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e-wills-afterhours · 2 years

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Affairs Of The Heart, Chapter 3

chapters 1 | 2

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Another month came and went. Astrid turned eighteen, and she still had not told the other riders of her arranged marriage to Stefnir. Doing so would not change the truth, but her intended was pressuring her to be forthcoming for the wrong reasons, so she continued to drag her heels about it.

"It's part of growing up, Astrid. Sometimes, you have to let go of old friends in the interest of making new ones and moving on with your life," Stefnir said; and Astrid found his tone condescending.

"So says the guy who's had the same friends since he was born," she scoffed.

"Why are you so determined to to hang on to them? Do you really think you'll be as involved with them and that dragon academy nonsense once we're married? Once we have children?"

Stefnir seemed to expect, with the announcement of their engagement and the nuptials to follow, that Astrid would retreat further into his ideals of a decent wife. He spoke a lot about home-cooked meals, many children, and the nights they would share; not that any of these things were inherently unappealing. Astrid wanted them, but she felt she was fulfilling a duty, an obligation, rather than achieving these things of her own will. Stefnir would be a good husband. Hel, a great husband─for a younger, more impressionable bride. Instead, he got Astrid: someone that liked him as a person but was indifferent to him as a future spouse and lover. She did not want to play the version of the happy wedded couple he had in his mind, so she delayed things as much as she had the power to do so. She told him that she was not ready. She told their parents that she needed a bit more time; but she did not know much time would be enough.

She was not sure one could ever feel ready for that to be thrust upon them: choosing between the comfort and carelessness of yesteryear and the uncertain changes awaiting in the fog of maturity; but the alternative was to continue stringing everyone along through the thorny patch of misery laid out before them. She could not call off the marriage. No one could make her say the vows, but she would not bring disgrace upon her family, either. She had a duty; a responsibility. She would be seen as unreasonable to throw a fit about an engagement that was otherwise perfectly sensible.

Arranged marriages were not a novel idea and the norm of the generations before; and she had no other attachments anyone knew about to warrant such resistance; but it was nothing she had ever expected for herself, back when she had only been concerned with dragons and an infatuation with the chief's lanky son.

"You've been so anxious lately. I'm beginning to think you don't want to marry me," Stefnir teased, though his eyes were sharp.

Astrid glanced down at him, nose wrinkled, making him chuckle. She did not want him to doubt her. They were going to be married, and she did not want suspicions hanging over them as they joined their lives together; being wed was already heavy enough.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, running her fingers through his thick, long hair. He had many small braids, some of which she had wound there. "Of course I want to marry you. We'll be...very good together."

His helmet lay on the grass beside them as he rested with his head on her knee. His two closest friends were busy learning their families' trade: ship-building and carpentry, respectively. That left the Stefnir and Astrid to spend time alone, without distraction. Astrid often felt such moments were a bit uncomfortable and forced, but such times of bonding necessary to convince herself she was deeply fond of the man she was to spend her life with.

As watched her fingers glide through his fawn-colored locks, mapping out each braid, she could not help but think of Hiccup's hair: that deep auburn that could look darker in shade, or brilliantly red when the light hit it just so. She preferred that color, for it reminded her of the festival season and the warmth it brought.

"That's always how you talk about us," Stefnir criticized. He sat up and her fingers were saddened by the loss of idle work. She had been enjoying herself, imagining she was stroking Hiccup's hair. "It's always in terms of what a good pair we make─a formidable team."

Astrid pursed her lips. Speaking about them in the most logical terms was easy. Lying that she felt any real affection was the difficult part.

"What do you want me to say, Stef?" she asked. "Do you want a sweet pet name? Or do you want me hanging on your arm all of the time? I think we both know that's not me, and you like that."

Stefnir frowned and touched her face. Astrid tensed, never feeling the urge to shove him away, but never feeling comfortable enough witch such tenderness.

"Tell me that you do love me," he demanded. "Tell me you aren't secretly dreading this."

Dread was a strong word, but so was love.

"So, you plan on coercing me into affection?" she asked with a smirk.

Stefnir sighed and gave the back of his neck a weary rub. He picked up his helmet and placed it on his head a bit forcefully. He winced.

"No, Astrid. I'm not trying to bully you. I hoped you'd say it of your free will, because you meant it."

She felt a stab of guilt. It was not her intention to hurt Stefnir, though she supposed it had to be her intention to mislead him. On some very fundamental level, she cared about him in a platonic manner. She did not like to lie, but their entire relationship was built on a substantial yarn that she had spun─continued to spin.

"I-I do...I care about you. You know that," she remarked, and she was content it was a little honest, at least.

He placed his fingertips beneath her chin and tilted her face toward him, forcing locked gazes that made her insides squirm. But they were to be married, and so she settled her stomach through force f will, like she always did. She told herself to enjoy it, to find something endearing in it. Stefnir studied her all the while, raking his eyes over her features with the intensity of a dragon stalking its next meal. The truth was his prey, hidden somewhere in the depths of her blue eyes. Her fingers curled in his tunic, tracing the lacings of his collar with a deliberate softness, trying to act the part.

Her moan was insincere against his lips when he kissed her. His hand was on the small of her back, pulling her closer. She did not resist him, and perhaps it did feel kind of nice─but she was not sure. He pulled back, satisfied; but she knew it was only until the next time they had the same argument.

"I love you," he said, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he cupped the side of her face.

She wanted to scream.

"I know that," was her feeble reply.

She caught a glimpse a Night Fury gliding high overhead, and her heart gave the tiniest flutter of excitement. Then, she noticed the the disappoint on Stefnir's face over her weak response; and her conscience reminded her she was a horrible human being. There was no point in it, dragging Stefnir along as she entertained the faintest glimmer of hope that things might get better between her and Hiccup. Something had to give, and her arranged marriage was not going anywhere.

"I'll tell the others tomorrow─no, this time, I mean it," she resolved. "You'll have no more reason to doubt me."

He grinned, but she could not return it.

"I don't suppose I'm allowed to ask you how things are coming along in the dating arena?" Gobber asked.

He placed another finished saddle on the rack behind Hiccup.

"No. You're not," Hiccup answered, tooling leather in a beautiful knotwork pattern on the saddle in front of him.

When the orders piled up, it was often a joint project to fill them. He was the only person on the island who was as skilled and quick at leatherworking as his mentor. Gobber was responsible for the base construction, according to the patron's specifications; and Hiccup provided the intricate finishing touches, be it decorations or additions of a more practical nature, such as mounts for weapons─essential to any design.

He was glad for the distraction, finding the smell of leather and soot from the forge comforting─until the older man had to open his mouth.

"Well, then here I am, not asking you about dating," Gobber remarked with a sly grin.

"That's great, because here I am not telling you about it."

Gobber limped around until he was standing beside Hiccup, making himself difficult to ignore.

"You know, you might want to take it easy on me. Show me mercy. Your dad won't stop asking me because he knows you won't talk to him about anything," he said, leaning against Hiccup's workbench, weight on his remaining hand, currently bandaged from a fresh tattoo.

"And he thinks I talk to you?"

"Aye, that's what he believes."

Hiccup groaned. He slumped his shoulders and laid down his leather tooling instruments with an emphatic thud.

"Maybe about certain things, but my love life isn't one of them," he replied.

"Ahh, he's just concerned. You know how he gets: worried when you close yourself off. Worried that you're too distracted thinking about Astr─ehhh, other things─that you fail to tackle the problem right in front of you."

Hiccup narrowed his eyes. He heard the offending syllable that Gobber tried to gloss over.

"Oh. You mean problems like the ones he lays out right in front of me?" he asked, frowning.

He was getting tired of his father's constant nagging, blurted out at him before he could retreat from the house in the morning. The past few months had been filled with reminders that he needed more structured training in the ways of being chief. Hiccup kept brushing it off, however, not eager to spend his days shadowing his father. The added responsibility was just one more stress he did not need. Not to mention, he would lose his mind playing captive audience to all of his father's suggestions about dating.

He did not need the advice; he did not want the advice. What he did desire, he could not have; and he had come to terms with that. A new, pretty face would not change anything.

"You know that's not the way of it. You do need to learn how to be Chief Hiccup, and part of that is finding yourself a wife. I think Stoick would feel much better if you were at least looking for someone to fill that role."

"I don't see the urgency. I don't intend on becoming the chief anytime soon," Hiccup grumbled, returning to his work, hoping his renewed focus would discourage further conversation.

It was wishful thinking around a man like Gobber, with a penchant for talking that befitted his name.

"But you're eighteen, now," the older man stated.

"So are the others─or they're close enough to it─but I don't hear anyone criticizing their lack of wedded bliss."

"The war is over─"

"Right. So, marriage isn't something to rush into anymore for the purpose of consolidating resources and ensuring bloodlines persist."

"It's about appearances, Hiccup. You need to look like you're motivated."

"Well, you certainly have been talking to my dad," Hiccup droned.

"Oh, it's not so bad. You're being dramatic," Gobber replied. "You could probably choose any girl you'd like. Even if she wasn't happy about it, I cannot see the family refusing─"

"Mmn, yeah. Nothing like a little bit of bitterness to build the foundation of a lasting relationship," Hiccup muttered under his breath, but Gobber continued on.

"You're the future chief, the village hero─"

"Please, stop."

"You have a Night Fury! You've got all the wealth and power that a young lady's family would love to─"

"Stop!" Hiccup interrupted, a little louder and with more force than he had intended. "To me, this isn't business deal to be struck."

Gobber sighed and gazed at him sympathetically, pushing back from the workbench. He smoothed his mustache with one hand, thoughtful.

"What about Ruffnut?" he asked; and there was no teasing grin on his face, no mirthful twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Hiccup's mallet missed the leather stamp. He stared back at Gobber wide-eyed, before his lip curled at the thought. Not that he did not care about the female Thorston. As a friend. Only as a friend; and even then, their relationship was an odd one.

"Alright, alright," Gobber responded, throwing his hands up. "I just thought maybe you could make that work. At least you and Ruffnut are on good terms. That's half the battle isn't it?"

"Not exactly," Hiccup answered. "Besides, the only way that relationship works at all is I have a...and she─well, you get the point." He gestured vaguely below his waist.

Gobber chuckled and ruffled his hair. Hiccup set down his mallet to smooth it back out, though it always retained some degree of untidiness no matter what he did to it.

"Eh, I suppose you should take your time. It's a lot to consider. Funny you should have to start all over now, considering we all thought..."

Gobber trailed off, and when Hiccup glanced up, he noticed his mentor was staring out of the smithy window, mouth in a tight, thin line. Something told Hiccup he should not look. He knew what he would see, but his interest was piqued. He turned and was struck with a powerful surge of jealousy and anger. He tried to wrestle it down, telling himself there was no reason to care when Astrid hung on Stefnir's beefy, tattooed arm as they strolled by. He told himself he never had strong enough feelings for her, so it did not hurt when she smiled up at her boyfriend with simpering eyes. It was not a crime, Hiccup had to remind himself, that Astrid had not fallen in love with him instead. He was being petty, he knew, when he had a passing fantasy of Stefnir struck down by lightning.

He may have had a lapse of emotional fortitude, but he had not reacted. Gobber was still eyeing him as if he was a dragon’s egg, ready to explode open. Hiccup returned to work with a placid facade, though his hands shook as he held the leather stamp upright.

"I'm not sure why everyone was so convinced that Astrid and I would ever─damn it!"

Hiccup swung the mallet too hard and the stamp chewed a conspicuous divet in the leather. He dropped his tools and braced his irritable hands against the workbench, taking a deep, steadying breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled, willing his tense shoulders to relax.

Gobber patted him on the back and there was something infuriatingly knowing about the look the older man gave him.

"We'll just give the Eklunds a discount," Gobber said with even air, as if such blunders occurred every day.

Hiccup buried his face in his right hand, shaking his head.

"You can also cover for me tomorrow afternoon. I have to make a house call for a Zippleback with a pretty nasty overbite. Then we can call it even."

Hiccup raised his other hand in halfhearted acknowledgment.

Such a nice summer day sank Hiccup's mood even lower as he paid his debt to Gobber in the stifling smithy. He spent as much time as he could lounging by the window between completing orders, catching a pleasant breeze every now and then. Gobber should not have taken the duration of the afternoon for his dragon dentistry trade, but Hiccup suspected his mentor's absence was intentional. The older Viking had, no doubt, shirked his duties as blacksmith in the interest of giving Hiccup time and space to clear his head.

Effective strategy, sure enough. Hiccup poured his energy into projects, but he envied the Hooligans enjoying the gorgeous weather on their dragons, soaring through the sky. As cathartic as working could be, nothing soothed mental disquiet quite like flying. Toothless would be wound up when he made it home, fidgeting persistently until Hiccup's nerves grated too thin to deny the Night Fury any longer. He already fitted Toothless for flight, to save some time when his work was done. Without a doubt, the dragon's patience was rapidly depleting.

Hiccup was exhausted. The effort that went into determinedly not caring about much of anything was taxing to all aspects of his well-being. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, expecting Gobber to return any minute and free him from his punishment, but fate was never that kind to him.

"Hiccup!"

He glanced up to see Astrid running towards him battle-axe in hand. If he had any further energy to spare, he would have wept with vexation. Instead, he braced himself.

He eyed the weapon in her hand and prayed to the Allfather she had brought him a task he could sufficiently occupy himself with as she prattled on about Stefnir, as she likely would. That way he could block her out, chiming in with "mhmm," and "yeah," wherever appropriate to give the impression that he was listening.

"I need it sharpened," Astrid said, holding out her axe. She almost sounded apologetic.

"Again?" Hiccup mused, raising his eyebrows. "You must bring it in here at least every other week. Usually on the days that I'm here..."

"I know," she sighed, "but the guys insist on a ridiculous amount of practice to keep their skills fresh. I just want the blade as sharp as possible, so I can keep up. A duller blade increases the effort and energy expenditure. You've always preached to me the merits of routine weapon maintenance."

"There's routine and then there's obsessive. I think you fall into the second category," he remarked. "You can over-sharpen it."

Astrid smiled ruefully and replied, "My axe is lighter. It's not as durable and it wears down faster."

She had to be joking. He was well acquainted with her battle-axe, being her personal weaponsmith much to his dismay. There was nothing flimsy about her weapon. He knew that for certain, having modified it before at her request. Hers held up better than most, especially if he worked on it.

"So, get a stronger axe?" he suggested.

She laughed, but it sounded forced, just like the majority of their communication. Her axe used to be her mother's, and Astrid was unusually sentimental about it. She swatted at him with her free hand and teased, "Got any Gronkle iron just lying around? I may take you up on that."

"Yeah. Not happening."

"Well, then what are you going to do about this?" she asked, nodding down at the axe in her hand.

Reluctantly, he took it from her and examined the amount of wear and tear on the blade. There was next to none, and he was not at all surprised. She was wasting his time again for no other reason than she seemed to enjoy it. He was convinced of it, but did not have the slightest idea why she found their strained interactions entertaining.

His eyes and hands roamed over the axe in its entirety, just to be thorough. A part of him also hoped, if he stalled for a while, Gobber would return and he could pass the job along.

An awkward silence settled between them, not that it was anything unusual. She rocked up onto her toes as she glanced around the shop she had visited dozens of times, pretending to be fascinated. She seemed more tense around him than usual, but he was interested in her troubles.

He decided he could not reasonably hold off any longer and resigned himself to fulfilling her request.

"Don't worry. I will have this back to you in no time," he said breaking the silence, taking the axe over to the grindstone.

Astrid followed him. She always stood too close as he worked; not enough to endanger herself, but close enough to make his hair stand on end. He used to feel nervous, but he became so familiar with the discomfort of her presence that he hardly noticed the way his body reacted anymore.

He ignored her and turned the crank handle until the stone gathered the proper momentum. Very carefully, he sharpened the first blade against it.

He was keenly aware of the small steps she took toward him. He had nearly sliced his fingers off the first time she had sneaked up behind him and buried her fingers in his hair while he worked the grindstone. That was two years ago; but he since learned to anticipate the gentle tug on his russet locks, so he did not flinch when she started twisting the first of two identical braids.

"You normally leave them in," Astrid commented just above a whisper. She was being slower than usual, and Hiccup was frustrated with the lack of purpose to her movements. "I guess it's my lucky day."

He shrugged and flipped the axe over without reply, for he was far too annoyed to say anything civil. He turned the crank again before sharpening the other side, and Astrid begun working on the second braid at the same time. It was odd that her fingers glided despondently through his hair, but odder still was the way she held the end of the braid between her fingers just a little too long. Her hands had been known to linger more than they should, but she remained frozen while he finished her axe. The prolonged contact was atypical for even, her brand of torment. He could not see her face; he did not dare glance back with a lethal weapon pressed against a spinning grindstone. But he could feel the trembling of her fingers against his scalp.

There was a small part of him that felt a twinge of concern laced with an unhealthy curiosity that would be best for him to ignore. He did not want to ask, because he could not let Astrid get to him. But she was hurting then; and it roused something in him; something honorable that compelled him to want to be the shoulder she needed, even if it would never be reciprocated. He bit it back, teetering on a knife's edge.

He was finished with the battle-axe, realizing he had been holding it idly in his lap while the grindstone continued to spin slower.

"It's finished," Hiccup announced. He straightened up and Astrid released him; but she still had the fretful look in her eyes that made him uneasy.

Something was building; something significant that he could not name, hovering thickly in the air between them. He could feel it coming. Only one thing Hiccup could think of─one sensible thing─was catastrophic enough to warrant such heaviness.

He knew what she wanted to say before the words left her mouth.

"Stefnir and I are entering a marriage contract next month," she said, not nearly as delighted as he expected her to be. "I...Well, I just thought you should know..."

Hiccup's heart ceased to beat for what felt like an eternity. His grip tightened on her battle-axe and he felt a lump rising in his throat as he fought the urge to scream, swear, throw something; all seemed equally appealing. Her announcement was rather abrupt, and she gazed at him unwavering.

But what could he say? That he protested? On what grounds?

If there was one thing that could shatter all pretense of his indifference, it was marriage. Specifically, Astrid's marriage. To anyone else. While she simply had a boyfriend, Hiccup could deal with it, stoking the small flame of hope he denied was there. Even though Astrid had never shown any evidence that she planned to leave Stefnir, there was something less threatening about the word "boyfriend" when compared to "husband". Marriage seemed more permanent, and more insurmountable for their tepid relationship. Whatever Hiccup wanted to say or shout just then he knew would ultimately amount to nothing more than irritating old scars, rubbing them raw until they bled.

He thrust the axe back into her arms. With the greatest effort he managed an insincere smile and a simple, "Congratulations."

Astrid's expression hardened. Perhaps Hiccup was not as convincing as he had hoped?

"Yeah? You're actually…happy for me?" she asked, measuring each word.

"Of course!" Hiccup replied. "Why wouldn't I be happy for you? That's...that's exciting."

Astrid's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly thought better of it. She closed it again, examining her axe instead.

"How much do I owe you?" She asked so quietly, Hiccup had to lean in to hear her.

"Nothing. My gift to you for the, uh, whole marriage…thing."

"Thanks, Hiccup," she said in a reserved tone. Now she was the one who would not look at him.

Hiccup did not understand it. She appeared disheartened at the thought of marrying her paragon of Vikingness. She looked decidedly not like Astrid. Had he said something to upset her? What could he have—?

No.

He was not going to let himself go down that path. He did not pretend to understand Astrid Hofferson's motivations, nor her feelings. He was not going to let himself get sucked back in, to care. Her feelings, good or bad, were not his concern anymore. They no longer confided in each other. Those days of mutual vulnerability were long gone. Astrid was Svenson's problem. Hiccup just wanted her gone as soon as he could persuade her to leave.

"Have a good day, Astrid," he said, still wearing a dishonest grin. "And I mean it, really. Congratulations."

Without another word he turned his back to her and pretended to busy himself with another project until she was well out of sight. She left quickly, much to his relief. When, and only when, he was sure she was gone, did he let out the breath he was holding. He dropped to his knees, feeling like all the air had been stolen from his lungs; stolen from the whole world.

He had tried. Odin Allfather, how he had tried─for two long years. He had been winning, too; winning the unrelenting battle with his weak heart. Maybe, in another month or so, he could have started looking at other girls the way he used to look at Astrid?

On second thought, that was laughable.

The pain from their estrangement had never vanished, but like the dull aches where his flesh met his prosthetic leg, he had learned to live with it. Deal with it. Manage it. Then, out of nowhere, Astrid delivered a mortal blow like a lightening bolt from Thor, himself.

Hiccup's mind was reeling with a myriad of questions.

What right did she have to toy with him over and over again, whenever she needed amusement? Would her marriage make things better between them, finally sever the ties that kept them bound in misery? Or would she always kick him while he was down because she enjoyed his emotional struggles?

Suddenly, it was much too hot, and much too difficult to breathe. Hiccup gathered himself up from the ground and tore off his smithy's apron like it was on fire. He knew he was under orders from Gobber to watch the shop in his absence, but he did not care. Berk would not fall to ruin because the forge closed for one evening. Hiccup, however, he might die if he did not escape. He shut down the shop in record time.

He needed to be away from Berk. Away from everyone. Away from her.

He ran into the village center, placing his fingers in his mouth and whistled for Toothless. Unlike people, his dragon did not disappoint him. In an instant the Night Fury was by his side.

Hiccup climbed into the saddle and locked his prosthetic foot into the tail fin mechanism.

"I need you to get me out of here, Toothless," he told the dragon, patting his thick, scaly neck. "As fast and as far as you can, bud."

Toothless did not know the circumstances, but he was clever enough to sense the urgency. He let out a small growl of acknowledgement as he stretched out his wings.

Astrid paced alone in her room, wringing her hands as she worked up the nerve to fulfill her promise to Stefnir. She had to tell Hiccup and the other teens about her engagement, but how to find the right words when things were no longer as easygoing as they had once been? Several times, she almost talked herself out of it; but there was only so long she could procrastinate. There were no more satisfying excuses left.

She debated telling Fishlegs first, gauging his reaction and moving on from there. The Twins would be next, followed by Snotlout, whose reaction would be imbecilic, no doubt. Last, of course, would be Hiccup. Maybe by the time she spoke to him, she would be numb to any shock and indignation he might display?

Then, she realized she was being juvenile.

She shook her head and gave herself a gut check.

Cowardice would not help matters. She knew it would be best to tell Hiccup before anyone else, lest he hear it from another source; get the most painful encounter over with, instead of walking around in nervous anticipation of it.

She cracked her neck and shook her limbs and fingers loose, working out her jitters. She was stronger than the silly girl in fear of an old, inconsequential flame. Hiccup was no more terrifying than any other obstacle she had ever faced. In fact, with his aloof demeanor, what reason did she have to be nervous at all? He would likely take the news in stride.

Yet, she silenced the voice inside telling her she would rather fight a Skrill than tell Hiccup she was to be married.

After two years, Astrid could not recall at what point he had turned indifferent towards her. Perhaps it was a practice she should adopt? Hiccup did not seem to care anymore, so why should she? It was wasted effort─but, just when she was on the verge of letting him go, concentrating on Stefnir instead, he would catch her eye around Berk, or across the Great Hall during meals when she least expected it. He would always look away with a suddenness that tormented her.

Could he have feelings for her, still? Her heart fluttered at the thought, but then sharp reality cut back in. What difference would his feelings make? Neither one of them could undo the mess they were tangled in. Astrid could refuse to say the vows, or divorce Stefnir shortly after they were wed...and bring undue disgrace on her family by the baseless dissolution of a marriage that was legitimate and had not yet had the chance to thrive.

She could not do it; it simply was not in her. Her family name and pride were everything.

Seizing her axe, she bolted out of her house. She made a beeline for the smithy and hoped he was there, knowing she had to tell Hiccup while she still had the courage to do so.

To her relief and distress, she found him filling in for Gobber and looking miserable about it. She called out to him, and he glanced up to see her coming. The expression on his face was unreadable. Was he happy to see her? Was he annoyed? She could not tell anymore. He was such a stranger to her.

She attempted to make small talk, giving him some feeble excuse that her axe was dull and needed sharpening, again. It was a lie, of course, and she knew upon examining the blade that he would know it too. But he did not press the issue. Hiccup never invited more conversation between them than he felt was necessary.

As he inspected her axe, realizing she was being foolish, her eyes scanned the rest of the shop. She fidgeted anxiously, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She could not look at his face while she built up the resolve to tell him of her engagement. There was something about him that was so disarming; something that made the prospect of telling him more upsetting than when she had just been pacing in her bedroom.

"Don't worry. I will have this back to you in no time," he said, breaking the awkward silence between them.

She followed as he approached the grindstone, turning the handle with the confidence of a skilled craftsman well-versed in weapon upkeep. His skill around the forge and all its parts never ceased to fascinate her. She watched with interest as he sharpened her axe, tiny sparks scattering from the wearing of metal against stone. He was not facing her, and that was best. She was not sure she would have been able to reach out and touch him otherwise. He did not jump or stiffen as she wove strands of his auburn hair into tiny plaits.

"You normally leave them in," Astrid commented softly. Her fingers were slow as she enjoyed the last opportunity she would have to put her hands on him with any sort of affection. "I guess it's my lucky day."

Hiccup did not respond. He just continued to work despite the absurdity of her.

Astrid's heart was heavy as she played with his hair. In essence, she would be telling Hiccup goodbye, slicing through whatever still existed between them with the sharp knife of matrimony. It was for the best, but she already felt an overwhelming sense of loss, for their friendship and for what might have become of them if her arranged marriage was not so binding.

She paused after the second braid, toying with it. Her heart would ache as soon as she released him, for that would be the beginning of the end of them. She began to shake, made anxious again by the enormity of removing Hiccup from her life...well, as much as she could, and as much as there was left to lose. Tense, though their relationship was, there was an ardent need to be close to him. That was why she braided his hair and sought him out. It was a craving of the soul that nothing, and no one else could satisfy.

"It's finished," Hiccup announced.

He straightened up so suddenly his hair slipped between her fingers, and Astrid felt like a dry sob would not have been inappropriate.

He turned and they stared at each other. Astrid felt her heart race from the way those green eyes considered her with an echo of apprehension. She had to blurt out something, or she would stay rooted to the spot in an eternal limbo, unable to completely hold them together, and not nearly strong enough to forever break them apart.

"Stefnir and I are entering a marriage contract next month," she said, and she could not muster the joy in her voice. "I...Well, I just thought you should know..."

She did not know what she had expected his reaction to be, and half of her anxiety was related to that uncertainty. Indignation and outrage was just as scathing as complete indifference, coming from Hiccup. She was prepared for either. She was not prepared, for him to completely embrace the idea.

He shoved her axe back in her arms with excitement. He was grinning, and his eyes were alight with an enthusiasm she had not seen for two years. "Congratulations," he said, and it hurt.

Astrid swallowed hard, and narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah? You're actually…happy for me?" she asked, not wanting to believe that after all of his standoffish behavior, he would come alive at the thought of her marrying another man.

"Of course!" Hiccup replied. "Why wouldn't I be happy for you? That's...that's exciting."

Astrid was profoundly bewildered, brow knitted as she consider his drastic mood swing. She tried to detect something else hidden there, deep beneath the surface, but all she saw was a genuine happiness for her. She had dreaded throwing up one last barrier between them, but Hiccup seemed pleased. In all honesty, it was worse than anger or indifference; it was the final confirmation he did not care, and probably never did; not to the extent she had once thought.

His question had likely been rhetorical, but she opened her mouth to say a number of things: how he loved her somewhere deep down in that frozen heart of his, that it should be him not Stefnir, and that the whole damn situation was unfair─but she bit held her tongue and said nothing. In that moment, she realized something, quite plainly: they were not Astrid and Hiccup, the two youths who tamed dragons together, defended Berk by day, and stole kisses in quiet moment alone, as they had two years ago. He was the chief's son, and she was another village girl. That was all they were to each other anymore.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, feeling a sharp ache in her chest that seemed to burrowing into her whole being.

"Nothing. My gift to you for the, uh, whole marriage…thing."

"Thanks, Hiccup," she said softly, and she was not able to look at that kind, delighted face.

"Have a good day, Astrid; and I mean it, really. Congratulations."

He turned away to some project in as clear a dismissal of her as he ever gave, unaware that Astrid's mind was a deafening tempest of sadness and fury. Her chest heaved and her fingers tightened around the handle of her battle-axe, hoping the weapon would leech away some of her despair. Hiccup was not at fault. She knew that. Her resentment was irrational. She knew that. Hiccup had only been supportive, which was something she had wanted from him for months, just not under the current circumstances. She was selfish to want his affection on her terms, and she knew that; but it filled her with a clawing bitterness that she could only receive it over a marriage she did not want.

She turned on her heel and ran, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Hiccup's unintended cruelty. She rushed to the stables, to Stormfly, ignoring every wave or call that chased her from a friend or acquaintance along the way.

Her Deadly Nadder perked up as she hurried down the stairs, nearly knocking Fishelgs off his feet. He flattened himself against the wall as much as he could with a startled gasp, and she did not utter so much as an apology. She stormed into her dragon's stall, and though the Nadder was used to seeing her upset, Astrid had never flown her while so inconsolable.

Astrid paced for a moment, threading her fingers though her blonde hair, unconcerned with whether she pulled it loose from her neat braid. Then, making up her mind, she roughly pulled her saddle from the wall.

The dragon eyed her warily.

"It's okay, girl," Astrid said, her voice cracking from tears she would not shed. "We're going on a little trip. Just for a few hours. I just need to get away from Berk for a while. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

Stormfly considered Astrid for a moment before she determined her human needed an escape, in that uncanny way dragons just seemed to know things.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #affairs au

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

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sansxfuckyou · 2 years

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nostalgia

(a future trunks x reader christmas gift for my bro @degenerate-otaku sorry if it isnt the best i dont write x readers all the time and found this idea to be a good one and decided to run with it)

trunks had returned from the future a couple months ago, and the kid version of him had gotten over his small identity crisis, although he still found it weird to look at a future version of himself. you where only unsure of him slightly, of course you being a friend to vegeta, despite being a weak human, did do you good on getting information about the future trunks.

"tell me more about his future." you demanded of vegeta who only glanced your way for a second before continuing to walk down the street you caught him on.

"as if i would tell you woman." vegeta huffed as you slowly caught up to him, your shoes crunching in the snow.

"i have a name and you know it damn well vegeta." you said with a low murderous underside to your voice, the only thing that caused vegeta to flinch at the tone was its striking similarities to friezas and king colds.

"alright, Y/N, i can tell you a bit about his future." vegeta said giving in with no fight at all.

"good, now spill it." you ordered once more as vegeta came to a halt.

"his reality is in ruins, all of us are dead." vegeta explained, causing you to drop your harsh persona for only a second.

"thats all you have to tell me?" you asked almost cockily.

"the androids caused most of it, other than that, we dont very much else or why hes here." vegeta explained with a sigh.

"thank you for telling me more about your sons reality." you said.

"am i free to go?" vegeta asked somewhat agitated.

"yeah, your free to go, tell bulma your having a visitor for dinner tonight." you added on before taking a turn away from vegeta who lifted off before taking his leave.

mere hours had passed that felt like an eternity to you before it felt like an ideal time to drop by and make your existence known, bulma excited for her friend to drop by.

"probably shouldve worn something better than this, but oh well." you said as you looked at your simple outfit of loungewear before ringing the doorbell, the younger trunks answering the door and letting you in.

"hey Y/N, you here for food?" kid trunks asked as he led you to the living room hands behind his head.

"course i am." you answered with as you looked into the living room finding goku arguing with vegeta, gohan sitting on the ground reading a book, goten playing some video games and the future trunks sitting in the corner of the couch silently.

"hes been brooding in the corner for a while now, good luck getting him to talk." kid trunks said as he trotted over to goten to join his friend in gaming, you simply taking a seat next to the future trunks who tried to inch away, uncomfortable at the contact face tinted red from the embarrassment or was it the anxiety.

"whats your name?" you asked the demi saiyin, who stayed silent for a minute.

"trunks..." he answered with.

"nice name." you said as you tried to inch a little bit closer.

"thanks, whats your name?" trunks asked cautiously.

"oh, its Y/N." you told him.

"thats a good name, better than mine." trunks said as he inched further from you, face a slightly darker shade of red.

"is that a...?" you trailed off as your attention was caught by the holster he had on his back.

"my sword?" trunks asked as he removed it from the sheath with ease, the blade a good two feet long at bare minimum, an inch thick at its widest and razor sharp at the edges.

"yeah, that." you said as you ran a hand across the flat part of it.

"be careful, its sharp enough to cut through anything." trunks warned as he steadied his grip to make sure he didnt accidently hurt you with it.

"i'll be careful." you said as you inspected the steel blade. "can i hold it?" you asked.

"its hefty, but i guess so." trunks said as he instructed you on how to hold it properly before letting you hold it, the blade instantly dropping to the ground, mere inches from hitting it.

"no shit its heavy." you said as you tried to lift it to be at around eye level like how its constantly shown in tv.

"want to head outside so i can show you how to use it?" trunks offered.

"course i do, but its nearly time to eat." you said as you attempted to hand the blade back to trunks who thanked you for it before sliding it back into the sheath with ease as though it was light as a feather.

"foods on!" bulma shouted out to the living room everyone rushing over to the kitchen, only to find the greatest christmas platter fathomable, a little bit of everything for everyone.

"this is some good looking food." you said as you took a seat in front of the best part of the meal, trunks taking a seat beside you, the kid version taking the other side.

"dig in!" bulma exclaimed a shameless and voracious feeding frenzy enacting, you just barely getting anything on your plate.

"i should really work on my reflexes sometime..." you groaned as you took a bite of the cranberry jelly in the shape of a can, a few pieces of turkey and some salad.

"here, im assuming you like ham, judging by how close you sat to one of the three on the table." trunks said offering you a few slabs of the chunk on his plate.

"im good, i know that you probably have an appetite larger than mine anyways." you said.

"your choice." trunks said before tearing into the plate of various delicacies.

"on second thought, could i have a piece?" you asked, the intoxicating scent of the meat finally turning the tide.

"sure, nothing feels better than helping a pretty woman." trunks said sliding a slab of ham onto your plate, the sudden boldness catching you off guard.

"im not that pretty, just a little bit busty is all..." you muttered under your breath before taking a bite of the ham being sent to foodie heaven.

"good food?" trunks asked through a mouthful of salad.

"delectable." you answered with before taking a second bite.

"after dinner lets head outside so i can teach you some basic abilities if you want me to of course..." trunks said trailing off a bit at the end, catching how bold he was and shunning himself for it, face deep red.

"less talk, more food." you answered with before taking a chunk of the cranberry jelly.

....................................................................................................................

for all the readers who arent who this was made for, a reblog for my motivations life would be lovely

and for my friendo, i wish you a good day/night/morning/evening and hope you enjoyed

#christmas gift #dbz #x reader #trunks briefs #dbs #vegeta #kid trunks #son goku #son gohan #son goten #goten #gohan #goku #prince vegeta #bulma

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steveroger · 3 years

Text

Colouring rainbow gifs

The lovely @buckiecap and @djarsdin requested a tutorial of some gifs from this TFATWS rainbow set.

My colouring process is kinda chaotic and it always depends on the gif itself. These three gifs will highlight the similarities and differences in how I colour my rainbow gifs.

You’ll need some understanding of basic gif making and adjustments. I use Photoshop 2021 but I imagine these processes will still work in other versions.

Some basic tips:

When doing rainbow sets, once I've got my base gif ready, I always make a hue/saturation layer on saturation +100 so I can see what colours I'm working with. I just keep it hidden so i can check how my colours are doing throughout the editing process.

Also something to stick at the back of your mind: you want your final gif to be as “monochromatic” as possible - make sure your final palette will be only black + shades of whatever colour you're targeting. This is not only to make the gif as colour-focussed as possible, but it also helps with saving your gif under 10mb. That saturation +100 layer I always keep hidden at the bottom of my gif so I can keep an eye on what colours are present.

It’s also helpful to understand how RGB and CMYK colours work and what to add/subtract when you want to bring out a certain colour. A good example of this is with Colour Balance:

You’ll notice the colours on the left are Cyan, Magenta and Yellow (CMYK), while the other side is Red, Green and Blue (RBG). So if you want more cyan in your image, you’d push the bar towards cyan, but then you’re compromising the reds. In Selective Colour adjustments, the panel is reversed.

This knowledge is absolutely necessary when you’re doing any adjustment, so keep this in the back of your mind as I work through the tutorial.

Green gif - Eli's door

So I start with my hue/saturation on saturation +100 to check what I’m working with here. This gif of Isaiah's grandson opening the door has green, yellow and red as the dominant colours, and I can see a bit of cyan on the right. I’ll keep that hue/saturation layer hidden as a reference.

Normally when I make gifs I start with a curve or levels layer to get any unwanted hues or create a more visible scene. But in this gif, I'm pretty happy with the colours, so I'm just using a simple curves adjustment, because I want to have whatever is behind the door as the ‘background’ and the door frame is the ‘foreground’, so only a slight adjustment is needed here.

Since the colours are already prominent, I'm going to make the green more visible and vibrant. I do this by using selective colour in the green colour to make the green stand out. When thinking of CMYK adjustments, you might think that Magenta -100 would work, as that normally pushes the greens, but I find that this makes things grainy and patchy looking, as you can see here:

Instead, I’m enhancing cyans and yellows, and only pushing the magenta back just a little bit towards green. I’m not sure why green specifically does this, but it’s useful to know this when you’re colouring.

With the yellows, I want to push those more as well, since the amount of yellow usually influences the green-ness of the gif.. I'm also going to max yellow too since that will also make the green pop, but I also have to be careful not to distort the skin colour too much. I also want to balance the skin tone with a little redness so he doesn’t look like he has jaundice (skin tone will be explored later in the gif process)

I've added another selective colour layer on top of that, only adjusting the greens just to make it pop a little more. Don’t be afraid to use more than one selective layer, this can really bring out vibrant colours if you use it right.

Just to get some more depth, I add a colour balance layer, again just subtly pushing the cyan and yellow up and not playing with the green too much. Then my usual last layers are with a vibrance and brightness/contrast - I’m usually quite generous with contrast so I can bring out the different shades and it makes things a little more vibrant too.

This next step is really important when colouring people with dark skin - you want to lower the redness from their skin so they don't look unnaturally orange, as you can see here:

There is a fantastic tutorial here about colouring dark skin tones and avoiding the orange-washed look, and I recommend all gif makers to take note! It's difficult especially when doing rainbow gifs, and it takes some practice. I do this with a hue/saturation layer, and specifically targeting red and yellow and reducing saturation. I might need to play with selective colour or colour balance to get it right. Luckily Eli doesn’t move around too much, so I can use a mask to adjust only his face.

And that’s the end product! now just ignore me as I re-upload the green gif in my set so you don’t see such a horrible jaudiced skin tone sldkfjsldkf

Yellow gif - Karli vs Sam

I'm gonna be completely honest here - this gif was very tricky to do. I actually have about three different versions of it. At first I thought "this is the yellow gif so I'm only going to have yellow tones", and did selective colour to get rid of any traces of green AND red, because I didn't want any orange at all. It ended up looking quite dull:

I mean.. yeah it’s yellow........... but it’s kinda boring. So I deleted all adjustments and watched the raw gif, and noted the orange light contrasting with the pale light. The raw gif itself already had some beautiful lighting - why get rid of it? It depends on what you want, but I like my rainbow gifs to have a different colour there to contrast with the main colour.

Starting off with a hue/saturation layer with saturation 100+, I can see there are clearly yellows and reds and a bit of green on the ceiling.

I thought the contrast of the orange and pale lighting was too good to mess up so I started with that. My first layers are vibrance and brightness/contrast to exaggerate the silhouettes and bring out the colours that are already there.

I added a channel mixer layer to narrow down the colours. I wanted to fill the white bits with yellow, and with channel mixer I’m able to manipulate colours into something else while still looking natural and blended. I won’t be doing too much colour manipulating here so the settings are very minimal. I don’t know how to explain it but it just takes a little fiddling to figure out what works for your gif. You’ll notice the white reflections on the ceiling are now a solid yellow colour:

Next is a colour balance layer. I'm basically trying to bring out the yellow out. This is really just trial and error. I added a bit of magenta to bring the depth of the orange colours in the darker shades:

Now for selective colour. I'm often adjusting all of these while hiding/showing the hue/saturation layer I have kept at the bottom. This time, I’m aiming to subtract the reds and bring it down to a warm orange, and I do that by bringing it towards cyan/away from red, and away from magenta/towards green.

Then I max out the yellows so it becomes the most dominant colour. I've also manipulated the green to make sure it is excluded from the gif - again, checking with the hue/saturation layer at the bottom, while keeping my eye on the ceiling and other places where I’ve noticed green lurking about. I don’t want any unwanted shades ending up in the final colour table.

Finally, I finish with yet another vibrance and brightness/contrast layer, just because I like things bright and vibrant!

And there it is! The orange is still there and adds a contrast, but you can tell that the main colour is the yellow. This gif seems very straightforward but I assure you, it took me quite a while to get this one right. This gif was a joy to work on because Sam was so very extra in this fight sequence lolll

Pink gif - suspicious mechanical grenade? idk

While this gif may look simple, it actually took a couple of tries before I got the colouring right. You'll notice when the ball activates, there is a bright green light that highlights the gas released and it reflects on the chair legs and carpet.

At first I tried this with the above mentioned selective colour method - which I thought turned out okay but it didn't sit with me right. Notice the reflection of the blue light on the carpet - it definitely isn't blue and more like a green-orangey kinda colour, and it doesn't look natural at all.

So I re-started from the beginning and had a look at what I’m working with, starting with hue/saturation at saturation +100. I can see that the original gif has red and green as the dominant colours, with yellow bits blending the two on the carpet. That’s what I was having issues with the selective colour - so I’ll be doing it differently.

Enter: channel mixer. I’m gonna be honest............. I have ZERO idea how the channel mixer really works! It’s all a matter of trial and error, but I’ll try and explain my process step by step.

I normally start in the blue channel (again - no idea why, it just works for me). I start with the reds, and I know if I go over 0, it will push the reds towards cyan, which will get it more purple-y:

Ooooh looking good!!! then I want to push the greens towards magenta, so that needs to go over 0 as well:

Woohoo! It’s already starting to look good. The green light and the way it blends into the red/pinks have all been completely changed into the cyan hues, so there’s a perfect reflection you can see on the carpet! Yay! I had a fiddle with the green and red channels but nothing too drastic. Here are the settings:

Even with just the single adjustment, I was already pretty happy with it and only did a few touch ups: I added a selective colour layer to bring out a more pinky-purpley colour, then a levels layer to brighten things up. It might seem very backwards to add a brightening tool at the end, but I didn’t want to mess up the original colour shades because I liked having the dark shadows lit up by the ball’s light.

And that’s it! Only three adjustment layers, but it took some time to play with the different adjustments and what worked best. Channel mixer can be really intimidating but it works like a charm when you manage to figure it out.

the end!

Finally I have to give credit to some amazing content creators and their brilliant colouring tutorials that have made such a huge impact in the way I edit. Some brilliant guides include:

this colouring tutorial by @favreaus

this colouring tutorial by @inejz-ghafa

this colouring tutorial by @meliorn

I hope this tutorial has been helpful! I’ve tried to explain myself as best I can, but let me know if you’d like any clarification or have any questions. I’m still learning how to do things, and honestly most times it’s just randomly clicking things until something works out!

#gif tutorial #coloring tutorial #rainbow gif tutorial #gif editing #completeresources #dailyresources #chaoticresources #allresources #photoshop tutorial #fyeahps #dailypsd #**mytutorial

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

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and then I don’t feel so bad

thanks again to @thecomfortofoldstorries for coming through when I whined at her about needing ideas

also shout-out to my older sister for being the coolest and getting this song stuck in my head today (happy birthday, sis. wish we’d been raised together)

---

Geralt holds the package tightly with both hands and glares down at it with icy anxiety building at the center of his chest. The cloak he’d special ordered two weeks ago is wrapped in brown paper, tied closed with a length of dark blue woolen string. The Witcher, who has faced countless monsters and angry villagers and vengeful nobles alike, takes a deep breath in through his nose and shudders at the thought of his next self-chosen contract: giving Jaskier a Solstice present. He hopes the cloak is good enough. He hopes that he chose a fashionable color, one that Jaskier will enjoy wearing no matter where he chooses to go this winter. Geralt hopes that the heavy wool he’d painstakingly decided on is the right kind of material for Jaskier’s tastes. He hopes… he hopes that everything he’s about to say and do goes well and that he doesn’t fuck this all up.

“Jaskier,” he calls, keeping his tone light as he knocks on the door of their shared room. “Are you decent?”

“Never!” Jaskier laughs from within. Geralt hears a series of quick, light-soled footsteps crossing the floor before the door is flung open to reveal Jaskier in all his evening glory. The bard is, as usual, painfully correct. He’s not very decent at all; his hair is a mess of brown waves that tumble down to cover his smooth, pale forehead. The apples of his cheeks are flushed fuchsia with a combination of wine and the high of a good show. His frilly white shirt is unlaced at the throat and loosened all the way down to reveal the sharp angles of his collarbones. Geralt gulps air like a man near to drowning and pushes his way inside. Has it gotten hotter, all of a sudden? Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow with worry and he closes the door behind his Witcher. “What’s got you even quieter than usual? Are you sick? Injured? Cursed?”

“Witchers can’t get sick,” Geralt answers, almost automatically. Jaskier rolls his eyes.

“Your version of sick, then?”

Geralt doesn’t know what his version of sick means so he ignores the comment entirely. Instead he shoves the package in his hands towards the bard and huffs. “I got something for you. I thought you might like to wear it to keep you warm, especially since I wanted… I was wondering if you’d like…”

Geralt growls and spins on his heel, running one shaking hand through his hair as if that might calm him down. It doesn’t.

“Fuck! Why can’t I be like you? Why can’t I just… say all the things I’m thinking? I’m no good with words, Jaskier.”

“I actually don’t say most of the things I think,” Jaskier shrugs. He bites the inside of his lip to keep from talking any more and ruining the moment. This is clearly something the Witcher needs to do on his own, whatever it is. He smiles softly and holds the paper-wrapped lump against his chest. “But I’m happy to wait for as long as you need, dear heart. Figuring out the right thing to say is hard.”

Geralt’s heart is pounding in his chest. Each beat rings out like one of Roach’s shoes against unforgiving cobblestone. He can practically see the sparks flying from it, igniting something in his chest that flares and wavers like a candle flame in the high breeze. He wants to protect the wavering warmth with every ounce of strength he has.

“I… I got you this,” he gestures towards the gift Jaskier has yet to open, “Because it’s cold at Kaer Morhen. The pass is treacherous, difficult for a human who isn’t prepared, so I wanted you to- I mean if you wanted to come with me, I would-”

His fumbling proposal is interrupted by a dull thwump as the package Jaskier was just holding suddenly hits the wooden floorboards. When Geralt looks up, terrified of the incoming rejection, he’s met with two watery blue eyes. Every one of his worst fears is being actualized in front of him and there’s nothing he can do to stop it now.

“Fuck. Shit, I- I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know if you would eve-”

Geralt is interrupted again, this time by Jaskier throwing his arms around the Witcher’s shoulders and starting to sob. Geralt panics and instinctively reaches to pull Jaskier closer against his chest. He tucks the bard’s face against the side of his neck and cups the back of his neck with one broad palm; his fingers scratch up the base of Jaskier’s scalp and into his soft, tousled locks. With his other arm Geralt holds the bard tightly around the waist, rubbing small circles into the meat of his hip as he waits for Jaskier’s breathing to return to normal.

“Do you not want to come with me to the keep?” he asks, voice low and gravelly but somehow smaller and more frightened than Jaskier has ever heard it sound before. His heart cracks wide open and his love for his grumpy White Wolf comes spilling out like water from a burst dam.

“Of course I want to come to Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier chuckles wetly. Sadly. “I just never thought… I thought you didn’t want me there.”

Geralt considers the words for a moment. He really hasn’t been the most welcoming friend, all things considered. He can understand why Jaskier feels a bit lost and a bit confused. Overwhelmed, his brain supplies. Jaskier is overwhelmed.

He slowly releases Jaskier and steps away.

“Here,” he grins, kneeling and offering the package back up to the bard, who accepts it slowly. Now those bright blue eyes are shining with a different emotion, and Geralt envies the mages who can read other peoples’ minds. “Open it.”

Jaskier slowly unties the blue string and pulls two or three layers of plain brown paper aside to reveal a cardinal-red woolen cloak. A cloak that Geralt has bought for him. The hood and the hem are just the right size and shape for the season. The shade of red Geralt has chosen really brings out the pink undertones of Jaskier’s skin and the darker flecks of blue in his eyes. Jaskier knows that this cloak’s design is haute couture and probably cost the Witcher a great deal of coin. “Oh… Oh, my sweet, darling Geralt.”

Hearing his name said like that, with such affection and gentle reverence, throws the Witcher into another frenzy of emotion. He can barely stand it. His fists clench at his sides. It takes Herculean effort not to sweep the bard off his feet and spin him through the air, peppering him with excited, happy kisses. Jaskier is coming to Kaer Morhen with him! Jaskier is coming home with him!

“Geralt?”

“Jaskier,” the Witcher whispers, taking one slow step and closing the distance between them. The bard does not flinch. He does not move away. He does not step back. “Jaskier, if you don’t mind, I’d like to kiss you very badly.”

“Of course,” the bard breathes, his hand floating up to rest against the warm, stubbled skin of Geralt’s cheek, “I’ve been waiting so long…”

When their lips finally meet, time stops. There is only the warmth of their skin where it’s touching and the soft, gentle desperation of two people trying to prove, for once and for all, that they love each other. When they pause for air Jaskier pulls away a fraction. “Let’s go sit by the fire and chat, shall we?”

“Hmm.”

Geralt settles himself before the fire and pulls Jaskier down onto his lap, arranging him until they’re both comfortable. “Will your family mind my coming with you?”

“They’re expecting you. Actually, they demanded your presence this year. Lambert actually threatened me with bodily harm.”

“Did they, now?”

“Aye. Eskel said he’d find you and bring you back himself if I was too cowardly to buck up like a real Witcher and tell you that I-”

He cut himself off with a blush.

“That you what?”

“That I love you.”

“Well that’s good news,” Jaskier giggles, “And quite the relief considering I’ve been head over heels in love with you for years, now. A decade at least!”

“Y-you…?”

“Me, indeed.”

“I’m glad we’ll all get to hear your wonderful stories this winter,” Geralt nuzzles down against the side of his neck and sends Jaskier into another fit of giggles. “And songs.”

“Do you like it when I sing?”

“I like it best when you make up little songs as we travel,” Geralt admits. “They’re sweet... and I feel like- like they’re just for me.”

Jaskier lights up brighter than a well-cast Igni and settles himself into the Witcher’s tender embrace entirely. He begins to hum to himself and then slowly, in a way that always leaves Geralt impressed and entranced, words begin to form into verse:

“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Big grumpy Witchers that have me quite smitten, Brown paper packages tied up with strings; These are a few of my favorite things.”

Geralt presses a kiss to Jaskier’s temple and hides his blush in the bard’s warm neck.

“Hair soft as silk that went white in the Trials, Arms that can hold me and heft me for miles, Eyes of warm amber I search for in Spring, These are a few of my favorite things.”

The Witcher swears he can’t fall any more in love. It has to be impossible; but then Jaskier’s voice gets even softer and the words are sung so close to his ear that it makes him shiver.

“When the wolf bites, When the bee stings, When I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, And then I don't feel so bad!”

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michals · 3 years

Note

Can i please kindly request something with klaus and diego? ✨

Klaus is being antisocial, which is strange for him, but then again no one seems to have noticed. This one time though he’ll let it go, everyone’s got a lot on their minds these days what with the whole world being rearranged. So he’s hunkered down on the fire escape outside of the run down boarding house Allison rumored the landlord to get, smoking and listening to his thoughts echo through his head that’s emptier than it was a day ago.

“We might not technically exist anymore but those things will still kill you,” says a voice from the open window. Diego’s head appears, giving him that disapproving look like he’s chiding a kid. Jokes on him though, Klaus is officially second oldest at this point.

“Well, considering the laundry list of things I’ve put in my body a cigarette might as well be a Tootsie Pop, mi hermano,” Klaus says, trying to sound teasing but he can hear the futility in his voice. He’s hoping Diego doesn’t.

Diego frowns harder at him, looks like he’s about to give another health class lecture but after a beat he just lets out a breath through his nose, the frown softening. He looks out across the city, studying it for a long moment. Klaus watches him out of the corner of his eye, hoping he doesn’t do exactly what he ends up doing. Diego hefts himself up over the window frame, testing the strength of the ancient fire escape before settling down with his back against the brick wall.

Klaus tries not to sigh. He’s not really the ‘sit in silence and reflect’ type, even all those years in the 60’s he’d rarely had a moment of peace with the cult around, but right now he just wants to be alone. Everyone else gets to brood, dammit.

“It’s all exactly the same,” Diego says, still looking out over the skyline. He shrugs like he didn’t just say something kind of stupid, “I mean like, the city – so far – it’s just like I remember.”

Diego would know, he’d stalked these streets for years; so did Klaus but he usually saw them through a drunken haze. “Guess our Sparrow friends also kept Valex Valex from blowing up the Sears Tower.” Klaus tries to remember that mission but doesn’t put much effort into it. If anything’s at the back of his mind it’s their old missions.

Diego’s mouth twists at the mention of the Sparrow Academy. Klaus hates that whole thing too, sort of. It’s more he hates that one specific person is in it. He blows out a smoke ring.

“It’s sunny though,” he says. Was sunny anyway, it’s 6 p.m. so the horizon’s getting dark.

“Yeah, wonder how that works,” Diego says, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s supposed to be raining.”

Klaus wonders where his umbrella is right now. “Oh, sure Five’s got the answer somewhere in that quizzical little brain of his. Any grand ideas from our young old man?”

Diego shakes his head, “Naw he’s down for the count. Finally ran outta steam.”

“Aww, poor little guy.”

Diego shoots him a look that says ‘don’t let him hear you call him that’. Then he pauses, says in a curious voice, “He was asking all of us our favorite colors.”

Klaus’s turn to pause. “…unexpected. Why? He knitting us all sweaters?”

“Somewhere between the second and third whiskey – before Allison took it away – he said something about-” he stops to think about it, like he’s not sure he heard right, “how the last time he saw us we were kids and he doesn’t really know us. This version of us.”

“Huh,” is all Klaus can say. Now that the thought’s in his head it actually makes sense. Five doesn’t really know them as adults. Even though 45 years is longer than 17 that’s still 17 years between the siblings Five knew and the ones he’s come back to. Makes sense too that this new wrinkle in their situation would make him realize that.

“What’re the results?” he asks, “What’d everyone say?”

“Allison likes pink-” Klaus hums cause that’s not surprising, “Vanya likes green. Luther likes yellow.”

“Yellow?”

“Yeah I wasn’t expecting that either. Five likes blue.”

“And? What about you?”

“Orange,” Diego says like he’s waiting for Klaus to make a comment.

But Klaus just thinks it’s funny, and fitting, that’d they’d all be different. He takes a drag on his cigarette.

“Well?” Diego asks, eyebrows raised, “Come on, what’s yours? Five passed out before he could get out here.”

“Oh ya know frère, I like all the colors of the rainbow, I can’t possibly discriminate against the others just to pick one,” there, that sounds more successfully flippant.

He purposefully keeps his eyes on the horizon cause he knows Diego’s staring him with some kind of look on his face.

“For real,” he says, his tone as gentle as it gets for him, “you’ve got one don’t you.”

Klaus breathes out more smoke. Dave’s eyes had been light blue, his dog tags are slate gray, Klaus’s favorite shirt had been yellow, that umbrella had had a pink stripe, but no, those are all wrong.

“Purple,” he says. He points over the railing towards the sunset at the melting decrescendo of the sky, at a dark royal purple strip, “that shade specifically.”

Diego stares at it with him for a while, they watch as it disappears as it gets darker out.

“We really don’t know shit about each other do we?” Diego says. He sounds annoyed by it, frustrated. “Any of us.”

Understatement of the year brother, Klaus thinks but it suddenly widens the hollow part in his heart that lingers there now. He had someone who knew him. He had someone who’d been there with him his whole life. Ben knew all his likes, his dislikes, all his secrets both dark and stupid. Klaus had taken it all for granted, more obvious now more than ever when Diego says that. The cherry on the big beautiful cake of a mess that this is is that Ben does exist, and he’d looked Klaus in the eye and had no fucking clue who he was.

Diego breaks the silence: “First year I started going out, doing the solo hero thing-” Klaus is tempted to interrupt with ‘illegal vigilante thing you mean’, “got this sucker.” He points to the scar running from his cheekbone past his hairline. “Mafia enforcer. Took him down, got him arrested, 14 stitches and 3 staples. Walked away like it was nothing. Got back to my place and fell down the stairs. Broke my leg.”

Klaus is very much full of grief and malaise but he laughs out loud.

“That night was when I met Patch actually,” Diego gives a wan smile, but none of this is lost on Klaus. Probably took a lot to admit to any of that but he looks like some kind of weight – a small one – just fell off his shoulder. Probably wanted to tell someone that stupid story for a long time, probably ever since the idea of Team Zero popped into his head.

“Allison’s gonna wanna hear that one.”

Diego blanches. He turns to Klaus. “Alright, your turn. What d'you you got?”

That is a very, very loaded request. Klaus isn’t ready to answer it. He could be glib, like always, he’s got plenty of stories like the chocolate pudding one. He can’t give anything big right now but he knows what he can say to Diego.

“You’re the only one I told about what happened with Hazel and Cha Cha.”

Diego’s brow knit together again in surprise. “Yeah?” Klaus nods. Diego goes quiet, looks at his knees like he’s taking this in. After a bit he nods.

“Thanks,” he says, all macho sincerity in his voice and eyes. Klaus gives into a smile. All different aren’t they, like their favorite colors.

Klaus’s cigarette is burning down and he takes a drag to take advantage of what’s left of it. He wishes he could just pass out like Five.

Diego seems to understand that’s enough for one night. He climbs to his feet, brushes rust particles from his pants. “Don’t stay out all night. You already lost out on the bed and couch by the way.”

Five in the bed and Klaus will bet Allison and Vanya are gonna sleep head to feet on the couch. Poor tall Luther never had a chance at either. “I’ve slept in plenty of tubs in my day. Including a nice clawfoot one in a senator’s mansion.” He points the nearly gone cigarette up at him, “There you go. There’s another one.”

Diego gives another approving smile but doesn’t ask for the story, not yet anyway. Allison will love that one too. He disappears through the window.

Klaus stays outside for another two cigarettes, after the sky’s gone dark. He thinks a whole lot and not much at all. He wishes he had something to take but he can’t bring himself to go out to find anything. Instead he picks himself up and meanders back to the room, says a half cheery goodnight and takes a throw pillow into the bathroom and settles down in the tub.

#tua fic #umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #my fic #'drabble' i said 'mini fic' i said #i'm ridiculous #also yeah this is another one set right after the end of s2 but whatever #and yeah they're in two dif places in both cause one needed a pool and one needed a fire escape that's what the muse wanted #and i made the city chicago cause i wanted to use the sear's tower so there #i'm still convinced i got some kind of major detail from the show wrong like i have in every single thing i've written for it lol

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ot3 · 4 years

Note

your last post made me think about how I loooove how you use color in your art, it's so vibrant and full of life and movement and expression! I was wondering if you had any advice on how to do color studies? perhaps doing drawings with limited palettes? or anything similar?

First things first, thank you, I really do appreciate comments like these! this post now also has a follow up for finish limited palette pieces

I'm obviously very fond of limited palette art and color studies/color thumbnailing are great ways to get that done. When people think limited palette there's often the association of unrealistic and fantastical color palettes, but learning to limit your color use absolutely applies to semirealism and just builds stronger color theory in general. I was planning to talk about limited palettes in more realistic color use in this post, but this already ended up way too long. If that's something people want to hear about I can talk about it later.

Color theory basics crash-course! I'm sure almost anyone who has colored anything is familiar with this, so I'll be SUPER brief, but I want everyone to be on the same page for this. Color has three qualities you need to take into account: Hue, saturation, and brightness. Hue is what we think of as the 'color'. Saturation is the vibrancy of this color; how bold or dull it is. Brightness is how light or dark the color is. Here's this all labeled on a color picker I stole from google.

As a rule of thumb, things that look good in color should look good in grayscale. Having a strong range of values (brightness) makes for a strong image. Keep this in mind when you're picking colors – knowing what areas need to be light and what areas need to be dark before you start coloring will make your life easier. I'm going to teach you when and how to break this rule later, but for now let's just talk about picking a palette. I've found five to seven different colors to be a really nice sweet spot for working with limited palettes.

There are three main types of color palettes ill work with and ill provide examples each of them. I expect you to all politely refrain commenting on the amount of homestuck fanart that's here.

Monochromatic, where the piece is all within one color family with slight variations in hue, and larger variations in brightness and saturation

Accent, which is essentially the same as a monochromatic type with the addition of a strong, contrasting secondary color in one or two variants. Normally the accent color is lighter and serves as a highlight. This is not any kind of a hard rule, but is instead just what I like.

Split. There are two (or more) main colors at play, each with a couple of different shades.

Cool. Now lets see how we'd go about making one of these palettes.

I'm grabbing an inconsequential sketch i've already got and we're gonna slap some color on it. Let's start monochromatic – I've gone and just tossed six pretty random shades of green on it, picking what goes where based on what I want to be light and what I want to be darker.

Keep in mind, by monochromatic, I don't mean just picking one color and making it lighter or darker! Adjust your hue within the same color family – some of these are very blue, definitely more blue than green, and some are much warmer and yellower. Play around. In this stage I like to have every color on a distinct layer, so I can just recolor the entire layer at once as I tweak the palette.

On the right, I have each color lined up in order of lightest to darkest just so I can get a sense of what I'm working with. Lets go ahead and call this one thumbnail. Now I'm gonna group the layers, duplicate them, and flatten the copy. I'll shrink it down and shove it off to the side so I can compare it to the other ones I make later.

Okay, I did a few more almost completely arbitrary monochromatic palettes. Here they are compared with their grayscale counterparts.

All of them have the same number of colors, and lights stay lights, darks stay dark, midtones stay mid consistent between all of them, but the range of values is different between them all. The difference in light or dark between each tone is different and it gives a different mood that you can see even in black and white. None of them is more 'correct' than any other, and it's all about establishing the tone and atmosphere you want. Experimentation is key.

Now lets try making this a complimentary palette. With a strong accent color, your accent should be placed at areas of importance. People are naturally drawn to contrast and when using an accent color in a piece it'll make that area stick out, so make sure you're placing your colors with intent. For this I went back to that first set of greens I had because it was my favorite. Since this palette is over all very dark, I am going to make my accent the lightest color, because that'll stand out more. In a lighter palette, try making your accent the darkest color. Once again I must stress these are not hard rules – there are very few hard rules in art at all – but these are very useful tips for getting emphasis in the right place. This is just an example piece so I'm not being huuugely thoughtful with how I'm placing the color.

Here's the same image but with the lightest green just swapped out for a far more vibrant accent of yellow. Looks pretty terrible. I don't want all of the papers and blinds to seem so prominent. So let's scrap this and try a different approach. We're gonna instead add our accent as a sixth color to our palette.

By adding another color, I've added another level of detail. Figuring out how to manage detail isn't just dependent on how many colors you have, but this is already going to be ridiculously long so I'll spare you that spiel. This is another one of those things I'll talk about more later if people want to hear my #thots. Using the new yellow accent, I emphasized the eyes, the mug, and added some interior detailing to the objects on the table. I also decided to place yellow in some of the windows of the outside buildings, to add a bit more interest in that area, and to justify giving yellow back lighting to our little goblin lad here, which makes him stand out nicely.

A split palette makes things a whole lot more complicated. Now that you're gonna be working with two different base colors you don't just only have to worry about which one is lighter or darker, you have to worry about how the hues look next to each other. Lets work with an orange on top of our original green here. I picked two of the greens and replaced the darker one with a darker orange, and the lighter one with a lighter orange. Now our palette is six colors split 50/50 between orange+yellow, and green.

But now something interesting is happening. Let's take a look. If you're particularly keen eyed, you might have noticed that there's a third set of colors here, using a greyish brown in place of the oranges. What's up with that?

Well, what's up with that is, they are orange. The palette on the far right is what happens if, instead of choosing my own oranges, I simply hue-shifted the bluegreens until they were technically orange in hue.

The oranges I chose just based on how they looked without actually checking the value and saturation of actually changed the value hierarchy of the whole piece. The table, instead of being in between the objects stacked upon it in terms of brightness, is lighter than either. This isnt bad at all – there's absolutely nothing wrong here. It's just important to be aware of things like this! This is why I said a split palette is the most complicated of the three I'm talking about here – in many occasions, the hue hierarchy can top the value hierarchy. Keep that in mind for slightly later.

I think split palettes work really well for comics, and I like to make my comics with split palettes. Whereas with a single illustration, you can just putz around with your color thumbnails until you get something good, for a comic you're locked into your palette once you've done the first page. Unless you're some sort of insanely meticulous person, in which case I envy you, you probably don't have every single page of your comic blocked out with respective values and can't apply your palette to the whole thing at once to test it. This means you'll need a palette that's pretty versatile. Having a split palette where one of the hue sets is lighter than the other overall allows you to decide whether you're going to create an overall light panel with dark accents, or vice versa. I'm gonna compare two palettes I'm using for comics to make this point.

Here's a sampling of the comic pages in full color, at 0% saturation, and adjusted for grayscale respectively. You'll notice a slight difference between the desaturated colors and the grayscale colors – grayscale seems to hold truer to the full color version, doesn't it?

Now, here are the palettes themselves, and some grids showing the relationship between every pair of colors. When you don't know exactly what you're going to be using any given palette for, the relationship between any two colors becomes more important than ever. The bottom palette is split three ways, red yellow and blue each with a light and a dark, and then a completely neutral dark gray color. I'm using it for a long ongoing ace attorney comic I'm drawing. The top one has 4 shades of blue that go from darker and cooler to lighter and warmer, then 3 shades of orange that get yellower as they get lighter. Underneath is just the values – you'll notice that the top palette has a larger value range, with its lightest color being lighter than that of the bottom palette, and it's mid tones spaced further apart.

What you'll also notice about the bottom palette is that instead of the reds being lighter than the blues and darker than the yellows, the value alternates dark red dark yellow light red light yellow. Take a look at the color grids. You'll notice that for the most part, every color in the palette on the right looks good with every other color. That's not nearly as true for the palette on the left. The light blue has a weird vibration where it meets either of the reds, and a few of the pairings just aren't particularly pleasant. Honestly, from any objective ideas of color theory, this palette kind of sucks shit. Lets make some adjustments to it.

I've changed the dark yellow and light red hues so now the light red is slightly darker than the dark yellow. That's the palette that's on top now. Looks better, doesn't it? But so now the question becomes why am I using a palette that looks awkward, disharmonious, and visually strained when I know exactly how to fix it? The simple answer is because I wanted a color palette that's awkward. I wanted that visual strain. I have trouble working on comics and general, especially anything as long as this one, and I wanted a color palette that already meant things would come out looking a little bit wonky, so I wouldn't be as concerned with nitpicking all the details and making everything pretty. I think the sort of visual upset also fits the tone I'm keeping with a lot of the comic.

Remember earlier when I said I'd talk about breaking the rule of stuff looking good in gray scale and in color? That's now. Take a look at this image.

Which of the three colors is darker: the red, blue, or yellow? The stupid truth of it is that there's not really a proper way to tell. All three are technically the same 'brightness' but our brain tells us that the blue is the darkest, and the yellow is the lightest. Why do our brains do this? Let’s make em gray now.

On the bottom you can see what the colors look like when they are set to 0% saturation; as you'd expect it's a homogeneous gray blob. So then what the fuck is going on with the grayscale one? The grayscale one is closer to the way our brains interpret the colors, but we know this to be an improper rendering of their respective values. Which is the correct version, then – the grayscale or the desaturation? Luckily, we're using a computer, so we can have photoshop tell us the exact balance of hue, saturation, and brightness of any given pixel. Let's take a look now.

Wait, huh? We can plainly see that all three of the colors are at 49% brightness. But neither the desaturated value or any of the 3 grayscale values have a brightness of 49%. So what does a brightness of 49% look like?

Okay. Sure. Why not.

All of what I've just shown you regarding grayscale is to emphasize the point that your best judgment for which colors look good is a far better measuring stick for a good color palette than any technicalities. Even if the value is the same, the hue can differ enough that you can still get a beautiful finished drawing. Color and our perception of it is so, so vastly technically complex. You can not allow yourself to be bogged down by this. Simply practice, and color will become intuitive to you over time. I have a lot more I could say on the subject of picking and using your colors, but this is already insanely long. Feel free to ask any follow up questions, I hope this was of literally any use!

#long post #uhhhhh.#color theory #i guess #i drew this #Anonymous

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Text

The Champion’s Identities 10,000 years back

I was tagged in this post by @no-themes-just-memes for a theory about the original Divine Beast pilots 10,000 years back. This was too big for a reblog so here is this...

This tapestry, the one that was passed down to Impa, over what I can assume is a lot of generations, is pretty much our only information regarding the original Champions. It’s well guarded, behind Impa, which is near where their “treasured heirloom” was kept so it’s definitely a valuable heirloom.

[Full theory/analysis below the cut]

Now the fact that it’s in Impa’s possession and clearly in the Sheikah style is obvious to the fact that it was Sheikah-made, but just to reiterate that point, you can clearly see the Sheikah text, swirl designs, eye symbol, and obsession with constellations that other Sheikah stuff (like shrines) have. Impa’s version is much more weathered, which in comparison to the much brighter and refined picture I have at the top, obviously means that this piece of art is old. This was definitively made by the Sheikah and not something that was from the Hyrulean Family as other people may think

Why is this important? Well firstly, and a bit off topic, but I think this confirms that the sealing of Ganondorf in botw 2 was done by the Sheikah as the wall art in the trailer is of Sheikah style and not the Zonai (although that’s on the pretense that this art of ganondorf is related to his sealing, and not just art depicting the events of something else entirely, which could also be likely to be fair)

Anyhow, the fact that this was done by the Sheikah, means that we can definitively say that the art here is not only accurate, but we can understand that the artist had the basic knowledge on what the different races across Hyrule were when making this. Basically, I’m saying that this isn’t a case of “Oh this was a legend passed down through time and this art was made by someone 100 years ago so the description of the Champions is not accurate.” No. This was by the ancient Sheikah, who had first hand, or at least very close hand, knowledge on the events and more specifically what the Champions looked like.

[And I can further prove this because the tapestry in the trailer is obviously woven, and not inked into, unlike the other more “modern” art across Hyrule that you see in the game. It’s on an almost papyrus like “paper” and not the more modern book binding paper that is present across Hyrule, the only exception being the Rito, but again, this is definitely Sheikah design]

If we understand that the depictions of the Champions are accurate, and not the result of misinterpretation through myths passed down to later artist, we can actually use the art of the Champions as fact to identify them.

I’ll start off with this, none of the Champions were Rito, Goron, Hylian, or Sheikah.

Rito and Goron are easy to disprove, the shape of the Champions are vastly different from the larger, circular Gorons, and there are no wings, beaks, or talons present on any of them, so Rito is a no.

You could argue that Medoh’s pilot has a beak, but 1) There’s still no wings or talons, tail, or even feathers. 2) It’s more likely a helmet, such as the Divine Beast Vah Medoh Helm which is canonically worn by the pilot/controller of a Divine Beast. We will come back to that point.

None of the pilots are Hylians or Sheikah, because the tapestry includes depictions of those very races in the same piece. The Hylians are depicted very human like, and the Sheikah are all with their signature masks with their symbol on it. Both, vastly different than the styles of the pilots.

(And also the Sheikah race devoted themselves to assisting the Hyrulean family with their technology and knowledge and not with direct combat making it unlikely they were pilots)

[btw there’s a theory that the corpse in botw 2 is actually the hero because they could both be Gerudo/ganondorf, cause the hero in this tapestry was Gerudo cause of the skin tone and hair or something... but I’m 99% sure that’s wrong because 1) the curse of demise wouldn’t allow Ganon to be the good guy and 2) the hero clearly has pointed ears, something not developed by the Gerudo (who had rounded ears) for many many many generations]

[Fun fact! This last image showing the ancient Sheikah being cast out displays them escaping to the Forgotten Temple (with the large goddess statue) and some of them also splitting off to become the Yiga Clan]

The only possible known races left are the Gerudo and Zora, but I’m very hesitant to even say that for a few reasons I’ll get into later.

The reason they’re not crossed off completely is because they have distinct arms and legs which Zora and Gerudo have, shocker I know. In addition, it could be argued that the red hair that some of the pilots have indicate their Gerudo race. Also, the pilot for Divine Beast Vah Ruta has a skirt/petitcoat like fins around their waist which could be argued to indicate a Zora. However, this obviously won’t explain the other pilots, but we’ll get to that soon.

[I’m not gonna re-screenshot the other pilot just scroll up and look at how their hair color is red ok]

Now, other than those obscure observations, this leaves me with my two theories. The simplest one, is that the pilots were actually Hylians, or Zora, or some other race, but they’re depictions here have them in armour, so it is impossible to tell. This lines up with the amibo descriptions of the Divine Beast Helms, which were worn by those who controlled the beasts, giving reason to the pilot’s unusual head shape. Not far-fetched to assume that they’re might have been a fully fledged Sheikah pilot armour made at some point.

[could be argued that the this helm explains the “tusk” or “trunk” like blue shape on the Ruta pilot’s face]

In addition, notice how the pilots are all wearing the same colors as their Divine Beasts. The Ruta pilot with the same shade of blue, the Rudania with the orange, Medoh with the green, and the Naboris pilot with the red (and yes its a different color than the Ruta one, I checked its a darker shade). This could explain away the coat-like shapes on the Ruta pilot, and and previously mentioned beak shape on the Medoh pilot. No race (other than the Zora, but again, they’re unlikely) have these colors naturally, so we can only assume it is armour that makes their weird body shapes.

[Again, I’m not gonna re-screenshot them just scroll up or take my word for it :p]

So theory one is just that, their races are ambiguous/unknown because of the ancient Sheikah armour they wore, perhaps to protect their identities? Or, perhaps because Nintendo was lazy and didn’t think it was that important, which is fair, it really doesn’t impact the story that much.

What it does impact is my ability to theorize and assign meaning to things that they didn’t intend to, in the hope that I’m might be right, which brings us to theory 2.

I say that the pilots are not Gorons, Rito, Hylians, Sheikah, Zora or Gerudo. Now you might be thinking “That’s literally every race in Hyrule how is that possible?” and to that I saw no, no it’s not.

If we skedaddle back to my brief mention of the Zonai in that one paragraph a good 5 minutes ago (for your average reading speed idk) we can remember the Zonai people, responsible for the ruins across the Faron, Thyplho, Upper Eldin, and all three of the mazes in the corners of Hyrule. Their culture and ruins are vastly different than the Sheikah and Hylian, but they’re assumed to have human-like characteristic given their relation to the barbarian armour set, as I assume that the tribe from the Faron region is at the very least connected with the Zonai

This armour, by the way, is only found when completing Sheikah shrines, meaning the Sheikah must have made contact with the Zonai at least 10,000 years ago. Much easier to be in touch with someone if they’re...I don’t know, recruiting their people to pilot a giant mech of yours, wouldn’t you say?

Secondly as to why I think the pilots are all Zonai, is this line from Impa

These pilots were from “across the land.” Of course, you might initially interpret that line to prove that the pilots must have been of different races and background (ergo, Theory 1) but then how could you explain the similarities all four of the pilots have to each other.

All the pilots have darker skin (something that might be common if your people originated from a lush jungle, such as the Faron?) they all have distinct arms and legs, they all have hair, and are all of similar proportion, which is different than that of the Sheikah and Hylian.

I’m saying that all the pilots were off the same race, and what other race is present “across the land” other than Hylians? The Zonai, present in all four corners of Hyrule as proven by their ruins.

The Champions of 10,000 years back were Zonai, wearing special Sheikah made armour and helms, and helped the Hylian princess and the hero defeat and seal Calamity Ganon. While the Sheikah were later pushed out, no such violence or discrimination was recorded against these Champions because they were not Sheikah. Their race and names faded with time because just like their Zonai people, they and their tribe disappeared mysteriously never to be seen again. This is why their identities and race were left unknown, because their people were not remembered.

But that’s just a theory...a GAME THEORY. Thanks for watc— uh reading? Thanks for reading :P

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #botw 2 #botw 2 theory #botw theory

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kunderdogs · 4 years

Text

Subtle

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Reader ft Jay Park Genre: Romance Count: 2.5k Warnings: Fluff / Some swearing Rating: PG-13 Requested: Yes

This was actually really fun to write. I love writing Jay Park ;)

Park Jaebum swivled in his black chair, eyeing his artist and friend with a suspicous eye. While it wasn't rare that Simon Dominic would come to him for advice on things, it was very rare that this advice would be about women. Kiseok had his fair share of relationships and hookups so he wasn't totally sure why the older man was looking particularly nervous right now.

"You want...relationship advice?" Jay asked, just to clarify. He wasn't exactly the poster-child for long, stable relationships and from what he remembered, Kisoek was about five months deep into a relationship at this point.

Scratching his cheek, Simon looked to the wall. God, this was so awkward. Asking his girlfriend's older brother about love advice while said brother had no knowledge of his little sister's involvement with one of his oldest, closest friends.

In his defense, it was you that had wanted to keep it quiet from Jay. You know how he got when it came to you, his baby sister - the baby of the family. He was a typical brother. Over protective and some times blinded by the sibling love to see that you were an adult now and could make your own decisions. He had fought you tooth and nail when you decided to come to Korea and be an actress, especially since your skin was darker and you didn't look like the typical Korean actress. His words were truthful but they still hurt. It took a lot of tears (on your part) for him to get over his personal feelings and support you.

So you were not in any rush to tell him about your relationship with Jung Kiseok, someone who he considered a best friend. Kiseok was also much older than you, so you were sure Jay would burst at the seams when he found out.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, hated sneaking behind his friend's back like this. He felt like he was hiding you and that wasn't something he appreciated doing, to your or to himself. He had immense loyalty towards Jay as well so if this damaged the younger's trust in him, Kiseok wasn't sure if he could stand that. He'd known Jay for so many years that if he told him to break up with you, Kiseok wasn't confident in saying he wouldn't do just that.

Clearing his throat, Simon sat up straighter on the studio couch and faced Jay for the first time since he walked in. "Yeah. I want to meet my girl's family but she thinks we should wait a little longer. Because she's younger, she feels like her older b-...sister wouldn't approve."

Hearing the seriousness in the older man's tone caused Jay put his phone in his lap and give him his full attention. "Maybe she doesn't think you're serious about her? It's only been a few months."

Kiseok let out a breath and leaned back, muscles still tense. "I've liked her for about a year but I didn't want to approach her due to her...family. I'm serious about her, definitely, but I want to prove to her family that, despite the age difference, I genuinely care for her."

Jay watched him for an agonizing second before smiling widely. "Aw, that is so cute. You're in love~." He sang, only causing color to bloom over Kiseok's cheeks.

"Well- I- Yes, but I need options to show her family that I do," he defended as he stood slowly, "But if you're going to tease I can easily ask Loco-"

Jay scoffed, "You'd go to Loco for advice? He basically self combusts when Hwasa so much as looks in his direction."

Kiseok sat back down with a chuckle. Very true. Loco was a mess when it comes to his love life.

"Anyway," Jay continued like he didn't just shade his younger friend, "You should go meet with the sister, away from your girlfriend and tell her your intentions. If you get the one that opposes it the most on your side, the other family members would be easier to come around."

Taking a moment to think about, Kiseok agreed with a nod. "What if h-...she doesn't want to hear what I have to say?"

Noticing the hitch in his voice, Jay shrugged, "If you're serious about this girl then she'll listen. It's her sister, so of course she's going to want to meet you and see who you are. Go to a semi-public restaurant so she has to listen to you, without yelling."

Kiseok felt now would be a good time to make his move, but coming out right didn't sit well with him so instead, he nervously gulped and used the last of his will to ask, "What would you say to that?"

Jay interpreted it different than what Simon expected but he pondered it for a second before snapping his fingers. "Let's try this- I'll be the sister and you try to convince me to support the relationship. What's the age difference though?"

Feeling the panic rise to dangerous levels in his body, Kiseok did his hardest to hide his inner feelings before clearing his throat again. "It's um, more than six years."

Jay blinked at the new information but shrugged again. "She is an adult, right? How old is she?"

"She's um, twenty-six right now."

Feeling his shoulders relax, Jay took a breath. "Oh, she's the same age as Y/N? Okay, that's not too bad. Gosh, you got me worried you were dating some eighteen year old or something..."

Chuckling in nervousness, he was thankful that Jay was too distracted by getting into his character as the "sister" to notice how jumpy Kiseok became when he mentioned your name. They agreed that Jay would play the older sister coming to meet him at a restaurant so Jay stood and walked in the door, swinging his hips in an exaggerated motion as well as held his hand out like he was carrying a purse.

Jay slid onto the couch opposite of the older man and crossed one leg over the other. "So," he began in a high-pitched voice to mimic a woman’s. "You're the famous Simon Dominic my little sister is dating?"

Somehow, even with Jay pretending to be a girl, this all felt too real to Kiseok. He was nervously pulling at his collar before he could reign himself in. "I-...Yes. I'm Jung Kiseok, thank you for meeting me here..."

Jay blew his pretend manicure in boredom. "Let's cut to the chase." Within a few seconds, his dark eyes narrowed on him. "How can you date a woman so many years younger than you? Have you no shame?"

Absolutely caught off guard, Kiseok stuttered to respond, which made Jay break character and raise an eyebrow at how unsure the usually confident rapper was. Either way, he let the older man stumble to respond. "Your sister and I have real feelings for each other. I know you're concerned for the age difference and I also had my own reservations but getting to know her over these last few months made me realize my feelings for her are very much real. I would like your approval to continue dating her."

Back in character, Jay huffed with his nose in the air. "There are hundreds of men worthy of my sister, her age as well! What makes you think you deserve her? Just because you're a celebrity doesn't mean every woman has to fall at your feet!"

The sincerity in Simon's eyes as he spoke next took Jay aback a bit. "When I'm with her, I'm not Simon Dominic. I'm Jung Kiseok and she doesn't treat me any differently because of my status. I can be who I really am with her. When I wake up, all I want is to see her and hear her voice. When I'm having a bad day, she's the first person I run to...When I'm having a good day, she's usually the reason. Her smile is the most breath-taking thing I've ever seen."

Just seeing how starry-eyed Kiseok was getting talking about his girl made Jay smile a bit. He really liked this girl, whoever she was. "I know, she's my sister! That doesn't tell me about your intentions with her. I won't give my approval to just anyone."

Kiseok made sure to keep eye contact and if there were any traces of humor before, it was all gone by now. For some reason, Jay could feel the air around them take an even more serious turn. "Your sister makes me the happiest version of myself. We've only been together for a few months and even though I wanted to tell you when we first began dating, I respected her wishes to wait to tell you. Out of all the woman I've met, I've never wanted to spend my entire life with someone until now. It's too early to speak of marriage with her but I have every intention of asking for her hand, down the road."

Jay felt defensive, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe because he had a little sister who was the same age, but suddenly his voice was back to normal. "She has her whole life ahead of her and you two are at different stages of life. Wouldn't you want someone your own age?"

Kiseok heard his heart bumping a thousand beats per minute. It felt as if he were talking with Jay now, not the pretend scenario they conjured up. This was getting too real at this moment. "I've tried to convince her and myself that it would better for us not to date because of our age but after some discussion, we're both at the same point in life. I do want to settle down soon but I have a lot I want to do, career wise, and so does she. Right now, getting to know each other is our priority. All I know is that I can't live without her in my life right now. I love her."

Keeping the eye contact, Jay noticed that they weren't talking about the same person at this point. His eyes searched the older's face for a minute before he broke character entirely.

Siting back on the couch, the young CEO took a deep breath and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about his own baby sister. Your smiling face flashed in his mind. He had a small suspicion...so small it could be written off as paranoia.

Either way, he had to ask. He had to know. "Who is this girl?" The tone he used boomed with authority and usually was able to make weaker men tremble.

However, Kiseok must've noticed how pensive he became and understood that Jay was coming to the realization. He didn't have any reaction at first, just blinked at the younger man. After a few tense moments, he exhaled deeply. "I think you know who we're talking about."

That was confirmation itself, without even having to out right say your name.

So, without further ado, the usually cool-headed CEO blew the fuck up.

Launching out of his chair, Jay's chocolate eyes were set on fire, glaring at the man before him. "You're dating my sister! Without telling me!"

With no intention to fight or argue, Kiseok looked up calmly to his friend. "In my defense, I wanted to tell you as soon as we had our first date."

"My sister!" Jay nearly screamed, the realization finally dawning on him. "Y/N?! My own sister, behind my back?! What the fuck!"

Without much to say, he let Jay get it all out of his system. It looked as if he was in denial at first but after a few minutes of thick silence, he fell back onto the couch with a defeated look. It looked as if he'd aged ten years in the past ten minutes.

A hand rubbed down his face. "You're the man she's been telling me about? Damn it."

This peaked his curiosity and he couldn't help but ask, "She talked to you about me?"

Jay glared weakly at how eager he sounded but couldn't stay mad at his friend. "She mentioned she was interested in a guy in the industry, a few years older than her who sent her flowers every day for the duration of her movie shooting. I told her to pursue it if she kept babbling about him...You, I guess."

Trying to fight the smirk, he failed miserably. So Jay was the person who'd basically told you to date him? Everything really came full circle, didn't it? Seeing how utterly confused the young CEO looked, Kiseok took this time to tease him. "You know...if you hadn't told her to pursue a relationship with me...she wouldn't have agreed to our first date. So, you're directly responsible for us dating."

"I didn't know it was you she was talking about!" Jay defended, but quickly deflated once again. "Although, even if I knew it was you...I don't think I would've been opposed..."

"You wouldn't have?" The doubt in Kiseok's voice was too thick to cover up.

Jay crossed his arms, huffing like a child. "How can I oppose you two being together when you bought her flowers every day for months? Not to mention the whole k-drama worthy speech you just gave me..."

"So," Kiseok started gingerly, "Does this mean..?"

"That I approve?" Jay grumbled in his chest. "You're lucky I know the kind of man you are. If you'd been any other sleazy rapper I'd end this right now."

Kiseok felt oddly flattered. It didn't last long though.

"But," Jay continued, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Y/N is still my precious baby sister so if you hurt her in any way, if you fuck up, I'll be on your ass faster than you can apologize."

A weight lifted from his shoulders that he didn't even know was there. Jay was the biggest obstacle in your relationship so with his approval and him on your side, it would be easier for your family to come around, especially since they knew and loved Simon like he was apart of the family.

Jay stood, fingers unlocking his phone so he could call you. With the phone to his ear, he gave Kiseok one last once over, "Also, I don't want to hear about any...activities you two have."

Laughter followed the CEO out of the studio as he left a voicemail to meet him and "your little boyfriend" for lunch today.

#simon d #simon dominic #simon dominic scenarios #Simon dominic reaction #jung kiseok #jung kiseok scenario #jay park #park jaebum #aomg #aomg scenario #kunderdogs #request #jay park scenario #ssam d

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keijikunn · 4 years

Text

Yellow

pairing: bokuto koutarou x neutral!reader genre: overall fluffy, there’s this tiny bit of angst but nothing too hurtful summary: the yellow things in love that reminds you of bokuto koutarou word count: ~2.5k author’s note: happy birthday to my favourite loud boy! i know i’m a bit late, but here it is my special fic to our owl

WARNINGS: mentions of car crash

If you enjoy it please leave a comment or a reblog!!

a life with bokuto koutarou is painted with yellow. like the sunshine on your skin, a cold lemonade on a hot day, or a smile face on every text exchanged. a life him his was never dull, he just… brings color into it. in all honesty, you were nothing but blessed to have such a great man on your side through the ups and downs of life.

waking up next to him – with his arms securely wrapped around your waist, his soft breathes hitting your neck and his head on your chest – always filled you utter joy and warmth. even when his lips let snores escape or how his hair would tickle your face, the peace on his features was enough to melt your heart. and when the rays of sunshine illuminated both of you? that was the moment koutarou looked absolutely like an angel – and perhaps he is.

“good morning, love” his raspy voice has never failed to pull the strings of your heart, the same ones bokuto knew all too well – after all, years of relationship taught him enough about you.

“good morning, kou” you replied with a quick peck on his forehead, letting a hand run through the locks of gray and black hair. the man let out a content hum as he pulled you even closer, that way he could kiss the soft skin of your neck just the way he knew you liked.

as odd as it might be, mornings were the only moment bokuto would be the calmest he could. the aura around him would be a pastel yellow. soft, discreet, but lovely. the most tender and loving gestures are exchanged in a half-sleep conscience – but still the purest actions. your own world is filled with such color, your bedroom – despite the blue grey-ish shades on the walls – was a safe haven illuminated with it.

koutarou, however, wasn’t a simple man. therefore, he hadn’t in himself only one variation.

bokuto was also as yellow as your highlighters: bright, flashy, but helpful with sort of a guidance within it – just like the actual object. he reminded you of it because of the many sleepless nights both of you spent during your exam’s seasons in college, even though he was not much of a help and his schedule required him to wake up early.

“I might not be a college student, but I need to hype my significant other” he commented on the first time he stayed up until 3 in the morning with you, sitting on the kitchen table scanning with his eyes through the many pages scattered around. “it’s hard, but I believe in you. and I can’t let you pull an all nighter, you’ll be absolutely shit on your afternoon classes”

just like that, koutarou would make you company in silence. sometimes he’d fall asleep resting his head on his folded arms over the table, in others he’d try to help you organize what you’ve already been through. and on the top of all of that, bokuto koutarou would ground you whilst your mind you’d be drowning in anxiety and self-doubt.

the same way you’d highlight important things on your books and notes, bokuto would highlight the best qualities of you. pointing your smartness, beautifulness, gentleness and loving personality. this man would not let you forget how far you’ve come, all hardships you’ve won against and how your future is going to be as bright the yellow pen that you constantly use.

by himself, kou would be under the spotlight as the great athlete he is. you, however, couldn’t help but give him the focus he deserved. he was inspiring to you, always trying to do better, to be the best version of yourself. in your life, bokuto koutarou was a highlighter, but also something highlighted so you can – and will always – remember his importance and meaning to you.

there are these certain shades of colors that just don’t look as pretty as others, but are as just important to compose the whole one. like any other people in the world, bokuto also had the slightest ugly tones of yellow.

the sunset and sunrise can be both renewing and melancholic. the hue that transitions to orange has two different meaning when you’re talking about your boyfriend: can be both the argument and the reconciliation. the contraposition between these two is essential to understand why one color brings two types of feelings.

“koutarou, you aren’t being reasonable” you argued certain night, it was after a msby game – which his team won. it was a hazy memory to you, everything passed by in a blur. at one time you remembered hugging bokuto as the two of you celebrated the end of the game, then all you could see and hear was him dragging you out of the commemoratory party.

“how not, y/n?! that guy was fucking touching you” kou’s voice was loud, as he always is, but that volume wasn’t filled with love or excitement; no, all you could hear was angriness and jealousy. “and you weren’t doing a thing to stop him! you acted like your boyfriend wasn’t there”

“it wasn’t like that, kou!” the scream match wasn’t going anywhere with both of you stressed, with a deep breathe, you held eye contact with him. “I tried to stop him! tetsu saw me pushing his hands from me, but he ignored whatever I did! he still touched me and all I could do is act as if nothing was wrong, or else I’d be the hysterical significant other”

“c’mon, y/n, you’ve never really cared about what the media would say about you” bokuto mocked as he rolled his eyes, your heart clenched at those words. they weren’t true, how could you tell him about how you felt reading mean comments online? you treasured the bright smile he had, it was enough for you to keep going while receiving those kinds of insults.

“you know what, koutarou? I’m going to my friend’s house tonight. we are not going anywhere right now” with that, you left your shared apartment with the jacket you were wearing and the cellphone on your pocket.

leaving bokuto for the night was awfully painful. each day, before you fall asleep, the man’s embrace was like a sunset, a way to conclude your day. the explosion of orange, red and yellow as the sky grows darker was a signal that another milestone was completed with koutarou by your side.

arguments between you two were exactly like watching, by yourself, the sun hiding under the horizon after having company for so long. it felt wrong, but sometimes it would unfortunately happen, because no couple was perfect. but, what made bokuto and you different from others was the way that always the sunrise would come with closure of whatever hurtful feelings were reminiscent.

later on the next day, you’ve returned to your home. bokuto’s shoes were organized by the entrance of your apartment – contrary to the other night, when he just took them off and kicked aimlessly. the rice cooker was on, you could even smell the cleaning products you use around the house: an indication that kou did some of the chores you had to delay to attend his game.

“I’m home” you announced rather quietly, eyes scanning around in order to find your boyfriend. he emerged from the kitchen, a basket full of clean clothes on his grip and a tired expression on his beautiful face. “what… are you doing?”

“I know you use Friday evenings to do some chores, and since I’ve dragged you to my game you couldn’t do them, so I decided to be helpful at least once” he answered with a small smile. you could tell koutarou was tired – maybe feeling his muscles ache after such an intense game or just because he couldn’t sleep without you. “akaashi gave me the biggest lecture ever to knock some sense into my head, I wasn’t being fair with you”

“neither was I” the aftermath of every argument between you two would be like this: silently, spoken in whispers and reluctant touches. “I should’ve told you how I truly felt about those online comments… we’re supposed to share our worries, right?”

“yeah… and I should be more understanding about your fears and insecurities” koutarou placed the basket on the floor and stepped closer to you, a timid hand reaching out for you own, which you obliged quickly. “sorry, love. i had no right in yelling at you”

“it’s okay, baby” a smile crept on your face, your other hand brushes aside the tip of his hair over his forehead (being at home with kou meant seeing him with his hair down, it was a beautiful sight). “I’m sorry too”

as your lips touched once again, your own little world, where only you and bokuto were allowed to, was painted with the most beautiful sunrise. because that was what a relationship is: every disagreement ends with a reconciliation, a new day would begin from that. you two learned with a few painful sunsets that, after a fight, the way the sun would come up would be even prettier than the day before.

the most unusual shade of yellow in bokuto koutarou would probably be the same one as from warning signs. this simple association emanates all worry and fear that lays on the deepest part of koutarou – and you thanked god you don’t usually see it. his emo modes back in high school managed to hide the feelings behind his lack of motivation after many failures in a row; now, he shone bright yellow warning signs every time his heart wasn’t at ease.

despite of that, no emo mode would have prepared you to see the restless and worried features on bokuto’s face when you opened your eyes on a cold day. all your body hurt as your chest raised and fell from your breathing patter, the lights above you weren’t making the pounding headache of yours any better.

“y/n, love, how are you feeling?” koutarou asked frantically, needy for answers so his brain could finally calm down.

“where… am i?” you uttered, the words almost getting stuck on your dry throat.

“you’re at the hospital, babe” with that information, numerous scenes rushed back to your mind. how you were on the bus on your way home, the way it drifted on the street covered with a thin layer of snow and the side you were sat colliding against a lamp post. “you were on a car crash, do you remember?”

“yes, sort of…” still a bit confused, you turned your head to completely face your boyfriend. you could tell by the reddish skin around his eyes that he had cried and judging by his clothes – the msby track attire – that he was on a match before rushing to the hospital. “did you finish the game?”

“are you insane, y/n?” bokuto whined shaking his head, the grip on your heads tightening a bit. “how could I play volleyball knowing that the love of my life was hurt and on their way to the hospital? my coach allowed to leave as soon as the first set was over. when- when he told me you were involved in a car crash, I was so worried that you’d leave me- and seeing you laying on this bed makes everything so much more intense that-”

“hey, kou” you raised your hand to cup his wet cheeks, the tears once again started to stream from his eyes and that was one of the worst views you’ve had: his yellow eyes dull and watery. that sight would never match the ball of sunshine bokuto truly is. “I’m here, right? I woke up, see? I’m here, holding your face as we speak. the worst have already passed”

“I was so afraid, y/n…” he confessed quietly, leaning into your touch to ground himself. “I love you lots, babe, I am so damn glad you’re alive”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere without you, bo… you don’t have to worry”

bokuto was shining a bright yellow, indicating his wariness and worry, for the rest of the time you spent at the hospital. the big warning sign on his mind was put aside as soon as all doctors assured him you were fine, completely healed after almost a month after the incident.

even if that shade wasn’t a pretty one that bokuto has in himself, that makes him exactly the man you are head over heels with. he cares for you, he worries for you, he would do anything in a heartbeat just to make dure you were fine. koutarou gave all of him to you when you started dating, just the same way you did to him.

(the yellow warning signs would only appear years later when your first kid got sick for the first time)

and last, but no least, the most beautiful, breathtaking hue of yellow was the exact one he always shows you: his eyes. the way they’d look at you with such adoration and fondness, like he was screaming with his sight “this person next to me is the love of my life”, “I love you”, “you’re everything to me”.

this kind of shining yellow summarized koutarou perfectly: the excitement when he’s playing the sport he absolutely loves, the happiness whenever he is around his friends. but, on the top of everything else, the state of being completely – both mentally and sentimentally wise – filled with the purest emotions he could gather. that only happened with you by his side.

through the ups and downs of adulthood, you and bokuto faced them together as a couple, as best friends, as growing people. as every single day passed by, both of you were completely sure that this situation – you and him against the world – needed to last forever. you two needed to wake up illuminated by rays of sunshine cracking through the curtains of your bedroom; have in each other’s embrace every sunset and sunrise, eve the ugly ones; put every single yellow sign up whenever the other was in danger.

and the newest thing you added on your mental list like a masterpiece painted by your love was the way koutarou’s eyes shined so bright while kneeling on your knee. you saved in your heart the image of him holding out a black velvet box with the most beautiful ring inside, his hair down – the same way you love – and wearing his pajamas.

“will you marry me?” that sentence came in a blow, your knees buckling as your arms found their way around his broad shoulders. the tears of joy stained his shirt as you exchanged words of ‘I love you’ and ‘yes’ between sobs and fits of laughter.

your world was already full of color, but bokuto koutarou happened to make everything brighter and, at last, complete.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #bokuto koutarou imagines #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu!!#bokuto imagines #bokuto x reader #x reader

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aworldoffandoms · 4 years

Text

Lunchtime Confessions

Authors Note: This is my version of ‘the talk’ Ethan and MC will have after their kiss at the end of chapter 8. I hope this, somehow, helps with your withdrawal from OH. Enjoy! 💖

Here is the fic that you wanted @trappedinfandoms @cxld-play and @lifeof-liv! This is for all ya’ll too! Hope you like!

AO3 LINK

***

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC [Nicolette Valentine]

Word Count: 2, 565 +/-

Rating: G

Warnings: Fluff. No angst. Just fluff and some progress (finally)

Summary: Nicolette and Ethan sit down (with some chicken) to finally have a talk about where their relationship is going and what happens next.

I’m tagging my OH tag list but please let me know if you’d like to stay on it or would like to be removed.

Open Heart Tag: @senseofduties @polishchoicesfan @princess-geek @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @binny1985 @fanficnewbie @x-kyne-x @thefluffyphotographer @lilyofchoices @thecordoniandiaries @rainbowsinthestorm @cxld-play @jens-diamondchoices @hopelessly-shipper @my-heart-beats-for-ya @landofenchantedwonder @sabrinahoffersonsworld @flyawayboo @stanathanxoox @oofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @heauxplesslydevoted @bi-cookie @kingliamsbish @trappedinfandoms @supercoolperson0808 @perriewinklenerdie @riverrune @caseyvalentineramsey

***

LUNCHTIME CONFESSIONS

Nicolette scans the selection of food in Edenbrook’s cafeteria, the low hum of conversation a buzz in her ear as she concentrates on what’s in front of her. Nicolette’s nose scrunches in disgust at the questionable lasagna, soggy burgers and the very not-so-nice-looking stir-fry that reside under the heat lamps. Edenbrook was one of the best hospitals in the country but why did the cafeteria have the worst food ever? The only thing edible in what this hospital calls for food is a salad. It’s healthy but shouldn’t there be more of a selection?

Who has ingredients for salad and then decides to put sardines with it? Ugh.

Nicolette muses bitterly, her eyes flicking over the food with distaste. However, her gaze doesn’t pull away from the food even when her stomach growls with hunger.

“Sounds to me like you’re hungry, Valentine.”

Nicolette jumps, her gaze tearing away from the food to the tall man standing beside her, holding two Tupperware containers, his tall stature almost tense. His blue eyes regard her with amusement as flush pricks her cheeks at being caught staring at the food and her stomach growling.

The attending beside her gives her a small smile, the grin lifting his lips in a simple gesture that kicks her pulse up a notch or two. Her thoughts then go back to what happened the previous night and her knees threaten to buckle all over again at the heady, passionate embrace she had found herself in.

It’ll never cease to amaze her how much of a profound effect Ethan had on her and her body. He was like a magnet, always on the opposing force and she’ll always be drawn to him.

From the looks of Ethan’s expression and the way his eyes had changed to a darker shade from his baby blues, his thoughts had diverted to the same place as hers had. Her stomach does a flip flop, her skin alighting in flames as the ghost of the sensation of his hands on her waist, his kisses on her neck and her lips make themselves known…

Snap out of it, Nicolette!

It’s then that she realises what she’s doing and clears her throat, pushing her hands into her coat pockets to resist the urge to grab the diagnostician by the tie and mould his lips to hers and finish what they started without a care in the world to who’ll see them.

“Is there something you wanted, Doctor Ramsey?”

Ethan shakes his head as if to eliminate the cobwebs that have his mind thinking of nothing but the woman in front of him. How Nicolette had wound her way into his every thought continued to allude him but deep down inside, to a place he’s always tried to hide, he’s not surprised in the least. She’s the only one who’s gotten past his defences and stuck around. He’s not all that upset about that idea, in all honesty. Nicolette’s special and he’s quite happy about that fact. It’s better to have her here now than not ever.

Ethan brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck in a nervous tick, the Tupperware in his grasp feeling like lead as well as his tongue.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to, uh, have lunch with me considering all your help last night preparing it. I didn’t want to let it go to waste so I thought—”

Nicolette raises her hand to stop Ethan’s words, a laugh bubbling up in her throat. “Wait...wait. You actually saved me some?”

Ethan stares at her as if what she said wasn’t entirely obvious. Didn’t she realise that he listens to every word she says? Cares about her opinion? He kept his glasses and beard for her because she liked them. Isn’t that proof enough?

“Yes, I did.”

Nicolette’s eyebrows furrow as she takes a step back, her eyes trail down his frame until they spot two distinctive blue Tupperware filled with what definitely looked like the Georgian Stuffed Chicken from last night.

Nicolette’s stomach erupts in butterflies, and her heart swells with affection for the attending in front of her because it had become clear that he took her words quite seriously. Whether it’s dinner, his appearance or if he should keep his green jacket or go back to his old-grandpa cardigan.

“Why?”

Ethan’s next words confirm her suspicions. “Because you asked me to and I didn’t want to forget so I put some aside for you before I went to bed. My dad liked it so I’m sure you will too.”

A gentle smile graces her face and Nicolette has to resist the urge to grab Ethan by the cheeks and smoosh them together like he was a toddler because he was so goddamn cute.

“Hmm... I’ll believe you when I eat it.”

“You’ll never know unless you try some.”

Never did Ethan think he’d be nervous but alas, here he is, standing in a public place, where his colleagues can see him, asking his junior fellow to have lunch with him, whilst holding two Tupperware containers holding the meal that they made together.

Oh, boy. Naveen isn’t going to let him live this down.

Ethan’s nerves gave way to frustration when Nicolette hadn’t uttered a word for a full minute, her eyes sparkling in unabashed glee. He was aware that they only had an hour for lunch and that hour was quickly winding down. He huffs, pulling the containers closer to his chest.

“So?”

That single word held many connotations and Nicolette has to giggle a little at the implication of his tone. She read him loud and clear.

What’s your answer? Is that a yes? Will you have lunch with me? Hurry up and tell me so I don’t embarrass myself even more.

“Yes, Ethan. I’ll have lunch with you.”

Ethan’s shoulders relax at her confirmation and a grin lifts his mouth and he gives a nod before turning on his heel and heading to his office, Nicolette following behind him silently.

***

“Is it good? Do you believe me yet?”

Nicolette closes her eyes against the spice, the perfect mixture of both herb and spice exploding on her tongue and she has to suppress a moan from the taste.

“Mmm, this is wonderful, Ethan. Chef Ramsay would be proud.”

Ethan chuckles at her words. “I’m sure Gordon Ramsay is far better equipped in the kitchen than me but I suppose I should feel flattered at the compliment.”

Nicolette nods, smiling around the fork that’s lodged in her mouth. She swallows before saying her next words.

“You should. You both are two of the best ‘Ramsey’s’ in the medical and hospitality world. It’s a shame you two haven’t met.”

Ethan has to struggle not to choke on the chicken making its way down his throat but he laughs anyway, the food thankfully going down without any need of the Heimlich manoeuvre.

Ethan’s office is quiet as both he and Nicolette fall into a comfortable, companionable silence as they eat, both wrapped up in their own thoughts.

It’s then broken by Nicolette clearing her throat and it’s right there that Ethan can feel the air shift as if what she’ll say next will determine what happens for the rest of his life. He’s not going to pretend that the thought doesn’t scare him but, maybe, he’s a bit excited about the prospect? He’s lived too long in solitude.

His diagnosis is right with Nicolette’s next words. “Is it later yet?”

Ethan stops chewing, placing his fork down beside his container and squares his gaze on the redheaded woman beside him, a small chuckle of amusement escapes him. She’s definitely referring to last night.

“It’s been less than 24 hours, Rookie.”

Nicolette shrugs, her eyebrows raised and a mischievous smirk on her face. “Call me curious.”

Ethan regards her with bright eyes, the blue shade almost startling against his already handsome features. Nicolette has to remind herself not to stare too hard otherwise she’d burn a hole right into his face and she didn’t want that. She’s already made a fool of herself in front of him today, albeit, unintentionally.

He smirks, the corner of his lips pulled up in an almost mischievous tenor, one that was almost uncharacteristic for someone as level-headed and cynical like Ethan.

“Oh, I know. That’s one of the reasons why you are such a good doctor. You’ve always been curious. Curious to understand your patients and to research that extra mile to help them. It’s what you did with the twins who needed help with their insurance and it’s what you did with Theresa Martinez. You are special.”

Nicolette beams at the compliment, her heart flying out of her chest at the praise. It doesn’t come often and especially from a renowned doctor like Ethan. She’s more ecstatic at the fact that there was a softness to the praise that Nicolette doesn’t hear often and it made her melt. This was coming from Ethan...not Doctor Ramsey and, if she was being honest, she fell for him a little bit more than she already had right then.

“I love this praise, Doctor Ramsey because we both know it’s all true,” Nicolette laughs at her little joke and Ethan joins in. “...but I know what you’re doing. Stop skirting around the question. Tell me.”

Ethan leans back against his chair, the leather squeaking in the silence of the room. “If you insist…”

Nicolette leans forward, her chair inches closer to Ethan’s, so much so that their knees are touching, the atmosphere around them almost heady with expectation and the unreleased tension that always floats around them crackles.

“So? About us…?”

Ethan gives her a searching look, the blue in his eyes almost sparkling, a soft smile lifting his lips.

“Yes. Well…”

Nicolette nearly jumps out of her seat in frustration, the restlessness settling into her nerves and making her antsy. She restrains from whining but she can’t help a little of it to seep into her exclamation.

“Ethan!”

Ethan chuckles, his eyes crinkle with his laughter and Nicolette notes that it makes him all the more handsome. “Alright, alright.”

He takes a breath and continues, the nerves clearly getting to him as the sigh comes out all shaky. Ethan then looks up at Nicolette, the intense focus of his eyes earnest, truthful, as if he didn’t want Nicolette to doubt him at all.

“I’ve had time to think about this thing between us...and I’ve realised that I don’t want to restrict my feelings anymore,”

Ethan stops to gather his thoughts before he continues, trying to form a coherent sentence. All Nicolette can do is try to remember how to breathe.

There’s a definitive nod of his head before Ethan continues, his voice void off all hesitation.

“All I know is that I don’t want to miss out on something that is so good. You are so good. A beautiful, caring, determined woman who’ll go to the ends of the earth for her patients. I don't think I’ll find anyone else like you,” He smiles. “I think it's time for me to finally get rid of these expectations and rules that have ruled my life for thirty-seven years and just jump. Take a dive into the deep end. Take a leap with you.”

The emotion behind Ethan’s words are enough to make Nicolette’s eyes burn, her nose tingles with the onset of tears that are yet to fall from her green eyes but she’s hard-pressed not to squeal or sob right in her seat.

Even with his beautiful words, a sliver of trepidation runs down her spine, that doubt taking place in her heart. He’s done this before. He left for two months to the Amazon to get away from her. He doesn’t inspire much confidence in the feelings department as much as she wishes he did.

“Are you serious, Ethan? You’re not going to backtrack and preach to me about how you're an attending and you don’t want to distract me from my learning and this won’t work in the long run—”

Ethan surprises her by grabbing her hand, his fingers easily slipping between hers. The pad of his thumb caresses the side of hers in soothing circles. His blue eyes are earnest and warm, the sight of him looking so vulnerable and open makes her feel light-headed, her chest swelling with affection for him.

Ethan’s voice holds conviction and truth and Nicolette’s soul soars.

“Nicolette. I’m serious. I’m tired of trying to fight this. It was inevitable from the start— and I don’t know why I fought so hard to begin with. I’m a stubborn man and I know I’m stupid for taking this long to realise what was right in front of me. You are too important to me to lose to some trivial rules and boundaries that I have set between us. You are the most important person in my life...I don’t know what I’d do without you. My life has been changed and I thank you for being the catalyst for that.”

Nicolette doesn’t hold back the tears that fall down her cheeks and Ethan frowns while swiping them away gently, his eyes flooding with care and concern.

“Nicolette? Are you alright?”

Nicolette has to gather herself before she responds, taking a deep breath as her hand's envelope Ethan’s that was resting against her cheeks.

“Ethan, I am perfectly happy right now. I have been waiting months for you to come around and it’s paid off. All I’ve wanted from you is, to be honest with yourself and you've done that all by yourself so I’m proud of you but I also want to thank you.”

Ethan winks, the weight of what was to be a thousand tonnes on his shoulders for the past few months lifting. It allows him to breathe again, his heart at ease, so much so that he takes a cleansing breath, a radiant smile brightens his face at the feeling.

Who would have thought being honest like this would make him feel this free?

Ethan brings his hands down from her face, her hands encased between his and squeezes them. “Thanks for being patient with me. We’re going to make this work. I promise.”

Nicolette winks, a smirk lifting those lush pink lips of hers to the side, a gleam in her eyes. She feels so happy. So light. This is actually real.

“You’re welcome, Doctor Ramsey. You bet your ass we’re gonna make this work. And I have an idea how.”

“Oh? Pray tell, then.”

“Considering I’ve been so patient...you can make it up to me with a date.”

Ethan leans back against his chair, his eyebrows raising, his interest piqued. “Oh? So soon?”

Nicolette nods, the utter confidence in the action making Ethan grin. “Of course. We need to make up for lost time.”

The smile that graces Ethan’s face threatens to make Nicolette drop to the floor in a while of goo from the warmth flooding from him. But the laugh that escapes him following his smile? That was her favourite sound. So bright and so carefree that it makes Nicolette want to fly away into heaven and she would have if Ethan didn’t have a tight grip on her hands, his fingers entwined with hers.

Ethan locks eyes with Nicolette, his heart picking up pace as he stares into the green emerald of her eyes, so disarming that he has to remember how to breathe. A surge of excitement pulses through him as he says the next words.

“Well...I suppose we’ll have to remedy that as soon as possible, Doctor Valentine. Are you free tonight?”

#open heart #open heart 2 #open heart second year #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfic #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices fandom #playchoices

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Tentacles

Lawrence Beetlejuice Shoggoth, true to his surname, has tentacles. You want to see them; under some duress, he’s acquiesces. You need to make him understand it’s okay. Takes place following Beetlejuice Squared 2, Kiss Me Again ending. See the title? This is a dead dove, don’t eat kind of story. NSFW; Blumjuice/f!reader. Tentacles, hardcore tentacles, and some tentacles. @turtlepated @beetlebitchywitch @thirstypastelnacht @sapphic-florals @beetlejuicebeadoll

Enjoy!

“Can I see them?” Although you’d both been laying comfortably in bed, Beetlejuice tensed and sighed, a little. Ever since his fight with the shorter, asshole version of himself--he wasn’t letting that nickname go--that’d you’d banished, he’d refused to show you the shadowy tentacles that comprised some of his true form, no matter how or when you asked. But lying here, warm, with your head in the crook of his arm and shoulder and with your fingernails scratching lightly down the opposite side of his chest, making occasional pit stops to very gently tug his nipple shield, you hoped this time he’d give in. “I’m . . . worried, babydoll,” he whispered.

That was new. Usually he just told you no! You shifted a little so you could look up at him. His hair, although mostly green with some locks of pink, took on a deeper, purplish shade near the roots.

“Worried? About what?” you asked. Were those tentacles uncontrollable? Would they attack you? Were they sentient, like Doctor Octopus’s arms from Spiderman, and they would tear you apart? Were they rape-y? Beej dropped his eyes. “I’m worried . . .” he repeated, then stopped again for a moment before his voice became a near whisper. “I’m a demon, babydoll. If I showed you my true form, even part of my true form like my . . . tentacles, I’m worried you wouldn’t want me any more. I’m worried I’ll scare you, that I’ll just be a monster in your eyes then, and you’ll . . . kick me out.” The rejection part of his worry you understood. The other part, about seeing him as a monster? That made your brow furrow in confusion. You’d already seen him in that state once, during that horrible fight that ended with you banishing the other version of him away, and you reminded him of it. “Beej, sweetie, I saw you like that. And yeah, there was lots that was terrifying that night, but when it was over? They, the tentacles I mean, were all soft around me. I wasn’t afraid when you came up to me afterward. I won’t be afraid now!” you insisted. He nodded, but didn’t lift his head to look at you. “Why do you want to see them, baby?” he asked his chest. You lifted his chin. “Because they’re part of you. I want to know you.”

You’d learned that genuine interest in him made him flustered. His roots and now even some of the hair on his chest became a deeper pink. His mood ring hair, you’d called it once, and that made it even worse for him. At least he looked you in the eyes again. You loved the deep amber of them. “Really, babydoll?” “Yes. Really!” He licked his lips, and you got the hint of a split tongue, although you’d never actually proven it. Maybe that was next, after these tentacles you’d been wanting to see again! Beetlejuice sighed softly, and kicked the blankets and sheets off the two of you. Excited, but trying to restrain yourself because maybe it was unseemly to be too eager, you sat up and gave him some room.

There was no flash of light, or pressure on your ears, or any displacement of air. Beetlejuice, laying naked on your perfectly normal mattress, was simply, suddenly, enveloped with countless tentacles, each writhing separately, each as black as pitch. They seemed to move of their own accord, exploring the mattress, pillow, and sheets. Anything near them was touched. The fact that they appeared between one blink and the next was the most frightening thing about them; not that you’d ever tell him that! You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Beetlejuice ducked his head, misinterpreting your reaction.

“There. You saw them,” he said, and it was plainly obvious to you he was going to hide them again, after only a second’s exposure. You grabbed his hand, and immediately several tentacles from that side wrapped around your arm. You sucked in a breath, this time.

“Don’t you dare!” you warned him, without explicitly telling him what you meant. His amber eyes flicked up to yours, and he pleaded, “But--” “But nothing. I want to see them!”

Dejected, he once again dropped his gaze away from you, but the tentacles stayed. You hated when he looked so defeated or resigned. That wasn’t your intention at all! You just wanted to know more; you were fascinated. You released his hand but kept your arm near him. Not that you’d have much choice, anyway; the tentacles that had caught you hadn’t let go, squeezing your arm with varying degrees of pressure. A different one snaked up to your armpit, and the exploring tip tickled. You gently grabbed it with your other hand. “Sorry,” Beetlejuice apologized softly, even though his head was still down.

“Do they come out of your back?” you asked, as the tentacle you’d caught strained a little to get out of your grip. He gave a half shrug. “They can come from anywhere. It’s just easier to have my arms free.” Although he hadn’t moved, more grew interested in you and crept over to explore you. Several draped over his front, cloaking him in their writhing mass in an effort to get to you. They were soft; they felt like solid muscle encased in a slightly tacky velvet dragging over your skin. The tips had more dexterity, of course, nudging along you as if they were tasting. The thicker sections were heavy, and you could imagine being caught and crushed or smothered by their weight. One slipped around your neck while others delved into your hair. Once one discovered that poking and curling around one of your nipples made it tighten, another did the same to your other tit. Your arm hadn’t been released; two tentacles there seemed content to hold on to you, wrapped from wrist to elbow.

That didn’t prevent you from reaching to a thicker one near your hip and tentatively stroking it. They all jerked enmass at that, either jumping off your skin momentarily or pulling you along a little if they didn’t release you entirely. At the same time, Beetlejuice groaned softly. “Can you feel everything they feel?” “Yes,” he admitted, like he was ashamed of that fact. Your brow furrowed at the tone of his response. He didn’t see it because his eyes were downcast. Although he was blanketed, it seemed to you he was holding himself very still and stiff. He gave off the impression that, since you’d insisted to see these appendages, he’d much prefer to have curled in on himself. How would you convince him that you weren’t horrified? That you weren’t disgusted? With a smirk that once again he didn’t see, you stroked the same tentacle again. Once again, they all jerked, although in a slightly less surprised manner. His groan in response was as loud, however. Still concerned he was going to send them away, you pushed your hand wrapped so nicely by his tentacles through the nest covering him to rest on his chest. Immediately the ones covering him added their pressure to the two around your arm, and finally, he glanced up at you again. “Stay still,” you said, lifting the second word to mimic a question.

Beetlejuice licked his lips and gave a single, quick nod.

It may be slightly reluctant, but it was still agreement. With that, you drew your free hand along the length of one tentacle, then another, then another. They all practically vibrated under your touch, and several others attempted to nose their way into your hand, like a pack of jealous dogs vying for your attention. You laughed, and obliged. Beetlejuice seemed to relax a little. More confident that the specter below you wasn’t going to move now, you extracted your other hand from the mass on his chest. There was a bit of resistance, like they weren’t going to let you go, and you could understand how terrifying it would be to have them crushing you with ill-intent. But you were insistant, and they gradually let you have your hand back, although you couldn’t shake loose from the two that had taken up residence on your other arm.

Still, with both hands free, it gave you the opportunity to use them both, wrapping one over the other to pull upwards on one tentacle, lacing your fingers together to stroke the thickest one you discovered, and use both at the same time on different ones. Through all your stroking, you didn’t miss that Beetlejuice had continued to relax his body but jerked occasionally, and random moans slipped from his mouth. You’d been distracted by petting and getting used to feeling this shadow mass. When you finally glanced up at him again, you found him watching you play with eyes so dark they’d lost most of their pretty color. His lips were partially opened, and his tongue ran over the darker center of them. Your tongue wet your own lips in response. You brought the tentacle you’d been holding closer to your face. Without breaking eye contact with him, the tip of your tongue touched the tip of it, then you pulled it into your mouth with gentle suction.

The word, “fuck,” that slipped from his mouth was drawn out and breathy, and tinged with awed praise. There was no distinct flavor to the tentacle. You sucked it like you would his cock, then found that it continued to writhe a bit in your mouth, so you applied a stronger suction. Beetlejuice gave a full body jerk at that, and now, along with the countless tentacles that touched and surrounded you, his closest hand also found its way to first your shoulder, then your neck, then the back of your head. You met his eyes again, and although his were wider with surprise, there was also no mistaking the arousal there too.

With that, you sucked and licked each tentacle that came even close to your mouth. With the exception of the first time you’d met him and the other Beetlejuice had been with you, you’d never been with multiple partners; you could only imagine this is what a bukkake gangbang would be like. Sometimes you focused on one appendage, laving it with attention from your tongue as if it was the only one, but the others grew jealous and demanded a turn too. You continued to stroke the others like cocks too, for variety. Beetlejuice moaned and arched beside you, even though you weren’t directly touching his more familiar body. When you were able, you looked at him and saw that the fine tips of some tentacles were teasing his piercings, and another had snaked down to his groin. Before long, your jaw ached and spit had left a thin veneer over the lower half of your face. The tentacles were dripping too, and hadn’t been idle waiting their opportunity to dip into your mouth. They caressed you and squeezed you. One had wound around your upper thigh and applied pleasantly heavy pressure, and when a second one did the same to your other leg, you found your legs spread with very little effort on their part. With a mouthful of another tentacle, you could only cry out around it as you were cradled but shifted into a new position: reclining but not flat on your back, still on your knees, with your thighs spread. While your mouth continued to be filled, a few nosed down to your pussy, and when the tip of one explored your folds and discovered your clit, you arched and moaned. The tip of tentacle in your mouth elongated and brushed the back of your throat. You gagged, and it retreated, allowing you to get a full breath of air. “Sorry,” Beetlejuice apologized. You’d have answered him, would have told him it was okay, but the tentacles at your pussy fondled your clit more plus slipped into you, and you cried out more loudly at the pleasure instead. That made everything more frenzied. From head to toe you were engulfed in them, each trying to touch and squeeze and fondle you. The one--or two, maybe it was two?!--that had pushed into your cunt fucked you just how you liked it, hard and deep, and the one at your clit curled around it more delicately than you’d ever experienced as well. It wrapped completely around your clit and another gently stroked it. Electric bliss shot through you. Your breasts and nipples were squeezed. One nosed your ass, and at this moment in time, supported and crushed so pleasantly by countless tentacles, you’d have been okay with some double penetration, even though you’d never experienced it before. You writhed just as much as they did, moans and gasps filling the air when your mouth wasn’t occupied by one of them as well.

It was no surprise that when you came, it was explosive; euphoria short circuited most of your nerve-endings and you couldn’t see for several moments. You lost your voice with the intensity of the cry you gave, and your body shook uncontrollably as you came back down. Residual pleasure jolted you more roughly. You felt spent and weak, and were glad for the support all the appendages gave you.

That support made you feel like you were drifting, and it wasn’t until you found yourself with your knees on either side of Beetlejuice’s hips, staddling him, that you realized you had been airborne for a moment; you’d been lifted effortlessly by his tentacles and placed where he wanted you. That was a little scary and hot.

Without hesitation or explanation--although you most certainly knew what the expectation here was--it wasn’t his hand that reached between you to hold his cock steady. One of the tentacles did, and already wet and well used from them, his cock slipped inside you with no resistance, just smooth sweet friction. You arched your back and groaned again. Under you, Beetlejuice did too, tensing his core in lieu of thrusting with your weight on his pelvis. You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest and rolled your hips. He cried out again, overly sensitive as your fingers flicked his piercings.

The shadowy appendages responded to that by swaddling you. Many covered your legs; even more wrapped around your arms. They let you play for a moment longer, applying heavier pressure to his nipples, before they forced your arms up and out to your sides

“Beej--!’ you whined, unable to fight against their strength.

You were held with your arms outstretched, upright but spread-eagled atop him, your torso bare of them with the exception of the thinnest tips of the smallest tentacles squeezing your nipples and dipping down to your pussy to tickle your clit. You writhed in their grip. You writhed at the pleasure of his cock buried deep in your cunt. You writhed at being so exposed to him at his unspoken demand.

Beetlejuice lifted you slightly off him, still with seemingly no effort, and while you were suspended he fucked upward into you. You cried out till your throat was raw again. You clenched your pussy for him, wanting it to be as tight for him as you could. He continued a pace that should have been too fast for the position you were both in, grunting with each thrust, refusing to close his eyes but instead watching you with deep, hungry lust etched on his face.

You came again, and another orgasm nipped on the heels of that second orgasm. The third made you weak and you now you relied on his tentacles to keep you upright. You’d have collapsed in a heap on his chest if they hadn’t been there. You were atop him, but it flashed through your mind what it might be like to be pinned down by his tentacles and used however he might want.

It wasn’t much longer before Beetlejuice couldn’t stave off the inevitable either. Finally his eyes closed and he threw his head back as shoved himself as deeply as he could into your cunt. His hips jerked spasmically as he emptied himself into you.

For several more moments the two of you were locked in this euphoric haze, then gently, you were set down onto him. His cock slipped out of you and his come leaked from your pussy. You couldn’t care about cleaning up at the moment.

Like the first time you’d seen them, his tentacles enveloped the two of you like a shadowy, gently squirming blanket, holding you close to him. They never warmed, but felt nicely cool against your flushed and sweaty skin.

When a tentacle brushed your face you didn’t think anything of it. When what felt like a finger did, you managed to open your eyes.

Beetlejuice had a slight smile on his face. His thumb swiped across you cheekbone again, and you realized he was wiping away tears. You didn’t even know you’d been crying. “Beej . . .” you croaked. “You okay, babydoll?”

You nodded feverishly. You wiped your face, including your chin. You hugged him. You’d have liked to held all of him, squeezed all his form in an embrace, but there were too many to be contained. They’d slowed a little, and you felt them move more gently over your skin now. “Are you okay?” you asked in return. Your brain was too blissed out to think of anything more clever to say.. He smiled. “I’m good.”

You settled in against him, and ran your hand over his skin, not his tentacles this time. “I like them,” you told him quietly. “Thank you for finally agreeing to show them to me.” “With your reaction, I should’ve agreed to do it earlier.” You laughed and planted a kiss on his chest. The two of you lay quietly, and gradually, like smoke dissipating in the wind, the tentacles faded away. “You know, if we ever needed to make some cash . . .” you mused. “Hmm?” “ . . . we could always market ‘real life’ tentacle hentai. Porn sites would pay lots for something like that!” He threw his head back and laughed at your suggestion.

fin!

#beetlejuice #betelgeuse #writing #fanfiction #beetlejuice x reader

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danwhobrowses · 4 years

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Why ‘The Karate Kid Part II’ Deserves More Respect

So guess what film I finished watching today? Of course, the Karate Kid franchise is considered iconic mainly for its first entry; Wax on Wax off, Skeleton fights, Sweep the Leg and the Crane Kick all cemented its legacy that allowed Cobra Kai to also be such a success. But imagine my shock when the approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes for Part II is 45% - 21% lower than the Jaden Smith ‘The Karate Kung Fu Kid’ version (and Part III is scored 15%, which is also super harsh but hard to debate outside of the magnificence of Terry Silver). Originally this was just gonna be a general post of how much I enjoyed retreading Part II, but upon seeing that score I had to give it my ‘Deserves More Respect’ posts.

It is an off-chance, but if you haven’t watched this film there will be spoilers within, I encourage you to watch it before reading, and maybe watch it again if you have so it’s fresh in the mind

Let’s start with a controversial point shall we? There are several parts where Part II is actually better than the original. Now I know! There’s a lot about the original which is iconic, but nostalgia does blind you to other shortcomings and while it’s easy to sell the first part because of its mystique, a sequel has the added pressure of rising above and developing on old and new themes set by the predecessor. The Premise In case you decided against refreshing your memory. Karate Kid Part II starts with a recap of Part I, a bit of content that was meant to be Part I’s final scene (in the script, not for filming) and then a timeskip. Ali with an i is gone - brutally dumping Daniel for some Football Player before Senior Prom and after crashing his car, Daniel’s mother is in Fresno for work and Miyagi has received a letter from his home Okinawa in news of his father’s fading health. The stage is set for Daniel and the audience to learn more about the iconic Mr. Miyagi and the life he left behind. Okay, so there is bad in this film Part II deserves respect, but it’s not perfect. It definitely gets messy near the end with Daniel’s antagonist Chozen, he mainly took beats from Johnny Lawrence in physically confronting Daniel when he could with a bunch of no-named goons and he fought pretty similarly to Johnny in catch counters and leg strikes. The opening recap did take a lot of time too, while the ending remained somewhat abrupt having just beaten up Chozen to embrace Kumiko (who had a delayed recovery after being punched once). While not bad, a fair amount of retreaded content felt like downgrades of the original; Chozen and Sato lacked the charisma of Johnny and Kreese, the crane kick was far more impressive than the drum technique and the Tournament setting was grander than the O-Bon festival. But, there are Iconic Moments in this film too Part I may have the Crane Kick and the Skeletons and the Training and Sweep the Leg. But people may forget that Part II had awesome moments too.

Like Daniel chopping through 6 Sheets of Ice! If that isn’t one hell of a power play I don’t know what is. It is a moment genuinely impressive in and outside of the 80s cheese universe of Karate Kid, and it gets referenced in Season 2 of Cobra Kai.

Also referenced in Season 2 is Miyagi vs Kreese. While this is the intended ending for Part I, it certainly acted better at the start of Part II, especially given that is foreshadows the situation Daniel finds himself in at the end of the movie. This moment is equally iconic as it completely encapsulates the character of both senseis - Kreese the confident brute brought to a sniveling mouse when size and power failed him and Miyagi the cool-headed and vastly more intelligent fighter still with the cheeky prankster lightness to him as he honks the scared shitless Kreese on the nose. Perfect.

While I did want to cite the Tea Ceremony as well I think the more iconic moment for Part II had to be Miyagi chopping the log during the storm. The storm itself is a very well-done scene which unmasks several characters in the face of adversity. True tension, worry and stakes are sold as the village are in danger of the cruel whims of nature, an act which is all too real for Sato when the house he’s in collapses on him in the calm before his scheduled deathmatch with Miyagi. Not only is this again some great foreshadowing by the rule of three (Daniel asking if Miyagi can chop a log like Sato is doing with a banner and then Miyagi and Sato meeting and seeing Sato fail to chop a log) it proves a pivotal point where Sato turns from aggrieved antagonist to repenting ally. A great show of power and friendship as Miyagi metaphorically breaks the rift between their friendship that weighs Sato down. Okay, we hear you, but how is it better? I do have to preface that I do still love Part I, I have to because in pointing out where Part II is better I have to pick at Part I’s faults. While the ending is messy Part II definitely has much better pacing, until the skeletons scene Part I doesn’t really pick up because it has to set up, Part II while it does recap doesn’t need to worry about it. Giving Miyagi the main plot was definitely Part II’s strongest suit. Part I profited from Miyagi being the ‘mysterious old teacher’ but learning a lot more about his humanity and history was engrossing and it allowed positive development for Miyagi and Daniel, especially their bond as a surrogate father and son when Daniel personally goes out of his way to support Miyagi on a very personal matter. The main characters maintain their charm as well, still a lovely array of life lessons in Part II more than just finding balance, Miyagi teaches Daniel through words and action on taking time to breathe, to refocus when imbalanced, to forgive rather than to harbour hate, mercy, selflessness and humbleness

“never put passion before principle. Even if win, you lose.” - Mr. Miyagi

The scenes involving Miyagi and his father were some of the most deep and emotive of the series up until Cobra Kai, some still haven’t been topped such as Miyagi’s dad’s first words to his son or when Daniel talked about when his father died. And say what you will about Chozen, he does have a lot of Johnny vibes but a lot of the character we believed was Johnny due to nostalgia goggles was more fitting of Chozen’s manner. The story did a great job in making sure Chozen was always an asshole, at times Johnny did at least display honour and grace but Chozen was always sore about stuff and quick to claim dishonour even when he was in the wrong. Contrary to Johnny it’s more about his family than it is about a girl, which allowed a lot more freedom in the plot. Whether you felt Elizabeth Shue’s Ali with an i was prettier than Tamlyn Tomita’s Kumiko is up to personal preference, but the messy-haired Kumiko definitely had a slightly improved presence in Part II than Ali did, with actual focus on her own feelings outside of attraction to Daniel, her ambition to become a dancer directly linking to the O-Bon Festival - which in turn related to the Drum technique - as well as the delicately beautiful Tea Ceremony scene and actually contributing to the final fight (granted Ali wouldn’t be allowed to). Also Daniel didn’t try to eat her face which is a general improvement to the romantic subplot, extra applause has to go to Tomita here too because this was legitimately her first role - Shue had her second so that’s impressive too - and both women had good careers going forward. The increased stakes definitely worked in the favour of Part II as well, as sequel culture is forced to do, but by moving to Okinawa (actually filmed in Hawaii) we opened the door to better suit Miyagi’s world while keeping Daniel the fish out of water. I can’t speak too much for appropriation because there is still kinda some ‘white saviour’ undertones but I didn’t feel like Japan was treated negatively in this light, its culture of the O-Bon Festival and the Tea Ceremony was treated with the utmost respect and explained without pandering, the flute music had definitely stepped up its game for the soundtrack as did the imagery. Can also appreciate that Daniel does go for the Crane kick when fighting Chozen but is parried. Added hat tip has to go to costuming too. A lot of costumes would have to have distinct Kamon such as Sato’s twin fish and Miyagi’s bonsai on a lot of their clothing

Between Sato and Miyagi the colours of their clothes often code their emotions towards each other, with Sato usually in grey and Miyagi in white or cream, when Sato and Miyagi prepare for death they are in black and when Sato wants forgiveness he moves to a lighter shade. While Part I also used black and white to differ Johnny and Daniel, Part II put Chozen and Daniel in the more Japanese-themed Red and Blue. While both men wear red, blue and whites at time, Chozen’s clothes almost devolve from the white he debuts in as his darker side comes out before flat out embracing yellow after his chance to prove his honour in the storm is refused (and he’s in white then), while Daniel often moves to Red or red tones even in his blue shirt. Kumiko also moves from white to blue, sometimes even purple, in set up to the final fight to have the primary colours stand out in the colourful crowd of the O-Bon festival, but even in the blue Kumiko had red to pair her connection with Daniel. Also her Yukata at the festival is just stunning, the Great Wave off Kanagawa print is a nice touch.

Anything else we should know? It might not be much else about the film itself I can tell you, but I do appreciate something I’m starting to call ‘The Rocky Connection’ when it comes to Karate Kid. Like Part I’s ‘You’re the Best (Around)’ was shortlisted for Rocky III, Part II’s song ‘Glory of Love’ was shortlisted for Rocky IV’s theme, losing to ‘Hearts on Fire’, Bill Conti also chose to score this film instead of Rocky IV. I like to pair this with Daniel’s Rocky-esque character, he has that same kind of swagger but a lot more naive and childlike. Martin Kove also gets a nod because those bleeding hands were legit, he had an accident on-set and the footage was kept for the final cut. Tamlyn Tomita wasn’t the only film debut for Part II, B.D. Wong of...well, several famous roles including but not limited to Shang in the animated Mulan, Dr. Wu in the Jurassic Park franchise, Hugo Strange in Gotham and many more, also had his debut here in a minor speaking role when he’s handing out flyers for the dance party to Kumiko and Daniel before the Ice Chopping Scene. So, why does it deserve respect A film that adds to a beloved character in a respectful fashion without having really any god awful moments does not deserve a 4.5/10 rating. It may not have as emphatic an ending or as great a villain but it has a captivating plot and a good pace, better stakes and much more emotionally driven and responsive scenes. A lot of effort and dedication went into this film to explore new dimensions of the main characters in a fashion which was enjoyable and at times heartwarming. And characters are given human moments, even Miyagi confesses himself not to be perfect and it keeps each character grounded. Even to this day parts of Part II are remembered fondly rather than the campness that Part III had outside of Terry Silver and his magnificent ponytail, the fondness also continues to reflect in Cobra Kai with homages and fan theories of Daniel going to Okinawa again and even re-encountering Chozen. Not to mention it grossed $113m on a $13m budget and got nominated for a Best Original Song Oscar (losing to Top Gun) Part II was a good and enjoyable film which deserves far more credit than to be rated this low, for that it deserves respect.

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countessmorgasson · 4 years

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The New World

Julian x MC! It’s been a long journey, but MC’s convinced Julian to come home.

Gender Neutral MC

(Disclaimer: Based on Julian’s reversed ending, major spoilers. This scene is meant to pick up a little after where the ending left off)

You’ve been waiting for those five words for years, it seemed. Before you can respond to what you just heard, you play them over and over in your head, savoring the relief Julian’s voice brings.

Let’s get out of here.

At first, you thought you didn’t hear right.

Every day, for... who knows how long, you suggested leaving this place. Wherever this was. It wasn’t the world either of you truly belonged to. But nowhere you could go would take you back.

The Devil succeeded in his quest to destroy the barriers between realms. Whatever this place was now, it wasn’t your world. It was just a twisted shadow, a dying phantom of the places you once loved.

And none of it mattered when you reencountered your love. The creatures you’ve faced, the red skies and the ghostly lakes that beckoned you to swim for eternity... none of those things frightened you once you found Julian.

For years and years, the two of you settled within these broken walls, reveling in each other’s presence. It was all you needed. Not food, drink, or even sleep. Your physical needs withered away, bit by bit, each day- making it that much easier to stay.

But every so often, you asked Julian if he’d ever venture outside with you and the answer was always the same.

There’s nothing out there for us. Why would you want to leave? We’ve got everything we could need, right here.

But he must have snapped, because today you asked him once more, partially out of habit- and he agreed.

You’re gazing up at your lover- your partner. The light of your life. Your soulmate.

Jet black feathers coat his entire body, glistening in purple moonlight. Or is that the sun..? you’ve never known for sure.

He stands a little taller these days. His appearance haunts him no more.

“Why now?” You tear yourself away from your thoughts, reaching your hand out to clasp his clawed fingers. The physical touch is cold, but there’s a warmth in the interior- an energy driven by love, passion... by Julian.

“As each day passes by, the Devil’s hold on me seems to wither away.” He reaches up to you with his free hand, tracing along your cheek. “These chains aren’t what they used to be.”

Right as he’s said it, you glance at him in a new light. You see them sometimes- the chains wrapped around Julian’s feathered body in a perfect bind. He never let you touch them directly- and you didn’t push, because the same fear was instilled in your minds: if he broke the Devil’s deal, you’d be the first to suffer the consequences.

So, for now, you must bear to let Julian stay shackled. Not for the Devil, of course. For Julian. He didn’t need the additional torture of a broken deal. Not after what he did for you.

It’s really easy to lose yourself in thought these days...

“M/c.”

You look up, still hand-in-hand.

“Yes, my love?”

He repeats the words you were once dying to hear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The first step into the daylight is enough to make your heart hammer against your chest.

There’s something familiar about this street. The earth below you is tinged so red it almost makes you nauseous. That shade of red... so close to blood. The skies above part orange clouds, no indication of whether it’s actually day or night. Maybe neither exist anymore.

The worst is the path ahead. Twisted, and broken- all roads leading to a thick, foggy mystery.

There’s no way to know what lies ahead.

Years had gone by back with Julian inside... but your sense of time seems to have warped. If you were to run into any of your friends, how long would they say it’s been?

You stagger backwards at first, but Julian seems to be in even worse condition. He’s shell shocked at the sights before him.

“Has it been like this... all this time?”

“I think so.” Your hand finds his again. He’s nearly trembling, and for a moment you fear he may ask to turn back.

“Remember my dear, I’m here with you. I’m never leaving your side,” you assure.

It seems to be enough. Julian puffs up his chest with a renewed sense of purpose- the feathers on his back even begin to stand upright.

“In that case, I’m always up for a good adventure.”

You turn to him, nearly slack-jawed at his widespread grin. You haven’t heard him speak like that since...

Let’s just say it’s been a long time.

The two of you march forward, unafraid of what the journey holds for you.

You’re not quite sure, but you think you’re in the forest. A place you’ve only been to a few times- with Asra. Your dear friend.. The sight around you breaks your heart. The life that was once in here... has wilted down to something dark. Truly bringing a new meaning to the Dark Forest. Julian seems to note your disdain.

“It’s a shame.” It’s all he can bring himself to say. You know that tone of voice, but you look at him to make sure. He’s glancing down, with almost a defeated look in his eyes. “Would this have happened if I didn’t...?”

“Stop that. I’ll have none of it.” You squeeze his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts before he begins to drown in them.

The life you two have been living... has changed him. He’s still Julian, of course. Your Julian. And yet... there’s a piece of him missing. A piece you loved very dearly. A piece you’re determined to put back in place.

You continue to wander straightforward. If the paths haven’t changed, this should take you to Vesuvia. Possibly. You were just at the Rowdy Raven- or a version of it. It should have led you to South End, but you weren’t so lucky. You’ve yet to see the city.

“M/c, you’ve been thinking about doing this for a long time. How are you feeling about... everything?”

You take a moment to ponder. How do you feel? You feel... exhausted. You’d love nothing more than to find a little scrap of home in this mess, somewhere you and Julian can lay your heads in peace. You feel exhausted, heartbroken, hopeless...

But all of those things are better than feeling nothing.

You reach a small hut hidden behind the scraggly trees, feeling your heart leap into your chest.

“I feel... driven.”

You know this place. You’re sure you’ve been here before- right? There’s some familiarity to it, even among unknown territory. It has to lead to something good. Anywhere but here, you think, as the thunder above leads to rain. The droplets are cold against your skin, but not wet. Why can’t you feel the rain? You ignore the disturbing feeling and head towards the wooden door...

And into darkness.

This is a feeling you know all too well. Your senses begin to fail you as you fall, deeper and deeper through pitch black.

“Ahh!!” You shut your eyes, hoping- begging- that this won’t lead you back where you started.

“M/c?! I’ve got you!” You suddenly feel sharp talons close around your arms. Julian’s clinging onto you as the two of you seem to spiral downward. His voice is enough to keep you rooted in sanity. He sounds strong, protective... determined.

Was he experiencing the same fall? Something about him sounds so... new. New, and somehow familiar.

Your eyes flutter open, but you’re still in darkness. You’re not falling.

Julian’s wrapped his arms around you, and above both of you, his large wings have expanded, protectively wrapping the two of you in a dark fold. Small shimmers of light begin to peek out through his wings.

You know this place.

The shop!

It’s not quite the same, it’s twisted into something darker and hollow, but it’s the closest to Vesuvia you’ve felt in years. The closest thing to home... Now tears begin to well in your eyes when you adjust. You even start to smell herbal tea waft throughout the room.

“Oh my...” Julian’s eyes dart all around as he stands up, his wings tucking into his back. “I never thought I’d see this damned place again...”

He walks sheepishly, anxious to knock things over with the hulking black wings on his back. You’re still sitting, as if Julian still had his hold on you. “M/c, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. This is all you’ve wanted...”

“That’s not completely true. I love this place, I do. Even like this. But all I want...” you stand and stride forward to embrace Julian, who now looks as exhausted as you feel. “All I’ve ever wanted... all I’ll ever want, or even need... is you. You, my love.”

Are those tears in his eyes? You bury your face in his chest before finishing the thought. Even in this sudden wave of emotion, it’s more than you’ve felt back in that hell. You can sense the same for Julian, who holds back so tightly you almost hear your bones crack. You don’t care. It feels too good to be in his arms- height difference, feathers, and claws aside.

“I can feel it, my dear.” Julian’s voice sends a chill down your body. There’s something to his voice you’re noticing, something familiar. Listening to him felt like welcoming home an old friend. “We’re close to... something. Something good.”

Taking his hand, you explore the rest of the shop. The first thing you do, of course, is open the front door. You don’t see the city.

Before you is a village- maybe it is Vesuvia... but it’s not the one you once knew. It’s twisted and dark just like everything else you’ve encountered, but somehow, your heart feels light. Your gut tells you there’s something out there waiting for you.

Waiting for both of you to come home...

But you close the door and let your magic seal it shut. Just for a little while.

Your eyes begin to grow heavy, and your bones and limbs follow suit.

Julian takes notice and scoops you into his arms.

“I could go for a rest, too.”

You settle upstairs, in your old bedroom. It’s chillier than you remember, even with the window shut and locked. But it’s the real shop. You know it in your bones, your gut, in every part of your being. It’s a bit broken and warped these days, but it’s home.

You bring Julian tightly, fingers gently strumming against long, silky feathers. You truly admire them. They’re strong, resilient- brave. Those traits sure look good on Julian.

“We can stay here for a while...” You drift in and out of consciousness, finding warmth in Julian’s presence. He’s cradling you tightly, lips pressed to your forehead. His kiss makes you absolutely melt, deeper into his arms and into the bed below you. Everything seems so distant again- but it doesn’t scare you. It feels like... a journey ahead, one that you and your love have been waiting for all these years.

“They’re out there,” Julian whispers to you before you finally doze off. “Our friends. Family. I’m... finally ready to reunite.”

Your heart skips a beat, and in a quick moment of restlessness, you gaze up. The moonlight’s gone white. Like it used to be. It shines in a brilliant halo over Julian’s head. If you stare hard enough, you can almost see locks of auburn hair protrude through his feathers. He’s come so far.

“We’ll find them,” you agree. “Soon enough. I can feel it.”

“Until then, my dear m/c... we can have another night to ourselves.”

#the arcana #the arcana fic #the arcana julian #julian devorak #julian x mc #julian #ilya #ilya devorak #my writing #mine #fluffy #julian reversed ending

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