indeed. Took care of you when your parents died and you were very attached to him. Your only living relative right?.....or is he?"

Pulling out another picture, Hongjoong made sure to hold it up right in her face so she could clearly see the gruesome image.

"This is how I left him after I attacked him one night. You'll be proud, he put up quite a good fight, but as you can see......in the end he still lost." He actually had the audacity to chuckle as if it was an amusing thing.

Y/N wanted to scream, but her body wouldn't allow it.

She couldn't believe that her remaining family, the only hope she could grasp onto and help get her out of the mess....

Was gone, forever vanished from the face of the earth by the same monster who took her away.

She no longer had the physical, mental nor emotional strength to resist and fight anymore.

She allowed her body to succumb to the effects of the drugs, eyes closing as she fell into a deep sleep full of haunting memories and images.

When she awoke hours later, she felt absolutely nothing, only numbness.

Gently stroking her hair, Hongjoong leaned in and scanned her expressionless face, satisfied when she just allowed him to pet her as he pleased, no longer resisting his touch.

"Do you know who you are?" He simply asked her.

Without even so much as blinking, she answered in a monotone, almost robotic voice:

"I'm your soulmate, your muse and your goddess, and I love no one but you."

Hongjoong nearly bursted into tears. Finally after so long, after so many experiments and efforts, he finally created his ultimate masterpiece.

"Perfect......at last...you're absolutely perfect.

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aki-mochi · 3 years

Text

Levi x Chubby!Reader: A Real Friend

WARNING: contains cursing and mentions of bullying. Word count: 1484

Entering her house tiredly after a very long day at work, (Y/n) hung up her stuff with a sigh and made her way into her room. When she entered, she flipped on the light switch and began to change into her pajamas. Her body was thicker than other girls so she had a hard time fitting in anywhere. She thought she looked fine, but people spoke otherwise. ‘Why would anyone be friends with you?’ ‘You’re embarrassing to be around with.’ ‘You think anyone is going to date you looking like that?’ ‘Maybe if you lose weight, you’ll actually look pretty.’ ‘I honestly pity your boyfriend for dating a fat thing like you when he could do better.’ It really took a toll on her mental and emotional state and began to believe what they say.

Once she was comfortable, she grabbed the TV remote and turned on her favorite anime, Attack on Titan. Captain Levi happened to be her favorite character. She would smile whenever he was on screen. He made her happy. She didn’t feel alone either. Upon hearing her phone go off for a text, she paused her show and unlocked her phone to read it. It was from her boyfriend, Jean.

My Stallion: Hey, I don’t really know how to let this out easily so I’m just going to say it. I’m breaking up with you. This past year was fun, don’t get me wrong, but you’re just too much to handle. I’m sorry, (Y/n).

As if her mood couldn’t get any more worse than it already was. She stared at her phone, rereading the message with tears filling her eyes. One after another, they spilled down her cheeks as quiet sobs escaped her lips. Hugging her favorite pillow, she sobbed her heart out, unaware that someone was starting to appear.

His body formed and began to look around. Black hair in the style of an undercut, narrow steel-blue eyes that were accompanied with faint dark bags from years of insomnia. His clothing were those of the Survey Corps with his signature cravat.

Captain Levi.

Hearing the sound of crying, he turned around and spotted (Y/n) curled on her bed in utter despair. Clicking his tongue, he came closer to her.

“Hey, brat. Why are you crying?”

He got no response, which instantly made him annoyed.

“Hey. I’m talking to you.” He stated and went to touch her head only for his hand to go through her.

He quickly pulled his hand back and looked at it in slight shock before looking back at (Y/n) and she spoke through her cries.

“I h-hate my life….I just want someone to be there f-for me….I wish Levi was real…”

‘Real…? What…?’ Levi thought.

He stood there in silence as he watched her cry. He wasn’t real, yet, he was standing in the middle of her room like another person would be just not able to touch anything or anyone. He felt slight guilt for not being able to comfort her so he sat down on her bed and waited for her to calm down on her own.

Several minutes pass, and (Y/n)’s cries are reduced to sniffles as she tenderly reaches for the tv remote to resume her show. Levi looked at her then at the moving pictures on the weird box thing. He saw himself being the badass that he is and was highly interested in what she was watching. Glancing over, he saw her lips form a small smile as she watched her show and had decided to watch over her, even if she’ll never notice him.

~Skip~

A few months have passed and Levi has gotten to know more about (Y/n). A laid back girl with a great personality, quite the anime nerd, or ‘weeb‘ as she calls it, and quite fun to be around. Her art skills were amazing and her story writing was on point. She even had a body pillow of him on her bed, which gave him some concern about her obsession at that point. She doesn’t have any friends so it tugged at his heart strings when she came home from work utterly upset when other work buddies decided to go out for pizza as a group and left her out. Right now, he sat on her bed and watched her draw at her desk with her headphones on, listening to a comfort video of him. Hearing a sniff from her, he perked up as a hand went up and wiped away any tears coming from her eyes.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you….I love you, Levi...You make me so happy….”

His eyes widened. He, then, stood up and gritted his teeth with balled fists; glaring at her even though she won’t notice.

“You brat...I’m trying...I’ve been watching you for a while now...I don’t know what to do….” he took a step closer. “Nothing has worked! I want you to know that I’m here! I’ve seen how you watch me on your tv….the way you draw me...and the way you hug that fucking body pillow and pretend it’s the real me!”

By this time, Levi was furious as tears welled up in his own eyes. “I’m fucking pissed! I wasn’t there for my comrades, now I can’t even be there for you even though you’re right in front of me! I hate it! Give me some sort of answer, or something, so that you can hear me to let you know I’m here, dammit!”

As always, there was no response.

“God dammit…!” He yelled and swung his fist at nothing only to hit some sort of invisible wall. He looked in confusement as it started to glitch and buzz where his hand was until it suddenly started cracking from the impact. Pretty soon a big hole was made and everything in the room was more vivid and bright as he looked through it. He noticed that (Y/n) had visibly perked up when he hit the wall and frantically looked around for anything that he could throw at her to get her attention.

He then looked down at his cravat and quickly took it off before throwing it at her. Seeing it hit her back, she paused her video and reached behind her to grab what had hit her while taking her headphones off.

“Brat?”

Upon hearing an echoed voice, she turned around and spotted the whole in the middle of her room with Levi on the other side of it. He gave a relieved look before noticing that his hand started to slowly disappear the second he reached out for her.

“Tch. Shit..” he cursed before jumping through the whole and approaching a very confused and speechless (Y/n). As soon as he reached her, he carefully brought her into a close hug.

“Le-Levi….? I can finally h-hug you!” She said through tears as she tightly hugged him back; a sigh of relief escaping his nose.

“You’re real…!” She smiled.

Levi then pulled away from the hug and cupped her face as his body began to fade away. “Listen to me. You’re not alone, alright? Though it was brief, I’m glad I finally got to actually meet you.”

(Y/n) stared at him before seeing how his entire hand was gone. Her eyes widened as she grabbed at his jacket. “No, please! Don’t go! You just got here! I-I don’t wanna lose you!”

Her sad pleads fell silent as he pressed his lips against hers for a soft kiss. Once he pulled back, he gave a rare smile. “I’ll come find you again, (Y/n). Just wait for me.”

Tears fell down her cheeks as his body completely faded into nothing. Her cries echoed through her house in utter despair as she hugged herself, wondering if she’ll ever see him again.

~Skip~

A good year has passed and (Y/n) has somewhat gotten better since that day she finally met Levi. It still pains her that he left her without warning, though a fictional character would never be able to live in her world. And that was the hard truth. Letting out a sigh, she entered a small tea shop and went up to the counter. Glancing around for assistance, she noticed how clean it happened to be until a worker approached her from the other side of the counter.

“What would you like, miss?” He asked in a blunt voice.

(Y/n) looked up at him and her eyes widened in shock. The worker looked exactly like Levi, just in regular clothing instead for the Scouts uniform. Even his name tag read ‘Levi’. Upon seeing her reaction, he suddenly gave a slight smile.

“See? I told you to wait for me, you brat.”

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

“Daydream.”

A/N: I have NOT written in a while. Or posted rather. It’s been.... a month??? I’m sorry. It’s been.. hard. I also have summer classes which are slowly choking me. Yey.

Anyway, I hope... you all enjoy? I think I’m rusty. There are a lotta plotholes and some... hhrnnghh characterization that i feel iffy about. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Anywhooooo. Thank you to my lovely platonic crushie @tanuki-pyon hihi for allowing me to use your drawing for inspiration ;-;. Thank youuu <3 Hope you like this.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It is a bustling city, full of life and vivid color. The songs of the late afternoon played- their notes produced by that independent street musician, backed by the passing cars beneath the balcony, the rhythmic dripping of a loose faucet in the bath, and the rustle of leaves caused by a passing breeze that caresses her cheek.

Life, color, music, and a touch.

They all paint a particular picture- one of wine-red eyes, and a charming smile; brown locks that she had tucked behind a heated ear, adorned with exotic jewelry she had purchased for her.

As she draws the cup away from her lips, she sighs in contentment, the distinctive taste of Boldo tea and the dimming rays of light blanketing the expanse of what she could see making her smile bittersweet.

It's getting late.

She knows she has to finish her packing. After all, this fleeting vacation is a dream she'd have to wake up from, come the morning rays of tomorrow. It was short-lived, but she'd like to think these few moments in the city or Buenos Aires are moments worth remembering forever.

Even if there was a possibility that they were but a daydream.

That she is her daydream.

Her phone rings, and she sighs a different sigh. It's one of disappointment and reluctance as walks into the room, swiping the blinking gadget off the table. She taps the green icon, placing the device by her ear, eyes dulling as she listens to the speaker on the other end with poorly-veiled disinterest.

["-Are you listening?! Do you understand? The moment you step off that plane, your fiance will be there to greet you. Then he will drive you to work, and you will-"]

Her face contorts in disgust at the statement. "He's not my fiance." She says, voice cold and adamant.

["Diana! How could you say that- about Andrew Hanbridge, no less! The man who has not once given up on you, unlike all the other low-life suitors out there. He's rich, intelligent, charming, and well-mannered."]

Diana scoffs at the very first descriptor of the man she was to marry supposedly. 'Rich'. Of course he had to be.

"Listen here, and listen well. You've been off on these silly trips, writing god knows what for well over ten years. It's time you grew up and got married, and inherited the corporation!"

Diana grits her teeth, hands crumpling a few papers on the table. She immediately regrets that action as she realizes her manuscripts now have ugly creases in them, much like her own plans for life. Not that those were any easier to iron out.

["Then dinner at the Hanbridges will be at seven-thirty. Sharp. I have a dress prepared for you in your room. We will be discussing your wedding with And-"]

And she hangs up.

Turning her phone off, she throws it onto her mattress, the silken covers causing the device to slide right off and onto the floor with a thud.

Diana curses as she rushes over, checking for any cracks or damage. She hasn't turned the lights on, and her open balcony does not give her much light, so she opts to run her fingers over the screen, praying she hadn't broken anything. As able as she was to afford a phone, that doesn't mean she wanted a change at any time.

...also, her number was saved here. Diana isn’t good enough with phones to know how to retrieve that.

Diana sighs again. This time it is of relief. She leans back with a plop against the side of the bed, staring blankly at her wall.

Tomorrow... she leaves.

Tomorrow, she never sees her again.

Tomorrow, she talks of marriage plans with two families who couldn't care less about what she actually desires in life.

Tomorrow... she's gone. She may as well be dead if she wouldn't even be 'living' in the first place.

Tomorrow...

What would she be doing?

Where would she be at?

Would she still have the same smile on her face as she greeted the passersby who would freeze in place, stand in awe as time stilled for them as they become entranced in the magic that was her dance?

Diana frowns.

Would someone else fall in love with her?

Like Diana has?

...Would she... fall in love with them back...?

Diana feels a pang in her heart as she slumps to the floor, now lying against the hard wood. If she were back in the UK, she wouldn't be caught *dead* in this position. Her aunt would have her head.

She blinks, staring at the ceiling.

Oh? It's quite comfortable, she thinks, consciousness slipping into nothingness.

-It's a slap to her cheek that has her sitting up in haste, body moving in a trained way of self-defense as she arrests the perpetrator in a hold face-down onto the floors.

"Diana! Diana! Fu- shit! Waitwaitwaitwait-owowowowow it huuurtsss, it hurtsssss!!!"

And it’s a familiar voice that cuts through her panic, and makes her let go rather clumsily, resulting in more hurt for Diana’s victim.

“Akko!” She exclaims, happiness and concern in her voice.

“Well, you sure look happy. Are you into this sort of play?” The girl chuckles wryly, rubbing at her joints as she fixes herself into a seated position on the floor as Diana kneels in front of her, confused at the words.

“Play?”

“Yeah. BDSM, that kind of stuff.”

Diana flushes at the bold remark, floundering helplessly as her mind ceases to produce a coherent response.

Akko watches her with open amusement, head resting against her one propped up knee. She hugs the limb, keeping her steady as she stares at Diana unabashedly.

Diana stares back.

“Wh-what.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I-! Ah-uh, nnggh?!” Diana doesn’t know if she’s going into a seizure. Maybe she is. Maybe she should have gone to med school after all, to confirm-

“Pff-” Akko begins giggling, then cackling, then just falling onto her back, hollering in laughter on the floor.

“Wh-what! What… why are you laughing? I- Did i do something silly?”

Akko wipes a tear from her eyes, laying on her stomach and propping her head up on both hands as she faces Diana. “You’re silly.” She teases, tongue poking out, eyes crinkled moons.

Diana can’t help herself, biting onto the bait.

It’s a deep kiss, and Diana didn’t know she knew how to do it.

What do people call it? French kissing?

They pull apart and Akko presses her sweaty forehead to Diana’s, chuckling breathlessly against her lips.

“Many types of attacks today, Miss Cavendish. You are one powerful woman with a vast arsenal.” She jests, a hand reaching to cup Diana’s face and pull her back in for a chaster peck on the lips that turns into two, then three.

“I like to have many options at my disposal.” Diana sighs into every brush of their lips, returning a few of her own, nipping at Akko’s bottom lip as she leads her into a submissive position, lying on her back with Diana hovering over her.

“Boy, am I glad you do…” Akko whispers, eyes glued to Diana’s glistening mouth, the pair leaning closer and closer and- “OHMYGOSH-WAIT. THIS. This is not what I came here to do!” Akko yelps, pushing Diana’s face away and accidentally spraining her neck.

Diana groans as she rubs at her nape, cursing quietly.

“SHIT SORRY”

Diana waves her concern away as she offers a crooked grin.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m sorry, Diana. Sorry, I-”

“Akko.” Diana giggles, carefully nearing the girl once again. She leans in slowly this time- just in case-, and plants a kiss on her cheek. “How and why did you come find me?” She asks, tone joyful, yet pained.

“Because I know you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Diana hears a record scratch, and the city’s music comes to a pause. It’s deathly silent, and her breath catches in her lungs, heart painful.

Diana’s smile falls, as she places distance between them, sitting formally in front of Akko.

“You…”

“You told me in your sleep…” Akko murmurs, her words playing flashbacks in Diana’s mind- memories of a night that was not supposed to exist.

“No- I… I… Akko…”

Voices in her head play back all her duties, her realities that tell her that the woman in front of her is not a part of them. She’s a daydream, and she’s- as all daydreams are- a fleeting one.

Diana has to wake up tomorrow morning. She has to go back tomorrow.

She has to be ‘the real Diana Cavendish’ again. Not because she wants to be. But because she is.

“Diana, I need to say that-”

“Then- then…” Diana cuts Akko off before she can deal more damage to her mental state. “Then you must know… that being here… makes it harder for me not to leave.” Diana replied with a crack in her voice. “I can’t stay, Akko. I can’t. Even if I wanted to…” She whispered, unable to project her voice.

“Diana, that’s not what this is abou-”

“I can’t stay here, Akko! I’m supposed to go home and get married!”

Her eyes widen, and so do Akko’s. Diana… doesn’t know what to say. Neither does Akko. They both remain frozen in time and in place.

“I can’t… stay here… with you…” She feels a tear slip past her cheek… then another, and another, until they dribble down her chin and onto the back of her hands that are clenched on her lap. “You’re a daydream… and… and…”

“A reality you won’t face?” Akko asks, voice surprisingly steady and clear. “I’m not a daydream, Diana Cavendish. I’m not a figment of your imagination.” She speaks, voice bolder as she gets up and walks up to Diana, making the girl crawl backwards as she hits her back against the foot of the bed.

Diana gasps as Akko grips her collar, pulling her closer to her. She instinctively closes her eyes, awaiting a hit- a punch, a slap, whatever it was.

And she gasps again as the soft caress, much like the gentle winds soothe her skin and her pounding heart.

“I’m not your summer getaway, or your escape from real life. I’m not a fairytale to lull you to bedtime that you forget once the sun rises.” Akko explains with a crooked smile, tears staining her cheeks as she buries her face into the crook of Diana’s neck. Her breaths tickle Diana there, and her tears pain Diana’s heart.

Diana moves to wrap her arms around Akko, but stops midway. She… doesn’t deserve to do that.

“...hold me…”

But Akko deserves to be listened to.

And so, Diana holds her. She holds her tight, and she doesn’t let go. Not until Akko wants her to.

“I’m not asking you to stay.” Akko murmurs against Diana’s skin as the latter runs her fingers through smooth strands of hair.

Diana admits that hearing that statement hurts as much as it relieves her.

Her sense of duty tells her she has to go back to her home in England and run her company, and yet her heart told her that Akko was her home, and that not staying would mean losing something that she might never be able to earn back again.

As much as it pained her to know more, she needs to. For both their sakes. “Then what must I do? What can I- we… what do you want me to do? What do you want us to do?”

Akko pulls back slightly, grinning sheepishly as she presses her feelings into a kiss against Diana’s lips, before pulling her up with her to head towards the door.

Upon opening it, Diana sees a few bags lined up against the wall, ready for a trip to god-knows-where.

Her mind wasn’t registering this at all-

“Bloody fuck.”

“Took you long enough to figure that one out, huh?” Akko laughs, bringing their joined hands to her lips, and kissing Diana’s palm. “Weren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

“Well… I… holy shit…”

“I had no idea you could curse like that.”

“Mother of… my… arse…”

“Mother of your arse? Really?”

“Akko.”

“Yes?”

“Akko.”

“Yes, Diana.” Akko rolls her eyes, as she pats Diana’s cheek with her free hand. “You’re supposed to take me with you.”

“Bloody hell…” Diana murmurs. “Just marry me.”

“...”

“EH?! Really?!”

Bonus :>

“So why were you in my room that night in the first place?” Diana laughs, running her fingers along Akko’s cool arm, holding her close as they snuggled together in a hammock, reminiscing a daydream so long ago.

“Ehh... are you really asking me this right now? Diana, it’s been years since that happened.”

“And yet, I know you remember it as well as I do.” Diana laughs, knowing that Akko was rolling her eyes as she scoffs against her neck. “I’m right, aren’t I.”

“Cheeky.” Diana chuckles as Akko pokes her cheek in annoyance, but explains anyway. “I was knocking on the door, but you weren’t answering. I rang, and spoke through the intercom too. Then room service came by and I said I just forgot my key and they let me in.”

Diana feels slightly concerned about the security of that hotel. But wait, there are better questions that need answering.

“... then why did you slap me?”

“...”

“Akko?”

“Because you were asleep.”

Diana guffaws, disbelieving. There was no way she was that hard to awaken. She pulls back slightly, looking Akko in the eyes.

“You couldn’t have woken me up other ways?”

Akko looks away momentarily, feet already swung off to the side, as if she is about to step out. Which she did.

“...no?”

Diana watches her skeptically, now also sitting up.

“Akko?”

“Well, you know. It was nice chatting and all, but maybe I should get back to my practice for my road show and...”

“Akko? Akko… Akko why are you walking away? Akko- hey! Come back here- AKKO!-”

And she was gone, bolting like the wind, leaving Diana stunned and comically livid.

“ATSUKO KAGARI-CAVENDISH, YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT. THIS. INSTANT!”

#diakko #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #lwa #little witch academia #fanfic

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sakarrie-creates · 2 years

Photo

Heyo!!! I know I’m a bit far into the new year, but with this being my first year of digital art, I really wanted to make sure I got this so I can start my build up to compare future years to! This also includes a fair few pieces of art I haven’t posted so take that as reward for actually looking haha. You can find the blank template here!

A few end of year questions cause I love self-reflection way too much!

What was your biggest challenge this year?

Man it really depends on the project! In the beginning, it definitely was anatomy and perspective. I had so much stuff that I wanted to draw but just didn’t feel like I had the ability or knowledge to pull it off. That being said, after I found position references and 3D models, that was way less of a stress, and positioning the individual joints I feel taught me a lot on it’s own just about how different body positions look. After that, it moved into the steep learning curves of animation and lighting. I have an animatic project that I want to see come to life so bad, but I’ve had had to realise it’s going to take a lot of practice with other random animatics/animations to feel like I can full that off. I also have just had a consistent fear of backgrounds and lighting, neither of which I’ve done anymore than dip my toes in still.

If I had to pick one single challenge for the year though, I’d say it was just the mere vastness of tools and styles at my fingers tips. I had so much I wanted to do and so many tools I wanted to use, but they all took (and are taking) a very long time to get used to. Just as I start to feel comfortable with my toolset, I realise there’s a better way of doing something and start back at the “beginner” stage. All being considered, though, that definitely isn’t too bad of a challenge to have haha.

What was something you were surprised by?

Other than the absolute bottomless pit that is CSP’s features? Okay, but for real. That thing is crAZY. Hmmmm I think maybe how much my style varied? I feel like even through I draw Player and Carmen all the time, they still look different in 80% of my pictures. Other than that... maybe how okay I am with my shading? Like, on basically all of these that I even attempted shading on, I thought it was absolutely terrible and obviously incorrect. Looking back through in putting this together, though. I was definitely surprised to find that I’m actually kinda proud of most of them. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me in that department, but I don’t think I need to be as intimidated as I’ve felt.

Where do you think you most improved?

Definitely in my sketches. Once I had a basic comfort with anatomy, it really was freeing. They’re messy at best, but not having to look up what an arm looks like from a certain angle every time made it way more of a relaxed environment. 90% of my art this year is in quick sketches, and I find that I actually am okay with them even after the first time or two. The repetition has really given me a lot more confidence and I’m way faster. Now I just gotta work on getting PAST the sketch part lol.

What are you most proud of?

Probably my Whumptober trap door animatic. It took me absolutely forever and it’s not consistent in style at all, but it spanned several minutes, included only one character that I’d drawn before, had some pretty dynamic scenes, and there was even a bit of background work! It’s certainly some of my cleanest lineart I’ve made and, considering how vivid the scene was in my head, it’s not actually crazy different. It proved to myself I could pull it off and gives me a lot of hope for my other animatic aspirations.

Speaking of which, 2022 Goals!!

As you know if you happened to have looked through my writing reflection, this is going to be a pretty heavy year in school so I’m trying to keep actual commitments low. That being said I have lots of things I want to try out more this year stylistically:

-Brushes: There’s so many and I’ve got no idea how or when or why to use them, but I want to try!

-Shading and Lighting: I left a lot of things uncolored because I was scared the shading would ruin them, but I’m not going to improve if I don’t let myself fail a bit first.

-More Dynamic Scenes and Positions: Same as above. They’re terrifying, but I want to be able to do them better

-Experiment With 3D Sets!!!: This last month I’ve discovered that in the same way I can use 3D models, I can use 3D sets as well! I’m once again at the very bottom of the learning curve, but I’m so excited for the potential this could bring to the ambitiousness of my scenes.

-Post More: I’m honestly kind of terrified of posting art for some reason, but I have tons to share. I don’t know if it’s cause tumblr is more intimidating, or cause art is stolen more often than fics, or cause it’s way easier for a small mistake to ruin an overall art piece, or cause it feels less common to be a mostly h/c artist than to be an h/c author. There’s tons of worries and insecurities that probably play into it, but I think it would be nice to feel more comfortable because those of you who do interact with my stuff are really nice and deserve the extra Player content.

Overall, how’d the year go?

Pretty good! I really explored a ton of stuff with my tablet and I’m just beginning to feel like I’m moving out of the experimentation stage and into the doing stage (for some things haha). There’s still so much to learn, but I’m getting to the point where I enjoy my art more often than not and in my opinion, appreciating your work where you’re at, despite the flaws, is a huge step towards becoming a better and more confident artist.

#sakarrie's art #carmen sandiego #supernatural #Voltron: Legendary Defender #cs player #cs carmen #vld pidge #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #vld shiro #vld Matt #owlet (gulfish)#tw blood #end of year #art summery 2021

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obeymeluv · 3 years

Text

Signs they Love You (Pt. 2)

This semester is almost over and while the teacher is a bit disorganized, I have a semblance of breathing room. I thought I’d pop this out real quick and maybe something smaller. Baby-related thing still pending. I want to do it, just not quite enough time yet.

Part 2 has Asmo, Beel, and Belphie.

Belphie’s is not long AT ALL because...well, it’s Belphie. And it’s me. I’m so-so with Belphie.

Asmodeus

For once, his charm and sin is a double-edged sword

Yes, he’s very experienced and has had many lovers--many splendid little things over hundreds of years--but how to make it unique? How to tell you?

Asmo is very calculated in how he flirts, from what he wears and what he plans to say. He personally believes every relationship should be special. No repeated dates unless both people have a preference for it

So when he decides he likes you, the first thing he does is pull out this BIG ASS BOOK he’s kept for centuries and leafs through it to see what he’s done before

No, it doesn’t matter that 99% of these dates were AGES before you were born. He’s checking the list because YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL DATE!

He’s secretly hoping you’ll get some of the many hints he’ll be dropping, but consulting the book is also a good idea for an official first date

After two weeks of shopping with you, taking spa days, trying to weasel his way into more cuddles, Asmo decides it’s time to pull out The Book idea because you’re not getting it

You’re just distracted by his beauty to see the fact that he’s trying to flirt. It’s fine.

This date idea requires the big guns (really only Diavolo, but he needs Lucifer to get to Diavolo). He’s setting his plan into motion, trying to sweet-talk Lucifer into taking him by Diavolo’s castle but Mammon overhears

The second-eldest is very unimpressed, DARES to mock him while sipping noisily on a soda, and just asks him why he doesn’t tell you straight up.

“Because it’s a stupid, tasteless idea.” Asmodeus scoffs and shoos him away like an annoying little thing as he amps up the charm and resumes his conversation with Lucifer.

“Bet it’ll work.” is all he hears Mammon murmur.

“Look,” Mammon shrugs. flicks his eyes to Asmo and then just nods his head towards you as you come around the corner into the dining room. “You just man up and say, ‘Do you--SMFF!”)

Asmo has never strangled anyone to death but today it might happen

Or he’s going to break this new six inch heel off in Mammon’s mouth (or his ass)

With Mammon sufficiently strangled (or choking on his soda, he’s not sure which) Asmo, plays it cool (barely) as you pass through to do something else (thank god!)

Highly amused, Lucifer agrees to help him

By the end of the week Asmodeus has a cute greenhouse picnic planned. Only Satan and Lucifer know

He’s pretty scarce around the House of Lamentation, even turning Solomon down once or twice, but it’s all worth it for the set up. He even bought special flowers

Barbatos escorts you through the winding greenhouse that almost seems lush and trim enough to be part of the Royal Gardens. He stops just before a manicured arch of flowers, the walkway studded with garden lights, stepping stones, and beautiful roses

He goads you forward, sending you on your way. The little roses perk up and explode into gorgeous blooms

And they’re talking?! One of the notecards say they’re a Devildom brand of rose--a mimicrose. The flower acts like a recorded, hiding a secret message, and blooms when it’s delivered to the right person

Your face lights up a gorgeous flattered color as you make your way down the trail compliments popping up every step

Asmo’s waiting at the end of the arches, looking like the cat that ate the canary with his catered spread. Sitting pretty on the classic checkered blanket.

You only kind of hear the last rose confess--Asmo’s voice going quiet and shy as he swears he really, really loves you

The demon in front of you seems very far from that shy voice but you catch the tinge of pink on his cheeks. He saunters up to you and says something witty about how only he could be perfect for you, and that only perfect him could set all this up!

You two have a cute, quiet date with little cakes and finger foods

Diavolo sends Lucifer a text with a blurry photo saying he ‘photobombed’ you two, but doesn’t realize he has to be in the photo for it to count. Lucifer still thinks it’s a cute picture

Beelzebub:

It takes Beel a while to come around to the fact that he might like you

Not because he doesn’t like you, but because he’s equally comfy being friends. Friends are fine, too.

Even as a friend he still gets that giddy rush when he holds you, that flood of warmth when he impresses you, so for a while he thinks he has the best of both worlds

When that balance starts to feel threatened, the realization creeps in

Then he realizes there’s no going back and if he doesn’t say anything, you get caught up with other people and he’ll miss you. You just won’t be around as much anymore!

When someone on the Fangol team starts getting a little too curious and close, the red flags go flying in Beel’s mind. He needs to tell you and tell you now!

Probably doesn’t have an extensive dating history and is, in general, the best sweet boi, so he’ll ask around for ideas. The second someone suggests a cupcake message or cake message, he’s done. No more ideas! That’s the best one!

To put his feelings in it, Beel decides to make the cupcakes himself. He buys enough to make 3 or 4 dozen cupcakes because he anticipates stress eating at least two batches

And the ugly ones. Can’t give you ugly ones!

He takes full advantage of Asmo or whoever getting you out of the house, throwing on a little apron and getting to work. Belphie supervises, occasionally scolding him

Beel eats a few cupcakes more than he’s supposed to and decides to draw frosting people so the space doesn’t feel empty

His frosting spelling isn’t that great. One of the words look weird. More than one, actually

Trying to write over it just makes extra frosting, unreadable globs

Beel eats that one, then realizes he messed up some of the topping, so he smooths it out and tries again

Belphie plays wingman, fully aware of his brother panicking over presentation and trying to spell (and not squeeze the life out of the frosting bag), and writes little love messages on the wrappers

It’s stuff he’s heard Beel say in his sleep for at least a week.

Beel resigns himself to a mash of cupcakes that are kind of readable and way less than what he planned to have. He doesn’t know Belphie’s done a gradual bait and switch of the cupcake liners since he’s eaten just as many as he’s made

You see a smiley face and the frosting people and it’s enough to melt your heart

Beel is speckled in flour and frosting (he’s got crumbs on the corner of his mouth), and he looks adorably awkward in the apron. He’s so nervous he’s in his demon form, wings buzzing frantically behind him.

It’s like he wants to take off and make nervous circles around you.

He stutters out an awkward ‘I like you’ and mumbles other things. Belphie, who’s curled up under the prep table, grumbles out ‘READ THE LINERS!’ before snuggling down again

You and Beel go on a cute little hunt to pick and read the wrappers, splitting cupcakes with each other.

At the end of it you’re very full and very happy. And Beel’s extra delighted because you smell (and taste) like cupcakes.

Belphegor

Does he like you like you, or just like the fact that you don’t bother him?

In his book, you’re not terrible. Not annoying. You don’t wake him up on purpose, and you seem to get along with Beel.

Not bad, right?

Maybe this means he just doesn’t have high standards?

He knows he wouldn’t mind napping with you. Maybe that means he likes you?

One night, when he’s hit that ‘slept all day’ high and he’s awake and thinking it over. He asks Beel about it because who else would know him better than his twin?

Then he learns. OH BOY DOES HE LEARN!

Apparently he talks about you in his sleep? And he blushes? CUDDLES THE PILLOW?

Beel is hardly worried about the threats, the finger pointing in his face, and the way he’s bobbing his head like a bull about to charge. It’s just standard little brother things! Very cute!

Belphegor feels bad and a little unworthy to date you. His sin is very taxing and he spends a lot of the time napping. Is it really a good idea?

It’s a heavy issue to think about, and he dreams.

Belphegor has always believed that dreams are a way for you to work out the issues you have when you’re awake, so he’s not surprised to dream about you

The dreams are so vivid, so heart-warming, and he’s so happy. It’s all about you and him--snippets of dates that he can’t completely see. He’s not sure where you’re at or what led up to the moments, but they’re all a happy, quiet cuddle that gives him more energy than he’s felt in a while

He knows, then, that he should at least ask you. When he gets his next burst of rested energy, he’s going to confess

Belphegor’s nearly scared straight out of bed when he sees you tentatively approaching it. He musters up enough concentration to hold a conversation and is VERY embarrassed to find he basically called you here

Almost like a subliminal message, or sharing a dream, you just simply had to come and tell him about the adorably awkward dream. It was very cuddly and kind of put you in a cuddling mood

Belphegor’s got a major case of sleep brain but it sounds like YOU actually just confessed

Plays the big card--go big or go home!--”If you like me, get in the bed.”

Realizes about 3 seconds later how that sounds. Is very embarrassed and wants to hide under his blankets and die.

He’s already wormed under them and is firmly cocooned (so he doesn’t have to look you in the face or see if you stay) “You know...if you like me. Want to cuddle and stuff...like a couple...”

He feels your weight spread out along his bed and scoops you up like a blanket monster. It’s like being swallowed by a fitted sheet, blanket coming at you from all sides, and you both laugh about it.

Belphegor is a big fan of the private cuddle pile

#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmodeus #Belphegor x Reader #Belphie x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader

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aweecrush · 3 years

Text

Prologue

Tuesday, October 16th 2007

“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re actually in the fucking plane - took you long enough! If I had known it took a wedding to get your arse back home, I would have had a couple by now, for God’s sake .”

“Michelle, you promised you wouldn’t start! ” Clare’s reproachful voice rose.

“Aye, first, I didn’t promise shit, and second, I told you, she’s not chickening out so chill out - right Erin?”

Despite the culpability and shame pricking at her skin, her heart warmed at their traditional bickering she wished she’d hear more often. At their voices. And, most of all, at knowing that in a few hours, she’d get to hear them for real.

Feck, she’d missed these eejits.

“Well, I’m not actually in the plane yet, we’re waiting to board. And then I still have that stupid long flight, and then the stupid long wait at stupid London, so don’t wait up - but yes, I’m definitely on my way,” she promised, earning herself an earful of high pitched cackles and happy swears.

Her heart welled up.

“So, how is the bride doing? She wasn’t home when I called earlier, and all Mammy could talk about was how the caterer was driving her crazy and how aunt Sarah almost set her own hair on fire trying a new hairdo she’d like to nail for the ceremony.”

Michelle snorted. “ Yeah, hilarious so it was. You should have seen your dad’s face, mental. ”

“It was terrifying,” Clare corrected, apparently still shaken.

Then, perked up. “Orla’s going to look so cute though - I can’t wait for you to see the dress!” Erin tried to ignore the sting of not having been there for such an important moment.

“We’re still trying to convince her out of drawing anything on it, but I’m not sure we’ll win this one, to be honest. Also, we’ve got everything almost ready to go for the bachelorette party, although I do need you to help me stop Michelle from bringing the tons of drugs she wants to, because - ”

“For feck’s sake Clare, Orla would love it! The girl is tying the knot, she deserves to get properly shit faced.”

“She said she wanted something small!”

“She said she would have liked to have a little something with just the five of us the night before. She never said anything about the actual bachelorette party being small - or fucking boring for that matter!”

“Just the five of us?”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, stupid that she was. At the other end of the line, the girls went uncharastically silent, and Erin cursed herself.

Feck.

“I mean, that’s grand. It’s cool, I thought it was just going to be one big night for the bachelorette party before the big day, but - I mean, that’s even better! Grand - cool.”

Christ on a bike, that was pathetic. She was.

“Yeah...The thing is, Orla wanted a wee night with just us Derry girls the night before the bachelorette party, hanging at the bar and stuff you know, because - Well, just because.” Poor Clare was rambling now, in a typical panicked Clare kind of way. “And we thought - Well, then we thought about it, and it turns out it’s not going to work, just timing-wise and stuff, so - “

“So the point is we dropped it.”

“Right. Yep.”

Again, silence, only betrayed by the hammering in her chest that she hoped her friends wouldn’t hear over her cellphone.

“Oh okay, well - that’s a shame.” Her casual slash over the top fake disappointment tone did nothing to help convince anyone, of course, herself included. She winced.

She promised herself it wasn’t going to be like this, though. She wasn’t going to ruin this for anyone - not a chance.

For God’s sake, catch yourself on Erin.

Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside, Erin took a deep breath. “In any case, I’m sure it’ll all be fine - really fine.”

There were another few seconds of silence, and she could just picture the worried look they were sharing - probably very similar to the one they had that particular, fateful day. To the one they had again when she told them she was moving away. Then -

“You bet it’ll be fine - feck, it will be absolutely brilliant is what it is! Wait til you see my dress, Erin - my tits look amazing in it.”

As it turned out, running all over the city for work for the past ten days and dangerously flirting with the limits of sleep deprivation did have a perk: her whole, eight hours flight, Erin slept like a log.

(Truth was, she could have done without the look of contempt and the ‘Miss? You have drool on your face’ from that stupid flight attendant who woke her up when they landed, but still - all in all, it went well.)

The wait at Stansted airport, however, was pure hell.

Because of the jitters, mostly.

Growing up, despite how much she loved to complain about them, Erin had never actually considered living away from her family. Well, not that far, at least - she’d always known she would leave Derry after high school, which they did, and it was glorious. War or not, she had a pretty nice life as a child and then a teenager, but those college years and the first ones that had followed - they were the best of her life.

Still, it was only Belfast at the time, and Belfast was a two hours drive from home. Erin knew that at some point, she wanted to go out in the world, maybe live abroad for a while, but this - New-York, all on her own, away for so long? She hadn’t planned that. Didn’t, really - it all went so fast, in the end.

It was a good thing too, because if she had stopped and thought about it for too long, she wasn’t sure she would have gone through with it.

(Then again, what else could she have done?)

Despite her dreams, and her need for independence, and her eagerness to see the world, Erin had never thought that she’d leave her family for that far, for that long. Orla had come to see her once, thank goodness, but Jesus -

On the last picture her Ma had sent her, Anna had grown so much, she almost looked like a wee woman. She’d forgotten the exact colour of that lipstick aunt Sarah wore all the time, she couldn’t remember each wrinkle on Granda’s beautiful face like she used to, and sometimes, she was afraid she was forgetting her Da’s smell and what her Ma’s voice sounded like in real life. She’d missed them so much, it hurt (a lot, often).

She just couldn’t wait any longer to get back to that crazy bunch, and those last, endless few hours? Torture so it was.

She was half considering starting to work on her next article to pass the time when across from her, Erin spotted a young couple bickering, their luggages next to their seats. She was a beautiful thing, red hair tied in a messy bun, and his brown curls fell above his forehead, all messed up.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could make out their accents. He looked like he was trying to make her smile, leaning over so he could kiss her, and she was doing everything she could not to laugh, weakly trying to escape his arms around hers, her pretense wavering with every second.

They were probably in their early twenties, just out of uni or something. They looked happy.

Her chest tightened, and suddenly, Erin felt the urge to cry.

Well, that was quick.

Shite. Shite shite shite.

It was okay, though - it was all fine. She knew herself by now - she was emotional as heck most days of the year (crazy, her Ma would say), but the day of her returning back home, with accumulated fatigue and an Atlantic crossing flight in her feet? Of course she'd get misty eyed at the first occasion. At anything, this just happened to be what, because they were very cute and - it was a coincidence, nothing more.

It was nothing.

The girl laughed, though, giving him a small slap over the head before she let him nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. She brushed his forehead with her lips, a soft smile on them, and kept talking.

It was difficult, then, not to think about another time, another long wait, at the Bali airport this time. It was difficult, not to think about another English fella with wild, brown curls.

It was impossible, really, not to think about him.

Memories of a perfect trip came flooding back, of burnt skin and drunken smiles, of blue waters and green eyes. The tickles of the sun, the softness of his fingers over her exposed neck, her naked arms. Sweaty bodies pressed together during hot nights, slow breathes, so many new sights discovered, fingers intertwined.

Sometimes, the memory of his face hidden against her neck was so vivid, she could almost feel it. Just like she did now.

Her breath caught.

Sweet suffering Jesus.

Experience had taught her that she had to stop now - needed to, really, before her mind wandered to anything more. To everything else, every little thing that could, and would, make her heart ache even more than it already did.

(That’s another thing she’d found out: as it happened, the expression “heartbreak” wasn’t, in fact, an overly dramatic turn of words. Quite accurately descriptive it was, actually.

She often wondered when hers would stop feeling like it had been ripped into a million little pieces, but she was starting to lose faith that it ever would.)

Of course, she should have seen it coming, she knew that. She had, in fact. True to herself, she’d tried to ignore it, but she knew full well that with her coming back home, it would come back.

This painful, sneaky way every little thing seemed to remind her of before - of a life that felt so far away now.

Over the months, the many months since she’d been gone, she’d gotten it almost under control. Everyday life brought its distractions, particularly in a city like New-York: running between brunches and dinners, partying with her cool American friends, writing for a newspaper in the Big Apple, it was easy, forgetting what you wanted to, if only for so long. She was becoming a real life city girl, a full time one, and that was exactly what her busy brain - her treacherous heart - needed.

With time, every sight, every sound, every smell no longer reminded her of home - the place, the person. With time, she’d moved on.

Yes, sometimes - often - she’d wavered, but that was normal: having been close to someone meant that they lived with you forever, she couldn’t help that. At some point, it would just die down enough that she’d just be able to call it the past without her insides hurting.

(She thought it would, with Matt. Maybe not with the others before him, they were just passing through - but with him, she thought it would. She couldn’t really explain how it all made the permanent weight on her chest even heavier instead, somehow.)

But it hadn’t died down yet, and even though it was normal and okay and to be expected, six weeks ago, Erin had booked her tickets, and six weeks ago, she had lost the grip over the carefully built barriers she’d made sure to rise in the meantime for - well, self-preservation, really.

It started small. The song that had played this one special night, resonating through Starbucks as she waited for her drink. That sweatshirt her colleague bought one day that reminded her of another one. That scarf in the store that looked so much like Doctor Who’s.

But then...Then, it was every day, every damn day, just like the beginning - even worse, if she was being honest. Up until yesterday, when she boarded that damn plane.

Up until now, in this stupid airport where she didn’t want to cry.

Arms tightened around her own chest, Erin willed herself not to, even though it was becoming evident that there was no ignoring the memories and the aching now. Even though, just like she feared, it was becoming perfectly clear that there was no escaping anymore, no pretending that she wasn’t the worst person in this Goddamn country, that the worst hadn’t happened.

Even though she could feel the fear mixed with longing and excitement and dread and a million other emotions that had painfully, permanently taken residence in her stomach now that she was home.

(That had taken roots there ever since the day she left, so it did.)

Shite.

Sitting back up, Erin shook herself. No, no, no, no - she could do this.

She’d grown, she’d prepared herself. She’d even planned what to say if...She was ready. Responsable, mature, and ready. And she won’t have to face this alone.

In a few hours, she was going to see the people who raised her. In a couple of days, wee Orla was getting married. She’d come up with excuses after excuses not to come home, even for Christmas - babbling something about being overloaded with work even though it made her heart ache to know she’ll be alone for the holidays for the first time in her life. Even though she knew full well her Ma didn’t buy a single word, very aware of the real reason she was staying away. She didn’t say a single word, though, and Erin was grateful.

No more, though.

For months and months, Erin had found reasons to stay away for the exact reasons that were chipping away at her heart more and more by the second, but now her baby cousin was getting married, and she’d see her family, and they’ll hold her close, and she’ll find a way to bury all the stuff that was so, so much more difficult to ignore now that she was coming home.

Maybe - maybe it will be difficult, but they’ll be here to help her through it. She’ll be there for her family, and they’ll be here for her.

Fighting the urge to reach out for the folded photograph in her wallet (the one that brought so much comfort and so much else she’d rather avoid at the same time, the one she clinged to but pretended she didn’t), Erin just breathed, and moved to change seats.

Everything would be fine, in the end. It will be grand.

Except her family didn’t come.

No one did.

It was eight thirty in the morning, and, her cellphone penibly stuck between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to zip her jacket to protect herself from the freezing cold, Erin tried to swallow her disappointment.

“Aye I’m sorry love, it looks like you’re going to have to get a cab,” her Ma announced before yelling something at her Granda in the distance.

Erin couldn’t help but notice the fact that she didn’t seem that sorry, not at all in fact. “Your Da was going to come get you, but there’s a problem of some kind where the reception is, and he had to take Orla.”

Erin nodded, even though her Ma couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just - ”

“We’ll give you the money back for the cab when you arrive. Alright, I gotta go love, we’re checking the hair accessories for the big day - see you in a bit.” And with that, she hung up.

Well.

Here went her big welcome home, eh.

Again, it was nothing, though, she reasoned. She was a grown up now, of course she understood that something had come up, and that this all delayed their big reunion from only an hour, tops. So really, there was no reason to get upset.

None.

She wished she wasn’t getting upset.

From what she told her, Clare would be putting together gift bags now, and there was absolutely no doubt that Michelle was still snoring. Pocketing her cell as best as she could, Erin bit the inside of her cheek and started looking for the only plan B she had left, ignoring the burning in her eyes. It really was nothing - she’ll be fine.

It didn’t matter that she took forever to get a cab, for some reason, or that her luggage fell over her foot when they tried to put it in the truck, or that her handbag crashed on the floor and spilled everywhere.

Erin did know she tended to be over dramatic - and yes, maybe borderline crazy, Ma wasn't completely wrong - but she was more mature now, so instead of getting riled up, instead of being crushed by the fact that her family didn’t seem to have missed her as much as she did them, and that the land she grew up on was sending her sign after sign that she wasn’t welcomed back, Erin breathed.

Instead of being violently overwhelmed by memories at every corner of the place she’d grown up in, the place where they met and it all began, she did - she tried to breathe, slowly, carefully, squeezing her scarf in her hand a little too tight.

(That was another thing about your close ones not coming to get you at the airport after you left your country to run away: there wasn’t much to distract you from the memories you were running away from.)

She wouldn’t cry. She was just tired, and being stupid, and she wasn’t coming home with puffy red eyes - no way.

They passed the mall they all used to hang out at, and her throat tightened so much, it felt like the air had left the inside of the car. She saw the movie theater he was always so eager to bring her to in the distance, and a familiar pang of missing shot through her chest. Her heart twisted that particular way when they drove by the hiding spot of their early days, but even though she wondered how she was still holding her tears, she did.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up her street, and Erin hadn’t shed one silly tear. She’d done it. She could do it.

By the time she pushed their small barrier and started for the couple of stairs, all Erin wanted was to collapse into bed and black out. Orla and Da wouldn’t be home, Ana would probably still be asleep, and given the day and time, Grandda would have gone for his walk. She’d give a big hug to Ma and Aunt Sarah, pretext a headache, and go lie down.

As she struggled to get her bags through the door while keeping the damn thing open, Erin shouted, cursing herself at how strangled her voice sounded. “I’m home!”

Finally managing to get everything and herself inside, she collapsed on the wall behind her, only now taking in the wallpaper, the coat hangers, the shoes by the entry.

Damn - she was home.

The emotion was so striking, she didn’t quite have the time to stop the tears from welling up in her yes, taken by surprise.

She moved before it all became too much and shrugged off her coat, feeling her insides warm at the familiar surroundings, and yet her heart ache at not having the usual voices that went with it, the faces that she wanted so much to see. She shouted again, but there was still no response.

Ma and aunt Sarah must have had something to do, then. It was fine, she thought as she pushed the living door open. It was, she’d just grab a glass of water and -

“SURPRISE!”

And just like that, Saturday Night started playing from somewhere, overcoming the shouting and the party whistles that had broken the silence so suddenly, Erin had jumped out, her back hitting doorframe behind her. There was colours and and noise and arms waving in every direction, and Erin vaguely realized that she was covered in confetti that matched the balloons and the hats.

Somehow, she noticed that they all had one: Michelle, up on the sofa, Clare, jumping in place at the other side of the room, Orla and the giant teddy bear she was holding. Anna, her pink one stuck on top of her mass of blond hair. Aunt Sarah and Grandda, both holding hands and arboring the same green one. Her Ma, her Da, tears in their eyes, huge grins on their faces, red and yellow ones falling over.

Her brain had stopped functionning, so she couldn't be sure, but Erin thought that her legs were giving out.

Before they did, though, both her parents closed the distance and hugged her close, whispering things she couldn't quite make sense of just yet. Their voices in her ear, their smell surrounding her, Erin broke her promise to herself, and finally let the tears come flooding as she held them back as close as she could.

She was home.

#erin x james #james x erin #jerin #derry girls #fanfiction #mine

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prolestariwrites · 3 years

Text

Triple Play

➔Fandom: Resident Evil ➔Rating: Explicit ➔Characters: Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira

➔Summary: Chris and Jill have been partners for years, but he never actually considered her a woman before. When he finds out more about her dating life than he ever wanted to know, it starts to make him re-evaluate his own (lack of) love life. Beta read by @solynacea.

My first RE fic, and of course it’s a smut oneshot! Hope you all like it. It’s also on AO3, so visit me there!

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Chris remembers that Jill is a woman about two years after Raccoon City. They are finishing up a briefing and looking forward to a few days off when Capriotti makes a joke about Jill wearing lipstick. He hadn’t noticed himself, and turns his head to see that she is, indeed, wearing some color of pink on her lips. She’s also wearing eye makeup, subtle but there, and a shimmering top under her jacket. He guesses he didn’t pay close enough attention earlier, just acknowledging her when she arrived and launching into the gains they’d made until the meeting wrapped up.

Capriotti cracks a joke about a hot date, and Jill replies slyly, “Don’t you know it.”

Chris frowns as the others guys laugh. “Who is it?” Capriotti pushes.

“Yeah, I asked you out like five times,” Sami complains.

Jill makes a face. “How do you know it’s a guy?”

“It’s not?” Capriotti howls, half laughing and half in shock. “You’re not serious!”

“You afraid I’m getting more pussy than you?” she jokes.

The group continues to laugh but Chris tunes out. Jill is…? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but how didn’t he know? Should he have known? He wishes he didn’t know now.

He gives her a little signal as the group heads out and she walks over to where he stands at the head of the table. “What’s up?” she asks.

“Uh…” Chris clears his throat, looking up to check and make sure the rest are gone. “I was just wondering… I mean, I didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

Jill’s eyes go wide and then she bursts out laughing. “Are you kidding me? I was just messing with those guys.”

“Okay. Not that you couldn’t be. I was just surprised you hadn’t mentioned it.”

Chris’s face is hot but Jill just shrugs. “Not like we have time to date. Or talk about dating. I guess it never came up.” She laughs again and shakes her head. “But no, I’m not a lesbian. If I change my mind, though, you’ll be the first to know.”

She’s teasing him, he can tell that much, but he stammers a bit as he asks, “So, who are you seeing? Someone I know?”

“Yes, actually,” she replies, with a little grin. “Carlos Oliveira.”

“Oliveira?” Chris repeats, his brows drawing together. “The guy from Raccoon City? The Umbrella guy?”

“He’s not the Umbrella guy,” Jill corrects. “But yes, him. He’s with the UN now doing anti-terrorism work. And we actually both have time off together for once, so I’m spending it with him.”

Chris nods, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “Didn’t realize you had stayed in touch.”

She gives a shrug. “We see each other when we can. I like him. He’s not at all like most of the guys I meet. They either want to see Miss Badass become their sex slave or want me to step on their balls.”

He goes red again at the idea. “What?”

“You know what I mean. But Carlos just wants me. It’s refreshing.” She tilts her head for a second, considering him. “You should have some fun while we have a few days off. Go out on a date or something.”

“I date,” he argues. Jill gives him a look that shows she definitely doesn’t believe that at all, so he hurries to clarify, “Plus, like you said, we don’t have time for it.”

She pats him on the arm and turns for the door. “Anything else? I have reservations.”

“No, but does that mean we’re not meeting Tuesday?” he asks.

Jill shoots him a look over her shoulder. “No, we’re not meeting on Tuesday. I’m on vacation. As are you. So no check-in this week. Plus,” she adds with a grin, “if I’m lucky, I won’t be able to walk by then.”

He makes a face, and she laughs as she heads out the door. The room is blessedly silent, but that leaves Chris with his thoughts, which are now filled with Jill on a date and that is just too weird for him. So he picks up his stuff and heads out, hurrying back to his apartment.

Yet all the way up the elevator his brain can’t stop thinking. Jill, and that guy? His partner Jill, Jill who could shoot a zombie right between the eyes at twenty yards, Jill who was the only one on the team who didn’t throw up in the sewer when they were chasing a monster that had been mutated with three different virus strains? Jill. Dating Carlos.

Chris had met him, of course, after Raccoon City. The second he had gotten word of what went down, he caught the first flight back to the States to find the rest of S.T.A.R.S. Hearing that his sister had headed that way only made his panic worse, so when he arrived at the Red Cross encampment, he was only able to stay long enough to find out that almost everyone was dead before he was getting pulled to go work. Jill had seemed fine, shaken and exhausted but okay, and she had introduced him to Carlos, saying he had saved her. But Chris’ eyes went immediately to the red and white emblem on his shoulder, and barely heard another word as he promised to check in once he got a hold of Claire.

That guy? It’s so hard to picture. He’s not even Jill’s type. Jill’s type is…

Chris draws a blank. She’s mentioned dating before, right? He frowns as the elevator slows. Maybe, maybe not? But he knows for sure she’d never go for that type, the tall-dark-and-handsome or whatever. Too cliche.

Why do you care? his brain scoffs. Not like he’s interested, which he is not. Chris clears his throat, thinking that’s even weirder. Jill is… Jill. Not a sister really, not like Claire, because he doesn’t have the undeniable instinct to protect her at any cost. He doesn’t need to, because Jill can do fine on her own. Jill is his buddy. His partner. His pal. So why do you care?

“I don’t,” he says aloud, as the elevator doors open.

There are two agents on the other side who give him a funny look, and he sheepishly steps around them. He heads to his apartment in the officers’ building, relieved when he’s finally inside. Almost two weeks off, maybe a bit more if the world doesn’t end and they aren’t needed back immediately, and Chris decides he’s going to enjoy it. He’s going to relax and do some reading and… something. He’s got two weeks to figure it out.

Go out on a date or something.

He huffs at that as he moves around his kitchen, making some pasta. Date who? Nobody on the team, and everyone else is either under him or over him, so it’s all too awkward. There is the staff at the agency who keep the machine working, and he remembers Lisa from lab reception. “See? I date,” he says to the empty apartment. He had taken Lisa out to dinner after she had dropped some subtle hints at being interested, like “Do you want to get dinner sometime?” Chris grins smugly at himself as he stirs macaroni. The relationship didn’t really go anywhere after a few months; too hard to be away for days or weeks at a time, even though Lisa was good-natured about it. She was sweet in bed too, but not exactly his style. “I date,” he says again, as if to confirm.

The pasta and sauce are ready so he takes his bowl to the living room to find a game to watch. This is how you enjoy a vacation, he decides. Feet up, comfort food, America’s pastime on television. He sinks into the cushions as the third inning starts, feeling satisfied. Better this than getting all dolled up to go out, get sweaty, and meet someone for a night that goes nowhere.

Yet all that thinking about Jill and Carlos and Lisa has made him realize it has been a while. A real long while, and when he puts aside his empty bowl his mind starts to wander. His hand rubs against his crotch, soothing the erection growing underneath his sweats, and he thinks about Lisa. Lisa with the blond curls and the little dimple on her left ass cheek. She liked him on top, but he pictures her on his lap, dragging her fingers through his hair. It’s her hand that is fisting his cock, and Chris lets go a grunt as he lifts his hips to tug the waistband down enough to free it, giving in to the fantasy.

He sighs and tilts his head back, almost feeling her hair brushing his face as she strokes him boldly. But Lisa was never exactly bold in bed, so when he opens his mind’s eye it’s not her, but Jill on his lap. She’s wearing a t-shirt pulled too tight over her chest, and when his free hand reaches out to grab onto her hip, he realizes she’s wearing nothing else.

Jill says his name with her signature smirk before kissing him, and in his confusion he accepts. His hand moves faster, the end inevitable now, and he wonders how her lean body would feel against his, so much tighter and stronger than Lisa’s soft little self. His fingers dig into his thigh just as they would dig into her hip and he comes, pleasure sharp and intense and unexpected as it runs down his fingers.

Chris opens his eyes, breathing heavily as he shakes himself back to reality. “What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up slowly to reach for the box of tissues. He might as well be in goddamn eighth grade, getting lost in a vivid daydream like that and not having the sense to prep for cleanup. What the hell is wrong with him?

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Four days later, Chris is bored. A guy like him who is used to action doesn’t do well without anything to keep him occupied. He works out and goes shopping and works out some more, but after going down to the bar around the corner for a drink and dinner, he realizes that vacation isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And it’s too late now to call Claire and invite her somewhere, especially since she’s in California or something.

He needs to get out of this rut, so Chris makes a decision. He sends an email to the team and invites everyone over for poker the next night. He grins as one acceptance after another comes through, jokes ranging from Captain? You dying or something? to Get your money ready, making him chuckle. But then he is surprised when Jill emails him too: I’d love to come, alright if I bring Carlos?

It’s fine, he answers back, but what happened to not being able to walk?

It takes a full five minutes to get an answer back, and Chris smirks to himself at being able to surprise Jill Valentine. But eventually she does answer: I’m a girl of many talents. Damn her.

The next night is plenty fun. He splurges on the good beer and even an excellent bottle of bourbon, figuring if he can’t spend his salary on booze, what else is there? Peterson brings cigars and there are eight of them that wind up playing, including Carlos, who fits right in with the group well enough that Chris can pretty much ignore him and the way his hand sits on Jill’s thigh.

They play a few rounds but they end up talking more than looking at cards, so the game evolves into a proper party of drinking and stories. Chris orders pizza and when it arrives, the crowd gathers in his kitchen to eat and he realizes Jill is missing. He heads down the hallway to check the bathroom but finds it empty. So is his office, and curious, he pokes his head into the bedroom. That’s also empty, but he hears something in the master bath, and without even thinking he walks through the room and opens the door.

Chris finds them alright. Carlos is fucking her against his sink, their arms locked around one another, her shirt pushed up and her jeans dangling from one knee and his jeans in a puddle around his ankles. He comes to a stop as his eyes go wide, watching in a weird moment of frozen time, noticing how they’ve knocked over his little container of cotton swabs and that the mirror is steamed up from their breath. Then Jill gives a yelp that shakes him back to present, and he gets a quick glance of Carlos’ dick pulling out of her flushed folds before yelling, “Shit, sorry!” and promptly closing the door.

He is sure his face is red when he returns to the others, but they must assume it’s the alcohol because no one says anything. Jill and Carlos join them a few minutes later, and he feels distracted, not because of what they were doing, but because he is oddly curious if they finished or not.

The evening winds down and everyone helps clean up a bit before they say their goodbyes, and somehow he ends up alone with Jill and Carlos as the only ones left. “Let me help you with this stuff,” she says, and he notes the blush on her cheeks as she fills her arms with empty bottles and cups and walks to the kitchen.

Chris is about to go after her when Carlos pats him on the arm. “Hey, man,” he says. “Sorry about earlier.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” Jill reappears, laughing and shaking her head. “That was not the right place or time.”

“Didn’t think anyone would catch us if we snuck off,” Carlos offers, laughing too. “You scared the hell out of us though.”

“Sorry.” Chris chuckles, thinking that this should be awkward and glad that it’s not. “Hey, at least the place saw some action. Not like there’s a lot going on in that department.”

He gives another laugh, but the other two don’t find the humor. “Don’t say that,” Carlos replies. “Guy like you is probably beating the girls off with a stick.”

“Not exactly,” Chris says. He pushes a chair under the table to cover his embarrassment. “But really, it’s fine.”

“I take full responsibility.” Carlos puts a hand up as if swearing an oath. “It was all my idea. I just can’t keep my hands off her.”

“Carlos!” Jill scolds, holding her forehead in her hand.

He points at her with a grin. “Hey, it’s not my fault. You’re fucking gorgeous. And your ass in those jeans? I mean what is a man supposed to do with that?” He turns to Chris with a smile. “I mean, you know what I mean, right man?”

“Chris doesn’t think like that,” Jill teases. “He is too respectful.”

“Well you’re disrespectful in those jeans.”

“Carlos.”

“I don’t,” Chris interjects. They both turn from their fun to look at him, and he hurries on, “I mean, think that way about Jill.”

Carlos makes a face. “What? Are you telling me you two never…?”

“Never!” laughs Jill.

“I’m surprised,” he says. “I wouldn’t be able to do a thing if I looked at her all day.”

Chris shrugs. “Sorry. I just never thought of her like that.” He glances over, surprised that she is frowning. “What? Are you mad or something?”

“No,” she protests. “But you didn’t have to be so adamant about it.”

He opens his mouth to argue before he remembers that he did, in fact, think of Jill that way, just the other day, not three feet from where they were all standing. “So you want me to then?” he laughs.

Jill rolls her eyes. “I don’t care if you do or not. All I’m saying is that if you did, you wouldn’t have to be ashamed of it.”

Chris clears his throat. “We’re partners. Not exactly appropriate.”

She sighs and walks towards him, her arms folded. “Chris, when are you gonna get over bullshit like what’s appropriate? We spend our whole lives fighting biological weapons, killing monsters, saving people. Every single day. We leave here on each mission not knowing if we’re coming back. Not knowing who is going to get infected or shot or bitten, if you’re going to have to pull the trigger or if I am.” Jill is standing in front of him now, barely an inch away, and he searches her face, wondering when this turned serious. “So when I’m not killing monsters and hunting people who want to see me dead or worse, I’m going to do what I want. I’m not spending the time I do have worrying about what’s appropriate. And if I want to have sex with someone, then I’m going to fucking have sex.”

He gives a huff, not quite a laugh, not sure what she’s trying to say. “I understand,” he replies.

“Do you?”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I did think about you like that. Jerked off to it too.”

The words are out before he can stuff them back in, and his eyes go wide the second they are released. Panic rises in his throat for the longest second of his life as Jill’s mouth opens in an O of surprise; but then she smiles and presses her palms to his chest. “Did you really?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he chokes out.

Jill then does the last thing he expects. She leans up and kisses him, pressing her mouth firmly on his, one of her hands moving to cup the back of his neck. She should be slapping him or something, calling their supervisor, maybe shooting him? But instead she tilts her head and gives his lower lip a little bite, and a split second later he puts his arms around her waist and pulls her against him.

Her mouth opens and his follows suit. Her tongue rolls into his mouth, sliding along his, sending a little thrill up his spine. Chris realizes he had been right; she feels nothing like anyone else, her body somehow both solid and light as he presses her firmly to him.

Jill breaks the kiss suddenly, and he stares at her in shock as she blinks up at him. “Is this okay?” she asks.

Chris is about to answer when she looks to the side, and he realizes she’s talking to Carlos. He gives a start, releasing his grip; how did he forget Carlos was standing there and watching? The guy will deck him for sure.

Carlos nods, a little smile on his face. “Yeah. It’s all good.”

A million and one questions instantly flood his mind but her mouth is on his again, and Chris can’t deny the absolutely undeniable pull she has. Jill has always been like this, hasn’t she? Like a rocket, or an anchor, or a little beacon that pulses and makes people shut up and listen.

Which is what he should be doing now instead of listing adjectives in his head. “Sit,” she says, and Chris realizes she’s pulled him to the couch. Her hands push his shirt up and he helps her remove it before he sits, and Jill steps between his legs, leaning down to slide her touch along his arms.

“You good?” she asks, and her concern is almost touching.

“Yeah,” he replies.

He watches with great interest as she unbuttons her jeans and shimmies out of them, pulling her underwear down with them. Chris’ heart beats faster to see her slim thighs that curve up into perfect hips, his favorite part of a woman. Her stomach is flat with the hint of muscle underneath, her waist tiny and trim and making him start to get hard before his eyes even fall to the place between her thighs. As if she knows, Jill presses her hand against her sex, rubbing herself as she climbs onto his lap.

Her knees straddle him and she reaches for her shirt, but Chris stops her. This is it, his fantasy that he had conjured, and he takes a minute to just enjoy Jill Valentine half naked on his lap and the tight anticipation of what her chest is going to look like bare and what she is going to feel like sliding onto his dick. His hands press against her thighs and he slides them up, tracing the path his eyes took over hips and stomach and waist until he grazes the underside of her bra.

Jill shifts on his lap and Chris catches sight of Carlos. He is leaning against the table where they played cards on the other side of the room, just watching, his hand rubbing himself on the outside of his jeans. And fuck is that hot, knowing he’s watching and enjoying as he gets ready to fuck his girlfriend—what the fuck is wrong with him? He’s not this kind of guy, he doesn’t do kinky shit like this, he doesn’t get off on having sex in front of people or fucking his partner or having sex without at least buying dinner first and the pizza didn’t count at all.

“Hey,” Jill murmurs, tilting his chin up. “You still with me?”

“We really doing this?” he asks stupidly.

She snorts. “Yeah. If you want to.”

Fuck-shit-damn yes he wants to, his cock is like steel now at the very idea. He wants to do this. He wants to give up control and hand it over, stop playing by rules that don’t work and write some of his own. He wants to stop being in charge for one night and let someone else make decisions, wants to follow instead of lead, wants to be anyone other than Chris Redfield, special agent. He wants to fuck the girl every man wants as her boyfriend watches, and that nearly short circuits his thinking.

So maybe it’s not such a surprise that he says the dumbest sentence ever uttered, one that later he’ll think about and want to kick his own ass. “But you’ve already had sex tonight.”

Carlos chuckles from where he stands and Jill laughs along, stroking his cheek. “I got a special dispensation from the president,” she says, before sealing her mouth on his in a kiss.

She is cool and light against him, and Carlos was right, her ass is perfect. He grips her backside and squeezes as she grinds on his lap. Jill groans into his mouth and Chris realizes it’s because she’s rubbing herself against his erection, pressing up in a hard tent at the front of his jeans. Her fingers stroke against his shoulders and down his chest, running through the hair there and tracing along his pecs until they move lower, outlining his abdominals. She rolls her hips again and again and he can feel her getting his jeans wet, or maybe that’s him? Either way, he lets go of her long enough to open them, needing the relief more than ever.

Jill moves up on her knees to let him slide his pants down his hips, and she uses the opportunity to pull her t-shirt off over her head. Now she is left in only her bra, a lacy red thing that is so opposite of everything he knows about her that he can only stop and stare. He reaches up to carefully pull one cup down to expose her pink nipple, rubbing his thumb against the hard bud.

There is moisture leaking from the tip of his cock, and Jill uses it to stroke him, her hand tight as she pumps his length with quick, firm movements. Chris leans forward to lick her nipple, then presses his lips to her body, sucking lightly. Someone like her, would she even like the normal stuff? But she sighs in response, her other hand pressing to the back of his head to keep him there, and Chris uses his teeth and tongue to tease her until she is rubbing her sex against his.

Jill gives a groan, and he looks up to see that Carlos has moved behind her. He cups her chin up and to the side, his curls falling a bit to cover their kiss. Chris freezes momentarily, but then Carlos pulls away with a playful bite to her lip. “Does he feel good?” he murmurs.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Jill pants.

Carlos reaches into his pocket and pulls out a condom, handing it to her between two fingers. Jill snatches it and smiles at Chris as she tears it open, and he leans back on the couch, pressing his hands to the cushion. He watches in a sort of daze as she rolls it down his length, anticipation tightening his stomach as she leans up and angles him against her body before finally sinking down around him.

Chris lets out a hiss of pleasure as he throws his head back. Jill’s mouth is hot on his neck as she works to take him in, but with her slick body and the lubricated condom he slips inside with little trouble. She squeezes tightly around him, nearly taking his ability to breathe, before she pulls back and braces her hands on his shoulders.

When she starts to move, he risks a peek, groaning as the sight of her sends a jolt of excitement straight through his cock. Carlos is kissing her shoulder, undoing her bra and pulling it down her arms to toss it away before he grabs her bare breasts. She reaches up one arm to wrap around his neck as the other digs hard into Chris’ shoulder, and he watches in rapt attention as she fucks him while Carlos fondles her chest, delivering open mouthed kisses along her neck. Chris reaches up and presses his hands to her waist, dragging them over her hips as his eyes go downwards and giving another groan when his gaze falls on where they are joined, his cock disappearing in between her lips.

Jill stops the roll of her hips momentarily, keeping him buried inside of her, and he can feel her nearly pulsing around him. “She’s close,” Carlos says roughly, and Chris’ eyes snap up to his when he realizes he’s talking to him.

“Already?” he pants. Carlos nods, and Chris huffs a laugh. “So am I.”

Jill grins, opening her eyes as she bites her lower lip. “Can’t let this end too fast.”

She pushes off of him to stand, and Chris swallows a protest, his cock bobbing when it is released. But Jill grabs his pants and pulls them down his legs, and once they are removed she kneels on the carpet, carefully pulling the condom away. “I bet you taste delicious,” she says, and his eyes nearly roll back into his head when she lowers her lips onto his length.

Jill sucks him hungrily, making his head spin. Chris jerks upwards into her mouth, but fists his hands into the couch to let her work. Behind her, Carlos has pulled out his own cock and is stroking it freely, watching with dark, hooded eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans before going down on his knees.

As Carlos pushes her thighs apart and pulls her hips upwards, her moan vibrates along his cock as she swallows him completely. Her eyes squeeze shut as she sucks for as long as she can before coming up for breath, panting against his wet length as Carlos starts to fuck her from behind. “Slow,” she pants, and Carlos instantly eases his pace. Her eyes meet Chris’ and stay there as she rolls her tongue around the head of his cock; then she is swallowing him again, the sensation nearly driving him mad with desire. It strikes him that he never understood before why someone would want it like this, least of all a woman, finding porn like this vulgar and strange: but now he realizes that it’s because she’s in control, with two men ready to worship her body, and Chris is willing to give her anything in this moment.

Soon he is close again, and he hisses her name. Jill pulls off and grips his cock, stroking him quickly as her mouth drops down to press her tongue against his sac. Carlos starts to move faster, drawing a whine from Jill’s throat, and when she shudders against him, Chris realizes she’s coming. It sends him right over the edge, his body tightening almost painfully before his seed spills out in a great spurt that she quickly moves her mouth to swallow. Carlos holds her firmly by the waist as she trembles, but Chris can only focus on her lips sliding along his cock in time with the pulsing that rocks deeply through him. He lifts his hips to push in further with the final waves of pleasure, and Jill swallows him with a sigh that she releases when he finally slides his cock from her mouth.

Carlos pulls her closer to him, and he muffles a groan against her shoulder as he jerks his hips. Jill looks up at Chris, their eyes locking as she licks her lips, and Chris swallows thickly, knowing Carlos is finishing inside of her. His erection is softening, but not nearly as fast as it usually does, and when she turns her face to kiss Carlos and he watches her tongue slide into his mouth, his cock jerks uncomfortably.

She laughs a bit when Carlos finally releases her. “Damn,” Carlos sighs, rubbing her arms. “So fucking hot. Told ya, man.”

He is grinning at Chris, who nods, rubbing the palm of his hand on his forehead. “Yeah,” he agrees lamely.

It feels so damn awkward now, but the other two don’t seem fazed, climbing to their feet as they chuckle together. Carlos yanks up his jeans before grabbing Jill, pulling her into a deep kiss as Chris looks up and watches. He remembers how he couldn’t believe they’d be together just days ago, and now he knows what an absolute idiot he is.

“Carlos and I are driving down the coast tomorrow,” Jill says, turning to look at him as Carlos kisses her neck. “Do you want to come? Spend a few days on the beach?”

“With you two?” he asks stupidly. Carlos lifts his head and Chris holds up a hand. “Yeah. Dumb question. Sorry.”

He stands awkwardly, wanting to put on some clothes, but Jill slides her hand over his hip. “Well? Do you want to come?”

The question makes his neck heat, and he nods. “Sure. Why not.”

“Good,” Carlos says.

They banter a bit as they get dressed, Chris just listening as he tries to figure out what to say. He spots the condom on the floor and quickly picks it up, and when he returns from throwing it away Carlos is at the door, grabbing his jacket. “Hey,” Jill says, stepping up to press her hand on his chest, just like she had before. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Chris answers. “I’m fine.”

“Be ready by ten.” Then she gives him a wink and they head out the door, Carlos slinging his arm around her shoulder as he gives a wave.

The door shuts behind them, leaving the apartment in silence and Chris standing with his pants half undone. “See? I have sex,” he says to the room.

#resident evil #chris redfield #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #re #fanfiction #re fanfic

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hollowisthyname · 3 years

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🖊 Rhys!

Rhys!! Rhys my beloved!!!!! definitely one of my favorites (yes I will say this abt all of them, yes it is always true), I have the clearest like.... picture of them in my mind I guess? though I'm thinking of making all of them look less human and that'd def change their design some so. ANYWAY LET'S GO

[infodump under the cut]

so! Rhys Myers, some sort of water spirit and best friend/protector of Cory!! it's kinda hard to know where to start with them.... I have so much and yet so little. but when all else fails, physical descriptions are a good starting point :D

Rhys is fairly tall (currently I have them at 5'8 but I think they're gonna end up taller), and very, very, blue. bc water spirit. basically; their skin is light blue, their eyes are dark/navy blue, and their hair is like medium blue? but it's shimmery and has a lot of different shades of blue in it (I'll find the actual colors for all of these later, idk how to do it on a phone). their hair is basically a waterfall. it's long, nearly down to their feet,and while I haven't yet decided whether it's a real (magical) waterfall or an illusion of one, that's certainly what it looks like. they wear light-colored ripped jeans and a black shirt that's kinda like a tank top but no sleeves and made out of a cooler material? not sure what it's called. they don't wear shoes, and don't particularly like clothes in general.

Rhys themself is.... an interesting character, I think. they're very sarcastic and witty, and they get defensive p easily, but they also make a point not to show any real emotion to people they don't know well. the way they act isn't reserved exactly, but they're closed off. in general they're very playful, and while some of their pranks can be kind of mean they don't hurt people who they don't think deserve it. but they have a very strong sense of right and wrong which can lead them to do some bad things to people they're angry at. (it's kinda hard for me to describe their personality, I have a very vivid picture in my mind but I can never find the words :( hopefully this made sense!!)

their backstory- which still isn't fully worked out yet btw, some of it doesn't make total sense so I'm probably going to change a lot of it later- is basically that their parents were..... neglectful? and they were given a lot more responsibility than they could really handle since they were little. namely, being the primary caretaker of six or so little siblings for most of their life (not all six since the whole time, they were born a year or two ahead of some and then they also have half-siblings they take care of that came along later) they met Cory when they were eight and he was six when his parents hired them as his babysitter (their parents made them apply for the position for the money, they're tall and they lied about their age plus they acted v mature for their age so it was convincing. also Cory's parents didn't really care) the two of them didn't really get along at first. Cory was wary of anyone who his parents had chosen to take care of him so while he was sweet as usual he was also pretty distant and didn't trust Rhys much. Rhys was just pissed to have to take care of another child, and maybe a little bit jealous of Cory (bc the way his family was they were like the "perfect family" on the outside but when you look into it more it falls apart y'know). but they got to like each other from like interacting a bunch and realizing they're not bad people and also probably some more specific stuff I have to come up with. the two of them run away together after a few years (why are all my characters exiles/runaways. why is this a thing I do) and meet up with everyone else over a period of a couple years maybe? I really don't know how that's gonna happen but I'm trying not to rush it asdfgfds

various other facts about Rhys: they're nonverbal (and also deaf maybe haven't decided), and talk w sign language they're aro/ace!! I associate the song Can't Sleep Love with them a lot as like their thought process before they knew abt queer stuff and were confused as to why they weren't attracted to anyone. I have like a whole animatic planned out in my head but I'll prolly never make it bc I can't animate :( they'd admit this over their dead body but they cry a lot at movies and shows and stuff. if someone finds out they claim it's bc water and stuff but really they just have a lot of emotions (/lh, I am exactly the same way) strong sense of right and wrong =/= refusal to do like. illegal shit. they have and will break many laws and hurt people who r assholes to them or their friends. their moral compass is not at all in line with the law and I love that about them

I'm sure I have more stuff abt them somewhere but I can't think of it off the top of my head and also this is really long now so I'm gonna stop here!! sry this took so long I've been working on it for nearly a week and I just did like 90% of it within the last few hours?? I do not know how to write things hope you like this and it makes sense and stuff!!!! I love this character sm ashgfd

#ranger rambles #icarus infodumps #oc infodumps #i *will* have a personal tag for every one of my names #/hj #ranger is stolen directly from yttd 😌#also im gonna keep answering ur asks i promise!!#just takes me a while #bc my motivation is shit #but i love talking abt them :D

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scobbe · 3 years

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Bear with me here, this is an odd thing and will get odder by the end but maybe it has happened to you.

So mentally anticipating Monday with the organist, I’ve been having the worst time visualizing her in my head. You know, like you have imaginary conversations to prepare yourself, but most of the time lately the person I’m talking to in my head isn’t anything like how the organist actually is at all; this woman in my head is much older and much older-seeming, and much more like a “normal” woman, without that youthful gay je ne sais quoi. This woman in my head makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know who she is but she is so real I feel like I’ve known her from somewhere. But she is not someone I would choose to spend time with the way I have so eagerly chosen to spend time with M.

And I have seen M every Sunday but two since June, someone I’ve observed from afar and had conversations with and I must have spent a good hour and a half with, at least, at the picnic Sunday. Like from Jenga on we were usually within 10 feet of one another and that’s with a frisbee involved. She has a striking boyish youthfulness about her and a very sparky energy, and though I don’t really know her yet, I do know she is not the kind of faded, tired and graying woman who might enter the mind at the words “church organist in her late 50′s.”

But that’s kind of what I keep seeing in my head, a sort of general stereotype of the person I would expect, who would probably be a disappointment to me and a better friend for my mother. I keep having to look at the picnic photos on Facebook to remind myself who I am actually dealing with, who I really spoke to, and what she really said to me.

It’s interesting though, that this is the kind of thing Faraway Jane has challenged me with all along, that the vast majority of the time the image I have of her in my mind is “off” in a way that distances me, that puts me off her. I get these vivid perceptions in dreams or sometimes when I’m very quiet and open my mind towards her, but I can’t hold on to them, they are a flash of light then quickly fade and get distorted in one way or another. So I find some actress who reminds me of that essence of her and make her my lock screen on my phone, because that’s all I really can do.

(This happened also to an extent in my writing, with the character somewhat based on Faraway Jane, in that all along I was picturing her not quite as truly female as she actually would be, which was putting a huge damper on all the chemistry, and I didn’t even realize it until it was corrected. I’m trying very hard to “see” her better this time around.)

Since I was a teenager I’ve been attached to the verse “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then, face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12) because it always described how it was with matters of Faraway Jane. But now I’m experiencing it with a Real Person whom I Actually Know and it is very disturbing.

To get weirder about it, ever since I listened to C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters, which records the letters of one demon advising another demon on how to doom a man’s soul to hell, I’ve experimented with the idea that there is indeed some native evil force in our world trying to break down our relationships and discourage our progress in very subtle ways, through anxious thoughts and mistaken perceptions and spirals of misery, and it is very interesting to note these kinds of things in your head and respond with the old, “Get behind me, Satan.” Like it really can do wonders. And I’m like, Faraway Jane has always been a miraculous gift to me and has kept me alive at some points in my life, so what kind of destructive force would want to throw a wrench in the works? It’s certainly not my intentions. And likewise with the organist, where would the motivation come from for putting me off her, for making me fear she’s just going to be the same kind of disappointment so many others have been? All I want in the world is for us to become mutually-supportive besties.

It is really interesting when you take your fears and neuroses and locate their source outside yourself. And if you can, shut them away, even for a few moments, and see things how they really are. I mean, as well as we are capable. The truly good things do become a little clearer then, and can be acted upon with clearer intentions. There is so much noise and darkness in the way, but when you know deep down something is Good with a capital G, what else would want to tear it down but its opposite?

Highly recommend reading The Screwtape Letters. It provides a very different and helpful way of perceiving the world and our own mental activity, and has been more useful to me than a bagload of positive-thinking self-help motivational stuff. Sometimes you’ve just got to say, “It’s a demon,” go look at something that renews your hope, and get on with it.

#no possible way to tag this #going to sound even weirder but #I don't think this happened with the priest because she is incredibly well protected in herself #like she puts the work in to be so #this is why I am driven to go to the healing eucharist where we get anointed with oil #there is such *remarkable* clarity in that moment #in a very deep way #what I am saying is that there is something Good in this world and something that wants the Good disrupted #and it all becomes more and more obvious as I experience these things in this context #with real people in a real place #like I have had notions of these things in my interior world for so long #and now I'm like whoa this is the same feelings in a real-world context none of this is fiction after all #weird stuff on Thursday #you know maybe this is why we all take photographs #and save messages #to remind us #when the demons get in

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softboyscully · 4 years

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Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating.

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”

#public school #percy jackson #percabeth #my childhood #you dont have to read this but i felt like posting it lol #if you've read this far #i applaud you #thanks for listening to my meaningless shit #im gonna be a comedian #school #school stories #adhd #kind of

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