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1kook · 3 years

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BORN SINNER III

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summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning.

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver.

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else.

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work.

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone.

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow.

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again.

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears.

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards.

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning.

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good.

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life.

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you.

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands.

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word.

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him.

But still.

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess.

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning.

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience.

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned.

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants.

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet.

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord.

But he’s scared.

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you.

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character.

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t.

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made.

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors.

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs.

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up.

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.”

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you.

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease.

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean.

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes.

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead.

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness.

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there.

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything.

“__?” he says before he can stop himself.

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you.

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin.

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?”

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained.

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind.

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words.

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before.

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch.

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you.

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him. With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.)

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh.

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed.

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that?

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so.

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not.

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.”

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.”

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place.

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion.

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later.

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car.

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his.

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.”

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly.

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out.

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different.

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you.

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you.

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity.

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up.

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his.

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content.

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you.

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that.

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long.

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm.

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back.

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open.

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat.

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again.

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?”

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips.

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again.

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now.

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once.

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in.

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t.

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms.

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?”

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough.

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist.

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him.

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl.

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple.

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror.

The sight of him is… weird to say the least.

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface.

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down.

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side.

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck.

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day.

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close.

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday.

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips.

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself.

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him.

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?”

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him.

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.”

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space.

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin.

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you.

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it.

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress.

It felt good.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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pandemique · 3 years

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I love your style, do you have any tips for anything, like proportions, shading, etc. for digital art?

thank u :> i have tips in the #art advice tag, and a coloring tutorial here if u haven’t seen it. i’ll try to offer more about those other aspects below the cut!

i’m a total noob too especially for digital so i do believe other people will have much better tips! here are some who make very high quality art explanations: (these are all on youtube!)

Sinix (especially his anatomy quick tips series, soo goodd)

Marco Bucci (10 minutes to better painting series)

Sycra (more in-depth stuff)

Sara Tepes (slightly more stylized)

LavenderTowne (very stylized, comic artist)

lemoncholy (art-video-design, in love with her character design)

Kim Jung Gi (The god of anatomy & perspective)

i watched a lot of these when starting out; now if i have time i love finding individual artists i just love and try to break down their art to see what i love so much about it :)

i’ll try my best to explain my own style and methods!!

💙 Stylized

Faces: my style is very anime / chibi inspired, so that means regular proportions but cutesified, so more exaggerated childlike proportions -> big eyes, big heads, small (dot) noses. its lowkey a cheat to draw faster but still expressively hehe,,,

Bodies: mine are so basic 😅 i often use references and just simplify them into more basic shapes

i don’t do this enough but i really suggest pushing the shape language and also having clear silhouettes of who and what ur character is doing at all times

a sense of movement makes your art more dynamic and interesting and life-like. i try to keep my characters doing something in every panel, and even when staying still i think having a clear line of action is preferable (shoutout to @alkalinefrog and @li-wri for the best dynamics in their sketches imo 😌🙏)

For shading, i explain in much more depth in the coloring tutorial! I personally only cell-shade in one block the general area that i think would be covered from light on a multiply layer, and then add different colors for transitions (between shadows and light) and for secondary/reflected light (within shadows)

💚 Realism

for the most part, i agree that u prolly wanna learn to draw realistically in tandem with stylistically if u wanna develop ur art

to study proportion, i personally think there’s no way around referencing real people. i highly suggest quick figure drawings, gesture drawings and also breaking down figures into shapes!

shading is also something u learn through practice and develop intuition for, BUT i think if u look up tutorials on shading basic shapes like spheres and blocks, u can quickly apply it to more complicated shapes. u just need to know several concepts such as these:

i did this while trying to figure out a george design lol (i’m still getting there, that’s why he looks like a shapeshifter in my comics T_T)

and when drawing real people’s face proportions, it tends to have to be pretty exact, so i often use grids!!

i also saved some digital-specific art tips for someone who migrated from tradi:

know u feel hella rich with literally any color now at ur disposal, but limit ur color scheme!! not as in the amount of colors, but more so be more purposeful about the color set u choose (personally i find it good to mix both saturated and desaturated colors :>)

take the time to learn about the functions of the magic buttons for the program you’re using, i swear it will save time in the future

editing colors and proportions after you’re already done is a thing now and its amazing

there’s gLOW ✨✨✨✨ (play around with blending modes!!)

that’s all i got for now, i hope any of this was useful!! good luck, we’ll be learning and improving together for sure!!

#art advice #i should be studying but i keep making these so long lmfao #thanku for asking <3 #love u spadeswasfound

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quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Guard My Heart - Ch 2 Bright as Ever

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3

“It looks so great, Marinette!” Tikki squealed and Marinette sat back on her heels and looked up, smiling as she rubbed a forearm across her forehead.

“It really does,” Marinette agreed, her voice slightly muffled by the mask she was wearing to filter out some of the paint fumes. She laid her paintbrush carefully aside and looked up. “How’s it going up there?” she asked, and dodged a glob of black paint just in time. “Careful,” she scolded, scrubbing at the spot with a rag even though she had a drop cloth on the floor for just this reason.

“My apologies,” Wayzz said above her, moving so that his paintbrush was hovering over the paint can and not Marinette’s head. “You startled me. I am almost done.”

“Good,” Marinette smiled, and resisted the urge to tell him to hurry up. Wayzz was careful, which was why she had selected him to help her with this final stage, filling in the last of the narrow curlicues and flowers she had roughed in days ago. His care came at the price of speed, though, and sometimes his slowness made Marinette want to scream.

It was still more efficient to have Wayzz filling in the upper portion than for Marinette to get up on a ladder to do it, and the kwami was so happy to be helping that she didn’t have the heart to rush him, so she throttled down her impatience and walked out to the middle of the room to spin a slow circle and take it all in. She’d had most of the kwamis in here helping at one time or another, because this would be their home as well and she wanted them to feel some ownership and investment in it. The walls that surrounded her were now a soft pink, with her signature flowers in darker pink and black at all the corners and coordinating scrollwork anywhere that seemed too empty. Framed photographs from her portfolio were stacked in a corner and covered with a cloth. She’d hang those tomorrow, once the paint was dry. The back wall that they were finishing up now had her flower design on a much larger scale, framing the little sales counter. Fixtures and clothing racks were all shoved to the center of the room at the moment, but now that the painting was done, she could start getting that arranged. She wasn’t ahead of her plan by any means, but she was on track.

She noticed a shadow against the paper covering the shop’s front door just before there was a rap on the glass. Marinette waited for Wayzz and Tikki to zip out of sight, and then went to answer it. She was pretty sure she recognized the silhouette, and sure enough, Luka’s friendly grin greeted her as she opened the door.

“Hi,” he said, a little sheepishly. “I’m trying to move a table and I could use a hand. Would you mind coming over when you have a second?”

Marinette smiled. “I have a second now,” she said, stepping out and checking her pocket for her key before she let the door close behind her.

Luka chuckled and tapped the mask Marinette was still wearing, and she blushed beneath it. “Oh. Right.” She took it off, embarrassed as she rubbed at the lines she was sure it had left on her face. She opened the door again and dropped the mask back inside, knowing that one of the kwamis would retrieve it for her.

“You could just prop the doors open,” Luka suggested as they walked over to his space.

Marinette huffed. “I don’t like being watched while I work,” she replied, which was only half a lie. It was true she didn’t especially want people looking in on her while she was contorted around, potentially with her ass in the air, trying to find a good position to do what she needed without leaning into wet paint. Mostly, though, she didn’t want the kwamis on display for any passers-by.

She smiled a little as Luka held the door of his own shop open and motioned her inside. It had a more industrial warehouse feel, with exposed beams in the walls and ceiling, and low voltage lighting strung over the crowded space. Marinette wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out the multicolor slat wood flooring had come from the Liberty (it hadn’t, Luka had laughingly assured her when she asked, but he had picked it because it reminded him of home). Really, the whole place felt like the Liberty, and Marinette loved it, right down to the friendly, grinning cement turtle statue sitting by the door. The thing was knee high to Luka and while one couldn’t exactly call him pretty, his shell twinkled with embedded pieces of mosaic tile in many colors, and there was an air of mischievousness in his grinning face that made Marinette smile back every time she saw him. He looked exactly like the kind of thing Anarka would go wild for, regardless of the fact that he was incredibly, impractically heavy. She couldn’t imagine what shipping him had originally cost, and Luka’s story of actually getting it to its place by the door had left Marinette giggling uncontrollably. She was positive from the look on Luka’s face while he told the tale that it was never moving from that spot unless someone both bought it, and was willing to carry it away.

The whole shop was full of fun, eclectic things like that, as well as some more valuable antiques. Marinette loved it, and could picture in her mind the type of customer Luka was likely to bring in. She hadn’t told him that she’d already started a few sketches for his branding, based around a stylized boat. It had taken her a few days to get over the fact that he’d named his shop Second Chance Antiques and Curiosities . She had nearly laughed in his face when he told her, and that would have been really hard to explain. She’d managed to hold it in until she was alone, and then she and Sass had had a good laugh over it.

“Sorry I have to keep asking for your help,” Luka grunted, as they both took an end of the table he needed moved and shifted it. “I thought I had a plan, but there’s just so much stuff, I keep having to rearrange.”

“It’ll be easier when you get some customers in here and get some of this stuff—oof—out of your hair.” Marinette sighed as they set the table down in the area Luka had cleared out for it. “Maybe if you used the bigger pieces as sort of...display cases for some of the smaller stuff?” she suggested, stretching her back slightly as she looked around.

“Yeah, maybe,” Luka sighed, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Marinette put her hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. “You will. We’ve both got a lot of lessons to learn, but we’re both adaptable. We’ll make it happen.”

Luka made an affirmative noise, but sighed again.

“Luka,” Marinette said gently, and he looked at her with that same not-quite-there smile.

“I’m okay. Freaking out a little, but I’ll manage. I’ll be fine once the shop opens and things start happening, it’s just...the waiting is getting to me, I guess. It’s not like I don’t have a thousand things left to do to get ready, but...I don’t know, I’m not explaining myself well.” He looked away from her, and ran his fingers through his hair. It was hanging loose today, and the blue looked bright and fresh. He must have done a touch up for opening week, she thought absently, reaching up to tuck a lock behind his ear. His eyes darted to her with something like surprise and she drew her hand back quickly, self-conscious.

“You won’t know what the right choices are until you can get people in and see their reactions,” Marinette suggested, and the smile he gave her was real this time, real and grateful, and she smiled back. “You’re better at reading people in the moment rather than predicting people you don’t know—o-or at least you used to be—so I can see how you’d be frustrated trying to do this without any way to get feedback.”

“You’re not like that,” he muttered, smile falling as he looked back at the shop and sighed. “You’ve probably had a vision and a plan since before you signed the contract.”

Marinette bumped her shoulder against his. “You’re not me, though. It’s okay to do things your way, and not mine. Opening week is important, but it isn’t everything.”

Luka grinned at her, and Marinette felt her shoulders curl under his knowing look. “It caused you physical pain to say that, didn’t it,” he chuckled.

Marinette scoffed and folded her arms, and then muttered, “Maybe.”

Luka laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a little squeeze before letting his arm drop. “Thanks for the pep talk, Marinette.”

He was smiling now for real, and it didn’t fade, and Marinette felt unreasonably proud about it. She opened her mouth to say something, though she had no idea what, when Luka’s phone beeped a familiar tone. He frowned and pulled it out of his pocket, checking the akuma alert. Marinette leaned over without thinking to look as well, dread curling in her gut even as her heart pumped faster.

“It’s not nearby,” Luka assured her, and Marinette sighed, and then her eyes widened and she jerked back a bit as she suddenly realized how she was crowding him.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, quickly, backing up. “I should—”

“Watch out!” Luka was lunging forward before she even registered her calf hitting something hard, and he grabbed her arms just as she pitched backwards with a yelp. “I got you,” he said breathlessly, as he braced his feet and pulled her upright. “Sorry, that scared me,” he said, letting go of her quickly, his hands moving to tug the tail of his shirt nervously and nodding at the glass-top coffee table she had almost fallen into. “You could have really gotten hurt. Please be careful.” He grinned sheepishly. “At least until I get this place a little more organized.”

“Luka.” Marinette stepped forward and hugged him, and though his arms wrapped immediately back around her, she felt herself blushing, the feel of a man’s body against her instead of a half-grown boy’s suddenly forcibly reminding her that they weren’t teenagers anymore. “Couffaines don’t do organized,” she teased, keeping her head down so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. “Stop trying to make it look like you think it’s supposed to, and do it your way. It’ll be fine, and you can adjust from there.” She let go quickly and straightened without looking at him.

“I have to, um, go finish my painting before it all dries out or...something,” she said quickly, making sure she watched where she was going this time as she walked away from him, face burning. Stupid, why had she done that? Sure, they were friendly, and yeah, they’d fallen fairly easily into something like their old friendship. Luka had clearly meant what he said, about the way friendships come and go, and he seemed perfectly ready to let her take back her place in his life, and it was so easy to just go with it...

Not exactly her old place, she reminded herself firmly. That was hardly to be expected. He’d always been touch-oriented though, and had been touching her shoulder or her arm or her back just as casually as he ever had, so maybe the hug wasn’t a big deal to him. He probably hugged his friends all the time, and it’s not like he knew that she didn’t. Besides, she used to, and she probably would, if she still had friends—real friends. And Luka was a real friend, so there was nothing wrong with hugging him, especially when he was clearly so worried about whether he could pull off this new business venture. She was freaking out over nothing, surely. She could comfort him; he’d do the same for her—he had done the same for her, so it was her turn , after all, especially being the more experienced when it came to business and marketing, so...

Marinette rushed through the door of her shop and locked it quickly, and then put her hands over her face and shrieked into them.

“Marinette,” Tikki said sympathetically, flying up from her purse to pat her shoulder.

“I know,” Marinette mumbled. “Okay, um...I don’t think I can leave in spots just now without being seen so...let’s go out the back and try that alley a couple blocks over.”

Transformed and with her mind focused on the goal, she followed the general direction of the alert, and then the screaming, to a fancy restaurant on the roof of a high-rise. Chat was already there, crouched in the remains of the outdoor dining, clearly regrouping.

“What’s up?” she asked, landing next to him.

“This restaurant’s nearly impossible to get a table at,” Chat said grimly, with none of the joking humor he would have used once. “Big snob energy. Guess they snubbed the wrong person today. Best guess is the akuma’s target is the maitre’d or the manager, unless there was some random civilian that was especially rude. Looks like your standard entitled rich lady to me, though, so I’m betting on a beef with the restaurant.” He glanced at her. “You got here pretty quick today.”

“I’ve made some changes in my personal life,” she said carefully. “I’m hoping it’ll give me a little more freedom and you won’t have to wait for me so often.”

“Not like I have anything better to do, but I’m not complaining,” Chat grunted. “Give me the plan and let’s go.”

Ladybug sighed to herself. She had always wished he would take this job more seriously, but something had changed in Chat when they took Hawkmoth down, and while he had improved somewhat since then, clearly he’d been having one of the bad days before the akuma struck. Grim and cynical wasn’t an especially good look on him, and it worried her.

No time to worry about that now though. “Distract and evacuate,” she said. “We need to get the civilians out of there. Hopefully in the process we can figure out which one it’s specifically targeting.”

“Works for me.” Chat launched himself forward, ready to go as always, and Ladybug moved only an instant later.

The akuma was obnoxious and destructive, with heeled shoes that could shatter concrete and a banshee-like scream that left Ladybug’s ears ringing even after the cure. Ladybug winced as she looked back at the trail of destruction. Chat just flopped on his back on the rooftop.

“Could’ve used some backup for that one,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, there was no opening,” Ladybug panted, putting her hands on her knees. “I was afraid to leave.”

“Not blaming you,” he said, with a hint of his old humor in the half smile he managed as he turned his head to look at her. “Just saying. We could really use a hand more often.”

Ladybug made a neutral noise. She didn’t disagree with him, but…

But, but, but. There was always a but. But the rules . But identities . But it was her responsibility.

“Ladybug,” Chat said, the smile falling away as he watched her expression. “I really didn’t mean it that way.”

“I know,” she said, her voice coming out a tad too high. “It’s fine.” She held out her fist to him and he rolled over on his side to bump his against it. “I gotta get back.”

“I’m just gonna lay here for a while,” he muttered, and Ladybug sighed, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately.

“Don’t stay out too long, Kitty.”

“Yeah, yeah, beep beep. I got it.” He waved his ringed hand at her and then flopped back down to the roof. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting stuck on top of this building.”

Ladybug huffed a laugh, and tossed her yoyo.

She transformed a couple of streets away, and glancing at the time, she went up to the apartment instead of back into the shop. Several pairs of large eyes in small faces peeped out as soon as they were sure it was her, and came to circle around her.

“I finished the pieces you asked me to,” Wayzz told her

“We cleaned up the paint and sealed the cans that were left,” Pollen piped up.

“That’s great,” Marinette said with a tired smile, giving them each a cuddle. “Thanks so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“It is the leassst we can do,” Sass observed mildly, bringing a damp cloth to her. Marinette took it gratefully.

“Where?” she asked, and wiped at the spot Sass patted. The cloth came away smeared with flecks of half-dry pink paint. Ugh, did she have that on her face the whole time she was talking to Luka? How embarrassing. She handed the cloth back when Sass nodded that she was clean.

“I should go finish,” Marinette sighed, but instead she sat down on the couch.

“You should eat first, Guardian,” Pollen told her, hovering. “And rest. There isn’t much left to be done. You can finish it tomorrow.”

“She’s right, Marinette,” Tikki piped up, perching on Marinette’s shoulder. “You can finish the paint in the morning, and it’s on the other side from the dressing area, so it won’t keep you from getting the curtains up over there or any of the other things you had planned.”

“It’ll just delay everything by a couple of hours,” Marinette sighed, slumping on the arm of the couch. “I’ll see how I feel after dinner. I’d rather finish it tonight if I can.”

“Then you’d better go make dinner before you fall asleep on the couch,” Tikki giggled, and Pollen agreed, tugging at Marinette’s fingers.

“It won’t do for you to be skipping meals!” Pollen scolded.

“All right, all right,” Marinette giggled, getting up. “I’ll make dinner.”

The kitchen in her apartment was separated from the living room by a small but usable breakfast bar, so Marinette hadn’t bothered to get a separate table. Instead, she lined up the kwami’s plates on the inside edge and pulled up a stool on the other side of the counter to sit at her own plate.

She was just finishing up, her thoughts already running on the next things she had to do, when she was distracted by the muffled sound of...a guitar. The kwamis paused in their chatter, and Marinette sat with her fork halfway to her mouth, listening. After a moment she smiled. “It’s Luka,” she murmured. “His apartment probably mirrors ours, so his kitchen and living room must be on the other side of this wall.” Her eyes widened slightly in alarm. “If we can hear him, he can probably hear us if we get too loud. I can pass some noise off as the tv or the radio, but we’ll have to be careful.” The kwamis nodded, but Marinette shot pointed looks at Xuppu, Orikki, and Ziggy in particular. They all made faces at her, but nodded along with the others.

Everyone was quiet as she finished her meal, smiling as she listened to the wandering guitar. “It’s nice,” she observed to no one in particular. “It’s been a long time since I heard Luka play.”

It was funny, the effect it had on her. She could feel her shoulders sliding down, and a pleasant calm seeping into her. Had he really made such an impression all those years ago, that she responded so easily to the sound of his guitar even now? She took her dishes to the sink and stood a moment, laying a hand over her heart, and for a moment she heard a different song,

When she took a breath, though, instead of the scent of metal and river wind, the scent of lemon dish soap filled her nose and brought her back to the present. She smiled at the kwamis, who had busily stacked their little plates next to the sink and were filling it with water and soapsuds.

Right . All of that was a long time ago, and they were different people now. Still, maybe sometime soon she could come to one of his gigs and hear him play for real, and not through a wall. Though...it was kind of nice, knowing she was the only one who was hearing him right now. She wondered if he knew she could hear him.

The tune changed, took on a little more purpose, and Marinette smothered a giggle. No, she doubted he realized she could hear, because he probably wouldn’t be caught dead playing Love Me Like You Do with an audience, even if he did give it a bit of a metal makeover.

She’d have to let him know. Eventually. When she could think of a way to tell him that wouldn’t make him think he had to stop.

She hummed quietly along as she and the kwami finished washing the dishes.

“Are you going to go back downstairs?” Tikki asked, tilting her head.

“Mmm...no,” Marinette decided. “There’s still plenty to unpack and put away up here, and you’re right. I can finish the shop in the morning.”

The next few days were a blur of hard work as opening day got closer and closer. The shop was coming together, and Marinette took comfort in, for once, being able to get everything just right, without anybody telling her it should be different, or complaining that she was too fussy.

It was exhausting, though, and led to some pretty silly late night giggling with the kwamis as they tried to get her to rest before she made herself totally delirious.

The day before opening, she walked into Second Chance with a box in her hands, trying not to giggle openly.

“Hey, Marinette," Luka greeted, looking up from where he was loading up some display shelves near the counter.

“Wow, Luka, it looks great in here,” Marinette said, looking around.

“You were right. When I stopped trying to be strategic and just put things in where they felt like home, it all came together. I’m still not sure it’s the best arrangement, at least it feels comfortable. ” He looked much more relaxed, and his smile was easy and true.

“I think that will work the best for you in the end,” Marinette smiled. “The right customers will like it, and the ones who don’t, well.” She patted the big cement turtle on the head. “Probably aren’t looking for the kinds of things you’re selling anyway.”

Luka chuckled. “Fair enough. What can I do for you, Marinette?” He slid the case closed and stood, turning to face her.

Marinette bit her lip, and then held up the small box in her hands. “Well, I...maybe stayed up a little late last night, and I got kind of loopy, and then instead of going to bed like a smart person, I...did something silly. And if you hate it you can say so and I’ll walk right back out and we don’t ever have to speak of this again.”

Luka raised his eyebrows. “That sounds a little dramatic. What, did you make me a lace nightie with matching slippers?”

Marinette burst out laughing. “Okay, you’re right, that would be sillier,” she giggled, setting the box down carefully on a nearby table. “No, it’s not for you actually.”

“Not for me?” Luka put his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt.”

Marinette giggled again, pulling some things out of the box and turning away from him. “You might not be when you see it.” Impulsively she added, “Turn around.” Luka did, and Marinette hurriedly went to work.

“Okay, you can look now.” She was barely holding back laughter, and when Luka turned around his mouth dropped open.

“You’re kidding me,” he said, covering his mouth with one hand as he approached, trying to smother his laughter. “Marinette. Oh my God.”

The cement turtle now sported a pair of Eiffel tower sunglasses the exact match to the ones Marinette had made for Jagged years ago. He had a choker of studded leather around his long neck and another cuff around one ankle, and Marinette had hung a guitar made of cardboard and purple glitter on him as well.

“Tada!” she said, throwing out her hands. “He’s a rock turtle, Luka. Because he’s, you know, rock, I mean I know he’s concrete but it still counts. So now he’s a rock turtle for real.”

“I think those paint fumes are getting to you,” Luka laughed, and then threw one arm around her neck and kissed her forehead before letting her go. “I love it, thank you. It’s amazing.”

“He can be your mascot,” Marinette giggled, unreasonably pleased and trying to resist the urge to touch her forehead. He’d done that the way he used to do it to Juleka, after all, and how touch-starved was she, that she kept dwelling on every little gesture of affection he made? It was Luka, after all, and he was just like that.

But he was smiling, wider than he had in days, and it gave Marinette a sense of accomplishment that more than made up for her tiredness.

“Ready for the big day?” Luka asked as he crouched to examine the turtle’s new guitar.

“I think so. Yeah, I am.” Marinette brought her hands up and rubbed her arms. “It feels like I’m going to jinx it, saying that. Like one of those dreams I’m always having where I walk into a class or a client meeting and realize suddenly that I forgot to cover half of what they asked for in my presentation, and I forgot my bra on top of it.”

Luka laughed, rocking back on his heels to look up at her. “Seriously?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “All the time. Even my subconscious won’t cut me any slack.”

Luka shook his head. “Marinette, if that ever happened to you in real life, by the end of it you’d have them convinced that they didn’t need all that stuff anyway and wearing bras would immediately go out of style.”

“What,” said a dry voice, “the hell did I just walk in to?”

Marinette’s head whipped around to look at the door, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the tall, slender woman standing there with her arms loosely crossed and an amused smirk on her face.

“Hey, Jules,” Luka said, getting up and turning towards her with his arms out. “You made it.”

“Of course I did, idiot,” Juleka mumbled, but Marinette saw her hide her smile in Luka’s shoulder as she hugged him back. Then, to her mild surprise, Juleka peeked over his shoulder. “Hi, Marinette.”

“It’s really good to see you, Juleka,” Marinette said warmly. “You look fantastic,” she added, as Juleka came to take her hands and exchange a bise.

“I have good stylists,” Juleka shrugged. Her hair was still long, but the purple was gone and it was pulled back into a shining French braid, leaving both her amber eyes bare to stare at Marinette. Her makeup was perfect and Marinette remembered that Juleka was a cosmetics model now. Of course she always had to look her best in public. “Luka told me you were opening your own place. I can’t make the opening, but maybe...maybe I could make an appointment to come take a look?” There was something in the old Juleka in the way she asked that question, a slight curl of her shoulders and drop of her head, and the way she pinched one thumb and forefinger tightly together at her side.

Impulsively Marinette said, “Why don’t you just come over now? Everything’s set up and you can get first pick if there’s anything you like. Not that you should feel like you need to buy anything,” Marinette added hurriedly. “Just, if anything catches your eye or—okay I’m shutting up now, you probably don’t even have time, it doesn’t have to be now—just, whenever is good! If you want.” She closed her mouth abruptly before she could trip into another line of babble.

Juleka smiled, her head tilting slightly as if she were still peeking through that curtain of bangs. “I’d love to come over now, if that’s okay.”

“Really?” Marinette brightened, embarrassment forgotten. “Awesome! I’d love to have your opinion on—well, everything, to be honest.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“Oh sure,” Luka mocked, and Marinette jumped a little, looking at him. “You said you were coming to see me, but really you just wanted a sneak peek at Marinette’s clothes. I see where I rate.”

“As long as we’re clear,” Juleka huffed, and walked out of the door. Marinette stood gaping like a fish for a moment, and then followed her, shooting Luka an apologetic look over her shoulder.

“I’m sure it won’t take long,” she said, but Luka, smiling, just rolled his eyes and waved her on.

Juleka didn’t exactly gush; she was too collected for that, but her quiet smile and nod of approval as she looked around was more encouraging than a flood of compliments. “It has good energy,” she murmured. “Very you. Gives a sense of your brand from the beginning. I like it.”

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled, sincerely grateful.

“It looks like a lot of work.”

“It was,” Marinette sighed, “But it’s so worth it to see it come together. It’s scary to be doing this all my own, but at least I can make things exactly the way I want them.” She pointed out the curtained dressing rooms, and the pedestal in front of the (very expensive, even second hand) full-length three-way mirror. “I’m planning to do alterations and fittings as well,” Marinette explained, “On anything, not just my clothes. In a limited capacity, of course, so that I still have time to keep the shop stocked. I’m actually hoping to bring in lines from a couple of other independent designers—people I met in school that have an aesthetic that will fit in with mine, just to broaden the range of what I can offer, but...well, I kind of wanted to open with my own things first.” She smiled ruefully and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to drag anybody down with me if I go under in the first month.”

Juleka laughed, and Marinette smiled at the sound of it. “I’m sure that won’t happen,” Juleka assured her, still smiling. “These pieces are gorgeous,” she added, motioning to the photographs on the wall.

“It’s nice to see you happy,” Marinette said without thinking, and then bit her lip.

Juleka seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then she took a long breath that reminded Marinette of Luka. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it,” Juleka said quietly, that slight curl in her shoulders again. “I—I’m...sorry, that we gave you such a hard time back when we were kids. I...understand better now. This is a tough industry and you have to be dedicated and motivated to succeed. I’m sorry that we...well, I don’t think any of us meant to be holding you back, but I understand how it might have felt that way to you.”

“Oh…” Marinette said lamely, looking away and moving to fiddle with the nearest garment rack. “I didn’t—I mean, I felt bad that I had to bail on you guys so much, but I didn’t feel that way. I just thought, you know, you guys were right and if I wasn’t being the kind of friend you needed...it was okay. You’d have every right to be just as mad at me for choosing my career over you even at such a young age. I was ditching you a lot, and...I could have done things differently. Handled it better.”

“You had a life beyond school and beyond us,” Juleka insisted, folding her arms uncomfortably. “It was wrong of us to try and take that from you. I don’t know, maybe we felt guilty that we weren’t working as hard, or something, but...we could have made it work. We always made exceptions for Adrien because he was working a career outside of school. We should have at least extended the same courtesy to you. Especially when it was obvious even then how talented and driven you were. You’ve got what it takes to really make it, and it was wrong of us to get in the way of that when we should have been cheering you on.”

Marinette’s hands stilled for a moment, and it was her turn to take a slow breath. She felt a twinge of guilt, because Juleka of course didn’t know the whole story. It hadn’t been wholly for the sake of her future career that she’d bailed on her friends so often, and it hadn’t been determination to drive forward at all costs that had caused her to stop trying so hard to meet her friends halfway. Her reasons had neither been selfish nor noble. She just hadn’t had the energy to keep up the front any longer.

But she couldn’t explain it now any more than she could then, so all she could say was a quiet, “Thank you, Juleka.” She took another breath and lifted her head, trying to smile. “You really don’t need to apologize, though. I never held anything against you guys. Besides, we were kids.” Juleka relaxed a little, though she still held herself a bit stiffly.

Time to change the mood. Marinette rallied her spirits and put the most genuine grin on her face that she could muster as she faced Juleka. “Come on,” she said brightly, moving over to one of the other racks and gesturing enthusiastically for Juleka to follow her. “I have some things that I bet will look great on you.”

They already had several outfits laid aside for Juleka to purchase when Luka knocked and came in the door, the little bell Marinette had hung over it chiming cheerfully.

“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, looking up from where she was laying another dress across the sales counter. “Sorry, I guess we took up more time than I realized. Did you get bored?”

“Just wondering if my sister is still going to buy me dinner,” Luka grinned. “I’m starving here.”

“Then hurry up and die so we don’t have to listen to you,” Juleka called from the dressing room.

“I’m wasting away slowly ,” he called back. “I’ll continue to exist on spite until you feed me.”

“Do you need any help, Juleka?” Marinette asked, trying to keep her giggles out of her voice.

“No, I think I’ve—there. Oh, I like this one, Marinette!” Juleka pushed the curtain aside and stepped out.

“Hm, needs a little tailoring, but only a little,” Marinette said, eyes fastened on the garment, as Juleka made a slow turn. “Let me just—” She stepped over with a couple of clips in her hand and took the slack out of the dress in a couple of key places, clipping it in place. “There. And of course I can adjust the hem if you need it, but I think this length is pretty good on you actually. What do you think, Luka?” She turned and blinked at the look on his face as he stared at his sister. He looked...happy, but his face was crinkling up in a weird way that she didn’t understand.

“You look beautiful, Juleka,” Luka said, and had to clear his throat.

“Don’t you dare,” Juleka warned, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you dare get mushy on me again.”

“Better,” Luka continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’re poised and confident and...I’m just so proud of you. Five years ago that dress would have overpowered you and now look at you.”

“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” Juleka asked, rolling her eyes.

“I might,” Luka said, and his voice did sound a little thick. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I swear he’s cried at every single one of the photo shoots I was dumb enough to bring him to,” Juleka grumbled, giving Marinette a look of longsuffering.

Marinette giggled as she stepped close again and adjusted a clip. “He loves you.”

“He’s a sap,” Juleka groaned.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Luka and Marinette said in unison, and Juleka snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” she muttered, and then looked back with concern when Marinette somehow got the web of her thumb pinched in the clip and yelped.

“Fine, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly, fixing the clip. “There. Take a look.”

She helped Juleka up onto the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, and Juleka sighed. “I love it,” she said, glancing at the two dresses and the suit that were already on the counter. “I better not try on anything else though. It’d be a pain dragging Luka’s corpse out of the shop, and I’m going to go broke if you pull out any more perfect outfits. Can you check me out for these, and we can make an appointment for the tailoring later?”

“Sure! Give me just a second.” Marinette gave her a sheepish smile. “The POS system is new and it might take me a minute to figure it out. Actually you’re doing me an extra favor by letting me try this thing out before I put it through its paces tomorrow.”

“Hey, can I take a look?” Luka asked, moving around the counter at her gesture. “I still haven’t settled on one yet. I’ve got some ancient thing a buddy loaned me, but I’m hoping I can upgrade in a few months.” He leaned on the counter next to her and grinned. “I’m not above profiting from the months of research I’m sure you did before settling on one.”

Marinette giggled, shoving him with her elbow. “Off the counter,” she ordered. “You have no idea how many practice runs I had to do with the resin to get good enough to do a project this size.”

“I can tell,” Luka said, straightening. ”It looks really cool.”

“You’ve really made the shop yours in such a short time,” Juleka said, looking at the countertop. “Everything about it just screams Marinette.”

Marinette blushed, and picked up the tablet, tried to focus on walking Luka through the steps of the POS system, explaining the features that had made her go with this system as he leaned close to watch. He smelled different than he used to, she thought absently. Not so much sunscreen and fresh air and teenage boy. He wore cologne now, pleasantly subtle, and only noticeable when he was close like this. It was a more mature scent but it suited him.

“And then Juleka can put her card in here,” Marinette said, pointing to the slot in a stand on the counter. Juleka did so, and after a moment the machine beeped. “And...there we go.” She showed Luka the screen.

“Huh. Do you use it for inventory management much?” Luka asked, leaning one hand on the counter next to her as he watched her navigate the menus. She jumped a little when her shoulder brushed his chest, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Marinette cleared her throat. “W-well like you, I don’t really have standard inventory, everything is unique, so it’s a bit more work to keep the system updated, but—uh—” He was looking at her and not the screen, attentive, and Marinette’s thoughts began to scatter.

“Shameless,” Juleka sighed, shaking her head, and they both looked up at her. She smirked at Luka, and Marinette felt her face redden though she couldn’t have said why.

“Me?” Luka said innocently, straightening away from Marinette and putting his hand on his chest. Marinette was surprised to see his ears were red, and it only made her feel more flustered.

Juleka snorted. “I can’t believe you’re taking advantage of Marinette like this, you lazy jerk. I bet you cheated on your tests at school too.”

“I sat next to Dingo ,” Luka reminded her, rolling his eyes. “Believe me, I wasn’t the one cheating.”

“Whatever,” Juleka rolled her eyes. “So can we go now? I thought you were so—” Her lips curled in a smirk. “Hungry. Or was it thirsty?”

“I’m ready when you are,” Luka said quickly, coming back around the counter. “Thanks, Marinette.”

Marinette moved quickly to get a garment bag and package up Juleka’s purchases. It was Luka, though who took them from her with a warm smile. “Congrats on your first sale,” he told her with a wink, and Marinette felt that blush again.

“It’s hardly her first sale,” Juleka pointed out, picking up a small stack of Marinette’s business cards from the holder on the counter and slipping them into her pocket. “She’s been selling since collége.”

Luka rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “First sale from your first shop—first brick and mortar shop,” he hastily corrected, when Juleka opened her mouth again. “Juleka, you’re such a pain.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to compliment a girl, you need to be accurate,” Juleka smirked, as Luka began shoving her toward the door. “Good luck with your grand opening, Marinette,” she called back. “I’ll pass your info around the next time I’m in the studio!”

“That would be great. Thanks for coming by, Juleka!” Marinette called, waving.

“Why do you have to make everything weird?” she heard Luka mutter as he pushed the door open for his sister and nearly shoved her out of it.

“It’s not my fault you just are weird,” Juleka retorted, and gave Marinette one more wave before the door closed behind them. “Especially around—” The door cut her off, and Marinette turned and buried her face in her hands, not at all relaxed by the giggling that began in several hidden corners of the shop.

“Traitors,” she mumbled, and took a deep breath.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” Pollen said kindly, coming to light on her arm. “You should be proud!”

“Yes!” Tikki agreed, popping out of Marinette’s purse and coming to sit next to Pollen. “That was your first client consult for your brand new shop! And it went amazing! Four outfits!”

“And you impressed Luka,” Mullo pointed out, emerging from one of the garment racks. “He seemed to think you were very knowledgeable. ” The kwami giggled and poked Marinette’s blushing cheek. Marinette swatted at him, pouting, but he just phased through her hand with a toothy grin.

“Luka just needed some information,” Marinette countered, ignoring the snorting giggles that came from all three kwamis. “And Juleka was just being nice. “Though...I suppose she could have been nice without spending quite so much money,” she conceded. “It’ll be great for business if she wears the clothes, too...she works in exactly the kind of circles where word of mouth will be really valuable.” Marinette picked up her tablet and smiled as she punched up her sales history, and looked at the transaction there. “Well...I guess this does make us official, doesn’t it.” She held out her fist and Tikki, Pollen, and Mullo bumped it all in turn. “Come on, let’s get back to work and see how much we can finish up. I want to try and take it easy tonight. I can’t show up at the big opening looking like death.”

Fiction Master Post | LBSC 2021 Exchange Collection

#quickspins #guard my heart #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #lbsc 2021 exchange #rated: m

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takaraphoenix · 3 years

Note

psst! have you seen the new Disney Pixar trailer for 'Turning Red'???

I... I did... And oh boy. So I can't really tell by your tone where you're leaning on it, like if you came to mutually hate on it or if you came to hype, so I am just gonna dump the honest opinion on you and uuuh might go on a slight "ffs Pixar's design quality's gone to shit since Disney same-faced them" tangine, kay? Kay.

Gotta say, this is the one that makes me definitely know that I just hate the Pixar style by now? Like, it's been a steady decline since The Good Dinosaur where the obnoxious child was just huge eyes, huge nose, huge teeth. But... it's been downhill and lazier character-design since then?

It's not even necessarily a style choice, because the style is so incredibly copy/paste the same at this point. But they keep... dumbing the style down? Making it simpler, reducing the details.

Where annoying child still had individually defined hair, Onward stylized the hair more to one form. And Luca just reduced that entirely and gave hair that cartoonish one-mass feeling again (honestly, that whole thing looks more like animated stop motion in its style).

This follows the same scheme of big eyes, big teeth (the teeth truly bother me a lot about this style, tbh), big nose, reducing details away from everything to make it more and more simple shapes. I hate the shape her mouth has. Like, genuinely loathe it.

I'm sorry. This is slightly (but truly only slightly) off-topic, but it bugs me so much and it keeps getting worse with every new Pixar movie they release. Before Disney bought them, Pixar movies were individuals, with... genuinely interesting character designs, like I greatly dislike the style of Incredibles too, but at least it did something interesting in shapes and dynamics? Bugs Life and Toy Story had their own, individual feel to it, even when technology was still in its baby-shoes, they really gave their characters personality in the design.

And now that they have so much advanced technology and so much Disney money to burn - it's all not even just the Same Face problem, no, they keep going more and more simplistic too and it's a damn shame.

Now lemme get off my soap box again; I guess the red panda looks cute. It looks so fluffy (but the face bothers me, because, again, horrid design choices are being made in that studio).

Though I gotta admit, I think even the most complex and interesting design choice could not save this movie because the premise is just... so... incredibly... stupid? And somehow, the fact that she doesn't just turn into a regular sized red panda but into a kaiju sized monstrosity makes... even dumber. Which I did not think was possible.

I used to blindly consume Disney/Pixar productions because they're, I mean, they are the big ones when it comes to animated movies and I am obsessive with animated movies. But... this year, Pixar's really making me go "yeah no if it doesn't look appealing at all, I'll skip on that" for he first time in... my life... there is no Disney/Pixar movie I haven't seen, I even fucking made myself watch N*ghtmare Before Chr*stmas. But in recent years, it's just been far too repetitive and unoriginal and the design's stopped being charming.

#I mean ya did wanna know my thoughts #I assume #unless you really only wanted a 'yes I saw the trailer'#but I. uh. doubt it #and I ain't in the business of sugar-coating #y'all know that #also I haven't slept in 24 hours #and am overworked #so I MIGHT be a TINY bit #more ranty than usual #anyway I ain't gonna tag it #Pixar stans are strange in that they just #blindly worship any movie #that they pop out #like it's a revolutionary masterpiec #and I ain't gonna argue with that #it's a matter of taste #and this. has stopped being my taste #Turning Red (2022)

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clan-sayeed-fic · 3 years

Text

Business (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well)

Warnings: angst, smut

Rating: Mature

Author’s note: I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

Just like I promised, I'm posting the third chapter of the story 😄 I'll do my best to post the rest of the fic in the future. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't mind that it’s so long 😂💖

~ 2900 words

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Chapter 3

"Let me go!"

Despite all the power put into the scream, words had been stolen by the infinity of the forest. The only sounds echoing in the darkness were the drumming of hooves and loud breaths coming out from both: rider and his horse.

Just when the man thought that he managed to escape the jaws of death, some impossibly strong creature knocked him off from the saddle. His body flew in the air before hitting the ground, breaking bones.

The young, chestnut stallion stopped galloping as soon as he sensed the lack of weight of his owner on the saddle. This well-trained creature turned around, ready to stand by the side of the man that groomed him since he was only a foal.

But at the time he got closer to the owner, something emerged from the shadows, sneaking up toward them. The horse's ears went wild, moving in different directions. He lifted his head high, getting a better perception of the surroundings as all of his muscles tensed, ready to react.

That's when a harsh red light flashed in the middle of the road in front of them. Despite all the previous courage, the presence of an unusual for the horse predator awoke his instincts.

Instincts that were saying to run away as fast as possible.

The dust picked up around the wounded man, and all he was able to hear was the neighing of the stallion. The sound was slowly fading away, deeper into the embrace of the forest.

"Seems that not even a horse is willing to help you," a feminine, harsh voice came straight from the direction of the crimson light. "I got the order. You must know how these work."

He was her target, a prey to hunt down for her master, her creator.

She had been said to look for the leader of the village in this part of the land. There was a prophecy saying about the downfall of vampires. It pointed at this specific person becoming the cause of it one day.

Her master wanted to take care of it in advance. To make sure that vampires will remain at the end of the food chain for much longer.

So there she was, just doing her part of the job.

"My wife..." the man managed to speak, being interrupted by his own blood, making him choke. "My wife is pregnant, I need to be there..." another spit of blood, "...for her and my child."

The vampire approached the begging man. Just to kneel down, so she would be able to look directly in his eyes. To see his fear and unsureness about the future of his family.

"Oh..." a seemingly sympathetic tone escaped her mouth.

Just to be followed by the dagger aimed straight in his heart.

"...but you will not."

***

Hesitation hit Amy along with the cold air of the evening right after she got out of her car.

Words said during the meeting echoed inside her mind, filling the space with doubt. She was well aware that her attitude during the gathering might have caused the end of this collaboration before it even started. That she might have just ruined the deal on which depended a lot.

Only because her pride had to win... once again.

It was the hour of her meeting with Kamilah. To her surprise, the place that she sent her to wasn't the building of Ahmanet Financial by itself. Instead, she got the address to one of the fanciest neighborhoods in New York.

Amy drove there on her own without bodyguards. She didn't let her parents know about any of what happened so far. In that case, she needed to deal with the situation on her own, praying that she would have only good news to share with them later.

Full of hope, she stepped into the elevator typing the guests' code that Ms. Sayeed sent her earlier that day.

"Now, try to fix it, Amy," she mumbled quietly.

***

The elevator stopped, and doors opened with a loud click sound.

Did she invite me to her penthouse? Amy asked herself in thoughts, stepping inside unsurely, slowly taking in the picture before her eyes.

Her steps were quiet. After walking through a short corridor, she found herself in a spacious living room with a view of the dining table and the open kitchen.

But there was no sign of the apartment owner.

With typical for her curiosity, she looked over the place. The girl was educated in interior design enough to admire a modernly stylized space. The colors around her were outweighed by black, light grey white on the walls and dark, deep browns of the furniture. Here and there, she noticed some accessories in the faint shade of lavender. Everything created a well-balanced contrast, pleasing to the eye.

After a while of waiting, Amy couldn't hold herself any longer, and she slowly approached the dresser that caught her eye from the start. What especially got her attention was an old photograph of the CEO of Ahmanet Financial and some strangers posing in the picture, all smiling. She assumed that the photo showed Kamilah in the company of friends.

But the only person she recognized from it was Adrian. He looked exactly the same as when she met him for the first time. The only difference was visible in his clothes. Everyone in the picture seemed to wear garments that had been taken straight from a different era.

Was it taken during some kind of costume party? Or maybe just a long time ago, but... how long? The girl put her purse aside to place one of her fingers on the picture, tracing over its surface, lost in thoughts.

"I can see you're the nosey one," a deep whisper made her jump in surprise.

Amy turned around quickly, almost knocking the picture by doing so. Just to face a smirking Kamilah Sayeed standing right there with her arms crossed. The girl's heartbeat increased from sudden shock, making her attempt to compose herself fail badly.

"Oh," Amy felt her cheeks reddening without permission, "I thought you were in a bathroom, or..." she was making excuses, but it got her thinking.

Why didn't she notice the woman sooner?

"I was watching you," Kamilah answered like she was reading her mind just by staring intensively at the girl. "Let me invite you to my office."

After a moment of hesitation, Amy decided to leave her concerns for some other time. So she followed this tall, mysterious woman, getting further into the apartment.

She found herself amazed by how different this room was decorated in comparison to the rest of them. It was way more cozy and old fashioned there between these four walls decorated with ancient artifacts.

"I'm surprised to see you alone," Kamilah stood behind the desk, inviting Amy to take a seat in front of her with a hand gesture.

Documents had been already arranged, waiting for her to read them. But suddenly, Amy lost her previous boldness. Out of nowhere, she felt intimidated by the presence of this absolutely beautiful woman.

"I'm not always surrounded by them," the girl tried to focus on the files as the following words slipped out of her mouth without her knowledge, "I'm a grown-up."

Kamilah smirked slightly at this but did not make a comment. Instead, she sat down and let Amy read the new contract that she had prepared for her.

***

Finally, Amy picked up a pen after she read the whole deal several times to make sure she understood everything clearly. She signed it and put the pen aside, having a hard time looking at Kamilah's face.

"Could you stop?" Amy whispered with unusual shyness in her voice.

"Excuse me?" Kamilah's eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she didn't take her eyes off the girl.

"You were staring this whole time," Amy did her best to not drop her gaze. "And you're still doing this," she blushed uncontrollably, making the woman smirk with satisfaction.

Kamilah's shoulders lifted and fell with a short yet deep breath. She reached for the documents just to put them on her side of the desk, giving the girl a short break from her stare.

Just to intimidate her with it again a second after.

"Dear...Amy," she started with a pause. "Is that how you'd like to be addressed?"

"It's up to you, Miss Sayeed," thoughts screamed inside the girl's head, judging her for the lack of courage.

"Kamilah," the woman corrected her before continuing. "I was wondering... Your family tree is a truly generous one."

The girl stayed silent, waiting for the rest, but Kamilah clearly expected her reaction.

"It... certainly is," unsureness grew in her chest.

"For centuries, every single newborn in Paines family," Kamilah leaned back on the chair. She twirled her hair around one of her slim fingers, "was a boy, am I right?"

Amy's body stiffened slightly, but she forced herself to nod calmly in response. But her mind worked faster from then on. She started paying more attention to the topic of their conversation. Because they were touching some delicate matters.

Dangerous matters.

"You are very well protected by your family," Kamilah was circling around the subject mercilessly. "Your parents trust you with their business," she tilted her head slightly to the side. "That must mean you are fully informed in the type of clients they are working with."

Oh my god, I am so stupid, Amy cursed herself.

At that same time, her right hand slowly traveled up her thigh. Her dress was designed with a little pocket on the side. Big enough to hide there a small object without arousing suspicion.

In this situation, even such a small wooden stake was good enough for self-defense.

"And yet, you're here." Kamilah squinted her eyes, letting the whisper to escape her lips. "All alone."

It was too much.

Amy stood up, ready to run, but she wasn't fast enough.

The girl wasn't a fool. She knew too well that she could never be faster than any of them. But it was the last chance left for her.

And it still failed.

In a split of a second, she was pushed against the wall with her hands firmly held down her sides. Making it unable to escape even if she dared to put up a fight.

Kamilah's shining eyes moved from the girl's eyes to her lips, following the path of the vein pulsing on her neck. Corners of her lips curled up as she looked down at Amy's right hand. Her fingers moved along.

"And what, care to tell," she ripped the stick out of Amy's grip, "were you planning to do with this?" Kamilah threw the weapon away, filling the room with the hollow sound of the wood hitting the floor.

"I..." Amy tried to calm down her breathing. "I know what you are."

It made the woman close the distance between them even more, their bodies almost touching.

"Enlighten me," Kamilah opened her mouth a little, letting her tongue run over her sharp teeth.

Amy swallowed hard at the view, trying to get her body under control, without success.

Finally, she managed to look into the woman's eyes, noticing a spark of crimson in them.

"You're a monster," words escaped her lips without hesitation.

Kamilah's eyes changed to red in a flash as a performance of power.

But to her surprise, the view didn't make an impression on Amy.

Actually, it caused quite the opposite reaction. The closeness of Kamilah's body suddenly changed from threatening to intimate, spreading heat inside the girl.

The woman leaned down since she was a little bit taller, bringing her lips closer to Amy's ear.

Close enough to let her hear the whisper.

"Are you afraid?" her breath teased sensitive skin on Amy's neck.

The girl closed her eyes for a moment, knowing how bad this situation was for her. Knowing that the anticipation created inside her was easily perceptible for the woman standing just an inch away from her.

That she shouldn't even question her own feelings. She wasn't supposed to react this way around the vampire. Any of them, there was no exception.

At least she thought so until that day.

"I'm not," she almost moaned the answer when Kamilah's hands moved to her waist, eagerly pulling her closer.

Their lips met, letting them taste each other's warmth.

Kamilah teased her, fastening and deepening the dance of her tongue, just to slow down soon after. To step back, waiting for Amy to follow.

The girl climbed on her toes, wanting Kamilah's lips closer, wanting to feel the ecstasy of this feeling forever. She attempted to touch the woman's face after freeing one of her hands. Just to find herself being turned around with an impossible power in response. She waited patiently this time, pressed against the wall with hands behind her back.

"I want to hear you moan," Kamilah whispered into her ear, thrusting from behind.

Amy's dress raised up dangerously, showing her legs, giving access to her skin. Kamilah let go of her hands, and instead, wandered her fingertips all over the girl's exposed thighs, making her writhe under this touch. Making her place both hands on the wall in an attempt to steady herself.

She was breathing heavily, indeed. But that was not what Kamilah expected from her.

And she wanted to make it clear only one more time.

"I said something," her voice sounded a little harsher than before.

Kamilah's hand moved on the inside of Amy's thigh, squeezing. While the other one came impossibly close to the girl's underwear, which was already soaked more than she suspected it to be.

At that point, Amy couldn't hold it anymore, didn't really try either. She moaned through her gritted teeth, moving her hips to feel the woman's fingers more.

"That's a good girl," Kamilah smirked, leaning down to move her tongue on Amy's earlobe.

From there, she moved lower, placing kisses on her nape, moving her blonde hair away from her skin. As she made sure to leave hickeys on her neck, her fingers were teasingly playing with the material of the lingerie. Amy's moans became more urging, revealing her growing impatience.

Desire to finally feel it.

Her aching for the touch.

"You have no clue how much it takes from me," Kamilah muttered into her skin, "to not devour you right now."

These last words were like a dash of cold water that Amy needed at that moment.

She tensed immediately, causing Kamilah to stop touching her. The woman didn't assume to misunderstand her signs earlier, but obviously, something made the girl change her mind.

Amy freed herself from Kamilah's grip, pulling the dress down with shaking hands, trying to cover her exposed skin. To cover thighs that she wanted to have touched so badly only a moment ago.

"I should go," she blinked a few times to collect her thoughts.

"Easy, darling," Kamilah was astonished by this unexpected shift. "I assure you, I won't bite," her appearance showed unusual for her concern.

But Amy was already moving back, making her steps to the way out.

She felt so stupid.

So reckless.

"I..." she couldn't find the right words.

So she chose to say nothing, walking out of the room in a hurry. Vanishing like a scared teenager.

Leaving the woman in her office completely alone.

"That was... unexpected," Kamilah said out loud, pouring herself a glass of gin.

***

A piercing scream signaled her destination.

The well-known scent of blood teased her nostrils, leading toward the source.

After barely a moment, she found herself standing between the buildings of the village, looking at the scene through the window from afar. She heard the faint heartbeat of the woman in labor, growing weaker with every passing second.

"There's no point in saving her, fools," the vampire muttered to herself, ready to turn around.

But something inside her broke.

The feeling remained for barely one short second, obligating her to save this family. Like she owed it to the man that she left behind in the forest.

Without thinking any longer, she used her vampire speed to get inside the building.

To move among people gathered around her target as if she was a ghost. A nothingness that left behind only a gust of wind that was immediately blamed on the open window.

She moved quickly enough to cut her wrist with one of her fangs, letting a few drops of it leak inside a bottle placed on the desk. Poisoning the purity of the water with a deep shade of red.

Just to disappear soon after into the darkness like the shadow that should have never left it.

The vampire ran fast, distancing herself from the place before she could feel the regret inside her chest. Repressing the disappointment in herself because she just broke the most important rule that all of them had sworn to obey.

Humans should never, under any circumstances, feed on vampires' blood.

Maybe if she stayed there a little bit longer, she would know that her efforts were in vain. Despite all the power her blood contained, it was not enough to save the woman. Her heart was too weak to survive the labor.

It stopped beating, just to leave the village and the forest around it with the burden of silence.

But at that moment, the peace of the night was disturbed one last time with a sound of hope.

Weeping of a newborn.

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Next chapter: 4

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tag list: @evexofxtime @kamilah-is-queen @ariaminsinclair @helpconfusedpersonhere @ayushixo @nydeiri @vonda-b-real

#choices fanfiction #bloodbound fics #kamilah sayeed #kamilah choices #kamilah x mc #bb kamilah #vampires #f|f fic #w|w fic #w|w writing #an #smut #choices stories you play #bloodbound #business fic #kamilah sayeed fic

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sagasofazeria · 3 years

Text

Stranger In A Strange Land

Song of the Seven Suns, Part 1

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @hellishhin

Faulkron Rhodes was a long way from home. He stood on the deck of a small sailing ship, the golden light of the late afternoon sun glinting off of the sapphire waters, searing his eyes even as he shaded them with his arm. Looking past the glaring reflections of the sun, he could see the shoreline ahead, and a port city bustling with all kinds of ships. He was relieved to see land again, after being on the open water for so long. He had almost begun to regret his somewhat on-a-whim decision to cross an ocean and leave the land he’d grown up in. However, with a new land in sight, his faith was reaffirmed. Readjusting his leather armor and his greatsword on his back, he couldn’t help but be eager to see the new land ahead. As he stated at the port, he heard the captain of the ship called out to him from somewhere to his right.

“Hey, adventurer! We’re about to dock in Corias! Welcome to Leinos!”

From what the crew had told him along their journey, Leinos was a young country. Corias was just one of many ports along the coasts of a massive continent, and trade thrived there. Leinos had access to seas that connected it and every country Faulkron had heard of thus far, and more. An up-and-coming mercenary like Faulkron would do well there, he hoped. Supposedly, they were a peaceful nation since the end of the war between Leinos and the peoples further inland, so Faulkron hoped to have luck fighting problems they might not want to solve with their personal swords.

Eventually, the ship had docked, and as the sailors began to unload their cargo, Faulkron took his leave. He walked from the docks through the town, taking stock of the city. He could see tiled colorful roofs, and lots of hanging colorful cloths around the streets, partially shading the many people walking around, going about their business. Clay pots, cloths, art, all sorts of things in a variety of styles were being sold all along the streets, by people who looked to be from all over. He recognized very little of what was being sold here, and realized growing up on a small farm in the middle of the hills back across the ocean in Unterras probably wasn’t the best environment to meet new people. Regardless, he walked on through the city, taking in what he could. He saw numerous guards as well, dressed in silver-painted, hardened leather armor, with blue crests of dyed horse-hair adorning the helmets. An amount of guards he wasn’t expecting for a supposedly peaceful nation. In addition to the guards, he also thought he could make out some sort of fortress further inland, situated on a hill that overlooked the port, hanging banners depicting a blue flag with silver bordering, a stylized crest of some sort emblazoned on it.

He eventually found himself in a town center, with even more market stalls than by the docks. He could see storefronts of buildings on the edges of the square, as well as some sort of pavilion with what appeared to be people drinking and talking. He also noted a statue in the center of the square of a sitting man. He was well dressed, in long flowing robes. He had a thick beard, and curly hair down to his shoulders, his head adorned by a crown. Faulkron, in a remarkable display of intelligence, deduced this guy was probably important. He couldn’t read the plaque beneath it through all the people, but as he got closer he realized he wouldn’t have recognized the language anyways. He looked at it for a little longer, looking for some translation in Common, but was startled out of his search by a voice.

“Hey there. Noticed you looking at the statue, and I haven’t seen you around before. Who are you?”

Faulkron turned to the voice, looking for its owner. In front of him, standing significantly shorter than him (most people did, at his nearly 6 foot height), was a human woman. She was wearing simple light cloths and leather bracers. She had a lyre on her hip and a wooden violin case that appeared to double as a scabbard for the sword on her back. She had wavy brown hair in an undercut swept to one side that was dyed a vibrant purple at the ends, and tanned skin, like many of the Leinai he’d seen so far. He stared for a moment, still slightly confused as to who she was talking to, but she kept looking at him, and there was no one behind him but the statue.

“I’m Faulkron, Faulkron Rhodes. Who are you?”

“Well met, Faulkron. I’m Jetra, I’m a storyteller of sorts. This guy right here—“ she pointed at the statue “—is King Akeron II. He was the last king of Leinos. His son is Akeron III, the current king.”

“Oh. Didn’t know... Wait. Why’d you say you hadn’t seen me before? Isn’t this a trade city? Wouldn’t most people be unfamiliar?” Faulkron took a step back. He couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of the ‘storyteller’. She seemed overly friendly, and he wasn’t exactly used to just being approached and talked to like this. In response, the woman just laughed.

“You got me. I just thought you looked interesting. Plus, most of the people here are selling something, so that limits our conversational opportunities, know what I mean?”

Faulkron nodded hesitantly. Was everyone like this is Leinos? It would definitely take getting used to. He thought about leaving, but she began talking again.

“Well, what brings you to Corias? You look like the adventuring type, you going somewhere?”

“Not yet. I only just got here. I was thinking of finding some sort of job board, or maybe some other mercenaries?”

Jetra nodded. “Well, I can get you to either of those. I know a mercenary group that is based here in Corias you might wanna talk to, the Icaon mercenaries. And there’s a job board over by the tavern, near that pavilion there.”

Faulkron weighed the options, but decided a fully fledged mercenary company would probably pay better. “Let’s go to the mercenaries.”

“Alright then, come on.” Jetra began to weave through the crowds, heading further into the city. With a small shrug to himself, he walked off after her.

•••

Jetra was very interested in the adventurer she’d met in the marketplace. He looked to be extremely capable, judging by his extremely strong build. She’d quickly noticed he held himself with strength, and she knew she’d need it if she wanted to deal with her problem. She lead him to the Icaon mercenaries, walking toward their complex by the docks, where they trained and did most of their business. She turned back to her new companion.

“Okay, I’ve worked with some of the Icaon before, they’re generally pretty up-front. You shouldn’t have any issues. So, where are you planning on going? Thinking about heading inland?”

Faulkron thought for a moment, before nodding. “I guess. I just sailed here, so I figure that’s where I should head. Why, what’s that way?”

“Well, there’s the capital city, Anikora, to the east a ways, along the coast. Corias is actually the westernmost point in Leinos, other than the Ceana region down south, but it’s pretty far away. Between here and there is a massive rainforest, and you’d have to cross most of Azeria to get there. It’s a remnant of the war, seperated but technically still a part of Leinos. As far Leinai cities in this region, especially looking inland, there’s not much. Some farming villages, and I know there’s Kuretion in the hills before you get to Great Rainforest. We might find something near there. There’s a lot of land to explore, my new friend. I can help guide you, if you like. I’ve traveled quite a lot, gathering my stories. I’d be willing to help you get where you’re going, if you help me. You seem friendly enough.”

Faulkron took in what she’d told him. This new world was bigger than he’d expected. He figured it’d be smart to have a guide. Plus, if she betrayed him or something, he was sure he could easily take care of her. “Deal. We can travel together, at least for now.”

She grinned. “Great! Traveling is always more fun with someone to sing to, in my opinion. Well, before we set off, let’s see if we can get paid for it, huh?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Well, that was at least the first step done. And he looked like he had a somewhat solid idea of his own path forward, even if he was a bit closed off right now. She needed people who knew what they were doing if she was going to succeed.

As they approached the wooden archway that served as the entrance to the Icaon camp, Jetra raised a hand in greeting, and started to speak.

•••

Faulkron, walking behind Jetra, nearly stopped in his tracks. There were two guards standing watch at the gate, both human. One of them was leaning against the wall, barely paying attention to them at all, her eyes gazing vaguely into the distance. The other one, however, was a sight to behold. He had longer dark brown hair, tied into a small loose ponytail, skin that looked forged from bronze, and a sharp jaw with a fine dark stubble all across it. His chest was bare, save the leather strap that held on his shoulder armor. He was well muscled, and on his hips were two shortswords, and all of his gear looked like it had seen lots of use.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d been out to sea for so long, maybe it was the fact that the sun sinking in the west definitely complemented this man’s looks. Maybe it was the fact that his green eyes were so vibrant. Faulkron didn’t know, but he had forgotten for the moment about mercenary work and traveling inland. He was caught, in a cruel irony of words, entirely off-guard.

The man stepped forward, before they could enter. When he spoke, his voice had a rich accent.

“Hola. Why do you approach?”

Faulkron stood silently, still regaining his composure.

Seeing this, Jetra quickly responded, “Just to see if there might be any opportunities for me and my friend here. Figured this was a good a place to start as any.”

The man nodded. “Sí, you would be right. This is one of the few organized mercenary companies based in Leinos that hasn’t been assimilated into the military. We operate all along the northern coast. You can enter. Talk to Elikon, he’ll get you familiar. I’m off my shift at sundown if you need me, ask for Alejandro. I know my way around, if you need help.”

It was at this point that Alejandro’s eyes met Faulkron’s. They both paused, and Faulkron stumbled over his words before blurting, “Off your shift? Cool cool. I will definitely do that.” Mentally, he scolded himself. First hot guy you talk to in 3 years, and you’re making yourself look like a fool, he thought.

•••

Jetra turned around, surprised by how sheepish the massive warrior behind her sounded suddenly. She followed his eyes to the guard, and back to him, and realization dawned on her. She couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Faulkron, when you’re done talking to Alejandro here, come meet me inside?”

Faulkron nodded, still locked in some sort of awkward homosexual staring match with Alejandro. Chuckling, Jetra slipped into the compound.

•••

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” Alejandro smiled, watching as the elf in front of him quickly looked away, obviously flustered.

“I. So... yeah. What do you do? For a living. Wait no-“

Alejandro just laughed. You could always tell which ones had been stuck on a ship for just a little too long. He had to admit, the awkwardness of such an imposing warrior was quite cute. He was tempted to just walk inside, but he couldn’t skip out on another shift, he’d get thrown out of the company. And he was really trying to settle into a rhythm in his life, despite it not working at all.

“Listen, why don’t we talk after my shift? I need to do my job, boring as it may be. And I’ll give you a little time to collect yourself, maybe?”

The warrior just nodded, averting his eyes from Alejandro’s smirk. “Yeah. I’m gonna- Yeah.”

Alejandro stopped him before he went inside. “Wait. I never got your name.”

“It’s Faulkron.”

“Hasta luego, Faulkron.”

Prologue | Part 2

#Song of the Seven Suns #post 1 #Corias #Leinos #Faulkron Rhodes #Alejandro de la Espada #Jetra Avaki #d&d story #sailing #drow #bard #queer fiction #we’ll get to Azeria soon #promise!#gotta get through the first steps of the campaign first #Leinos is supposed to be Greek inspired btw #also if you’re wondering #yes that first interaction with Alejandro played out exactly like that #my friend had seen a bunch of ‘seduce the guard’ memes #he thought it would be funny #and I was like fuck it. he’s super hot now #and you see how it went #two posts in one day :O #this is not how it will normally go #but I ended up writing and editing both and it just ended up that they were both done today #I’m wondering if this is too long or too short?#would love to know what you guys think #sorry for all the rambling in the tags #thanks for reading!

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kernelbastard · 3 years

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god okay i love this let's seeeeee

oH OKAY I GOT ONE

Sir Billium III, and his butler

I'm here to challenge you

Hmmm... Alright, let’s get into it! (Also, thanks for being patient with this one)

I’ll do the Butler first, since he’s simpler. I’ll warn you, I’m not caught up on Tales yet, so I haven’t watched the full stream, but I have a decent idea of who the characters are, so... I may be way off, but I’ll try my best!

The Butler is a Unicorn. Originally, I thought I’d make him a Breezie (or rather, a close relative of Breezies that live in the End - so yeah, just Endermen, basically) since, y’know, Ranboo. But then I checked, and since he’s human(?), I can get a little more creative with it.

Unicorns have a natural affinity for sensing crystals, metals, and their magic, and that seems like a useful skill for someone working at an old-timey bank; in turn, it’s also the sort of ability a rich man like Sir Billiam would be looking for. His mask is encrusted with emeralds and rubies, too; I think at some point, it was established that crystals can be used to amplify and focus a Unicorn’s magic when worn close to the horn, so, yeah. It’s got utility to it, not just style.

I also considered making him a Pegasus because of how quickly he rushes around when given orders, and sometimes decides the most effective route is just... Straight off the top floor. But that felt a little cheap, and honestly, it’s funnier to me if he’s just Like That, fall damage and all. As a Unicorn, he can mitigate it slightly, but his stunts are still noteworthy because he has no wings to smooth out the landing easily; he’d have to either have to land in a roll, use magic to cushion the hard floor, or simply tank the hit and patch himself up later with a quick spell.

... And also, I just think his final scene with the sword would be even more badass with red aura. Up to that point, it could be foreshadowing, especially if both his eyes are green and he therefore has no red in his “natural” palette aside from his Cutie Mark, which, of course, is a lot more flexible and could also be influenced by the Egg. Maybe it’s even hidden by his coattails until the Egg is revealed.

Now, Sir Billiam... I think he’s a Minotaur, just stylized a bit to look more like a pig.

Originally, I was planning to parallel Griffons to Piglins, since they’re dealing with a similar background economic issue and are therefore stereotyped in a lot of the same ways, and they’re both just as plentiful as villagers (humans) / Ponies. But the issue there is that Piglins can’t fly, of course, while it’s an essential part of Griffon society, and besides, Griffons could also be set up as much closer parallels for Avians, like Quackity (sort of) and Philza. Also, if the Nether is still a realm all its own like the End is, that means Griffons are still born of the Overworld - so, again, they’re closer to Avians.

Anyway, as for what Piglins are in this AU, I’d say they’re also their own thing, sort of like how I’m setting up Endermen as Breezie relatives; they’re very closely related to Minotaurs, but split off on the evolutionary tree before developing their cousins’ bipedal stance, therefore convergently evolving a lot of what we’d consider Pony or Zebra traits. They’re bulkier, simply because of their ancestors’ sheer muscle mass, and generally develop more angular heads as they age; their color palettes are also fairly limited, since the Nether is a much more dangerous environment and camouflage became a higher priority than just flaunting shiny coats. They don’t have Pegasus or Unicorn variants - that really is mostly just a Pony thing, caused by their overuse of body-altering magic throughout history - but they do have something halfway between what a Crystal and Lesser Alicorn would be to a Pony. These are called Blades. I’m not getting into that today, but basically, they’re blessed with their own form of minor magic and are protected from the harsh atmosphere of the Overworld; of course, Techno is a perfect example.

Sir Billiam, though, is definitely not a Piglin this time around, because he’s not a Blade, but he can survive in the Overworld, anyway. Also, if any of these dudes were to go fully bipedal, it’d be him. He’s smaller than the average Minotaur, but that’s not saying much when you compare him to the average Pony; he’s still twice their height. Standing on two legs means his balance isn’t great, but that’s fine, because he has a Butler to do the more physically-demanding things for him. His tailored suit doesn’t have to be changed much from the original, since he’s standing upright.

#mlp #my little pony #dream smp #dsmp #tales from the smp #tftsmp #sir billiam #ranbutler #mlp fim

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level247-table-tech · 4 years

Photo

here are the sprites on their own! not all of them, but there are way too many to fit up there. i’m leaving the rest under the cut.

others include significantly asymmetrical sprites, as well as a bonus set. 8)

these don’t really clarify their relative heights. they are not adjusted to the bottom pixel i actually drew for sure, that’s not how i aligned them. i actually have a guideline in the file, but. i can’t really show that.

above are the regular sprites. it took ages to figure out what i wanted to do with virgil’s plaid, but it turned out going simple with it was the best plan. also it looked very bad until i figured out to use values correctly.

also, while we’re at it, i can tell you some things i changed between projects! this is a remaster of my last attempt at pixelology, and i do believe it’s an overall improvement.

virgil’s plaid, yeah, changed that, but also the colour of his hair, because the old one blended too much with his skin. glad that happened to virgil, because i was trying to keep the hair highlights the same for everyone, with differently-tinted shadows. i did give him a bat instead of the wings this time, because a, he seems like a bat kind of guy, and b, the wings sucked and i don’t think i could improve them. like, the best thing about those wings is that they were the ace flag colours, and since his general colour scheme is already like that, it’s not a spectacular saving grace. they also made the frame fit weird, but i don’t like drawing wings absurdly small, like why bother? i alos tried to be a bit more competent with the jacob lines in his shading. those are an indicator of fear so of course i wanted to keep them included, but last time i feel like i didn’t do great, and this time i think i improved. especially on the legs. it is kind of a pain how there are adjacent sections where the shadows are done in the same colour, but. that’s really who virgil is, let’s be real. wouldn’t be the same without the all-black clothes.

also, patton’s different skin tones were really bad, you could barely see the shadows, so i changed them. his overall shape also did not work, so this time i stylized it a bit more to fit with the pixels. also i gave him a different weapon. hopefully it’s still funny in its incongruity!

roman had very little change. like, i really like his original sprite! i did change some of the gold details, but the biggest thing is probably the pants. they’re white with a red stripe because, a, it looks very good, and b, it set up a parallel with remus.

and remus. most obviously in the first one, his different head angle super didn’t work. it was very bad! which, in his case doesn’t automatically rule it out, but this one looks way better next to the majority of these. i mentioned relative heights earlier and this one should actually be the same height as roman, you can align them by their chins. aside from that, i added a lot mor detail to his ruffles, i tried my best to maintain clarity on his torso, i got the sleeves just plain wrong, but it looks fine, and it happened to be very good art that led me astray on that, so whatever. i feel like his morningstar might have gotten worse between versions, but what can you do. maybe i accidentally put it at a slightly harder angle to make look nice. whatever.

logan! i don’t think i’m doing these in any real order, sorry. like patton, his shape has been changed to be more stylized to fit the pixel thing. like, a realistic taper on the legs, as it turns out, looks pretty bad! exaggerate it or make it just straight lines and it is better. i feel like i very much improved his hair, and i also added the belt that he wears which i forgot last time.

lastly, janus. well, lastly for now, but the next one won’t be a remaster of anything. i gave him his canon weapon instead of snakes, which, not sure what i was thinking gameplay-wise for those. [that’s a lie, i was thinking nothing about gameplay because i am no gamemaker. i’m not even an animator, much as i’d like to be.] when i made his last sprite, i forgot the lining of his cape is yellow. also last time i had not seen the magnificent longer cape from the game sections of svsr, which as i’ve mentioned elsewhere i am never letting go of, ever. so that features here. it kind of blends with the backgrounds i use for the vs character selection screens, but i don’t think that’s necessarily a downside. aside from that, i did remove some scales from his right hand because we have now seen it, and it’s proven bereft of those. as you’ll see in a second though, fortunately no such thing can be said of his legs. nor upper arm.

now for the bonus set. you may recognize this theme if you’ve followed this project awhile. 8)

some notes on these specifically:

-this is simply a complete set based on janus’ bonus sprite from the original project this is remastering.

-i tried to base the colours on their onesies. that proved harder than expected. remus and janus have no shown onesies, but

>i had janus’ previous sprite on hand, so that was him taken care of.

>virgil’s onesie didn’t really have multiple colours, so it’s just different shades of black, with some grey thrown in because white is already a base colour.

>logan’s, oh boy, i thought i remembered it having two colours, but i was wrong, it is just blue. and white, but again, that doesn’t work. so i gave him a couple of shades.

>patton’s, i didn’t really want to use grey as a colour, but it actually had two others, they were just in trace amounts. it was okay.

>remus. nghh. i wanted to use like, an inverted version of roman’s colours, but it turns out blue and yellow inverted is yellow and blue. so i used the orthogonal colours instead, and i’m not really sure it was a good look.

-aside from colour schemes, each of these has its own little variation, because i felt like having fun. aside from any kind of socks/leggings, because whatever, those are pretty variable anyway, each has one detail different. from most to least noticeable as i see it:

>patton has pants instead of a skirt. i just thought the look suited him better. the thing about patton is i always imagine him in Dad Fashion, which doesn’t have a ton of skirts in my mind. maybe that’s just my dad, but eh. i do think it’s a good look but i didn’t draw it very well.

>roman has a different crown. need i explain further? adding the others’ crowns was a bit of a pain considering how they interact with hair that isn’t drawn in anime style.

>virgil’s might not be too noticeable on its own, but the leggings kind of direct the eye there. he’s wearing his own boots instead of any variety of sailor scout ones. mostly because they are much, much cooler.

>logan has a different collar. closer to his usual polo than... whatever the sailor collar is actually called. he also might not have the same choker necklace as everyone else, but mostly you just can’t tell. still tied with a weird bow thing, though. how the hell do those bow accessories work?

>janus has a longer cape. again, need i explain further? he’s also the only one with a magical girl wand, because his colour scheme* was the most permitting and i really wanted to draw coily ribbons.

>remus is kind of like virgil with the leggings, but again, those don’t count, and with remus they draw attention away from his change. anyways, the different thing about his outfit is the sleeves. i only noticed long after i was out of the pixel stage that none of the sleeves are accurate, but his are even more not accurate, they do the poof thing. also his neckline’s a bit lower, but i mean, how could i not?

-i might assemble a full scene with these, if anybody asks. or nobody, i kinda just want to. it’s not too much trouble, but it won’t be animated this time, that took ages and i don’t think it even turned out well. i gotta find somewhere to actually get taught things about animation, though it also just does not gel with my medium.

-i can’t for most of these, but for janus i can talk about some improvements. his crown looks more visible, though that might just be compared to this side of his face. the skirt is not better and might be worse to be honest. also the bow on his chest. other than that it’s definitely better for the gloves actually being incorporated in this one.

*i do actually have set colour schemes for these. i tried to even limit the number of colours for each one. that said, most of them have exactly 17 instead of the nice power of two 16, and one of them couldn’t even fit that bill.

#sanders sides #tsfanart #pixel #my art #tabletech #8)

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wollfling · 3 years

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Hi Allie! I wondered if I could ask you for some advice. I want to draw really badly and create art but I really don't have any skill! I know that in order to get better at art I have to actually do it, but I feel so overwhelmed by how I'm not where I want to be with it right away, and also with where to start with learning to draw. Do you ever feel that way when you draw? And if you do how have you gotten past it?

[I am literally so sorry this is so long oh my God. My mind has been very jumbled lately so I accidentally rambled too much, but I hope it still helps you in any way orz] Oh sweet little anon.. ;^; I do feel that way, a lot of the time if not all of the time! Just recently this week, I felt like I just couldn't draw despite picking up my pencil and scribbling, it just wasn't working partly for that exact reason! Overwhelmed by not being where I want to be with it! These things happen and its frustrating. It's hard for me to imagine as a beginner artist because I've been drawing since I can remember but I will still do my best to offer you some meaningful advice!

But first, to answer your very last question, getting past it can be a little random sometimes. This whole week after being unable to draw, I was laying in bed trying to sleep while reflecting on some heavy feelings ive been having and memories. Suddenly part of an image flashed in my mind and I got up to immediately try drawing it. (The drawing I recently posted and captioned "parade"!) I worked on it completely driven by my heart, and so it didn't matter at the time if it looked good or was anatomically correct, etc. Right now I am working on another heart-driven drawing, but if I tried to work on lets say a study or character drawing instead.. I dont think i could!

My point in all this is that, I think that its important to know/understand why you want to create art, and I think my advice would change slightly depending on your answer. For me personally, I am an emotional artist. I create art that (usually) reflects how I'm feeling or topics I am emotionally drawn to. Illustrations, drawing characters, writing comics, etc.. I think this week, while I'm definitely struggling with my skill level, I was so burdened by some things I've been feeling lately that I couldn't focus on or enjoy anything that I was trying to create, until I was able to release it all in a drawing. (And I'm still not done with them hence why I am now working on another related drawing, but im making SOMETHING and feeling passionate which cannot be said with any of my other attempts this week.) So since these drawings purpose outweigh my current issues regarding my skill, I am able to work on them. If that makes sense?

Okay im sorry with how long-winded this all is so far and all about myself orz but I wanted to give context on how I view art and I think if you asked someone who creates like. Hyperrealistic drawings their answers would be completely different. So! I wanted you to be able to judge if my advice would work for you if that makes any sense at all...!!! Moving on to my actual advice then..!

This is a little general ofc because I dont know what sort of art you are creating, or what your passion behind it is. And if after this you would like to tell me more about your art I would love to hear! 🥺💗 you are welcome to dm me or if you send another anon/ask i think that would be good too since.. well other artists who see can also give their own advice too!

Okay. So anyways lol, first I want to tell you that your desire to create art makes you an artist, despite your skill level. And therefore, everything and anything that you make even now has value. Even if right now you're drawing wonky shaded spheres and cubes! I understand its frustrating when wanting to make something but you feel like your skill isn't "there" and how that can prevent you from making anything to begin with!! But I really want you to try and work through it! Ignore it, disregard it, give your worries about your skill the silent treatment!! And I know its near impossible to do but if its getting in the way of you actually creating well.. thats the worst! We can't have that. If you really want to draw, then you really NEED to draw, you know what I mean? You deserve to draw! The hardest part for like 80% of artists is working around their skill level. I promise you will get there, but for now, you can't let it get in your way. And I realize me saying "oh you feel like you're not good at drawing and its hindering you from doing it? Just do it" sounds like Chad advice but ;---; unfortunately its the reality that comes with being an artist. If you tell me more about what you like to/why you want draw then maybe we can find some alternate lines of thinking that will help you (for example "this tiger i drew looks like shit but drawing all of her stripes was therapeutic and made it worth it!" If lets say you draw as a stim, opposed to "this tiger im drawing looks so bad I can't even look at it anymore " dhsjhd I really hope that this all makes sense lol.)

Moving on, learning how to draw.. this also depends on what you enjoy drawing but my main piece of advice here is study from real life. I grew up drawing cartoons and anime, and now that I want to draw a little more realistically.. its so hard!! If you study real shapes/people/animals/etc it might be easier later on when you understand fundamentals to bend them if you decide to create stylized or surreal art. However if right now you like to draw stylized art, I would recommend to keep working on your personal style while studying from real life on the side simultaneously! Any way you look at it, understanding how shapes, lighting, colour, etc work in the real world will help you out even with the most obscure pieces. And since art is a learned skill yknow you need to build those brain..pathways..and such. Im not a scientist but you get what i mean. Studies are the equivalent to lifting weights! I would recommend the website quickposes (com) they have a library of images that they throw at you at random. The site can explain itself better than I can lmao, check it out!!!

I really hope i was able to offer you something of value here, I didnt mean to ramble so much. I'm excited for you to grow as an artist, I love when I hear about others deciding to learn how to draw ;-; please feel welcome to ask for any clarification (as im having a hard time articulating my thoughts lately) or if you really just want to ask or say anything! ♡♡♡ again sorry if this was more than you bargained for length wise dhsishskshksj

#im wishing you the best anon!!! you can do it!!!#and im 100% serious please feel welcome !!#also if any other artists want to chip in I think it would be fun! ♡

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talesofsonicasura · 4 years

Text

Diamonds and Voodoo

You Do Voodoo

A mysterious visitor comes to Morioh. Paths diverge and intertwine with the various townfolks of this crazy, noisy bizarre town. And it all started with a good deed touched by a bit of magic.

Good deeds tend to create ripples throughout what we know as life. Sometimes an act of kindness can lead to great rewards. At rare times the road to hell is often paid with good intentions. Nevertheless, this type of charity has a habit of changing the future of one or many individuals. For sometimes, a grand adventure begins with that very act of kindness.

"Look out!" Morioh, a small town amongst the middle of nowhere quite unlike many cities found in Japan. A type of place that tends to be quiet but also hosts some oddities within its dwellings. Unlike many small towns, Morioh would become ground zero for a strand of very bizarre events and each with their own level of danger.

A car was parked awkwardly sideways between the road and crosswalk. Upon closer inspection, this was a crash as the front end was inward from the telephone pole currently wedged inside the bright red metal. To the side was an abandoned bicycle alongside a police officer and what many from this town could call a foreigner. The officer holded the visitor close to his chest almost awkwardly, the telltale of being grabbed.

The officer was an older and surprisingly buff male, darkened grey hair hidden under his cap, eyes that had a natural glint of kindness despite the concern now shining for the person in their arms. A would-be victim of the car accident was a young woman around her late teens, between 16 or 17 from the bits of remaining baby fat still left on her face.

Her skin was slightly tanned in a more climate related basis, such as sun exposure than natural skin tone, hair a short messy lime green hidden under the top jaw of a dinosaur-esque skull, a 5'8 body that was slim, lean and had moderate bust along with curves, but it was her eyes and her arms that drew the most attention.

The young woman's arms were decorated in wavy almost vine patterned tribal markings with a four toes pad on each shoulder and her eyes had a unique case of heterochromia with the right being a normal orange but the entire left eye was blue except for a single white pupil. Her outfit consisted of dark blue fingerless gloves, red sneakers, light brown cargo shorts, a black bra and opened orange vest outlined in red.

"You okay there missy? That car almost hit you if I didn't pull you away in time." The officer questioned, his voice soft and kind in a sort of grandfatherly way. She merely looked up at him with a large impish smile. Not even scared or off-put that a speeding car almost made the teen paste on the street.

"I'm good mister! Just glad no one else got hurt either. Car accidents aren't something normal folks can handle and I rather get hurt than somebody else! I'm more than capable of taking some nasty hits!" The woman's peppy, slightly loud and light chuckle paired with the slightly morbid words had thrown the officer for a loop before he strangely found himself chuckling too.

"Hahaha. Well aren't you an odd but thoughtful young lady? I wish some of my friends on the force had that kind of energy. Everyone's been down as of late and honestly needs a pep talk or two." The greenette looked at his badge for a moment as if scanning for his name. Something that was quick to find apparently as it read 'Ryohei Higashitaka'.

With that in hand, she then reached into the pocket of her cargo while silently whispering his name. The officer or Ryohei honestly looked a bit surprised when the youth produced a peculiar item. It was a small brown wooden charm carved into a smiling mask. The mask was painted with red lips, yellow with green outlined eyes, large reddish eyebrows and four small feathers ranging from yellow, orange, purple and red.

"Please take this mister as a sign of gratitude. It's a good luck charm carved into the likeness of Aku-Aku, a spirit of protection. This charm shall ward off a great disaster in your future." The older man took the odd charm with a soft smile and looked it over. He softly chuckles before patting her head.

"Why thank you! It's pretty adorable and well crafted! I'll make sure to keep it close. Good luck is something a lot of people nowadays…" His eyes widened a bit upon realization. "Whoops! Careless me! I forgot to ask for a name. I am Ryohei Higashitaka, an officer of the Morioh Police Department. What's your name missy? I need it to file a report for ya and if you want to press charges." She merely gave an impish smile with a bit of her tongue sticking out.

"It's Taki-Taki, Taki-Taki Bandicoot."

Budo-ga Oka Middle and High School, one of the few schools within Morioh. A joint school where grades between 6 and 11th are together instead of being separate. It was also a place that had a quite an amount of delinquents which make up some of the school's student body.

Walking towards this destination from the local town square was a mountain of a man in very odd clothing. Hair was jet black and well groomed, eyes a bright ocean blue, body sculpted like a Greek God from every single inch out of 6'5 and a natural scowlish look on his face. Nearly all his clothes, from his coat, pants, shoes and torn back hat with golden pins stylized to spell Jo were white except for the man's shirt which was pitch black.

The man was currently looking over a paper, a report or letter from highly detailed it was in both text and a few select photos. His brows wrinkled in aggravation before muttering a soft 'Yare Yare Daze' under his breath. "Godamnit old man. You're too old to be causing this type of bullshit." He hissed, rough, husky and slightly aggravated tone to his voice making a few people steer clear of his vicinity.

Well… not just that. Unknown to the raven in question, there was something odd looking over his shoulder. This peculiarity was a mask of sorts. It looked vaguely human but the light blue material used to craft it was spectral from how it softly glow like wisps in the night sky.

An Aztec type crown at the top with four flat points as if it was a piece from a gear, large carved ears with faint spiral at the center, pure white eyes and mouth outlined in mauve, and the same mauve color to imitate flat eyebrows. Bystanders seeing the mask either quickened their step or blamed this bizarre sight as 'too much coffee' or 'no more liquor in the morning.'

"Huh. Guess an old man in his late 60s can get laid. Oh, so that's where the gardens are!" The young man nearly bit his tongue in shock from both the raspy, light and almost nerdy sounding male voice but also the fact it came from a floating tiki mask that took a closer look at his document.

He couldn't get a word out of his mouth as the mask flew off with surprising speed. "A Stand?! That means there's a Stand User nearby! You ain't getting away from me!" A bright golden aura began to burn around the adult upon giving chase to the airborne oddity. On the sidewalk, the man's shadow grew with the addition of a more peculiar one.

A few minutes passed when the chase was called off upon the mask being too far in the air to pursue, the extra shadow vanished as the adult male let a growl in annoyance. He lowers his hat with a curse. "Damn it. If that thing's responsible for the recent incidents going on in this town…" The man then went to a payphone before dialing in a number.

"This is Jotaro Kujo. Tell the heads of the Speedwagon Foundation that there is confirmed Stand activity in Morioh. Look into the database about a Stand in shape of a glowing blue mask and the possibility if it's connected to Dio." The phone was slammed down as the white coat of the man fluttered while he left.

"Poke!" A finger poking the little snout of a box turtle that had swam up from the water of the makeshift pond seated by a small bus stop. Sitting on the curb of the pond beside was the odd Taki-Taki, currently petting the small reptilian much to its pleasure. "You're a handsome turtle, aren't you? Much nicer than the big ones back home." She cooed while the turtle rubbed itself against her hand clearly in love with the kind contact.

A little whimper had the young woman look around in utter confusion. Soft heterochromia eyes soon met bright baby blue ones tinged with a bit of fear. That fear directed to the little reptile nipping at the greenette's fingers.

A 5'11 muscular young man with blue violet hair tended neatly into a large pompadour, a dark violet gakuran pinned with a yellow heart and gold peace on each side of his chest, sunshine yellow shirt that peeked through the gap of his uniform coat, and dark boots were the owner of these baby blue orbs.

"You okay? Look like you're about to pee yourself." Taki-Taki questioned upon the fidgeting male still looking at the turtle as if it tried to eat him. He immediately calmed down a bit now noticing he wasn't exactly alone, cheeks dusting a bright red. "I'm so sorry! Reptiles just give me the willies that's all, mostly turtles." His soft and slightly rough almost if still adjusting practically rattled with nervousness.

She merely chuckled whilst waving off any concern. "It's alright! Everyone is afraid of something so no harm done. Plus this little handsome fellow is much more kinder than the ones I've seen in Turtle Woods. Those turtles were mean and one tried to steal my hat!" Her spare hand pointed at the dinosaur skull on her head since the other was still petting the shelled reptile.

The pompadour wearing young man shivered upon the two words 'Turtle Woods' but was honestly thankful that she wasn't making fun of him for his phobia. Taki-Taki then stood up whilst petting the turtle's head one more time. "I better go! Promised to get some stuff with my friend Lani-Loli and we're supposed to meet up at the gardens! Chou!" And she was gone with a pep to her step.

"My name is Josuke Higashitaka… And she's gone. Maybe I'll see her again." The sound of male cursing grew as the purple pomp prince noticed a bunch of male students coming over to him. Delinquents from their rude, downlooking and glaring faces, something that only made him sigh. Days like these tend to suck.

The Higashitaka household, home to the Higashitaka family which consisted of the older police officer Ryohei, his daughter but also single mother Tomoko and Tomoko's son Josuke. A lively place from the unique personalities of the three living inside. Well, it wasn't like this right now.

Peculiar water slipping away from the house window almost like a cobra finished with their prey. A fact so true upon the still body of the family matriarch lying lifeless on the floor. Face carved in blood coated horror slowly changes to a pristine clean outlook through a soft golden aura. Almost if the man died in his slumber and not of gruesome supernatural murder.

The golden aura belonging to a bubblegum arm coated in crystalline diamond armor soon vanishes inside the body of Josuke. Behind Josuke was Jotaro, the man clad in white being a relative, his nephew shockingly taken into consideration that his grandfather was the pomp prince's father. Who knew?

And the older man could only look at the teen that was his uncle trying to coax his dead grandfather back to life with sympathetic pity. Aquamarine eyes that always seemed stuck in a perpetual glare now softened at the scene. The look of someone who had seen a death like this before. Or to be more precise, had experienced such a grizzly sight.

Jotaro knew that this wasn't the time for grief fueled hysterics. There were more pressing matters and dangers ready to drown them from the inside. "Josuke…" Any further words from the older man, alongside any actions from the teen immediately stopped upon one thing. Subtle movement originating from the chest of the officer's corpse before them.

A sickly sweet scent reminiscent of cherries filled the air along with the soft sizzle of something burning. Thin wisps of smoke coming from the body's chest pocket spurred Josuke to go into the clothing's pouch. Baby blue eyes widened seeing a small brown tiki charm in his hands but specifically the feathers that were turning to dust.

"A voodoo charm?" The purplette's attention immediately went back to the corpse of his grandfather. His still chest slowly began to rise and fall almost as if… "He's breathing." It was the only conclusion Jotaro came to upon the subtle movements. The charm in the teenager's hands fully became ash once his previously deceased grandfather sat up looking purely confused.

"Ooh my head… I don't remember my favorite booze having that strong of a kick. Josuke? What are you doing here since I thought you were going out? Who's this guy? And why are you crying?" Ryohei didn't expect to wake up to such a scene or his own grandson to hug him so hard thinking he was about to kick the bucket.

He was quick however to notice the scent of cherry in the air alongside a missing weight in his breast pocket. "Did someone light a scented candle and where did my good luck charm go? Was I mugged or something Josuke?" The elderly man's inquiry had the two younger men share the same look. They needed answers.

/"You want to know who gave me that charm? Well, it was a young girl around my grandson's age. She had green hair, heterochromia with her eyes being orange and blue, and had what looked like a dinosaur skull on her head. Said her name Taki-Taki Bandicoot and came into town looking for ingredients. The charm was based off of a guardian of protection... Aku-Aku I believe she said."/

Information that had both Jotaro and his younger uncle running through the streets of Morioh in a hurry. Ryohei had been put into protective custody with a short call from whoever the raven had pretty high connections to. Something that man would have refused if it wasn't for the fact his son was crying. Josuke only cried when things were at the absolute worst. This made it easier to search without the man being in danger once more.

"I never thought my life would have gotten this insane. First an escaped death row inmate capable of killing his victims from the inside with water and now a Stand User capable of bringing back the dead! Things weren't like this until you came to town!" The highschooler quipped as if to ignore the harsh ache going through his legs.

"Your life was bound to become bizarre the moment you awakened your Stand, no, the moment you were born with Joestar blood. A curse everyone in this damned bloodline has. So don't blame me for the shitshow." Jotaro fired back in absolute annoyance. Their destination was the place mentioned by the woman when Josuke encountered her, Morioh's Springroll Garden.

"Maybe she can remove it? She does know voodoo and it does involve a lot of curse thingies? Do you think Taki-Taki can get rid of my fear of turtles?" The teenager's question was merely met with an eye roll from Jotaro. He was going to shout back an insult until something caught his eyes.

A lone figure standing amongst a large collection of various flora and vegetation belonging to one of Morioh's famous landmarks. More accurately a lonehuman figure and a soft blue floating oddity by them that was very damn familiar to the male clad in white. "There she is and that's the Stand I saw earlier!"

Taki-Taki was currently plucking a few mushrooms from underneath the bushes that provided their moist dark home and placed them into a small straw basket. Springroll Garden was a place where people could pick their vast garden by purchasing a special ticket and take home an entire basket full of items.

"It's kind of cool that the town has such a garden like this. Especially when it guarantees a free basket of fresh goods for first time visitors too!" The luminescent mask said with a big smile while looking at a bush full of white roses. His green haired friend merely let out a chuckle in agreement before speaking. "Same here pal. Makes it a lot easier to find the things needed to work my magic."

A loud shout had the two look up to see some familiar faces running their way. "Wouldn't you know? Hey Pompadour Prince, fancy seeing you here!" Taki-Taki's nickname immediately had the boy stop in his tracks. Face burning in anger until the words finally hitting turned that anger into pure confusion. The sudden confusion didn't stop the mask from cowering behind the greenette.

"Pompadour Prince?" He questioned while pointing to himself, clearly confused. "You kidding? That's the best pompadour I've ever seen. Also, calling you king is going a bit too far since we've barely known each other and aren't in a relationship." Her words caused the male teen to blush a bit paired with a smitten look and cheesy smile.

Jotaro merely elbowed Josuke's shoulder as the highschooler remembered what they were supposed to be doing. "Taki-Taki Bandicoot, we need you to come with us. We already know about you being a Stand User since your Stand is hiding right behind you but also that charm you gave Ryohei Higashitaka before he was attacked."

The greenette merely had a confused look before it immediately narrowed into glare after the words Ryohei Higashitaka and attacked. Her emotions were clearly being felt through the odd mask as it came out of hiding to glare at them. "I knew something bad was bound to happen upon seeing that dark aura. Tell me what you've done to that kind officer before I rip ya putzes a new one!"

Josuke was thrown off guard by the sudden aggression consuming Taki-Taki's features. It was as if a cloak of pure madness just overshadowed that sunny aura of the greenette. The change didn't deter Jotaro who refused to back down at her threat. As if proving his point, a gold aura started to radiate from his body.

"You need to calm down now. We aren't your enemies but I won't hesitate to knock you out even if you're a girl." The man spoke as something appeared from his body like an apparition. It was a humanoid spirit of sorts that appeared to be an Aztec Warrior or barbarian with similar origins.

Just as big and buff as his summoner but a bit more, soft blue skin that outlined a coral inner pink, black hair that flowed like smoke but sparkle as if it was stardust, soft ocean blue eyes and a body armed with white pauldrons painted in gold spirals, black fingerless gold studded gloves, a white scarf around their neck, black knee high boots and a long white loincloth alongside a dark tasset.

Yet, the strange being seemed to only piss off Taki-Taki even further as she went into her pant's pocket to pull out a small crystal orb. "You're going to threaten me with a giant in his skivvies? Alright jackass, hope your ready to party. For this Ooda-Booga Boogie of mine is going to send ya to the hospital!" And she crushed the crystal orb in her hand.

Both men only had seconds until a large blackish pink fist had punched Jotaro's spirit in the face, the ghost and summoner were sent flying out of the garden before kissing the street concrete. Josuke could only blink before seeing the thing responsible for sending his nephew airborne. "Holy shit!" For what stood snarling in front of Taki-Taki was an absolute monster.

A heavily built 9'6 tall slightly deformed anthropomorphic porcupine with vibrant magenta skin overshadowed by a darkish gray hide. A long singular black horn tipped with hot pink, burning crimson eyes that glared down at the man in white, a magenta muzzle overlapped with an giant overbite of fangs, multiple pink tipped black spikes across their back, their right arm covered in black armor in the form of a riot shield, and crimson hakama trousers with a black paw print on the side.

The beast snarled angrily at Jotaro while a trail of drool came down from their razor sharp maw. It then let out a loud and deep inhuman roar almost if challenging anyone foolish enough to face the beast's wrath. Jotaro had gotten back onto his feet, spitting a bit of blood on the road before wiping the remainder from his mouth. Some of it stained bits of his hat a dark crimson. His spirit staring at the beast with an analysistic glare.

"That's one hell of a sucker punch you got there. Quite an ugly bastard of a friend you have, makes me question which one it is though. Is the beast your actual stand or a byproduct of its power?" The question only seemed to aggravate the greenette and the large creature she called upon.

"That 'ugly bastard' is my friend Quill and what is with this Stand garbage anyway?! What I want to know is did you attack Mr. Ryohei?! My charm doesn't just vanish without fulfilling its purpose even if stolen. Now answer me or I'll beat the truth out of you!" Taki-Taki declared with a snarl that held inhumanely sharp teeth.

Josuke didn't have to be a genius to know if he didn't stop these two right now then things were going to get a lot worse. His nephew's Stand went in for a punch while the greenette's large beast followed suit. Neither attack landing their blow as two diamond covered pink hands caught both fists.

The culprit was a giant pink skinned warrior whose body was covered in Corinthian style diamond armor. He was huge with the same type of muscle like Jotaro's spirit, eyes were a bright baby blue that shone through the darkness of the heart top helmet with concern, wires connecting the back of his neck to his back, heart shaped diamond pauldrons with spikes, armor that over lined the side of his arms, legs and back, and diamond plating rings around the fingers.

Unlike Jotaro's Stand or Taki-Taki's giant beast, this one exuded a gentle and kind aura akin to that of a guardian or protector. Something that made sense from the soft magenta aura radiating from Josuke. "Please stop fighting! I don't want to see my nephew or the person who saved my grandpa hurt each other for something stupid!" The pomp prince's words carried strong as they were sincere.

Something the greenette easily felt upon Quill taking a step back as if backing down from the fight since there was no longer any hostility. Jotaro's Stand disappeared soon after while he muttered a soft 'Yare Yare Daze' under his breath. "Holy shit… I thought things were going to get ugly there. I don't think this garden deserves to be wrecked by a Spike." The mask's quip not being lost on anyone.

Later at the Higashitaka House, cups of tea were placed on the table. Sitting at the table on mats were Josuke, Jotaro and the odd woman known as Taki-Taki Bandicoot. To their left side strangely enough was the greenette's mask and both men's spirits that were conversing with each other or goofing off upon the playing cards between them.

"I still don't believe that Stands are basically the spiritual energy of someone given form. You sure they aren't warrior ancestors? Jotaro's Star Platinum looks like an Aztec barbarian and Josuke, your Crazy Diamond reminds of those old Greek soldiers from his armor." She said while looking at the three oddities playing Go Fish.

A Scrabble holder was being used for the mask or Lani-Loli's cards since he didn't have any hands. He would ask either Star Platinum or Crazy Diamond to put any of his matching cards down and when he needed to 'fish' a card. "Pretty sure. Couldn't I ask the same thing about Lani-Loli over there? Floating masks that can talk aren't normal either." Josuke quipped while pointing to the mask in question.

"Hey! I'm right here you know and I'm way older than all of you combined! And I would have you know that I was human before becoming a Quantum Mask! If I still had hands I would smack all three of you on the head!" The mask fired back in aggravation, some of the cards disappearing in blue wisps of smoke... alongside Josuke's clothes.

"Eeek!" He panicked immediately covering his crotch, Jotaro hiding his embarrassment under his hat while Taki-Taki turned her head away with face hot red in embarrassment. "Great Tikimon! Lani-Loli! Phase his clothes back now!" The mask quickly undoing his magic in sheer embarrassment. Josuke's clothes and the cards popping back into reality with similar blue wispy smoke.

Poor teen let out a sigh of relief knowing he wasn't nude in front of a girl anymore. "Sorry! Sometimes I accidentally poof things out of existence when I'm stressed! And nothing says stress like an escaped convict who kills people with living water!" Jotaro rolled his eyes at the smartass remark. For an all mighty ancient mask, Lani-Loli was an anxious nerd that was a scare away from passing out.

The reason why they were holed up in Josuke's house was that all of them were targets of the Stand User Angelo and his Stand Aqua Necklace.

Angelo was a psychopath with a taste of madness and penchant for violence. The man was arrested repeatedly for brutal acts like murder and even sexual assault before he was landed on Death row. Sadly his execution didn't work properly, allowing the maniac to escape the morgue and reach Morioh. He attacked Ryohei as the cop was the reason Angelo got arrested.

Due to the nature of his Stand, none of them could use water that came from anywhere but a bottle in fear of accidentally swallowing the dangerous entity. "And when do you think it's safe for us to go home? Unlike you guys, my dad will go nuts if I ain't back soon. None of us want to deal with an angry father much less my pops, Crash Bandicoot." Taki-Taki wasn't blind to the nervous look on the pompadour prince's face while he took a sip of his tea.

"Until that Stand User is caught." Jotaro didn't foresee the spray of tea hitting his face from the greenette's spit-take. The grown man was growling in his seat while the young woman tried to settle down her coughs. "You nuts?! That is the stupidest thing I ever heard and this is stemming from the fact my partner does insanely stupid stuff on a daily basis!"

Lani-Loli had flown over to the table so fast that the card pile dispersed from the sudden gust, much to both Stand's displeasure. "You said this guy's Stand is pure water right? What do we do when we run out of water? Wait, here's a better one! What happens if it rained? Shelter becomes a deathtrap in two seconds!" Both men's eyes widened upon the mask's words.

After settling down her coughing fit, Taki-Taki let out a soft whisper. "I think this is what that putz wants. Turn ourselves into sitting ducks and swoops in for the kill until it's too late. And it's going to rain in three days." Silence filled the room upon that very knowledge. The convict was planning to turn their stakeout into a trap.

Josuke could only sigh at the difficult hand. Sure, they now know the guy's plan but if they ignore it then finding Angelo would be even harder. It also meant that the psycho will find out Ryohei is still alive and won't hesitate to attack him again. "Then let's turn the tables back. Turn the hunter into the hunted." All eyes were on Taki-Taki in seconds.

She had a goofy smile on her face with her tongue sticking out in an impish manner. There was also the fact that another crystal orb was in her hands. An item that produced the monstrous Quill but unlike that one, this jewel was a shade of toxic green. Lani-Loli, upon seeing what his friend held, grew a mischievous grin of his own. The odd duo clearly had a plan that almost made Jotaro and Josuke feel an ounce of pity. Almost being the keyword.

Rain had finally fallen upon the house once three days had passed by. Taki-Taki had called her father about being home a few days late since some issues had cropped up. Neither Josuke or Jotaro heard the man's voice but what they gathered upon how the greenette talked, 'Crash' was kindly lenient. Although, both males would have to see him once she got back home.

They spent most of their time keeping themselves from getting bored. Board games, reading, or Taki-Taki crafting some… mysterious concoctions and trinkets with whatever she found in the Higashitaka household. Josuke could honestly admit that he didn't know there was a den of possums hiding in his walls but the witch doctor managed to get some possum fur and nail clippings after one landed on Jotaro.

The greenette at the moment was alone in the bathroom, various ingredients that surrounded a lone bucket. Each item was odd in their own right, rat tails, frog eyes, shiitake mushrooms, yew branches, spoiled milk and a bottle of water. Taki-Taki began pouring the ingredients into the vat starting with the rotten dairy.

She was chanting in an unknown language that eerily sounded like a mix of Arabic and Pig Latin. Bucket began to bubble from her words as the color shifted upon every ingredient dropped into the vat. Taki-Taki's water bottle was currently halfway empty through the process and the cap left abandoned to the side.

Unbeknownst to the woman, rain began to patter outside and something opaque began to build up by the window. It looked like water but it held a more bluish hue and moved too much like a living creature to be normal. Then a pair of sinister pink eyes and a grin full of sharp teeth slithered through.

"You sure this isn't a mango?" Josuke currently sat in the front room alongside Lani-Loli who floated over the teenager's shoulder. Standing on the table was a large orange fruit with a yellow bottom similar to a mango but two leaves that hung from a stem. The teenager currently poking at the fruit that had come from Taki-Taki's home.

"Nope! It's a Wumpa Fruit, a pretty common thing to find on the Wumpa Islands. They're much sweeter than mango and the juice is pretty tasty too. Especially when used for a Wumpa Smoothie, those are really good." Being curious upon the mask's words, the pompadour prince took a nicely sized bite of the fruit.

Tangy sweetness was the first thing that hit the highschooler's taste buds then a rich zesty flavor kicked in a matter of seconds. "Holy shit! This is actually pretty good. Yo Jotaro, you have to try this!" The raven poked his head out of the kitchen upon hearing his name. He let out an annoyed sigh before snatching the fruit out of the teen's hand.

"Did someone put salt in your oatmeal today?" Lani-Loli couldn't help but point out at the man's awfully sour mood added by the harsh bite he took out of the poor fruit or the vicious vice grip. "No. None of you are taking this situation seriously and last I checked didn't get an angry rodent trying to claw up your face." He hissed before taking another aggressive bite.

The sound of footsteps had gotten the two humans and mask turning their heads. Approaching them with an eerily quiet and dead stare was Taki-Taki. Her feet moving sluggishly to the point it was close to that of a sleepwalker… or if heavy weights were tied to the woman's legs.

"Taki?" Lani-Loli's voice thick with concern while he spoke his friend's nickname. Her response was to open her mouth slowly with evil pink eyes glaring back at them in the darkness. "Sorry but your little friend's life is now mine!" A vile, raspy and deep male voice coming out of the greenette's mouth, all to the horror of her friends.

"Aqua Necklace?! You bastard, get out of Taki-Taki now Angelo!" Josuke could only burn brighter in rage from the deranged laugh of the psychopathic water Stand. "And get rid of my only hostage?! Hell no! This bitch is the reason why Ryohei Higashitaka is still alive! She has the power to bring back the dead, a ticket to immortality!" The mask could only roll his eyes as if sensing a monologue.

"I've been watching you this whole time. I saw the giant beast she summoned and that mask phasing things through existence. With her as my slave, I'll be invincible! The world will be my toy box and every single person my toys that I can break for eternity! Once you're all dead, I'll break her until she's a mindless bitch who will follow my every…" The monologue was caught short upon her mouth snapping shut.

Yet, it wasn't the lips that closed the space but an eerie green substance reminiscent to goo. "The hell?!" Aqua Necklace tried to dive down the woman's throat only to run into another gooey green wall. Then he heard laughter. Pink eyes turned to see it was Lani-Loli who was responsible. He was cackling mischievously that tears looked ready to fly from how hard his laughter, much to the confusion of his friends.

"Haha! Hehehehe! You really thought it would be so easy! Taki and I faced way worse than your miserable hide. Oh, and that's not Taki-Taki you putz! Drop the charade Toxic!" Jotaro and Josuke immediately jumped back upon who they thought was Taki-Taki began to melt. All color draining away into a puddle of green slightly clear goo.

Crazy Diamond and Star Platinum were quickly summoned when that sludge started to rise up in the process of a transformation. The slime forming three toed misshapen legs, dripping fat arms with chubby fingers, a large yellow green belly that from its almost clear texture and Aqua Necklace being held inside looked more like a prison, and a roundish hippo like head paired with short pig ears, large deformed inhuman teeth and two alien yellow orbs looking back at it's observers.

The beast or Toxic's appearance could be compared to a 8 ft tall ogre or even an Oni, supernatural beings that tend to punish wicked humans. "Meet the Sludge, a creature made of magic infused ooze with a love for eating utter garbage, like your ugly face! I told Toxic here about your little plan involving my best friend."

Almost on cue, the large oozing beast let a loud snarl before smoke began filling in its tummy. "Aaaaaaah! What the hell is that smell?! It's getting hot in here! Don't tell me this is acid?!" The mask only had a vicious smile on his face that solidified the fact. "People like you make me sick. I've read your entire file and I bet it would even make Uka-Uka himself furious to see your deeds!" Aqua Necklace could only shiver in horror at the mask.

It was like Lani-Loli's nervous self had been overshadowed by pure animalistic rage that his eyes were narrowed slits and teeth were now large fangs held in a snarl. A deity ready to smite a sinner with divine punishment. Even Jotaro and Josuke were taken aback by the sudden shift.

"I may be a scaredy cat but I am still a protector. My name is Lani-Loli, the Quantum Mask of Phase! For ruining the lives of many, threatening my friends and having an unsavory plan for my contractor, I mark you Angelo and his Stand Aqua Necklace, guilty of your sins! And boy do I have a nice punishment for your wicked soul."

The mask then faced the two Joestar blooded men. "Josuke. Jotaro. Taki-Taki left earlier to find this cretin's owner hence my friend Toxic here taking her place. I know where she is and I'm going to need your help with something."

On a street a few blocks from Josuke's house sat a large boulder. This rock had laid on this spot for centuries after a stray storm left it stranded on the land that would become Morioh. Tied to this very stone was an unsavory dark haired man in a milkman uniform bound by chains and gagged with a black cloth. Bruises decorating his body no doubt from the slightly bloody fists of the witch doctor.

Taki-Taki turned her head and smiled upon the sight of her friends coming into view. Aqua Necklace was still trapped within the prison that was Toxic's stomach, who seemed mighty pleased at the abomination's struggle. "Damn, you did a number on the asshole." Josuke said much to the greenette's pleasure.

"I aim to please. Now then, Angelo, since you made a living of ruining people's lives I believe your punishment should be providing good luck." Taki-Taki then pulled from behind the rock was the bucket filled with her concoction. It was a bright bubbling pink and had a smell akin to rotten lavender. She didn't resist dumping the nasty vat all over the convict much to his displeasure.

The man was struggling in disgust before his movements slowed to a crawl as if his whole body was paralyzed except for his mouth and eyes. Taki then yanked the gag from Angelo's lips allowing the man to speak. "You...crazy bitch…! What have you done?" His raspy dry voice almost sounded like a dying cat from how quiet it was.

"A simple potion made to turn you into an eternal good luck charm for all the folks in Morioh! Bet you now wished that your original execution didn't fail. Josuke, this last part is all up to you. Today you will have to make a choice on how this man goes out." Taki-Taki's eyes narrowed as they glowed inhumanly under the dark cloudy sky.

"Ryohei Higashitaka was the one who put this man in jail and stopped his rampage. In vengeance, this scum tried to rob a righteous soul of his life. As Ryohei's grandson, will you fulfill his task and put an end to the man that escaped the grim reaper's blade? If not, then I will perform the deed with Lani-Loli. What do you say?"

The pompadour prince was a bit off guard by the witch doctor's words. Why would she ask him if he wanted to be the one that dealt Angelo's punishment? "Josuke?! Are you seriously going to let her kill me? Sure I tried to kill your grandfather but if you go along with this bitch's plan then you'll be a killer just like me!"

None of them were blind to the man's false pleas knowing it was a trick to let him go. A rat that will only wreak havoc if given a shred of mercy. Angelo's rants were caught off by a fist breaking both his hand and a chunk of the rock. The shocking thing was that the stone merged and encased itself around the appendage much to the psycho's horror.

"Aaah! My hand!! What are you doing?" Josuke merely ignored the man's painful cries. "You really think that we're going to let you go after all you've done. This town used to be a peaceful place before you came and played with people's lives! So for the rest of your days, you're going to pay back every family that you destroyed! Taki-Taki." The greenette smiled knowing what the young man wanted.

"Let's do this Lani-Loli! Armor up!" The cyan mask flew around Taki-Taki with trails of aqua wispy trails that followed from behind. The mask situated himself onto her back while the ghostly ribbons wrapped themselves around her body. Each wispy streak solidified to form a black jumpsuit of sorts which was highlighted by glowing aqua blue chunks of armor reminiscent of Lani-Loli's crown.

Taki-Taki's eyes were now completely glowing blue while velvet sky blue energy followed through the tattoos on her skin and turned her hair into luminous bluish mist. The sudden change to the witch doctor had the restrained Angelo sweating in terror and nearly pissing himself when Josuke's Crazy Diamond materialized.

"Dorarararararara!!!!" The armored spirit let out a battle cry as both him and the armored greenette let loose a barrage of vicious punches. Each strike was as destructive and fast as machine gun rounds, blowing off huge chunks of the stone and merging to the man trapped in the dead center. Neither of them stopping their assault until every piece of stone had been reassembled.

With one last brutal punch, the stone fragments had fully merged Angelo turning the once human male into a deformed boulder. This new shape of the large stone was a malformed face with wide eyes held in different angles, a large flat nose at the bottom similar to a maui and stress lines just like the person it used to be.

Aqua Necklace, who was still trapped in Toxic's belly, quickly melted away in seconds. No doubt the Stand could no longer survive without the life force of its user, thus following its master into hell. Jotaro could only grimace behind the guard of his cap.

[Morioh Landmark 1: Angelo's Rock. No one knows where this mysterious stone appeared from or why. Despite its unnerving appearance, this landmark is a hotspot for couples both old and new.]

'These three are bat shit crazy and have the strength to back it up. Luckily Josuke has a good head on shoulders but…' The raven's eyes drifted to Taki-Taki, her sludge summon and most importantly Lani-Loli still hanging onto her back. She was conversing with Josuke who took the time to look at her changed form and the living sludge Toxic in rapt curiosity.

'Taki-Taki isn't a Stand User but she's just as dangerous as one. Those beasts, Quill and Toxic, whatever they are no doubt has a connection to her origins. And then there's Lani-Loli. I don't exactly know what a Quantum Mask is but I have a feeling he isn't the only one. Just who are you?'

And that is it! This ended being super long since the story revolves around two whole episodes instead of one. It does take place in the beginning of Part 4 and I wanted to stick as close to canon involving them.

Yes, Taki-Taki can call upon Titans, the enemies normally found in the Crash of the Titan series. Unlike a large chunk of people, I actually like the Titan games. They were the first Crash games I played and 100%. I did play Crash The Huge Adventure for the gameboy advance but it got destroyed in the wash sadly before I got the last crystal.

Any version of Crash of the Titans is good but I suggest playing the DS version of Mind Over Mutant considering the console version is more of an annoying chore with tons of backtracking.

My favorite Titans are Spike and Rhinoroller. I especially love the boss version of Spike from the DS Mind Over Mutant but I haven't found the concept art of it yet.

Just like a witch doctor, Taki-Taki does craft all sorts of potions and charms. The Aku-Aku charm acts like a second chance. If someone who has the charm experiences death, the charm will revive them. Deaths done through murder are a bit different.

The charm will hold onto their soul until its safe to revive the holder. Any extensive damage is done and the soul is returned back to the body once repairs are complete. After use, the charm will disintegrate or dull out depending on how much damage was caused.

The Phase Armor given by Lani-Loli is much different for Taki-Taki when she uses it. Reason for it is that she's contracted to him thus the power and magic he provides is much stronger than someone who doesn't have a contract.

Even if Lani-Loli is quite a skittish character,that doesn't mean he won't get serious when needed. Angelo did a lot of horrible stuff that I bet even Uka-Uka wouldn't do. Uka-Uka may be evil but he has standards.

I wanted to try a different writing style for this considering Part 4 is more of a murder mystery. So I wanted to introduce particular areas, new landmarks and important information in a traversing to the next scene.

Until next time folks! Tell the world that your unbreakable!

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