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bmodiwrites · 1 year

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I Guess I Have To Fall In Love With Strangers

Hi friends! I know I'm late as heck but I'm finally coming through with my contribution to Lex's Spicy Six Spring Fanworks Challenge. @thefreakandthehair is amazing & put together the best prompts! The one I claimed for this work is scavenger hunts, so I mixed in a little Nick & Nora with my Steddie. Catch it below or over on AO3 here! I hope you guys enjoy!

Steve blinked awake with a gasp, quickly coming to. His eyes were heavy as he tried to clear them. Once the crusties keeping him blind were gone, Steve took in the room around him. For a moment, he worked his brain double time to figure out what woke him when the reason suddenly smacked him across the face – the house was much too quiet, which had to mean danger was afoot.

Unlike most mornings where all hell was already breaking loose before Steve even had the chance to peacefully wake up, silence lingered in the still clean and put together space, instead. Taken aback by the change, Steve sat up to investigate a little further.

Now fully awake, Steve started to notice more things sticking out like a sore thumb. Eddie, who usually slept in well after their alarm and cuddled Steve like the octopus he’d grown to be, was nowhere to be found. The bed next to Steve was cold, even, frozen from the cool air circulating around the room and Eddie’s missing body heat.

As the clues added up, the idea that he’d been abandoned started to settle in his stomach. Steve, who was trying not to spiral into some sort of mental breakdown, jumped out of bed to truly take everything around him in. It was only then that he noticed the folded up piece of paper sitting innocently atop Eddie’s pillow. The square was chunky and uneven, like his boyfriend allowed their three year old son to do the heavy lifting. Chuckling at the thought, Steve didn’t hesitate to reach out and grab the note obviously waiting for him. He hoped it explained exactly what was happening.

After scooping it up, Steve’s breath caught in his chest. There, in the corner, was an old drawing that Steve never thought he’d see again. The simple circle that gave way to two bunny ears and two x’s for eyes was a blast from the past that made Steve’s entire being light up with excitement. Quickly, thoughts of despair were replaced with anticipation Steve hadn’t felt in so very long.

See, that little drawing was what first brought Eddie and Steve together. All those years ago when things were different, when Steve didn’t have all his shit together, Bad Wabbit, the smallest little metal band to ever exist, knotted up two humans in the best of ways.

Thinking back on that time, Steve affectionately recalled the very first time he ran into Eddie Munson.

Since he was keeping his like of the band a secret, Steve set out on Bad Wabbit’s venue scavenger hunt all by himself. Hawkins’s newest spark of a band didn’t do things the regular way, so there shows were always a mystery. No one knew where they’d play or for how long until the day of when they’d release clues to help fans find their show. The mysteriousness of it all was what first caught Steve’s attention. The skill he finally got to see after two failed scavenger hunts was what kept him coming back for more.

The guy on the radio said the hunt would be easier with a partner or two but Steve figured he was smart enough to navigate a city he’d spent the entirety of his life in, especially after many successes stashed under his belt. The first clue was obscure and off the wall, though not too much for Steve. His love for caffeine and observant nature made the answer obvious. Within minutes of hearing Bad Wabbit’s announcement over the radio, Steve headed to the town’s coffee shop, solved clue in hand.

Upon arriving, Steve was shocked to see someone else already there, looking intently at the cork board Steve assumed the next clue would be hanging on. Stepping up to it, too, Steve tried to play it cool. Throughout all of his adventures thus far, no one else had caught his eye along the way. For some reason, Steve wanted this interaction to go off without a hitch.

He didn’t clear his throat or awkwardly bump into the boy standing there with a questioning gaze. Instead, he reached over his shoulder and pointed at the poorly drawn bunny on the corner of a help wanted sheet tucked behind the day’s newspaper.

“It looks like we need to pay Fred a visit at the dry cleaners,” Steve said, tapping on the sign again, making the bunny even more obvious. The boy looked at him curiously, yet didn’t speak, so Steve continued. “Unless you’re looking for a babysitting gig. Let me give you some friendly advice, though – don’t work for the Wheeler’s. Mike’s a little shit.”

Instead of the laugh Steve thought his joke might get, a loud and resounding quiet stuck fast between them. Despite himself, and the fact that the boy next to him was a complete and total stranger, Steve wanted something more to happen. He craved a feeling he couldn’t name or describe, though it lingered all the same. So much so that disappointment started to settle in as the silence continued. Ducking his head after a while, Steve made a decision to keep moving, to at least do what he set out to. Though, not before shifting a thing or two to mess up the next person looking for the clue.

Steve reached out and tore a couple numbers off the bottoms of the ads attached to the board. He kept the paper for Fred’s place clean as a whistle, though he did turn it slightly so the rabbit was harder to see. Once he was done, Steve took a happy step back. He was seconds from turning to head out when a voice finally broke through all the lingering fog.

“Did you just wreak havoc on the rest of the innocents trying to find out where Bad Wabbit is playing?”

Based on the tone of his stranger’s voice, Steve wasn’t all that sure whether this was a friendly exchange or not. He sucked in a breath then steeled himself for whatever reaction might come from the odd boy standing next to him.

Without blinking an eye or hesitating any longer, Steve grinned widely while his lips formed around an easy answer – “damn right I did.”

The stranger’s face went through an array of emotions before settling on something Steve figured to be close to enjoyment. His smile matched Steve’s and for a second, it was easy to forget that they didn’t even know each other’s names, that they were strangers who meant nothing to each other.

In that instant, Steve understood something about his life had just changed.

After sweet talking Fred for the next clue, Steve’s performance was impressive enough for his stranger to finally introduce himself.

“You’re pretty impressive, whoever you are.”

Steve looked thoughtfully at his companion, then held out a hand between them. “Thanks. I’m Steve. Or Harrington if you’re more of a last name guy.”

A soft yet calloused hand slipped into his and his stranger, that beautiful boy, said a name Steve knew he wanted remember for the rest of his life. “Hi Steve. I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Eddie Munson, as it turned out, was just in town to catch the concert. He told Steve about his life back in the city while they finished up the remaining clues of the scavenger hunt and actually getting a spot in the concert space before Bad Wabbit took the stage. Steve learned Eddie was a year older than him, though a failed class had him repeating his senior year. If all went well, the two of them would share a graduation year. ’85, baby!

At that moment in time, Steve was excited by anything similar between them, anything at all that could tie them together even tighter than they already seemed to be. Something as silly as graduation seemed so huge when Steve wanted to find things that might keep Eddie interested in him.

Neither boy knew things would escalate well passed sharing space at a concert, that when all was said and done, the two of them would build, create, and share an amazing life.

With that thought in mind, Steve dragged himself back from his trip down memory lane. He found himself brushing his finger over that all too familiar rabbit drawing, a fond smile on his face. Without having to open up the note in his hands, Steve knew the day was going to be an interesting one. Though, impatience had him wanting to find out what was in store. He allowed himself one last drag of his finger before pushing on.

After a brief perusal of the paper as he opened it, Steve determined the sheet came from Eddie’s personal journal. It was thick and heavy, familiar in Steve’s hands like the handwriting he recognized almost instantly. Eddie’s chicken scratch hadn’t gotten any better over the years, though, the sentiments he wrote down with it always did.

Gathering up all his strength, Steve drew in a calming breath. When he shifted his eyes and took in the words before him, the game truly began. For one more second, Steve reveled in the room’s easy peace. Then, the silence became too much and an eagerness to find out what happened next won out over silence and easy isolation.

Stevie –

Take your cute little butt back to the place where we first met. Instead of hunting down a clue on that cork board, find the person who holds the key to the other half of your soul. She’s got your next clue.

Boyd & I are waiting.

xx Eddie

Steve was grinning by the time he took in the last word. Without having to think, Steve knew Robin was waiting for him at their favorite coffee shop in town. Unlike other significant others who found his closeness with Robin to be threatening, Eddie leaned into the solidity of their relationship. He understood, right from the get-go, that Robin was a permanent fixture in Steve’s life, that nothing was ever going to change that. Instead of working hard to impress his parents or Steve himself, Eddie busted his ass to win Robin over. After Steve realized that, he was a goner.

Smiling even harder at the memory, Steve let himself think about THE conversation with Robin.

It’d been a day or two after that first concert he and Eddie went to together. Steve felt like he’d been floating on cloud nine since that night. Despite Eddie not kissing him, or even cluing him into how he felt, Steve’s gut feeling told him his stranger would be anything but very, very soon. Something in their interactions (and the several phone calls they’d had since leaving each other) left Steve happier and more content than ever before. Only someone important could do that.

Robin eventually caught onto the goo-goo eyed lovesickness that Steve was carrying around and bluntly asked him about it. “What’s making you so stupid right now, Harrington? You’ve rescanned the same movie three times now.”

“It’s not what, Rob. It’s a who. I think I’m in love,” Steve said as he scanned Return of the Jedi in for the fourth time.

Slightly taken aback, Robin stopped what she was doing and gave Steve her full attention. “You’re what now? Weren’t you in here the other day pouting about your disturbing lack of dates? What changed between Friday night and now?”

Sensing her shift in mood, Steve dropped the movie in his hands back to the counter in an attempt to focus. With his hands free, Steve could easily wrap an arm around Robin’s shoulder. After pulling her close, Steve felt comfortable enough to talk.

“Everything has changed, Rob. I met him at the coffee shop. I was in there hunting down Bad Wabbit – “

With a snort, Robin cut him off before Steve could continue. “You mean your mystery love is a fan of that stupid band, too. You guys must be the perfect match.” She rolled her eyes, though a smile was starting to form across stubborn lips.

“You’re just upset it’s now obvious that you’ve got bad taste. Two always beats one, Rob,” Steve said, easily clapping back with an insult he knew would wound her. Robin scoffed and tried to hit him, but Steve was faster.

“Stop trying to smack me and listen! Don’t you want to hear about the boy of my dreams?”

Aside from another loud sigh, Robin didn’t say anything else for the rest of Steve’s story. He told her about the scavenger hunt and the time they spent together after Bad Wabbit wrapped up for the night. Steve was so reluctant to leave Eddie that they spent another couple of hours talking in the back of Eddie’s van. They probably would’ve stayed in that spot forever but the rising of the sun brought reality back to the forefront, finally separating them. Though, not before Eddie sneakily got Steve’s number.

So caught up in his retelling of what happened, Steve failed to see Robin’s manic grin until she decided to elbow him in the side. “You really are in love, Harrington. I guess this beautiful stranger is someone I’m going to have to get used to.”

Happy to have her approval, Steve squeezed Robin a little tighter to him. He rested his head against hers, happy to be in her presence and happy to be accepted. Robin let the sentimental moment go on for a second longer before she struggled out of Steve’s arms. Sharing emotion was still hard for her, despite everything they’d been through together.

Knowing that, Steve shook off the brief feeling of hurt. It was easy to collect himself and dive back into the happiness when Robin didn’t immediately start to rib him for his corny feelings.

She made it a whole five minutes, even.

“I’m glad you fell in love with a stranger. I’m starting to think it’ll be more fun for the both of us.”

And what a truth that statement had been. Over the next few years, Eddie and Robin became as thick as thieves. Where Steve and Robin juxtaposed each other in that inescapably beautiful way, Eddie shared many similarities with Robin that made it easy for the two of them to fall into stride. She understood Steve so well that Eddie reaped the benefits of that knowledge, sometimes to the point where Steve ended up the odd one out. When all was said and done, Eddie walking into Steve’s life was a blessing to Robin, too. Though Steve and Robin were platonic soulmates and always would be, Eddie brought everyone together and made them a family.

Especially after Boyd was born. Robin gave them the greatest gift by carrying him to term for them. When the idea initially came up, Robin was offended that they didn’t think of her first. Though, it took a quick conversation to clear everything up and set them on a path that none of them ever saw coming. Introducing Boyd into their lives created a tangible link between the three of them. They were a family. The type Steve never had but always wanted.

The warmth of that reminder carried him through the coffee shop door where a smiling Robin was waiting for him. Without missing a beat, she pulled him into her arms for a tight hug. Steve tucked his head into Robin’s neck, letting the all too familiar smell lull him into a sense of comfort he only ever found around Robin Buckley.

Pulling away, Steve stuck out his hand, waving his fingers impatiently. “I know you have my next clue. Give it here, please,” Steve said, trying hard not to sound demanding. The wrinkle in her brow told him his efforts had not paid off, however.

“You’re not even going to try and ply me with small talk? Where are your manners, Stevie?” Robin feigned offense and upset, all while digging into her pocket with an eager hand.

Steve rolled his eyes at her, still holding his hand out impatiently. “I know you’re doing great. You’re sitting in our favorite coffee shop with a croissant, a fancy latte, and the slightest idea of what’s going on. I’m the one hanging on the edge here, pal. Cut me some slack.”

“Yeah, yeah. Here you go, asshole. Go find your stranger.”

Steve didn’t even try to stop his laugh because Robin still called Eddie that after years of being corrected and then corrected again whenever the man himself was in earshot. It was a private joke between her and Steve that wouldn’t ever get old. With a smile and a quick lean in to give Robin a kiss on the cheek, Steve collected his note and hightailed it out of there. If he didn’t and let himself read the next clue with Robin by his side, Steve was bound to take her along for the rest of the ride. That little something in his gut told Steve this one was for him and him alone. Whatever that meant, Steve was very, very ready to find out.

Shaky fingers tore at the folded edge until Steve could flatten out and peruse the next clue.

Stevie –

Remember our first apartment? We broke that damn mailbox by the front door a billion times. Take a trip back, walk through the front door and take in all the memories. I bet you’ll find something new there you least expect.

xx Eddie

The mere thought of their first apartment made Steve’s heart race. Fresh out of high school, the two of them did whatever they could to make things work. While Eddie was working overtime and then some at the local bike shop, Steve juggled two jobs to make ends meet. The place they were able to afford was nothing to brag about but it was somewhere they got to call home. It was a room and a kitchen and a bed Steve and Eddie eagerly shared, night after night. And though they were both more than ecstatic to say goodbye to 301 when the time eventually came, Steve recalled the years there with the fondest of memories.

It was where they had their first major fight, the one that Steve never thought they’d come back from. Eddie got his acceptance letter to college in that tiny little kitchen, halfway through cooking dinner. Steve was certain the spaghetti that exploded because of their distraction was still glued to the ceiling. Looking back at that place now, Steve felt glad to have a reminder of the progression of his life, how things have changed and progressed, yet stayed so much the same, too. While the places got grander and their space multiplied, Steve and Eddie, the love they created together, never changed. It couldn’t – not when they both were so committed to it.

The eventual drive to their old apartment complex took no time at all. Each collection of buildings looked exactly the same as Steve pulled in, despite almost 15 years passing by. Steve let the car practically steer itself until he was parked out front of building 3. Their unit was in the furthest corner, the little Metallica flag Eddie insisted on still flapping in the wind. Though, it was more than unrecognizable, Steve saw it like it was brand new, like he was standing before their apartment the very first time he entered it. So many memories and thoughts and feelings flooded him as he tried the front door. When it easily opened under the pressure, Steve shouldered his way inside.

A soft gasp left his throat when he caught sight of Boyd standing there.

Their three year old son, who’d gotten Robin’s height, was alone in the room, innocently holding another folded up piece of paper. Like usual, those round cheeks pulled into a wide smile the second Boyd saw Steve. Despite having an attitude that better matched Eddie’s temperament, Boyd loved Steve. Their relationship was a lot like the one Steve had with Robin. Things just sort of worked when they were together. Steve understood Boyd the very first moment he held that little boy in his arms. Unlike his own father, Steve did everything he could for the little boy currently toddling his way over to him.

“Hi, sweetie,” Steve said, crouching down onto both knees so that he and Boyd were on the same level. His eyes lit up as Boyd smiled back at him and waved his free hand. His little fingers were covered in marker, as if whatever was on the page he was holding actually came from Boyd’s own hand.

“Are you here by yourself?” Steve asked.

Instead of answering Steve’s question, Boyd walking into Steve’s arms, wrapping his own easily around his daddy’s neck. The squeeze was tight for a moment, then a little voice echoed in the room.

“Papa’s here. Somewhere,” Boyd said, shrugging all the while. For a second, his little eyes stared at Steve, taking him in like he hadn’t seen him in ages. Or, maybe that was just how Steve felt as he looked back. Hazel eyes were hard to blink away from but Steve eventually managed.

“Do you have something to give daddy? I think you have my next clue in your hand there, baby.” Steve so desperately wanted to see what was on that paper. Yet, the last thing Steve wanted to do was tear the note from his son’s hand. After being a dad and learning the sort of patience that went along with parenting, Steve clung to his ability to keep his shit together, though only just barely.

A second later, Boyd let out the cutest little noise, almost like he’d suddenly remembered why he was standing there in the first place. The biggest grin overtook those pink cheeks, practically squishing his eyes up so that only adorable little slits remained. Then, Boyd threw the note at Steve, chuckling all the while.

“That’s for you, daddy.”

Barely resisting the urge to scoop his little boy back into a big hug, Steve picked up the note from its place on the ground. On instinct, his thumb found the bunny on the front, tracing the haphazard drawing lightly. Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling – whatever Eddie was planning, he absolutely had Steve on his toes, completely stumped. They didn’t have an anniversary coming up and Steve hadn’t missed any birthdays. Despite being completely in the know about pretty much everything, Steve had no idea what the next note could possibly hold.

What Steve initially brushed off as typical toddler behavior quickly showed itself on the paper in his hands. The handwriting was so much different than what Steve had been looking at all morning. Each letter that was readable was shaky and formed by someone not completely confident about the shape. Purple marker gave up the note’s author. Boyd, who’d been idly looking around the room, was now perked up, staring straight at Steve.

“Did you write this, Boyd?” Steve asked, showing his son the paper.

A little head nodded and then his son’s smile grew. “Yes, daddy. Want me to tell you what it says?”

Steve didn’t have the composure to do anything but nod, which turned out to be okay because Boyd was going to barrel on ahead regardless of Steve’s answer, anyway.

“It says – Daddy, will you marry Papa?”

As that adorable little voice spoke, a set of footsteps had Steve looking up. With tears in his eyes, Steve watched Eddie walk into the room and stop beside Boyd, a ring box in hand.

“That was great, buddy. Thank you for helping,” Eddie said. He got down onto one knee and softly cupped the boy’s cheek. “Head to the kitchen for me, will you? The drinks we brought in earlier are there.”

Boyd let out a triumphant noise and turned on his heels to run across the room without any further prompting.

Suddenly, Steve and Eddie were alone together.

“I know, I know. It’s been a crazy day,” Eddie started as he reached out to grab Steve’s hand. They were both on their knees, eye to eye. “When I decided I wanted to ask you about forever, I knew I had to do it up special. And for a while, nothing was right. You deserve the world, Steve. While I can’t give you that, I can send you on a wild goose chase with the sweetest of endings.” Eddie laughed then, his eyes crinkling. “In the end, I thought going back to the beginning was my best bet. That day, seeing you in the coffee shop, my whole world changed. You came in there without a thought or care in the world and completely shifted everything about me. I love you, Steve. With everything in me. Always have. Always will.”

Then, because his words hadn’t been enough, Eddie pushed the ring box in Steve’s direction. Tucked into the satin, safe and sound, was Wayne’s old wedding ring – sized up and ready to sit on Steve’s finger. Between the history and the meaning and Boyd being the one to ultimately ask the question, Steve didn’t stand a chance. Tears spilled from his eyes like a leaky sink.

“So, what do you say? Want to get married?”

Steve didn’t have access to his words, so he simply nodded excitedly. He’d eventually scream yes from the rooftops, shout his happiness for days on end. For now, the gesture worked. He knew it did because Eddie looked the happiest he ever had.

Before Eddie could get smart about the cheesiness or say something to ruin the moment, Steve grabbed Eddie’s cheeks and pulled him close. The kiss they shared was hot and intense and so satisfying that they were caught up in it until that little voice sounded in the room again. This time, a bit more impatiently.

“Is it time for sparkly juice, Papa?” Boyd asked from the doorframe, the unopened bottle in his tiny hand.

Both of them beckoned Boyd over, who didn’t hesitate to launch himself into their joint embrace. As their little one snuggled into their chests, Eddie used his free hand to pull Steve’s ring from the box and slide it onto his finger. The fit was perfect, made even more so by the moment Steve found himself in.

While Boyd squirmed and got excited about the fancy drink they were about to consume, Steve and Eddie stared at each other, reveling in their brand new promise of forever.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #bobbie writes #lexsspringfanworkschallenge #i guess i have to fall in love with strangers

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erin-thomas · 1 year

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Workshop- creating repeat prints.

In the workshop today I began to work on creating my repeated prints for the fashion illustrations.

I first had to begin by scanning some of my mark making that I could then edit on photoshop.

These were the first two that I scanned in and began to play around with, I wanted to keep the colours pastel as that was the colour theme we were going with because we felt that it best encapsulated the feminine vibe we were going for. The only thing that I didn't love about this was how dark the pink some of the pink marks were.

I stared by just layering these two together to see how it looked, I had edited my pink pattern to make it more in line with the colour palette.

I like how this looked but I knew that one I repeated it, it would be to simple and therefore there would be a lot blank white space so knew I needed to fill the square a bit more.

I wanted to try and add in some more mark making and what I though would look nice would be if I were to have a flower coming up through the pattern.

I did like how this looked, what I liked was the mix of digital with some pencil drawing and I felt the flower went with our brand as it is very dainty and pretty, however I still felt as though there was a lot of white so I wanted to see if I could add in some more into the background.

I started to create some half drop repeats with my prints to see how they looked,

I liked how it looked in terms of I like the angle that print was on however you can see the join where each repeats has been put in, and you shouldn't be able to see this so knew I needed to go back and look at what I did and how I can get rid of the join. I also still felt that my print needed something just in the corner to hide some of the white.

I used the brush tool on photoshop to see if I could draw a shape that would the work in repeat, I felt as though this looked good interns f there being less white, I would obviously need to go back and draw a nicer shape than a circle and also I think I would need to edit and change the opacity of the circle because at the minute its very much the focus of the print.

The last thing that I did in the workshop was I wanted to see what it would look like if I covered the background of my print with some mark making so that there was less white showing.

This is how looked, I felt as though I did like the background but like my other one you can see the joins which you shouldn't be able to, but also you couldn't really see my flower drawing anymore so if I wanted use the background I would need to draw my flower again maybe in black or grey open so that you can see it more as right now on this I feel as though the background takes away from everything else.

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pureastrologywisdom · 3 years

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❣️ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱❣️

Venus square Jupiter

These people can be very charismatic and friendly people. They are the type of people who can have a very open presence which makes them easy to talk to. They can be very witty and have a good sense of humour. They can draw attention to themselves in social settings because they can come across as having a big personality with lots of charm. It is easy to see why these people can become the centre of attention with people circling around them in social setting to listen to what they have to say.

They are generally optimistic, depending on other placement, which can also be a very attractive quality as they often see the best in situations. It makes them very tenacious. These people like to come across as if they are always in a good mood. I have noticed these peole can use humour and their charm to deflect or hide ther insecurities. And can use their charismatic persona as a mask to hide behind.

These people may also not like to talk about more sad and depressing topics in public settings as they like to keep the convo on the more light side unless they are around friends. I have seen people with this placement look physically uncomfotable when certain topics such as politics come up in more formal settings as they hate navigating peoples different opinions and perspectives. This often has to do with these people wanting to keep as many people happy as possible because this placement can make a person who wants to avoid conflict at all costs. They defo don’t shy away from philisophical and more intense topics of discussion, however they only like to talk about these things with close friends.

These people also have a tendancy to become people pleasers as they will go out of their way to make people happy. They can put too much of their energy into taking care of others and end up being taken advantage of if they aren’t careful. This is because these people have an endless amount of generosity to offer others. It is nice how much love they have to give to others, and how well meaning these people often are. This is the type of person who will walk up to a stranger and compliment them on their outfit or hair!

I will say that their love and care can be a little too much for peoole to handle and can get a little smothering if not careful! It may scare some people away. It is important for these people to learn to set boundries with friends and people in their life so that their willingness to help people doesn’t get taken for granted!

These people often have a natural ability for the creative arts. They can be very theatrical and dramatic when talking and telling stories so it lends itself to creative persuits such as drama or art. They love to see beauty around them and can also love creating something visually beautiful, this once again can push them into the direction of the arts.

I have also noticed these people can have a problem with spending and being a little too self indulgent. They can be very drawn to buying lots of material things. These people love beautiful things so there is a tendancy towards spending money on beautiful objects and investing their money in expensive products such as skin care and beauty products. However these people can also feel guilty after spending their money on these things after doing so.

Because these peopel can put an overemphasis on beauty i have seen that these people can become overly focused on their looks. This is something they need to watch out for as it can create an obsession around the way they look and can lead to them being overly harsh on their apperance. Obviously taking care of yourself isn’t a bad thing by any means! But I have seen people with this placement pick themselves apart because of this hyperdixation on beauty that it can create.

©️ pureastrologywisdom

#astrology #astro notes #venus #jupiter #astro observations #venus aspects #jupiter aspects

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gr-ogu · 3 years

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Requested by @tennant!

For this tutorial you will need:

Some basic gif-making knowledge (see my last tutorial!)

I’ll be using CC 2017 to do this, but as long as you have the timeline option, this will work for you! 🥰

So, in a sort of part two to my other gif tutorial, (https://luke-patterson.tumblr.com/post/636980573506813952/) this is a slightly more advanced part of gif-making. But I promise it’s easy when you know how!

Assuming you followed the last one, you’ll already know how to make your gifs into a smart object, so we’ll start there!

PART ONE: BLENDING

Drag both of your gifs into the same file. For this to work, your gifs have to be the same number of frames, or at least cropped to the same length in the timeline window, otherwise one will loop before the other, and it will mess up the loop of the gif. (For when we get to the multiple gif part, I recommend having between 60-80 frames, so it stays under tumblr’s 10 MB limit.) As this tutorial uses smart layers, they can both be sharpened as well.

(I made this gif 540 px by 268 px, because I’m going to add more to it later. But we’ll cover that further down in part two!)

Honestly, I find it so much easier to put my colouring on top of both/all the gifs, and then clip individual layers down onto a specific gif, if that one needs more of its own colouring. That way, the extra layers don’t interfere with the other gif(s). It’s so much less confusing visually for me than having lots of groups with their own colourings, and it makes moving the gifs around simpler.

Position them side by side, one on top of the other. Obviously, you can play around with the positioning: this may be easier to do once they are blended, especially as some gifs may be smaller and you need to try them in different places. For example, this is a screenshot of a Lyra/Will set I made in the past, with three blended gifs of different sizes:

Add a layer mask to both of your gifs. You might not need to edit both, but I usually do, as I like to balance how much one gif blends into another! Using the brush tool (set to black, when you’ve clicked on the layer mask), we want the brush to be very big, and very soft.

The bigger the brush, the more seamless the blending will be! By painting parts of the top gif away, the other gif will start to appear underneath. It’s not always necessary, but I usually like to set my top gif to ‘screen’ as well. This helps the gifs merge into one another even more, especially if you have one gif which is darker than the other!

As you can see, by setting it to screen, the top gif has already started to look blended. Then, you can start to paint. As the brush is so big, you might end up painting away too much of the gifs, like so:

I usually go back and forth, switching between black to remove parts of the gif, and white to add it back (always painting on the layer masks). Sometimes, you might need to make the brush slightly smaller, just to fill in tiny gaps.

Another thing you can do is to add a solid black colour underneath all your gifs, just to fill in any spaces. (Sometimes, I do this on top of gifs too, to create spaces where I want blended gifs to go, like in my current header!):

Anyway, back to the original gif. My blended gif is now pretty much how I want it to be, except Lyra is quite far to the left, and Will is taking up a lot of the screen:

So I’m going to see how they look at the start of the gif, to determine how far right I need to move them both to get them mostly in the middle:

And that’s it! Now you can export them [file > export > save for web (legacy)] and you’ll have to change the timing back to 0.05, or use the action I introduced to do this in my last tutorial.

PART TWO: MULTIPLE GIFS

To put more gifs underneath this one I’ve made, I expanded my canvas. Go to image > canvas size. Make sure you click the little ball to the top in the anchor section, so the canvas expands underneath your gif. If you leave it in the centre, it will simply expand from the middle, or the left, right, etc.

Next, we need to remove the black line at the bottom of the gif.

You want to select the space for cropping using the rectangular marquee tool, so in this case, 540 px by 268 px. The tumblr spacing is 4px between each gif in a set, so however many gifs you want, you have to account for 4px less pixels inside your one gif, to give the illusion there are multiple (unless you want them to touch).

For example, (there’s a little maths here: forgive me!) two gifs of equal size, placed side by side, must be 268px in width or length, because (268 x 2) + 4 = 540. (There is one 4px gap in between). For four gifs, it would be (132 x 4) + 12 = 540. (For the three, 4px gaps). For three gifs of equal size, it’s a bit different. These must be 177px, 178px, and 177px, to ensure there is 8px of space left over (two gaps).

Then, make sure the colour white is the primary colour selected on the paint pad (this is vital) and (in this case), the layer mask from before when we blended, is selected. Press ctrl (command on mac), shift, and i to invert your highlighted area (or select > inverse) and then simply delete the excess line, (either using the delete button on windows, or fn + delete on mac, I think!) Then, do this again for the other gif.

And voilà! It’s gone. You can also paint it out (using the black colour as the primary colour to erase), but I would still recommend highlighting the outline of the area you want to erase, using the marquee tool, so that you can paint it out in a straight line, and don’t paint into your gif and erase parts of that by accident.

Now to add in the other gifs! To do this, I use guides, but you can also use lines at a size of 4px, to map out the spaces in between gifs. If you go with lines, just make sure you delete the shapes after. With guides, they are not actually ‘in’ your gif, so you don’t have to remove them before you save. However, guides only work for straight lines, so gifs with other shapes will need to be made using lines, (but I will touch on that at the end!)

I actually have a few psds saved with guides already on, so that I don’t have to draw them out every time. If I was making a set with three gifs in a row, this would be different, but I usually stick to two or four (or three with one big square/rectangle, and two little squares), so this is my most used psd. The guides are set at: 132 px & 136 px, 268 px & 272 px, and 404 px & 408 px, both horizontally and vertically!

I have a red colour underneath just because I find it easier to see the lines between gifs this way - if you do the same, just remember to turn it off before you save your gif, otherwise it will have the colour red instead of mimicking the transparency between gifs.

Now, make a second gif! I decided to have a square in the middle as you can see in the title, and then two rectangles either side.

Then you want to resize it, in this case to 268 px by 268 px, and drag it across into your main file, or go to layer > duplicate layer, and move it that way. Don’t worry, when you move it, it will show the whole gif as if you haven’t cropped it. The reason I crop and resize it beforehand, is so that I can ensure it will be the correct size when I remove the excess parts of the gifs I don’t want, (rather than making it 268px including the black line for example, which would be wrong.)

Then, as before, position the gif where you want it to go, and highlight the area you want to be in the gif. Whilst this is selected, (again ensure white is the primary colour on your paint pad), click the layer mask:

Then the excess around the gif should be gone! (Making a gif of a gif tutorial... meta, lmao.) This way, if you decide you want to change the shape of the gif, or move it slightly, you can just paint parts in and out, or delete the layer mask, move the gif, and reapply it!

You can then sharpen and adjust your colouring to the gif as needed! Next, go ahead and repeat this process for your other gifs. Selecting the area, adding a mask, and sharpening. By the end, you should have something that looks like this:

PART THREE: OTHER SHAPES

If you want to use other shapes (which I haven’t tried myself until now, but I can talk you through some thoughts!) You can use the line tool. So, for example you could make a layer with the lines at 4px, merge it, and then at the end delete it from your gif to leave the gaps transparent:

To make a gif any shape you want, choose a shape (either use the shape tool, or get a png of it), and using a clipping mask. Make sure your gif is above the shape layer, then right-click the gif layer, and select create clipping mask to clip it down:

OR you could use a circle, and then delete the circle to make it look transparent:

The best way to select items which are not rectangular, (so you can’t use the marquee tool), is to use the pen tool. Click around your gif so that it’s got a border of what you want selected. Once you have outlined your gif, right-click and choose make selection:

Then set the feather radius to 0, and then the area you want should be highlighted in the same way as with the marquee tool above, so you can add a layer mask, etc. However, as the pen tool is not always that accurate, there is a little white gap here where it’s not a perfect circle.

A way to overcome this could be to make all the gifs you want, and then simply add one on top with a white 4px border, so it gives the illusion of being transparent! (As I have done above, but save it as white rather than red!)

If I find a better way to do this in the future, I will update this tutorial. I hope this is helpful, and thank you for reading 🥰💖

#gif tutorial #tutorial*#completeresources #yeahps #chaoticresources #allresources #mikesmom #usertom #usersmile #heavensentnetwork #if there's any mistakes pls let me know #i am so tired rn fjghfjhgfjgh

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justasimptm · 3 years

Text

The Bride C8

“Y/N!” My mother hollars, the door behind me barely shut before her voice rings out through the castle, announcing her presence just before I see her head crest the railing. “Come to the study,” She beckons, turning and vanishing from sight. A heavy weight creeps into my stomach, anxiety pitching up monumentally. Knowing better than to hesitate, I’m quick to hurry up the stairs, being careful not to catch my feet on the hem of my dress as I go. When I get to the office, she’s standing by the window, gazing out at the gardens where the maids take their breaks. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge me, even as I close the heavy oak door. I go to speak, but she ends up breaking the silence. “What did Mother Miranda want with you?”

Her voice is cool, strong, hiding any real traces of emotions, as if she knows and is expecting me to lie, but still she keeps her eyes fixed on something outside. I fiddle anxiously with the ties on my shawl as I reply, trying desperately to keep my voice stable and light.

“She requested me to accompany Lord Heisenberg in escorting the newest group of townsfolk to the church. She wanted to know if I had a connection with any of them.” I explain, pausing to see what she will say, or do in reaction to that information. She hums deeply as if she’s thinking, motioning me over to her side with a sharp wave of her hand. As soon as I fall in line next to her, her head snaps towards mine, so suddenly I jump. She stares so firmly that I’m essentially pinned by the force of it.

“And?” She jabs, leaving me floundering for what more I could tell her. That’s all she wanted, right? I can’t think of anything else she said. I must gape a moment longer than she would like because she whirls back to the window, slamming a hand on the glass. “If that was truly everything, why is that disgusting man still at my home?” She hisses, nails scraping on the window sharply making me wince. I peek around her form, surprised to see him pacing along the gates, very obviously looking up at the house, scanning it. “Go out there, this instant and tell him I want him gone. Keep in mind, daughter, I will be watching you. Both of you.”

The ice in her voice sets itself deep in my gut. I’ve heard her speak like that, to my father before he died, to the butler she fired. These interactions have put me on the other side of the firing range, and every gun is fixed directly at me. One wrong move, and boom. She will explode. I square my shoulders, nodding at her wordlessly and sweeping back out the room, forcing the tremors starting in my hands to go still as I make my way to the door leading outside. I all but storm up to the gate, tugging one of my knives out from the slip of my dress. I grip the handle tight, willing it to give me strength to pass her test as I come to a halt in front of the harbinger of my looming doom. One of his hands reaches up to grip at the bars separating us, I hear them starting to screech in protest as he begins warping them so I quickly slash upwards, letting the tip of my blade slip along his knuckles. Not hard enough to cause damage but enough to make him let go with a surprised yelp.

“You need to leave, right now. My mother is not happy you are here and you are putting me in a bad position.” I hiss, pointing my knife in his direction, drenching my words in urgency, hoping he’ll understand and finally listen. His lips dip down into a frown as he stares up at the many windows adorning my home, as if he’s trying to pinpoint exactly which one she’s watching from.

“Listen, Mother Miranda told me to make sure you were safe-” He starts but I cut him off loudly, knowing my mother will be able to hear.

“I do not need your pitiful protection, Lord Heisenberg. Trust me when I say this, the day I need protection from a man is the day I would sooner die.” I pray the air was still enough to carry my ringing voice. The look on his face stings me, part of me regretting it. I point my knife at him once more, lowering my voice ever so slightly. “Please. I need you to go.” I allow hints of my fear to trickle into my tone, enough to hint at what’s happening and enough to hopefully highlight the urgency of his departure, before slipping the knife back into its sheath and stepping back from the gate. “You’re only welcome here when directly invited. Until then, make yourself scarce. Or there will be consequences.”

He huffs slightly, nodding at me and tipping his hat down to cover his eyes. He doesn’t say anything back, choosing instead to step away from the gate and pace backwards a few feet. A flame of relief roars through me as he turns and starts back down the hill, whistling some stupid tune as he goes, seemingly unaffected by my threats. Without pausing I, myself, turn around and quickly rush back inside. I make it a few paces through the doorway when I hear my sisters giggling from down the hall. Out of the corner of my eye I can see them staring at me, waiting to see if I’ll fully look at them. When they realize I don’t plan to, Bela calls out to me. I huff impatiently when I stop, tapping the toe of my shoe as I wait for them to approach me.

“Looks like you have an admirer,” Cassandra laughs, twirling a lock of her brown hair through her fingers.

“It’s pathetic really,” Bela continues, crossing her arms and sizing me up, as if she’s trying to figure out why he’s paying me any attention. Daniela starts circling me, flipping up the back of my shawl and tugs slightly on my long hair. I stifle the yelp that started up my throat at the sudden sharp pricks.

“Who helped you finish getting ready this morning, big sister?” She drawls, pausing in front of me with a dangerous smirk on her face. “If I remember correctly, your corset hadn’t been fully fastened and you were struggling to get that pretty little pin to stay in place. I wonder who helped you fix it.” I bite the inside of my cheeks, praying that she’ll stop her insinuations before our mother hears. “You were gone an awfully long time, you know. Mother was worried. I had to assure her you were alright. Fairly the walk shouldn’t have taken that much time, even with the pack of humans, but I’m sure you had other things on your mind.”

Every fiber of my being wants to scream, wants to pull her tongue out of her fucking throat, but I don’t. I can’t. I have to stand there, I have to let her talk, let them talk as much as they want, because although I hate to admit it, they have the power in this situation. If even a whisper of this was heard by my mother she would be furious. Especially at the way Daniela insinuates it. She has always had a talent for fictionalizing things, for making leaps that, to most, would seem foolish. But to us? To my mother, who hates the idea of us even being seen by men? Stories are good fuel for that fire, and Daniela is holding the match.

Clearly seeing the defeat weighing on my shoulders they draw back, laughing some more before swarming and going off to some unknown corner of the castle, likely to torment another servant. At this point I want nothing more than to slump down against the wall, but instead I tighten my shoulders, before gliding up the staircase back down the hall. I pause in front of the study, looking in and nodding at my mother before continuing down towards my bedroom. Once inside I quickly throw the lock over the door and standing stock still.

For a few moments I hardly breathe, half expecting one of them to barge down the hall and burst my door open. I barely get a glimpse of myself in the mirror of my vanity but it sends a harsh shock through my system sending my gears flying. Within moment’s I’m tearing the pin from my hair, ripping the corset off my body and nearly shredding my dress in the process. My daggers clatter to the floor noisily but even that doesn’t slow my motions. I storm over to my wardrobe, slamming the door open with such force the entire thing wobbles dangerously. I snatch all my dresses down from the hangers, dropping them into a pile on the floor. I drop down next to the pile, leaning over and yanking one of the daggers from its sheath and sitting back on my heels. With no plan whatsoever I tug one of the corsets into my lap, turning it inside out and use the tip of the knife to tear at the seam, ripping it open section by section and forcing the metal out from its bindings.

I have no idea how long I do this for, but by the time I finish I have a pile of scraps and a heap of fabric, my fingertips are red and faintly bloody, small pricks from when the knife caught my skin when I got careless. My breathing is heavy and my face is hot as I collapse backwards, leaning my weight against the wall. A small part of my brain worries mother will be upset when she sees what I did to my dresses, but another part rejoices at the rebellion. In the end it’s a relatively easy fix, we have many girls in the castle who are proficient in sewing and could easily repair any damages I caused. Odds are I’ll call one of them up before she sees, ask them to be discreet and find some other boning, probably make up a story about the metal causing too much discomfort.

Finally I find myself being able to breathe easier, less constricted, and I allow my eyes to close for a few moments, enjoying the stillness of my room, the calm chaos I caused surrounding me but drowning me in peace.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy

#heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #lady dimitrescu #re8 #resident evil village

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shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

The One | JJK

∎ Summary: You and Jungkook decide to bring a dog into your home, but first you have to find the perfect one. ∎ Pairing: Jungkook x Gender Neutral!Reader ∎ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship, idolverse ∎ Rating: G ∎ Warnings: None ∎ Word Count: 1.9k ∎ A/N: For btsholidaybingo | Bingo Square: Jeon Jungkook

"Remember, we're only going for one dog."

"But what if a kitten falls in love with me?"

"No."

"Okay, but what if there’s like, two dogs that are bonded? We can’t just separate them, you know."

"Then we won’t get either."

"But what if-”

"I said no, Koo. No to any other possible scenarios you can think of. Do you want to do this or not?" The two of you have a staredown over the top of the car before Jungkook lets out a long, dramatic sigh, and you climb into the car.

You’ve recently taken the next step in your three-year relationship by moving in together. Jimin was unsurprisingly distraught and clung to Jungkook’s legs as he and the rest of the guys moved his things from the dorm. Of course, you had only moved a good ten minutes away from them in the first place.

Now that you’re accustomed to living and existing every night and day around each other, you agreed your home is missing the presence of a fluffy animal. Well, Jungkook has decided rather, and you gave in to his pouting and begging. Since he’s no longer sharing space with Yeontan, he wants a dog of his own around; thus, the decision to bring home a dog was made.

Neither of you has any idea what type of dog you want, but you agree that you’ll go and see which one stands out. According to Jungkook, you don’t pick a dog; a dog picks you. As someone who’s never had any pet other than hamsters, you’re inclined to believe him. As nervous as you are to be a first-time dog owner, the idea of being a cute, domestic couple raising a dog together is exciting.

The ride to the local shelter is only about ten minutes, and Jungkook is throwing his door open and bounding out of the car as soon as he parks. You follow your exuberant boyfriend inside at a much more leisurely pace. It doesn’t surprise you when you walk in and see the first thing he’s doing is leaning towards a cage full of kittens, cooing at them and letting them nip at his fingertips.

"Jungkook..." you say in a warning tone. He turns towards you, looking guilty.

"I just wanted to look!" He pouts. Once you’re at his side and you’ve greeted a few of the kittens yourself, you follow a volunteer to the wing of the shelter where the dogs are.

Jungkook is immediately drawn to a cage of golden retrievers. He leans over, sticking his fingers through the bars, which makes all of the tiny dogs run over to smell and lick him. You smile at him as giggles come out of his mouth. He soon moves on to a large, older looking pitbull and is whispering greetings to it as it pants excitedly. You leave him there to wander around, eyeing all of the cages, and can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of the dogs around you, attempting to catch your gaze and silently begging you to take them home.

Your eyes continue to scan the signs hanging from the front of each cage, noting all of the breeds and their names.

A shih tzu, a maltese, a poodle, and a-

“Oh, hello, babies!” A cage with five corgi puppies yipping for your attention catches your attention the most.

As you make your way to the cage, the group of dogs notice and clamor over each other, their small noses raised in the air to try and catch a whiff of you. You smile at them and stick your hand near, letting them sniff you. They all have identical brown eyes and the classic corgi golden brown and white fur, which, while they’re cute, none stand out to you.

Pulling your hand back, you dig a bottle of hand sanitizer from your bag, ready to ask Jungkook if he’s made a decision when something in the corner of the corgi cage catches your attention.

Its eyes are what draw you in. Those gorgeous brown eyes are much lighter and wider than the rest of the liter. You hadn't noticed this one earlier, but looking at it now, you see it’s the only one with all-white fur. It’s the quietest puppy, opting to hang towards the back but still flashing you that wide dog smile. It’s excited, with the way it’s small, round body seems to be vibrating. Something in your gut told you this was the one.

"Koo! Jungkook, I found our dog!" Jungkook leaves the pug he’s talking to so he can come over and join you. He looks at the corgis, his eyes immediately finding the pup in question in no time. After inspecting the dog for a few seconds, he nods.

"That’s definitely the one. Stay here, and I'll go tell someone we've made our choice." Jungkook leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before he leaves. You get close to the cage again, angling your fingers towards the quiet pup, and immediately it wobbles over, squeezing past the others to get to you. Your heart wells as you watch it give you a couple of licks, then lets out a tiny yip.

Jungkook comes back just as quickly as he had left with an older man in a shelter volunteer shirt. He points out the puppy you want, and the man unlocks the cage to reach around the hyper puppies for yours. He puts the puppy in your waiting hands, and you and Jungkook follow him out to the main part of the shelter. As you go, the man explains that your pup is a boy and that he and his siblings were found in a box in a park by someone who brought them in.

Jungkook fills a basket with toys, food, and treats from the on-site pet shop while the fluff ball in your arms watches him go. He stays quiet as Jungkook tries a few collars on him before settling for a bright blue one and claiming it as perfect.

Once everything is paid for and you’re on your way back home, he stands up in your lap and stretches his body out, examining Jungkook's car as he does.

"Please don't pee on the seats, little guy," Jungkook begs him playfully. As if he understands, the dog gives one small bark in response and moves to balance on your thigh so he can look out the window. "We need a name for him, you know."

"I know. Any ideas?"

"Jungkook Junior?"

"We are not calling our dog Jungkook Junior."

"Y/n Junior?" He receives a pointed look in reaction to that suggestion. "Well, what do you think we should name him then?" You look down at the dog in your lap, and he looks back, almost in curiosity.

"Hmm...how do you think Jimin would feel if we named him Mochi?" Upon hearing it, the puppy barks. "Is that a yes? You like the name?" He barks again.

Jungkook lets out a laugh and turns to look at the puppy once the car is parked and you’re back home. "So this is our little Mochi, huh? I think it fits." He reaches over and scratches under the pup's chin, his tongue lolling out and his eyes closing. You and Jungkook share a look similar to one proud parents would share about their successful children.

After all the supplies are carried upstairs to your apartment, you and Jungkook put all of the things away, taking turns keeping a watchful eye on him as Mochi explores and sniffs anything in the apartment he can get to. Jungkook wastes no time in calling everyone over to meet him.

"His name is Mochi?!” is the first thing out of Jimin’s mouth when you introduce him. He looks as if he’s so touched he could burst into tears. As soon as the boys walk in, Mochi is smelling and circling them, vying for attention from them all.

"For a new dog, he’s not very shy," Yoongi says when he sits down on the couch, and Mochi immediately dashes over, begging to be put into his lap.

A coo rings out through the room from everyone as the eight of you watch as he sprawls out on Yoongi’s lap, enjoying the belly rubs he offers him.

The boys spend the rest of the evening playing with the puppy. They talk to him as if he can understand, try and fail to teach him to sit, and unsurprisingly, Hoseok ends up rolling around on the floor with him.

He has his first almost accident during dinner, whining and pacing while everyone is eating, catching the room’s attention.

“He has to pee!” Taehyung warns. Jungkook shoots up from the couch, nearly knocking his pizza over in the process, and quickly opens the patio door, carrying Mochi out to the patch of turf he’d laid out earlier. Quickly after, he trots back inside and plops onto his doggy bed by the couch, eliciting various “awws” from all of you.

After dinner, everyone helps you and Jungkook clean up and play with Mochi a bit more before calling it a night. Before leaving, Hoseok promises he'll be back in the morning to walk his "new best friend." This causes Seokjin to scoff and argue that Mochi was his new best friend and that he'll be back in the morning. Jimin puts his two cents in about how Mochi is obviously his best friend since he’s named after him. Namjoon tries to use the fact that he secretly fed Mochi under the table as a way of winning the debate that they’re best friends, but it only earns him a whack on the arm from you.

Jungkook manages to usher his bickering friends out, telling them whoever gets to your apartment first in the morning could walk the dog. Of course, this will lead to chaos in the morning, but you and Jungkook will worry about it then.

As the two of you make your way down the long hall to your bedroom, you realize Mochi is still sitting at the end of the hallway, looking as if he’s contemplating whether or not to follow along.

Jungkook turns around and tilts his head. "Well, come on then!" The puppy lets out a chipper bark and bounds down the hallway as quick as his small legs allow him. He circles your feet excitedly, then busies himself with observing the new room as you get ready for bed.

When you’re finally snuggled up to Jungkook with the lights off you, take a look at the puppy as he stretches in the middle of the room.

"Can we bring him in the bed? Please?”

"Hmm...I don't know..." Jungkook taps his chin, pretending to think before calling the dog's name. He didn’t expect him to respond, having only had a name for a day, but to his surprise, Mochi barks and runs over to the bed. You watch him attempt to climb and jump onto the king-sized bed until Jungkook leans down and scoops him up. Mochi immediately turns himself in a circle and plops down on the bed between you two. "He's an extremely smart dog," Jungkook murmurs as he lets a yawn slip.

"He is. You know, I think you were right about letting the dog choose us."

"I know. Aren't I always right?" You reach over and swat his shoulder.

"Oh, hush, and go to sleep." He lets out a laugh before leaning over to kiss you.

"Love you, babe."

"Love you, Koo. Love you, Mochi." Right on cue, the dog lets out a loud yawn and snuggles closer to you. You smile and run your fingers through his soft fur before dozing off with your boys.

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emsartwork · 4 years

Note

i forgot to add: how do design ????!?!??????

So I’m not expert but this is how I think of character design! (also sry if you were asking about clothing/outfit design thats a little different)

under the cut because this is long im so sorry

So in my opinion there are three really important aspects for character design!

AESTHETIC: obviously everybody’s aesthetic is different, but this is more about what vibe the character has, what makes them THEM design wise.

INTENTION: who is the character supposed to be? this can range from their personality, their back story, their occupation, or their role in the story, but the design need to fit that intention.

COHESION: does the design go well together? or do certain aspects clash too much? obviously you can have disjointed parts of a character design, and if those serve a purpose then thats fine, but if its so disjointed its distracting from the character as a whole you might need to tweak things.

AESTHETIC: the contrasting part of the design (white flowers in dark hair, dark trim on dress, and dark shoes) provide interest to the eye. The mixing of round and sharp shapes also keeps the design from feeling “boring” even though its relatively simple.

INTENTION: so what role would this little doodle character have? according to her design elements, shes cute and friendly with her round shapes (bouncy balls, babies, etc), but could have a sharp/fast/active or even dangerous edge to her with the triangles (arrows, knives etc). of course the design doesn’t limit her possible roles. She could be a bubbly younger sister who teases the older protagonist, or maybe she’s the villain hiding in plain sight. the shape this character design doesn’t really have is squares(think bricks and rocks), which communicates that she might not be really strong, steady, or reliable.

COHESION: repeating the curves across her whole design builds cohesion, it communicates that “yes, these are all part of the same character”, it also allows the eye to “rest” on a familiar shape or line.

NOW LETS LOOK AT SOME DESIGNS

(Boku no Hero Academia) so both of these characters are super heroes, but have vastly different design elements. so lets analyze them.

OCHAKO(the pink one) is all rounds, with a few pointed shapes in hair mostly, but a little on her costume as well. Her personality is cute, bubbly, and friendly which perfectly suits her soft and bouncy design. Howevre she also has a very slight edge to her, which is seen her determination and drive to improve herself over the course of the anime.

KIRISHIMA(the red one) at first glance, seems to be super pointy!! shapes that are usually seen on villains or really dangerous characters, but while he IS sharp(literally sometimes) and sometimes aggressive, he is also made of squares, which perfectly suits his loyal “i gotchu bro” attitude towards most of the other characters in the anime.

ISSUE AREAS: so the only problems i have with Ochako and Kirishima’s designs is that their costumes each have one area that clashes a little too much for my taste. With Ochako, the belt over the color blocking stripes down her crotch are......questionable taste wise. I think the design would be better if the pink chest ended above the belt in a shallow v. not only would this mirror the triangle aspects of her hair, it would fit the belt outline, and continue the trend her costume has of being “grounded” or “heavy”. Kirishima has those.... gears??? around his shoulders??? and while the gear teeth are technically squares, the gear shape itself is a circle, which is a shape that isn’t present anywhere else in his design. I think changing the gears to something similar to his boots or his mask/headgear would create a more cohesive design(also the gears just look hard to move in)

These two characters are presented as individuals so their costumes don’t have to match at all even though they are still seen as “connected” because of the art style for the face, hair, and body.

In a group giving the outfits cohesive motifs is an easy way to present a strong team image! In Yuki Yuna is a Hero, the girls all have colored lines(usually princess seam placement), armor or fabric hip accents, covered arms, and similar flower shapes in their hair. The Aesthetic of each girl is strong in a monochrome signature color, but not over whelming as the black+white connects them even in color so they aren’t out of place.

Speaking of color! if your characters are all similar looking (like same body for all of them) you can communicate their personality and aesthetic just with color! (only gonna talk about a few of the ponies) Pinkie Pie (the really pink one) is energetic and playful, so her color scheme is a variation of the primary colors(happy, child like), and have one of the more saturated colors(high energy, intense) of these characters in a large quantity. Apple Jack (the orange one) is a down to earth farm girl, and her color palette is accordingly, mostly earth tones, its also warm analogous colors, which makes her appear un-complicated and warm personality wise. the pop of red is a nice touch to add interest, but notice that its uses sparingly in her cutie mark and tail accessory. Rarity on the other hand is elegant and fussy, her high contrast scheme of white and dark blue/purples gives her more visual interest and is something that makes her appear more “complex” in addition to the gradient thats included in her hair. the colors are also all cool colors, bringing to mind cool glass or water which both have connotations of grace and beauty.

however all the characters here are unified by their colors being on the pastel side, which is also important for a cohesive cast.

another, short, note on color; making the color/line/shading of your figure different from the background can help them stand out, this is used ESPECIALLY in children’s media, but can be applied to any illustration or animation as needed.

Color can also help your characters “read” quickly on screen, the powerpuff girls are a prime example, of having a distinct color blocking and silhouette. even the color blobs at the top and my crappy hand silhouettes STILL read as the characters despite being broken down into abstract elements. I also really enjoy the thick outline in the powerpuff girls, it really makes the characters pop to the foreground even though they have pretty simple designs and are often in a colorful setting.

Also, for a lot of animation, silhouette is INCREDIBLY important for your characters, some designers sketch silhouettes and then design the particulars its so important to nail the shape. These examples from Coraline are some of my favorites (though Laika wins in my heart every time no matter what lmao) because the simple shapes are SO CLEAR and indicative of the character, you literally don’t need to have watched the movie to know these are each different characters with different personalities and roles.

silhouette can also help tell the story. In Kubo and the two strings (another Laika film) the above three characters are sisters. One has chosen to leave her home in the heavens to live on earth, and the other two stay in their roles as “heavenly” warriors. This is even shown through their designs, the two sisters are weighted on top and their cloaks don’t even touch the ground, while the first woman has trailing, heavy sleeves, hair, and robes all grounding her and emphasizing her connection with the earth.

another example of shape/silhouette reflecting the story, In The Croods, the family of cavemen are for the most part very top heavy, with large torsos and arms, usually in a more hunched over position, while the newcomer, Guy, is bottom heavy with thin arms and stands more upright. In the plot, the family represents the old ways, the strength and rules that have helped them survive, they look like very stereotypical “cavemen”, while Guy resembles the modern man, and appropriately is associated with new ideas and forward thinking.

MORE SHAPES, in DC super hero girls each girl has a distinct personality emulated by her shape language. Zatana is dramatic curves and edges, Super girl is hard, straight edges against curves, giving her a solid muscular shape. Wonder Woman, though also strong, is taller and leaner, lending to a confident leader type. Green Lantern is slim, her lines all flow into each other giving her a go with the flow look. Bumble Bee is, of course, tiny, but her boots and gauntlets add weight and strength to her otherwise small frame. Batgirl is lanky and has a lot of pointed style lines, reminding the viewer of a skinny cat (ironic what with cat woman i know) or weasel which mirrors her preferred “sneaky” crime fighting style. (also yes this was just an excuse for me to gush abt how much i love the dcshg designs shut up)

so in my opinion, Cartoon Saloon’s The Secret of Kells is PERFECT in aesthetic, intention, and cohesion. Kells focuses very strongly on creating silhouette WITHIN the larger figure shape via color and line, most of the characters pictured here have no neck, the one who does, Brendan, is the main character and the use of negative space that cuts into his shape is used to draw attention to him. Kells is also very strongly inspired by Medieval Illuminated manuscripts (namely, the book of kells lmao). The characters still manage to stand out against outrageously detailed backgrounds via their simple shapes and strong color blocking.

Aisling, a secondary but very important character, is not human, and has a totally different shape language from the rest of the characters. She is thin and pointy, while most of the others are round or square. Aisling also has the most negative space making up her silhouette, compare the triangles made by her arms and legs in the above picture to the figures in the first image where everybody’s body is self contained with no negative space. She is also very different color wise, very pale and cool colored, as opposed to the warm saturated colors of the human characters. (yes this was another excuse to gush abt one of my fave pieces of media deal with it)

hopefully that wasn’t too rambley and actually helps? if yall have more specific design questions lemma know lol

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miracul0us-multishipper · 4 years

Text

“You”

A grin spread over Felix' face as he let the charade drop.

“Me.”

The black haired girl he now knew was Marinette rolled her eyes and turned back to her sketch book, a clear dismissal.

“You’re blocking the light. Go bother someone else.”

He sighed and brushed his hair back, decreasing the similarities to his cousin to the necessary minimum.

“Why would I? Everybody else is so boring.”

No one in this entire city had even realized he was back; not their classmates, not the teachers, not even the brunette fashion disaster that obviously had some experience with deception. Of course his little charade would have to end once Adrien had recovered from the cold that kept him at home, but until then Felix would have his fun. Yesterday he'd spend the entire day in the Bourgeois Spa, fooling the entire staff, the Mayor and his clingy brat. Despite the latter being Adriens “best friend”, not even she had realized who she was really inviting. Getting rid of her had been a little harder, but in the end he'd spent a wonderfully relaxing day in a steam bath and his skin was softer than ever. Courtesy of the ridiculously expensive mud bath he hadn’t had to pay a single penny for.

“Looks like you'd fit right in then.”, Marinette commented and drew an especially vigorous line in her book.

“Ouch. You wound me, darling!”

She shrugged and ignored him. Ignored him! That wouldn’t do.

With a last tug at his no longer messy strands he sat down next to her, leaning into her space as far as he could risk without getting slapped. His last few attempts had thought him that lesson.

“Oh, come on, Marinette, you must to tell me!”, he nagged her, happy when her face turned from concentration to annoyance. “What gave me away? Was it the wink? Or no, it was the greeting, wasn't it? Too much enthusiasm.”

“Why do you even care? You got all the others, didn’t you?”

He clicked his tongue.

“I have standards. If there's one person who can tell the difference, my performance is obviously lacking.”

She huffed and added a little bow to the skirt she was working on. Knee-length and plain colored, decorated with small ribbons. Classic and elegant, yet a touch of playfulness. He would have complimented it if he'd thought she might value his opinion.

“If it wasn’t my words or gestures, what was it?”, he asked on, not willing to give up and admit defeat. It was their little routine by now. He'd come up and try to pass as Adrien, she'd see through him and he would try to annoy her until she either gave him her full attention, or snarked him off. Marinette Dupain-Cheng – despite her cute appearance – could be mean, he'd learned.

“I don’t think I want to tell you.”, she shrugged, but he could see the beginning of a smile tugging at her lips. She'd deny it, but secretly she enjoyed their little battles of wits.

“What?”, he gasped and slumped against her in played shock, conveniently knocking the book out of her hands and onto the steps of the Trocadero. “But why?”

Now unable to draw on, she finally gave him her undivided focus.

“Because you, Monsieur Graham de Vanilly, are a major pain in my butt.”

“Oh? I would have thought you above such pettiness.”, he lamented. “To deny a fellow fashion enthusiast your criticism! To dishonor the sacred solidarity between artists! Truly a shame.”

“You? An artist?” She snickered. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Hey! Deception is as much of an art as these tiny scribbles of yours. And I am a master of my craft, thank you very much.”

She waved her hand and shooed him back a little.

“The questionable status of your craft aside, I'd hardly call you an expert. You were here for a day and already had the entire class plus three akumas after you. Your play didn’t even last an hour before it blew up in your face. Maybe you should ask Lila for a bit of advice! She's been here for months and is still on her unquestioned bullshit.”

He growled at that, drawing out another of these smug little smirks Marinette so rarely wore. After all his visits she knew how to rile him up.

“Do not compare me to that- that klutz! Anybody could spew some fancy tales and name drop, but that doesn’t mean she has skill. There's no finesse, no authenticity beneath that badly styled hair of her.”

“And there is beneath yours?”, Marinette said sweetly. He huffed and raised his chin.

“Of course there is. I don’t run around as Adrien for the fame, but for the fun of it. And I actually put in some effort. I was only found out because my goal required breaking character, and I still had a score to settle with my dear cousin. You think I only depend on my pretty face, because it looks conveniently close to Adrien? Wrong!”

His chest swoll a little as he spoke. With his accomplishments, he'd earned a little pride in himself.

“True, artful deception requires three things Lila Rossi couldn’t fake if her life depended on it: Discretion, Distraction and the right timing. She only ever barges in headfirst, unable to survive even a second outside of the spotlight.”

She hummed.

“My mistake. How could I ever assume you to be alike, since you obviously care so little about getting attention?”

Snarky little minx. Well, she wasn’t wrong, to be fair.

“Enough of that!”, he decided and eagerly turned back to her. “Now tell me what gave me away.”

“Let me see...”, she mused and pursed her lips. “I guess I could tell you that...”

“Yes?”

“...under certain circumstances...”

“Go on!”

“...it might be...”

“Might be?”

“The scent.”

He blinked. This had been his mistake? What kind of cologne did his cousin even wear?

“The... the scent.”

“Uh-huh.”

She moved to get back to her sketching, but he snatched the book before she could even touch it.

“Nah-ah! First you've got to expand on that. What perfume is he wearing?”

She shrugged and leaned back.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious? Adrien always wears “Manners and Class” N° 5. You on the other hand reek of “Wouldn’t know politeness if it hit me in the face”. A poor choice, really.”

She leaned in.

“You stink.”

It took a moment for her words to register, and he couldn't suppress a gasp when they did. With a satisfied smile she tugged her sketchbook out of his hands and crossed her legs, ready to put the finishing touch on her latest design. Felix fell back on the step next to her.

“That's it.”

“Yup.”

“You've won.”

“Fair and square.”

“I am defeated.”

“Annihilated. But to be fair, that opening was too easy.”

“Perfect set-up. Clean execution. Merciless punchline. You have earned your victory, so claim it properly.”

“I will.”

He fell silent after that, acknowledging his defeat. He lasted all but two minutes before his need for attention beat his shame.

“So? What do you want as your prize?”

“Peace and quiet?”, she proposed, gnawing at the end of her pencil.

He shook his head in disbelief.

“You're more ambitious than that, Dupain-Cheng. Here I am, Felix Graham du Vanilly, offering you everything I can give, and you settle for peace and quiet? Tsk, you can do better than that.”

“Maybe I could ask you to clear the area, while I’m already at it. For the entire week.”

He should leave. He wouldn’t get any real feedback out of her today, and now that he had offered her a prize she might develop some common sense and ask him for his connections, or some favors that could get her publicity. He was stretching his luck every time he decided to pester her again.

But he stayed. Whether it was his wounded pride, or his curiosity ever since she'd sent that little love declaration to his cousin... he couldn’t allow the only borderline interesting person in this city to dismiss him like that. Especially not when he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of her yet.

An idea popped into his mind and he spoke before he could think.

“You could ask me for a date.”

Now Marinette did put her book away.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

She blinked.

“Did you miss the part where I asked you to leave me to my scribbles, as you put it? Because I am sure I mentioned it a few times, now.”

“No, doesn’t ring a bell.”

She groaned and closed her book. He counted that as a victory.

“Well, then maybe you remember the fact that I’m in love with Adrien. Which you already know, since you watched the video clearly addressed to him. And deleted said video. And replied very rudely.”

He hummed and stood up to circle her. An actor had to have a sense of drama, after all.

“The past is the past. And in the present, I look just like Adrien.”

Now he finally seemed to have broken through her cool facade.

“So what?”, she snapped at him, crossing her arms. “Do you think I like him for his looks? Am I that shallow, in your opinion?”

Of course she wasn’t. But he'd finally struck a nerve.

“You're not?”, he provoked slyly.

“No!”

She stomped her pink flats on the ground with more force than should be physically possible.

“I love him because he is kind. And thoughtful. And funny and confident and fair and so classy, and because he loves to make friends, and because he's loyal and caring and-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. He's your little fairy tale prince.”, he interrupted a little harsher than intended. Clearing his throat he continued. “And you'll be relieved to know that I don’t want to date you either. No offense to you, but I am above such mundane things as crushes.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back down.

“Of course you are.”

“Fact is, my dear Marinette,” he lectured smugly, “that you can’t even say two words to your loverboy without seemingly suffering a particularly unflattering stroke.”

“What a flowery statement, Sherlock.”

“Another fact is that you can talk very fluently to me. Far too fluently, in my opinion.”

Marinette's eyes narrowed with suspicion and he smiled.

“What's your point?”

“My point is,” he finished his circling and came to a stand right in front of her. “that you can use me to practice. Here, I'll even mess up my hair again!”

“Wait, I didn’t even agree to-“

“You're welcome. Aren’t I a dashing little dream prince?”

He posed in true Adrien fashion and Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Please, just don’t.”

“Pah! Ungrateful as always. Anyway, back to business!”

He spun into a dramatic pirouette and kneeled down before her, taking her hand between his.

“Marinette, my fairest!”, he proclaimed with vigor. “Is there something on that bright mind of yours you want to share with me, Adrien Agreste?”

She groaned again, but didn’t pull away.

“If you'll leave me alone after that...”

“I'll do anything my good friend asks of me! I am sunshine personified!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Close enough.”

He almost regretted looking for Marinette this late. The sun was about to set and most tourists had already left for locations with a better view. If there had been more, one might have captured a snap shot of Adrien Agreste kneeling in front of a random girl about to confess. His cousin would be delighted when he found out about his scandal in the news.

Alas, it was only the two of them who paid attention to each other. But Marinette was about to begin, so he didn’t ponder on the viewers anymore.

“I... I wanted to tell you that...”

He almost winced at that poor display of rhetorical talent, but she wasn’t done yet. Taking a deep breath, Marinette lifted her eyes off of her shoes and looked directly at him. And for a moment it felt as if she were looking into him. He'd seen these bluebell eyes roll in annoyance, glare in anger and sparkle with mirth, but never had he seen them this piercing, this all-consuming.

“Adrien, there's something I haven’t told you yet.”, she said, and it was as if he'd never heard her speak before. This wasn’t the voice that had teased and bantered with him, or the disinterested lull she mumbled in when she tried to ignore him. This was soft, yet firm and confident. Like tugging the strings of a violin: a clear, pleasant sound that offered a first hint of the potential in this slender instrument.

“I didn’t keep this from you because I don’t value our friendship.”, she said and her fingers tightened around his. Felix was suddenly sure that no expensive mudbath could ever make his skin as soft as hers. “It's the furthest thing from it. I didn’t tell you because I value our friendship so much. And I was scared to risk it.”

She took a step closer and he had to swallow.

“Adrien, you are the first person I think of when I wake up, and the only person I see in my dreams. Every morning, when I walk into class and see you, I feel like there's pure sunshine in my chest and springs under my feet. Like gravity is just a loose suggestion and I could float if I jumped. Like... like I could do anything I ever dreamed of.”

She looked down upon their hands. Disentangling their fingers surprised him, but even more surprising was that this time, she took his hands between hers.

“I know you feel trapped sometimes.”, she whispered and he found himself suddenly very insecure. Was she still acting? Was she this deep in their little charade? Or... or was she truly talking to him?

“I know you put up a smile and try to give everybody what they expect. And that you don’t have a lot of chances to just be you, not the heir of a great legacy. But I... I want to be your escape. Your safe haven. What I am trying to say is...”

She looked back up to him, and her smile was radiant.

“I love you.”

...

There was a tightness in his chest.

Because he wasn’t breathing, he realized.

Odd.

He didn’t have time to overthink this little detail, though. For as soon as he opened his mouth to say something – what, he didn’t know – she blinked and took a step back. The spell faded and his mouth fell shut again.

“So,” Marinette cleared her throat and looked away. “How... How was it?”

“Uh...”, he made, which was admittedly not the smartest reply he’d ever given her. The fact that he still hadn’t remembered to breathe in didn’t make things easier.

Marinette shifted her weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable.

“That bad?”

Ha.

Ha ha.

He shook his head and finally sucked in some much needed air.

“Good”, he croaked out, which was still not much of an improvement from his earlier statement of ‘uh’.

“It was... really good.”

Ah. The simple beauty of a full sentence.

“You think so?”, she asked, voice high with surprise. “It wasn’t... I don’t know, a little too much?”

“No!”, he answered a little too fast. “Uh, no. No, it was really... really good.”

Marinette's eyes went narrow.

“Are you making fun of me? Because I may be small, but if you did this to humiliate me then I swear to god, I will take this pencil and-“

“I was serious. What you said was beautiful.”

They both blinked at his words. He hadn’t meant to say that. This wasn’t how their interactions went. They were snarky. Mean. Teasing from time to time. But not... this. Never this open. Never vulnerable.

“Thank you.”, Marinette gave back, seemingly unsure herself. “I should... you know, it’s late and my parents are waiting.”

He nodded far too eagerly for his earlier efforts to make her stay.

“Yes, of course. I'll... No, you know the way better than me, probably.”

She laughed at that. It wasn’t a snicker, or one of her smug little huffs. It sounded... sweet.

“Yeah, no need to walk me home.”

She eyed him for a a moment, then the emptying place.

“I could walk you home, though. If you want to.”

Yes.

“No.”, he said and something in his chest roared in disappointment. “Thank you, but it would be quite the detour for you.”

She shrugged.

“Alright. Don’t get lost.”

Shouldering her bag she took her sketch book and moved to leave, but stopped mid movement to turn back around.

“Oh, and if you tell anybody – especially Adrien! – about any of this, you'll find out what I was going to do with that pencil! Got it?”

He rolled his eyes, finally in control of himself.

“Yes, oh great master of pencilmanship. Your weapon is as feared as its wielder.”

Satisfied she nodded and turned around, but stopped yet again. With a groan she dropped the bag, stepped in front of him and grabbed his collar. He'd never admit to anybody that the surprised squeal that followed had come from him. Utterly frozen in shock he could only watch as Marinette came closer and...

“There!”, she hummed and combed back his hair with her fingers. “I like you hair better this way.”

A small nod was all he could muster up, but it was enough for her. Waving him goodbye she turned around for good.

“Well then. See you around, Felix!”

He watched her leave, desperately trying to regain his voice.

“Y-Yeah. See you around, Marinette.”

Only when she had completely disappeared in the nearby metro station he allowed himself to sit down, wobbly knees no longer able to support him.

“What...”, he mumbled to himself, “...the entire fuck...”

What did just happen? Nothing made sense, not this stupid idea and certainly not his reaction to it. Sighing he leaned back against the steps and touched his hair. It was still a little messy, but laid back against his head in its usual fashion. If he concentrated he could almost feel the warmth of her fingers trapped between his strands.

He sighed deeply.

...damnit.

- - -

A little one shot because I hadn't written about canon!felix yet.

#miramu writes #felinette #felix graham de vanily #canon felix #ml felix #ml felinette #ml marinette #marinette dupain cheng

2K notes · View notes

remys-lucky-franc · 3 years

Text

I’m Bringing Sexy Back (To Regency England) - Immortal Heart Society

So this happened because I referred to new series IHS’s baddie Lord Montague as ‘Lord Timberlake’ due to the coiffuring similarities and it made @aquagirl1978 LOL and she made me this:

See how alike they look though?! I’m not crazy.

Literally no one in the world wants this fic, and it’s just stupid, but I had a giggle writing it, so 😆 Also, I genuinely know nothing about JT, if any of you are superfans and I’m way off, it’s just a bit of fun, no ill intent or offence meant 💕

Also it’s just in time for all the good old memes... (At the end if anyone needs a ref point)

Word Count ~3500 (yeah, I’ve gone off)

[MORE] [[MORE]]

In the grandiose but soulless marble bathroom of the Boston penthouse, Justin squeezed his eyes tight-shut, splashing his face with frigid water. He inhaled sharply as the moisture hit his skin, opening his eyes and staring intently at the reflection mirrored back at him. It had been quite a night so far. He’d been courted by ‘The Society’ for a couple of months now and on receiving their latest invite, he had finally acquiesced. Over the course of the evening he’d exchanged pleasantries and mingled with a fusion of intriguing individuals - all very different, very separate people, but all who clearly had gotten the memo: convince him to join. Justin suspected before he arrived, from the exclusive address on the invite alone, the sort of members The Society would have on its roster and he wasn’t surprised - even if most of them were no more than masked silhouettes. Initially when he had exited the elevator and caught sight of all those shaded faces, Justin’s heart stuttered: had he inadvertently accepted an invite to some sort of sexy party? How would he explain this one? ‘Hey Honey - funny story...’ But it didn’t take long to deduce that the disguises were all part of the prestige and served as identity protection rather than a conduit to anyone having any real sort of fun.

The mixer itself had been entertaining enough, but the hushed secrets shared in the drawing room were what had piqued his interested and saw him hiding in the restroom searching his own soul for answers. He’d been trading anecdotes with a handful of members before he was interrupter by a well dressed blonde and ushered through a side door, where he was greeted with a firm handshake by one of the top men within the society (apparently), Richard - Something. Initially Justin had smiled but internally rolled his eyes as he considered how these shady types only ever give out their first names - and how that felt particularly unfair when everyone here knew fine well what his surname was... Richard was perfectly charming and charismatic - in the same faux-caring, calculating way politicians are as they try to snare floating voters. His smile was bright and his words were warm, but his eyes were a stark contrast. The Society’s hoi-polloi were obviously deemed to have played their part in warming him up and now Richard was here to give him the hard-sell: and sell he did.

And at first, it sounded relatively normal. At first. Until Richard started with tall tales of how society members held all of the power in the world through power stones. Initially Justin got to his feet and scoffed - weren’t crystals just for spa days and hippies? This had to be a set up. He scanned the room looking for any clue of a hidden camera, Ashton Kutcher’s sneakers showing from behind a curtain perhaps - but nothing. It all sounded truly ridiculous, but as Richard stood, laying a firm hand on Justin’s shoulder, directing him towards a plush chair, pouring him two fingers of whisky, something held him; fascinated him. Stopped him from barging straight out of the room. Justin observed in silence as Richard thumbed through various documents, showing him photographs, pulling up search data online... Explaining. Convincing. Persuading. Justin didn’t trust the suave smarmy suit as far as he could throw him, but the more Richard divulged of the spiderweb of societal involvement in major global events and current affairs, the more sense it made... And in spite of himself, Justin started to succumb to this strange reality. Every word out of Clever Dick’s mouth was revelational, peeling away one layer after another, after another, until Justin’s mind was blown; his brain hurt the same way it did the first time he watched Inception. He couldn’t bend his mind around why Richard was telling him all this, or why a collective more powerful than The Walt Disney Company would want a musician to join their ranks? Richard shrugged coolly as he continued to play for Justin’s buy in, simply smiling and saying that, as a big pop star, it would be quid pro quo - a very mutually beneficial arrangement. The society had access to the best labels, the best A&R departments, they could get Justin as much airplay, fame and publicity as he wanted.

Justin couldn’t deny it sounded appealing - but what did they want in return? So far it was all ‘quid’ and no ‘quo’. He had to ask. Even the easy, practiced grin on Richard’s face couldn’t offset the glint of ice in his dark eyes and menace in his voice that chilled Justin’s blood.

“Justin, come! Everyone knows that music is what shapes the youth of today! The influence wielded by artists, the loyalty inspired by them, their marketability, it’s simply insurmountable! Think about it, dear boy? If The Society control the music, they control the populace.”

Justin cleared his throat as he sized himself up, readjusting his skinny black tie and squaring his shoulders. Richard must be insane. The Society’s logic was fatally flawed: they couldn’t seriously think that it was possible control the entire world’s population through having a singer in their ranks? It was infeasible. Impossible. But what they were offering him in exchange? Now, that was a very attractive proposition indeed. If he agreed to join, and got all of that out of it, it would be worth it? The Society would surely realise at some point that they couldn’t rule the world through the power of song? Yes, the power of a one-line harmony had already been proven by McDonald’s to sell a shit-tonne of burgers - and while it was a pretty convincing argument, selling fast-food to hungry people was one thing - but full-scale global domination?? That was something else entirely. But if he could ride along on their coat-tails and reap all the benefits until they realised just how crazy that idea had been in the first place...

—- two years later —-

Cash carded his hand through his dark hair, exasperated as he listened to Alana’s latest report, “You all understand that Timberlake is completely out of control, yes?”

Emilio grunted flatly as his head fell into his crossed arms on the table like a five year old ready to play heads-down-thumbs-up, “Yeeeeees.”

Cash bristled further as he looked to Rafe and Kiran for their input, both simply nodding back at him as though to say, ‘yes, we know.’

Alana looked down at her phone, worrying her full bottom lip between her teeth, “It’s worse than you think though, Cash.”

He was instantly on his feet staring at her, Rafe and Kiran leaned forward and Emilio raised one weary brow from his slumped pose, concern evident on all their faces.

Kiran was first to speak, “Alana how can it be worse? Richard’s vanished off the face of the earth. Justin’s last billboard count had him go multi-platinum - again, and his lyrics are becoming...”

Rafe offered flatly, “Odd.” He stood, cracked his neck from side to side and headed towards the small stove, absentmindedly filling a saucepan with water and a packet of instant noodles.

Cash shook his head at Rafe then turned back to glower at the rest of the Inner Circle, “Thank you all for the recap. It’s bleak, we know. Alana?”

Green eyes fixed the room as Alana cleared her throat and mouthed, “One hundred and ninety-four.”

Dumbfounded silence filled the room; jaws hung slack. Until Kiran broke the spell, a spluttering cough turning into an uncomfortable laugh, “One hundred and ninety-four what? Because I know you definitely can’t mean stones. We know the exactly location of over fifty percent of them? They’re safe?”

Rafe, back at the table with his ramen by now, paled as Alana shook her head at a loss for words, red curls bouncing around her shoulders, “How is that possible?”

Alana threw her hands in the air, confessing “I honestly don’t know. But he has ones that we knew the location of, and more besides.”

Cash paced the room, clearly agitated as he cursed and barked,

“That’s every stone in existence, except ours and one other.”

Alana puffed out her cheeks before huffing out the breath sharply, “Correct. He has the lot, excepts ours - and the Garnet.”

Emilio’s hand slid under his shirt, a double-check to be sure his Alexandrite remained firmly on the chain hidden beneath the dark fabric, fiddling with it like a child with a comfort blanket as he spoke, “I- I just don’t understand. How? How did he get so many without us knowing?”

Rafe shrugged as he shovelled a spoonful of noodles into his mouth and chewed thoroughly before answering, “Richard’s protege. His pet project. Nothing surprises me when he’s involved. Everything he touches gets tarnished.”

Alana sighed sadly, “Justin seemed like such a sweet guy when he first joined. I really liked him. I thought he could have been part of our Inner Circle someday.”

Rafe shot her a rueful smile before looking down into the noodles, “Same. He changed. Fast.” Coiling his fork in a thick helping, he swung them into his mouth without ceremony.

Cash pinched the bridge of his nose, stopping pacing for long enough to stare and snap at Rafe,

“What is it with you and those blasted ramen noodles??”

Rafe shook his head silently as though to say, ‘I don’t know’: he wasn’t entirely sure why, but every time someone mentioned Timberlake, he couldn’t stop himself from carb-loading. All he wanted a big bowl of ramen in his belly and he couldn’t think about anything else until he was full of noodley-goodness. He’d eaten more instant ramen in the past couple of years than he did during college, and that was saying something.

Kiran cut through the atmosphere between the two men, venturing, “So how are we going to shut him down?”

—-

Richard had been missing for months, and although all trails had gone cold and no one was one hundred percent clear on what had happened to him, there was very strong suspicion within the group of five that Justin had something to do with it. How else had he managed to acquire almost every power stone in existence? He must have dispensed of Richard and taken them for himself - there really didn’t seem, to be any other explanation. The Inner Circle had been aware that Richard was hoarding stones, but his haul had escalated significantly and quickly with Justin by his side - at the Circle’s last count maybe six to eight months ago, Richard only had sixty-five stones in his custody. The dirty duo had been busy.

Emilio shuddered solemnly as he thought about what must have happened to the rightful owners of those stones. He was at the tower with the Inner Circle, minus Cash. Cash would arrive soon, bringing Justin to the table with him. Creating a rouse of support, and then double-crossing him to recover the power stones had been deemed the only feasible plan. Emilio watched the rest of the group: Rafe stirring at a saucepan at the small kitchen set up, Kiran flipping aimlessly though a fashion magazine and Alana tapping at her cellphone. They were all feeling nervous about this, the stakes had never been so high. He scrubbed his brow as he ran through the various scenarios of what could possibly happen with Cash and Justin arrived.

He didn’t have long to wait as the door opened and laughter reverberated around the room. Cash was manoeuvring Timberlake expertly, and Justin seemed to be lapping up everything he said. A round of smiles and handshakes later everyone sat around the table, eyes expectantly on Cash.

“Justin, firstly, thank you for joining the group here today. As you know, with Richard... Let’s say, elsewhere. I’ve been standing in as the ‘interim leader’. And I’ll be frank, Justin, I always thought it would be for me, but it’s not. And it takes a lot for me to admit that. I can do the decision-making, the negotiations, but what I cannot abide is dealing with attitudes and egos all day long.”

Rafe chortled, “He thinks he should be the only one allowed an attitude and an ego!”

Justin grinned and visibly relaxed within the larger group.

Clearing his throat irately, Cash gestured towards Rafe, “Exactly what I’m talking about. Justin, my calling doesn’t lie in leading The Society. I am more interested in having a less ’public facing position’ shall we say, where I can really put my true talents to use. And that’s why I invited you to sit with us today, Justin.’

Timberlake nodded enthusiastically, “ I see.”

Cash stood, wearing a trail in the carpet as he walked back and forth,

“What are your goals, Justin? We understand you must be distraught about Richard’s disappearance, you two seemed close. Do you have aspirations for The Society’s Leadership? We’ve been observing you for some time, and feel that we could all benefit each other within this little group, everyone here wants to progress and wants ‘more’. And we feel like you may have some ideas that could help us all to achieve just that.”

Justin leaned back in his chair observing the group sat around the table. Of course he knew what his goals were. He’d never really considered leadership of The Society until recently - his mind had been consumed with his plan for ultimate pop domination over the past two years. And he’d progressed so far that it was within his grasp - and that was when he and Richard had begun to clash. Badly. Richard’s vision was so- So limited. He couldn’t see Justin’s potential past being a Society tool used to control the public. Justin knew his worth, he was more than a tool for Richard to implement as he saw fit. He felt the anger bubble inside him as he recalled the final fight with Richard. They could have controlled the entire world together: why couldn’t Richard have seen that? Why couldn’t he have got on board with Justin’s plans? As he sized up the twelve eyes watching him, he thought about the dozens of power stones locked securely in the safe in his apartment: these people could see his strength. His power. His star ascending. He leaned forward, his decision made,

“I have acquired many power stones and my plan is, to use our time-travelling abilities to go back in time and wipe other pop stars from existence, so that I am the single biggest pop star in the world today. Then with my influence, The Society will control everything. We, friends, will control the world.”

Alana and Kiran eyeballed each other as the men nodded at Justin.

Kiran interjected,

“There’s no doubt that The Society would benefit from that sort of influence, but what about all of the damage that would be done to culture and humanity without artists?”

Justin looked confused as he stared at her, “But they’d still have me?”

Kiran chewed the statement over before asking, “And who are you going after? Are we talking about Elvis? The Beatles? Frank Sinatra?”

Justin waved a hand as though he’d practiced this very conversation in the mirror a hundred times, “No, no. Only today’s artists. I can’t disrupt anyone who directly or indirectly influenced my career. Butterfly Effect and all.”

The Inner Circle nodded sagely as Justin continued, “And when my plan is complete, who, I ask you, will be the biggest pop star in the world??”

Alana glanced up grimacing, “I don’t know Justin, I mean Lady Gaga is pretty huge? Iconic, even.”

Emilio shook his head, “Right now, Ariana Grande’s the biggest artist in the world, I read it somewhere.”

Justin fixed them both with an affronted stare, “But think about it, if none of them ever existed... Then who would be the biggest pop star in the world?”

Alana and Emilio exchanged a world-weary glance as Justin cackled, “Guess what? It’s gonna be me.”

Rafe scrunched his nose, confused, speaking through a mouthful of ramen, “May? What? Are the Emmy’s not always in September?”

Cash shotshim a withering glance before grinning at Justin, “You’ve thought a lot about his haven’t you?”

Justin, visibly flattered, shrugged off Cash’s praise, “Just a little.”

Cash leaned towards Justin conspiratorially, “So tell us, what more do you need to make your dreams a reality, and how could we, as a group, facilitate that?”

—-

Over the next few weeks the Inner Circle had planned for two consecutive missions. One intricate scheme with Justin, that involved him travelling back over two hundred years to Regency England to secure the Garnet power stone from a Lady Foxworthy. And their own private secondary mission that involved luring Justin back to Regency England where there was no power stone to be found.

When the day to venture back in time arrived, Justin paraded around the tower preening in the mirror at his era-appropriate garb. Kiran had stitched it to perfection, a beautifully embroidered waistcoat over his cravat, fitted cream pants and a midnight blue, velvet long-tailed coat that really made his eyes pop. Rafe let out a low whistle, winking at Justin’s reflection in the mirror, “Looking sharp! Nice work Kiran.” This look was a definitely a step up from double denim!

Kiran moved around Justin turning him, dusting down his shoulders, “Oh hold up, you have a thread. Let me just get that for you. Can’t have you looking less than perfect!” She reached for her scissors and touched the back of his jacket whilst swiftly clipping a tuft of hair from the back of his head.

The corners of Cash’s mouth quirked upwards at her almost imperceptibly as he spoke, “Very elegant, good Sir. You look quite the part.”

Justin gave Cash a delighted twirl to show off his new threads before performing a low, sweeping bow - completely unaware of his missing locks - speaking in a haughty-sounding English accent, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Tarkhan, I am Lord Timberlake.”

Alana had to swig at a cup of water to stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter, it was like the only English person he’d ever heard speak before was Queen Elizabeth herself! Cash raised an eyebrow in her direction before addressing Justin, “You’re definitely comfortable travelling back alone, because it would only take Alana here a few minutes to change into something suitable and accompany you?”

Justin waved a hand dismissing the suggestion, quite honestly he didn’t want anyone cramping his style. It wasn’t Justin’s first time in Regency England - when he and Richard had travelled there previously he’d had a ball. He had exactly eight hours to get there, get the Garnet, have some fun in a previous era and get back - and then. Then a whole new era would begin. His era... Leader of the most powerful Society in the world and the biggest pop star in history. Justin grinned as he stepped forward, placing his hands around the ornate pocket watch and beginning the arcane chant to begin his voyage through time. The rest of the Inner Circle joined the chant, turning back the clocks within the tower as Justin’s world started to blur at the edges, drifting backwards through two hundred years of history.

After Justin was gone, a series of stealthy grins were exchanged around the group. Emilio breathed a sigh of relief, “We did it.”

Kiran tossed the little velvet bag with Justin’s hair inside to Cash - their insurance policy, should he need to be dealt with ‘more permanently’ at a later date. Today’s plan didn’t involve the singer being turned into a surprised-looking statue, just giving him an extended stay in Regency England instead... The garnet wasn’t there - in fact, there were no stones left there. It was common knowledge within the Inner Circle where the garnet was: firmly on the finger of Richard’s blissfully unaware and estranged daughter - passed down by his long-missing wife. A point that Timberlake was sadly remiss of: they all had banked on Richard never disclosing a topic so sore as his failure as a father out of pure pride and vanity - and they’d been correct...

Now there was nothing more to do than wind all the clocks back to the correct time, then sit and wait until Justin would try to get back.

—-

Seven and three-quarter hours later, the group within the tower saw a blurry portal loom in the corner of the room. Suddenly alert, they listened intently as Justin’s voice crackled through,

“Rafe, Cash, guys! Are you there? Help me! I can’t... I can’t get back! Alana?? The ritual, it’s not working, I’m not fading back through??”

Cash drawled as he examined his fingernails, looking thoroughly bored,

“Ah, so our little ritual worked then. Good to know.”

The passage through time became narrower and narrow as a sickening realisation suckerpunched Justin, panic rising like bile in his throat, “You... You did this on purpose!! You screwed me over!! You bastards!!!!”

As the portal flickered and shrunk to no more than a pinhole, echoes of the roars of their names reverberated around the room, until the gap sealed itself trapping Lord Timberlake in Regency England for ever more. Silence settled over the tower for a few moments, until Rafe glanced up at the rest of the group thorough his sweeping fringe, a smirk slowly stretching from ear to ear as he shrugs,

“Cry me a river...”

#immortal heart society #lovestruck

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agreeablesenseofthemacabre · 3 years

Text

Lifting the Sea

“Where’s Cas?”

Dean does a full comedic rotation before spotting the Angel— his husband— whatever, scowling at his phone near a landmark.

He shrugs, “Catching those little monster dudes probably. Apparently they’re all over the place here.”

Sam’s brow furls, he looks over at Eileen who shrugs.

“What?”

“You know that fuckin’ app that everybody was obsessed with like... 5 years ago? Pocket something something”

Sam frowns for a split second then it hits him.

“Pokémon go?”

“Yeah that shit.” Dean shrugs again, his green eyes still fixed on the man in question. “I knew it was a mistake getting a smartphone” but he doesn’t sound nearly as bothered as he claims. He glares upward. “It’s fucking hot”

Sam’s also dart up. “I mean. It’s the beach Dean.” He stares pointedly at his brother’s attire. “Would it kill you to buy some shorts maybe a tshirt?”

Dean pulls a face, but doesn’t argue, Cas is waving happily- just now noticing how far they’ve walked away from him. He points excitedly to his phone and says something.

“Can’t hear—” Dean sighs, “CAN’T HEAR YA CAS, you’re too far” he yells, smiling softly. “Asshole.”

Dean points at the nearby shop, waving to get Sam’s attention, a couple kids are clustered around Cas chattering to him animatedly.

“Sam. Can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back”

~~~

When Dean walks back out into the sunshine Cas has finally decided to join them. He’s signing to Eileen and going intensely through the alphabet. Probably more about that damn Pokémon game.

Sam whistles, “I’m blind” he laughs. “Your legs, they’re reflecting the sun”

Dean flips him off.

“No, but for real Dean, have your thighs ever been exposed to light? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“HA, HA, fuck you”

Cas turns at his voice, eyes glowing happily, and how in the hell did Dean Winchester get so lucky.

“I caught a Charizard in the wild Dean, none of the other players were able to capture him” He informs proudly, phone still out, finger flipping with precision, “You have very nice legs” he adds. “The sunlight will cause you to have more freckles, plus the added health benefits of vitamin D”

Dean winks, “Any nude beaches out here? I could benefit from your vitamin d”

Sam retches, seizing the umbrella from Dean and heading toward the beach. “You two are disgusting”

Dean waves cheerily before turning back to his boyfriend— husband.

“So What’s a charred—“

“Charizard.” Cas corrects, “dragon fire type”

“Uh-huh” Dean reaches for Cas’ hand, it takes him a second to get used to flicking with his thumb, but he manages, Dean lets Cas lead. “Did you bully those kids out of their dragon? Dragons suck dude.”

“It is very rare to catch in the wild, Edwin told me, he is one of the top players in this region, he is 12, and though he is Team Valor, and I am team Instinct, I decided to trust him.”

“Whatever you say babe.”

“I think you might enjoy this game Dean, it combines hunting and tracking with less bloodshed and all of the monsters seem kind.” Cas squints suddenly, yanking them out of the flow of traffic and down onto the beach. “I see combees.”

“Handsome and artistic, you’ve gotta be a serial killer right?”

Dean raises his head, shielding his eyes in the sun. She’s tall, and curvy with sparkling eyes and a near perfect smile.

“I don’t know about artistic, but I never murder and tell”

She throws out a hand.

“I’m Clarice”

“Dean.”

She notices the lift of his expression and rolls her eyes good naturally, “Yeah like Silence of the Lambs”

“Put the lotion in the basket” he intones with a mock accent.

“Yeah that never gets old”

He laughs and she smiles and takes a seat on the beach chair beside him.

“What brings you out here into the sunshine?”

“Celebratin’.” His eyes turn back to his sketchbook, thumb smudging a carefully drawn mop of black hair.

“Oh, that’s fun, how old are you?” She doesn’t seem bothered by his in attention, sips her drink and watches him sketch.

“Ah um” He shifts and does the mental math. “Forty-three I think...”

“Looking good” she says appreciatively. He’s too focused on the lines, eyes occasionally darting to the ocean, quite obviously only half listening. She’s not put off yet- no ring on his finger, only a necklace with two silver circles and that could mean anything.

“So uh, a couple of my friends are headed down into the—“

“DEAN!”

His attention is immediately diverted, a man waist-deep in the frigid surf is pointing excitedly at something, he’s still wearing his snorkel mask. He pulls something free of the water- revealing a long, lean wriggling shape.

“Is that a fucking shark?” Dean mutters in disbelief, then much louder “CAS is that a fucking shark?”

A giant man with longer hair stops splashing the woman with him, turns and starts cackling. The shark handler pulls his mask off, beaming. “Jack would love this!”

Clarice shades her eyes and takes a good look at the man with the shark and then at the drawing Dean’s been working on.

“Who’s that?” She asks, his distraction giving her a better chance seeing what’s in his sketchbook.

A lovingly rendered drawing of what looks like the man with the shark. But in the sketch it’s in a much different position, hair ruffled in detail over his brow. Blankets pooled around his barely covered hipbones. His eyes burn with inner heat despite the fact that they’re merely pencil on paper. His subject had clearly been in love with whomever he’d been looking at.

“That is my boyfriend, he’s gonna get his nipple bit off if he’s not careful.” Dean’s smiling cause Sam is trying to talk Cas into releasing the shark and is clearly failing. “Oh hell, I guess husband now.”

She stands, “I am so sorry, I didn’t realize. I gotta—“

“Nice to meet you Clarice” he says, honestly surprised by her quick exit. “Yo STEVE IRWIN. put the shark down and come up here— time to reapply sunblock”

“Who was that woman?” Cas asks, shaking like a dog and stirring a loud swearing session out of Dean as he shields his sketchbook from the saltwater.

“What woman?”

“The one speaking to you earlier? When I caught the shark?”

Dean looks completely vacant before remembering. “Oh shit, yeah! Clarice or something. Nice lady.”

Cas nods, waiting patiently while Dean starts applying sunscreen to his back.

“Did she need something?”

Dean shrugs, “just being friendly I guess, lean close. I gotta get your nose”

Cas hums and obliges, he grins suddenly and rips open a Velcro pocket in his trunks revealing his prize to Dean.

“Is that a goddamn crab Castiel?”

The angel nods happily. “We should find out if Claire can FaceTime. She would love to see.”

Claire and Kaia lean close, Dean’s got the camera aimed so that it’s mostly sky and their foreheads. Cas is smushed against his cheek waving.

“Jesus.” Claire hisses. “Hold the damn camera still. Dean— look, YOU’RE the square in the corner.”

Kaia hasn’t stopped giggling since they connected.

“How is Kansas?” Cas asks. “Are you well?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You’ve been gone two days. It’s the same Cas— house burned down and a ghoul attack—“

The camera reels, two deep gruff voices start speaking rapidly.

“She’s joking!” Kaia intervenes. “Castiel, Dean. She’s joking. We’re fine and safe, worst thing that happened is we ran out of coffee.”

He nods seriously— the left side of Dean’s face is unamused.

“Tell them not to put damn Walmart coffee in my coffee machine—“

Cas lifts a blurry item into view. “I caught a crab today,”

She freezes only for a moment, crabs had been her thing in 1st grade. Her dad had shared some of his favorite memories with Cas; she was realizing that he did it because he trusted the angel. The crab thing was a new one— he seems proud though, pleased that he remembered.

“He also caught a fucking shark with his bare hands.” Dean adds, taking the phone back, view now up his nostrils. They’re both sunburned and nearly glowing with happiness. “Almost lost a nipple”

“I did not.” It’s Cas’ turn to roll his eyes. “I will send you photographs via messaging after the call.”

“When are you guys headed back?” Claire asks, cause she’s pleased about the pictures and doesn’t know how to admit it.

Dean turns the camera again. This time slightly more centered.

“Sam and Eileen are heading home tomorrow, but Cas says he has more surprises for me and “undomesticated equine could not drag the secrets from him’”

Dean and Claire snort simultaneously.

“I was being funny.” Cas interjects, Dean laughs at something off camera and grabs his face, kissing Cas’ cheek. “I know the saying.”

“Gotta go.” Dean says, with a wink. “Gotta get our vitamin D for the day, right Sunshine?”

The camera tips; Cas is frowning in confusion and they can barely see the top of Dean’s now suggestively wagging eyebrows.

“Oh. Uh. Yes.” Cas looks guiltily at the phone and shakes his head at Dean. “Vitamins.”

Kaia starts wheezing with laughter. It dawns on Claire moments later.

“That’s fucking gross.”

Cas shrugs apologetically, Dean’s laughter fills the background.

“We appear to be having connection issues.” Cas mutters, They watch Cas fumble with the phone as he frantically tries to hang up before Dean does anything scandalous.

“See you in a week!” Dean shouts. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Bye...” the screen goes dark and Claire is left with her and Kaia’s amused reflections. “Dads.”

If you liked this it’s connected to my ao3 vibesandwonders. Come say hey here and see the rest of the series

#destiel honeymoon #destiel #dean winchester #Castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #casdean #ficlet #spn #supernatural #domestic destiel #domestic deancas #kaia nieves #claire novak #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn drabble #spn destiel

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werezmastarbucks · 3 years

Text

boston

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2538

music: savage streets by perturbator, you’ll only be safe with me by tuff turf, dark all day by gunship

You stood on one knee, feeling Kai’s fingers under your belt as he held you. You shoved out of the window half way, and yelled,

“I’m good!”

He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and the car roared angrily, tearing through the night mist.

The black shadows surrounded you, floating out of the metal and brick twilight of the street so suddenly fear shot through you like lightning. You held up your shotgun and aimed, trying to balance with your hip on the frame of the window. Falling out of the window would mean imminent death: zombies were everywhere. They were waiting on the corners, in the windows of the buildings, hiding in the shade, behind the smelly dumpsters and in the middle of the road. As the city lights died out, and the car raced deeper into the district, golden and silver changed into cold blue and electric, the colors of docks and warehouses.

“I got them!”

“Shoot!” Kai yelled.

You exhaled and did not inhale, because the best snipers don’t breathe when shooting. As the monster truck passed by the cluster of black silhouettes, you fired three rounds into them, scaring the gathering and hitting one of them. Then you fell back into your seat and pulled your hair away from your face. It will be a bitch to try and brush after. The car drove out into the narrow quay where black water lay like glistening dirty skin, and Kai’s face was yellow in the passing bleak lights.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, poiting at the figure on the roof on the left. He slowed down a little, and you looked back to make sure nobody’s following you. You set the shotgun on your right.

“It’s Jeepers Creepers”.

“Wha... Y/N. What is Jeepers fucking Creepers doing at our zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know, Kai”, you snarled, “maybe he launched it. How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re driving me crazy”.

“I am afraid of Jeepers Creepers, okay? He’s gonna be the final boss”.

“I’m gonna tear his balls off”, Kai mumbled.

“He’ll take yours. That’s what he does”, you reminded him.

Kai snored.

“Get up. There’s more. They must have circled the parking lot. Look”.

Right in the middle of the road, where yellow fog was floating in the air like phantom veil, and the asphalt glistened, sweaty after 10PM rain, the black shadows barricaded the road. Kai stopped the car, and the low grumble slowly faded into the quiet, monotnous howl of the city. Somewhere, trains were moving to and fro on the rails, colliding with each other, creating noise. The factories were working, sending black smoke into the opaque sky, clogged by unwilling cigarrette clouds. The river itself, it seemed, hummed something very low, like a deadly lullaby. This world was a hostile and lonesome place. The only warm thing in here was Kai’s body sitting next to you, radiating humanity. You jerked your shotgun. You knew he was seeing exactly the same thing as you did - a bunch of zombies swaying slowly in your direction. He turned up the music a little.

“Ready?”

“Yeah”.

“Aim better or else we’re gonna drive in circles all night”.

“Don’t tell me how to kill zombies, Kai”.

He mimicked you, starting the car.

Next night, it was his turn, and you did the same thing, racing through the night city, crashing into cardbox fortresses and blowing up the glass forts, shooting the heads off the zombies, until you both have had enough of that zombie apocalypse world. It has been some time until you got tired.

(To get into the right mood, you have occupied the Columbus Movie Theatre for like a week, rewatching zombie movies. Turned out, you can’t just walk into a movie theatre and find all the zombie films piled up neatly in the movie room - or whatever it’s called. You have argued about them again and again, Kai insisting on Evil Dead being immortal classic, but the Day of the Dead was his all-time favorite. You nearly got into a fistfight with him over the Return of the Living Dead.

“Of course”, he puffed and laughed out, condescending as hell.

“What’s that laugh?!” you demanded. Kai shrugged.

“It’s such a girly thing. Return of the Living Dead. The third part is also your favorite, isn’t it?”

And he gave you the nastiest look. You narrowed your eyes.

“You bigot. You absolute fuckface. The first one is my favorite”.

He was enjoying himself too much, obviously agitated by the topic, not entirely there.

“Okay, okay”.

“But for the record, yes, I do think that the third part is the best love story I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s incredible”.

Kai nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“She managed to fight off her cannibalistic instinct not to hurt the person she loved. She tore herself with needles and hooks to fight the urge to kill him and actually managed to keep him safe although she was literally a flesh eating zombie. How cool is that?”

Kai sighed and looked you in the eye.

“Very cool’, he said, with the tone that screamed ‘you’re silly and I adore you’.

“What other movies came out this year?”

“Not many, it’s only May”, he replied, digging deep into the box with films.

“Is Dream Lover out yet?”

“Yep”.

“We should watch it”.

“Later”, Kai said, throwing a film across the room and allowing it to crash into pieces. You hoped to hell it wasn’t Dream Lover.

“And Freddie Krueger?”

“No, not yet”.

“Damn it”, you looked over his shoulder.

“No Freddie Krueger!” he announced, “that’s it, she draws the line at Freddie. We’re leaving now”.

You laughed.

In the dark movie room, you could choose any row, any seats. You nested against each other, honoring the sacred cinema theatre tradition to gently touch in the twilight. While the action unfolded on screen, you had to shove popcorn into Kai’s mouth because it was the only way you could make him stop talking. When you ran out of popcorn, you had to shut him up with your mouth. It was a great week.)

You looked around the street and then, at Kai. How lucky he was, to find himself in this wretched place with someone as willing to play zombies as you were. You should do it more often. Maybe you should act out Mist next, somewhere in Houston.

You pulled your backpack up, and your eyes darted towards the black tower, ominous, insidious without any light, like a gigantic grave stone. Before Parker cut all the electricity, it was the Hancock Tower, now, it was just Tower. And the path to it lay through the dangerous city filled with brain craving monsters, bloodthirsty, dumb and ferocious, and you were running out of bullets. Besides, earlier on, you fell through one of the cardboard box forteresses and bruised your knee so badly, together with your left hand which you landed on. This adventure would be the death of you.

Kai twitched.

“I hear something”, he said, cocking his gun. You stood behind him, one-handed, unable to shoot. You closed your eyes. Lo, if they attack from all directions, you won’t be any help. A wounded companion is worse than an enemy in this world. You wondered if Kai would leave you alone to be eaten and stall them, or whether he’d shoot you in the head first, to spare you.

He walked on a little, entering a small square, and the black outlines of hairless, clotheless humans frightened you like you weren’t the one who had put them there ten hours earlier. They spooked you every time.

Kai shot three times, hitting each mannequin with one bullet.

“On the roof!” you pointed, turning back. You bowed as he threw up his shotgun, and fired. Heavy plastic body hopped and rolled down, falling on the ground. Kai could see in the dark so well you had to remind yourself he was human. Sometimes you would forget that fact completely. He was so different from everybody else.

He led you towards the tower where you stabbed one of the zombies in the throat. He was good at shooting, but you were very gifted with stabbing. You never missed.

“God damn”, Kai panted, as the mannequin swayed and collapsed on the asphalt just next to the glass door he was holding for you, “you saved my life”.

He took you in the movie gesture, pulling you into a long kiss. Your wrist started swelling and you had to take off your electronic watch temporarily. In the bleak room, it shone with green thin neon light from the bedside table while you had sex on the matrass.

In the middle of the night something fell off the roof, and scared the hell out of you - for real this time. You did not put anything on the top of the Tower since it was your fort. In the morning you came up on the top, while Kai went down and examined the object. Turned out, on the tenth of May, 1994, one single bag filled with files and staplers fell off the roof of the Hancock Tower. There was no way of knowing why.

“Wake up”.

You opened your eyes and rubbed your neck, aching from sleeping on the single mattrass on the floor. You looked out of the window. It has just stopped raining, which meant it was already close to midnight. In the dystopian Boston, you have switched to night regime of living completely because in the daylight, mannequins randomly standing in the streets looked simply stupid.

“The Titans”, he said. Kai’s face was so close to yours, you could feel the words on your skin. His eyes shone nervously.

“What Titans? It’s zombie apocalypse, Kai”.

He frowned.

“And what was Jeepers Creepers doing there then?”

“Oh my god”, you groaned, “let go of it already! You killed him like a week ago”.

“Come on, see for yourself”, he pulled you up, and you walked to the window, and gasped, instantly feeling for Kai’s hand. It couldn’t be happening.

That’s it! This madness finally drove you... mad.

There was an actual silhouette, the one you didn’t put there, and possibly couldn’t. The one that could not be put there for the life of you. The one of proportions too great for anyone to put it in the middle of the city, one foot on the right side of the river, and the other, on the left.

“What the fuck!” you yelled, your fright real as ever. Kai grinned happily, but then his face changed back to the philosophical expression of impending doom.

“This is it, Y/N. The zombies... and that dude... were just omens, but that’s it. The sky people have come to destroy us. It’s the end“.

“Seriously, Kai, how did you put it up... there?”

The sky was blackish-bordeaux, like usual. The river was seen just fine from here, from the top floor of the Tower. You had a pretty good look on the gloomy city and all its post-war industrial charm. The figure was so big it stood almost above the Tower itself; he reminded you of the Colossus of Rhodos, the Bronze Man, or one of the mythical golden gods of ancient times. You could actually feel your heart trying to break the hell out of your ribcage in a desperate attempt to kill itself. You couldn’t breathe for a second, mortified by the size of that thing. It was one of the deepest nightmares of your childhood, one of the visions haunting you from when you were little and kept dreaming about the end of the world.

You told Kai about those, and he now used them against you, but you appreciated the performance. It was all almost like art. It was horrifying and great, but you hated it.

“He came down from the clouds”, Kai said quietly, like a dispassionate narrator. Who already knows what’s coming, and doesn’t give a shit, because he’s already dead.

“To press the earth into the core of the planet, and make all life perish. He shall walk the land... waging his wrath on all that breathes. Including you and me”.

You made an effort to turn away, mesmerized by the statue, and looked at Kai.

“How much magic have you wasted on it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break the character, it takes me a lot of concentration”.

“Sorry”, you whispered.

“How do you feel about facing the end of the world with me?” he asked.

It was a damn good question. Parker really did ask all the right questions. After all the time in post-apocalyptic Boston, surrounded by enemy, living in a dark den and barely seeing the sun, it was very easy to actually sense the end coming. You clutched your own elbows, thinking. Strangely, you weren’t scared anymore.

A part of his face was in the shadow. He blinked the way you’ve only ever seen Kai blink, just a little, as if he didn’t want to lose visual even for a split second.

“I’m okay with it. I have lived a fine life, in my totalitarian city, guarded by robots and...”

“...zombies...”

“Hunted down by Harrison Ford...”

“You just jumble together all the movies, it’s actually insane, stop it”.

“But now as Cthulhu has sent its warriors...” (Kai rolled his eyes), “I’m ready to go”.

A lonely honk of a train cut through the distance making you feel melancholic. The trains were just crawling there day and night, filling the air with their lonesome cries occasionally. It would make any reasonable person go crazy, too.

“What will be the last thing you do before you die?” he whispered, his nose almost touching yours. You gave in, hot slow lava crawling up your body. You took Kai’s waist, trying to feel his ribs through three layers of clothing.

“You”.

He probably wore three or four shirts just to see you go nuts as you tried to undress him every time. His street jacket goes, then, a pullover, then a shirt, then another shirt, and you groan with anger as he chuckles at you, his hands snaking under your clothes at once. Your skin went shivering, covered with goose bumps under his fingers, like by magic.

As he pushed you against the wall, the gigantic Titan started melting above the river, looming shadow stepping away from the city, which was flattering. Kai’s whole mind was directed at you now.

You thought about how one loves at the brink of extinction; is it passionate, like when Kai grabbed your shoulder, your hair, pounding you into the floor, or is it gentle and thoughtful, like when you only moved your hips slowly, pressed against each other like two halves of Oreo, or is it impatient, breathless and vile, like when he was fucking you against the wall, talking all the way through your whimpering?

It took the end of the world for you to end up on his dick.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #tvd #vampire diaries

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the12thnightproject · 3 years

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Chapter 8: Lessons in Seduction

Taking a moonlight bath in a lake near Kasugayama was a really bad idea. Trying to bargain with a strategist... a worse idea.

Notes for a future life: if the audience is screaming ‘don’t go into the basement, don’t go into the basement,’ then don’t go into the basement.’ Or in this case, don’t go skinny dipping in an unsecured location.

As I continued to curse my luck, Shingen looked at the ground, leaned over, and casually picked up my “towel.” (No, bath towels haven’t made their way over from Persia yet, but for simplicity’s sake, I’m mentally using the word towel, because it’s faster than using the phrase ‘large piece of fabric that I intended to use as person-drying-device’… and yes, my brain did short circuit into ramble mode because for the first time since we’d met, Shingen directed the full wattage of his charisma at me, and… it’s a lot. It was surprising that the water closest to him hadn’t started steaming. Yet.)

He examined the towel. “Not a mermaid then. A Moon Goddess, bathing in the light of her celestial sister.” Ok, there was a quarter moon out, I’ll allow him that one. Thankfully, it was no brighter than that, or I’d be worried he’d connect this me with Katsu.

Now leave me alone sir, before I freeze. It felt a lot colder once I was no longer splashing around.

He opened the towel and shook it. “Do you want this back, Angel? I imagine you do – I can tell you’re very cold in there.”

Yes, of course I want the - then my brain kick started with embarrassment. How exactly could he tell that I was cold? I sunk lower until the water covered my chin.

“Your teeth are chattering.” Oh. So they were. Ok. At least he didn’t see- “And,” he directed his gaze to the water line. “Other reasons.” I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you dead.” When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Could the developers please hurry up with the ‘kill you with my mind’ patch?

Keeping one arm over my “other reasons” I edged closer to reach for the towel, but he was holding it just out of range.

“I’m proposing a trade, Angel. You want this,” he shook the towel again. “And I would like one kiss from those very blue lips.” He looked at me, then the same slow smile that he had loosed upon the women at the teahouse last week spread across his features.

Why hadn’t I kept my eyes closed? His smile is lethal.

If I answered him, would he recognize my voice? Thanks to Aki’s training, I was used to pitching my voice as ‘Katsuhira’ lower than my normal tones. I should be safe, but I also had thought my bath would be uninterrupted and Mai had thought the water would be warm enough, so the women of Kasugayama were 0-2 in judgment today.

My poor judgment further manifested when I began shivering.

Shingen stepped closer to the lake. “Get out of there before you freeze to death. I’m catching a cold from looking at you.” There was an edge to his voice that suggested he’d come in after me if I didn’t hurry. Of course, if he really wanted me to get out of the water, he should leave me alone, but that didn’t seem to be on his agenda.

I raised my hand, and circled my finger, hoping he’d get a clue and turn around. He folded his arms and leaned back against a tree, clearly prepared to wait me out.

Right. Didn’t think that would work.

Ok. What were my options?

Plan A. I could swim to a further part of the shore and book it out of here. I was certain of my ability to outrun him, but I wasn’t keen on the idea of streaking barefoot through the forest. If Sasuke was leaking ground spikes again, I’d be risking foot injury – which would be difficult to explain tomorrow.

Plan B. Stay here and freeze. No, let’s avoid any solutions that would involve cryogenics.

Plan C. Game this thing out. After considering that idea, I realized he had left me a loophole.

I held up my index finger, signaling “one.”

“Right. One kiss in exchange for this nice, dry, warm, blanket.” He held open the towel.

Alright. I guess we’re doing this.

I took a deep breath for courage and bolted out of the water, zipping squarely into the towel he held open like a target. “There you go,” he murmured as he wrapped me up. His body radiated a potent heat compared to the lake water, making me aware just how close I had come to courting hypothermia. He briskly rubbed my back and shoulders, then grabbed a corner of the towel and scrubbed it over my hair a few times. Maybe he had truly been concerned that I would freeze.

Then he leaned closer, his voice scorching my ear. “Kiss me, Angel.” He brought that beautiful face closer to mine.

I rose up on my tiptoes and at the last moment, changed the angle to briefly kiss his cheek. (Loophole!). I almost laughed at his chagrined expression.

Then I pulled back and tugged at the towel. He did not let go. Again, I tried to pull away. “That didn’t count,” he said.

Risking a verbal response, I said, “You didn’t specify where you wanted to be kissed.”

“She speaks!” He ran his thumb across my lips, his touch doing much to counteract the cold of the lake. With a smile, he continued. “You are correct, Angel, I did not specify.”

I gripped the towel to my body and again tried to leave, but his arms were firmly wrapped around me. Though I wasn’t frightened, I was annoyed enough to give him my best glare.

He tapped my nose with his finger. “Our agreement was for one kiss in exchange for the blanket. You are holding the blanket, are you not?”

I was, but…

“If you wanted to leave with the blanket, you ought to have specified.” Then he winked (!) at me.

One, all.

Forgot I was dealing with a strategist. Let’s try this again. I drew myself up to my full height and spoke with as much dignity it was possible to muster when wearing only a towel and a warlord. “I would like to leave right now with the … er, blanket, alone, and be assured that you won’t follow me.” That, hopefully, would cover all contingencies from sneaky warlords.

“An Angel who negotiates. I’m intrigued.” He pulled me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head. I made a half-hearted attempt to scoot away, but he massaged more warmth into my shoulders. “You’re still shivering. I’m only trying to warm you up.”

Yeah. No one with half a brain would believe that one. Even the chorus of crickets in the background was going, ‘nope, nope, nope.’ “And next, you’re going to try and sell me a castle that you don’t own?”

I could sense him smiling into my hair. “You opened the negotiation with three requests. One proper kiss of a suitable duration, per request – for a total of three kisses.”

“I can count,” I muttered. If I had to kiss him, then at least then I would know what it was like to kiss him, and I could stop wondering. I’d have to stop at one kiss though – one kiss, then this ‘Angel’ was going fly away forever. I felt a slight pang of disappointment about that, but staying with him too long only increased the chance that he’d find out that ‘Angel’ was also ‘Katsu.’ So. That was that. I counter-offered with, “One for the lot.”

“Two. Two proper kisses of a suitable duration.” He lifted a clump of wet hair out of my eyes, flicking it behind my ear.

That … was vague. Too vague. I leaned back and looked at him. “What do you mean by a proper kiss of-”

I got almost through that question and that Star Wars Fish Alien whose name I can’t remember broke through my obviously hypothermic brain (I normally would not have made such a stupid miscalculation), yelling ‘it’s a trap!’ then Shingen said, “Like this” and closed the gap between our mouths.

Oh.

Oh!

He really is good at this.

His lips glided over mine, gently at first, merely brushing past before pausing, hovering, almost touching, but not. Maybe I should have moved, but instead, I held my breath, until he pressed his mouth to mine again. He held me firmly against his body, but didn’t try to overpower me, and as I relaxed into his kiss, he brought one hand up to cup my cheek.

His hair tickled the back of my hand - only then did I realize I had put my arms around his neck to bring him closer. He took his time, acting like he wanted to savor me, like I was one of those pastries he loved so much. And with that image, came the taste of sugar – I don’t know if he actually tasted like sugar, or if it was because I associated him with pastries – but I had not expected such sweetness in his kiss.

Then he flicked his tongue across my lower lip and nipped at it. Surprised, I gasped, and he slipped his tongue inside my mouth. He placed his hand on the back of my head to draw me closer still. His kiss was warming all over, defrosting my lake frozen-body, and I wanted to get closer to that warmth, let it burn through me even, and that was my last coherent thought for a while and I went with it.

Yes. Him. Now.

Then bargains and agreements went out the window, as he slid his mouth down to the base of my throat and pressed a kiss to it that had me catching my breath in a moan and I grabbed his shoulders to keep from sliding to the ground in a boneless heap.

“I knew you’d like that, Angel,” he murmured. There was both laughter and triumph in his voice, and finally my brain woke up and broke free of that seductive hold.

Angel. Goddess. He wasn’t kissing me. He didn’t know me. I could have been any woman. The realization, as cold as the lake, help me retake control of my senses.

No, I would take my chances with the ground spikes.

Flipping the towel up and over his head, temporarily blinding him and tangling him up in fabric; I used that element of surprise to make a run for it.

I dashed through the underbrush, then swung up into the tree I had secreted my clothing in earlier. In a flash (literally), I was sitting on a thick branch, clutching the bundle of ‘Katsuhira’s’ clothes like a security blanket. I pressed my hand to my mouth to silence my rapid breathing – my lips were still tingling from his kiss.

Somewhere below me, Shingen was crashing through the trees, calling for “Angel”.

The calls stopped suddenly with a muttered oath.

Watch out for ground spikes.

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

Luckily, the night guards didn’t examine me too closely when I returned to the castle, my damp hair tucked into my clothes and creating a giant wet spot on my back. They were used to Shingen’s staff coming and going at all hours. Once inside, though, I had the sense that someone was watching me as I hurried through the corridor to my room. I paused, looked around, and noticed that a doorway that had been closed when I passed it a moment ago was now cracked open.

After a brief mental debate – I was wet and armed with only a dagger – I crept back, and peered through the tiny sliver of open space. It appeared to be a storage room, I couldn’t see anyone in it, though they could be lurking behind the door. I listened for movement, breathing… anything, but the only noise I heard was coming from the corridor behind me – two vassals were heading my way, engaged in some nonsense argument over the best brand of sake in the area. Not wanting to be caught lurking, I gave up on the idea of investigating further, and returned to my room. I’d return to this one tomorrow and give it a thorough examination.

To my surprise, I managed to fall asleep without much difficulty, especially considering the effect my night swim and the aftermath had on my imagination. My brain basically just shut down in self-defense. I woke up once a bit later when my brain produced the name of the Star Wars Fish Alien (Admiral Ackbar), fell asleep again, only to be jarred awake again by the sound of my door sliding open.

I reached for the dagger I kept next to the futon.

“Don’t be alarmed, it’s just me,” Shingen stood in the doorway, a lantern in one hand, and a packet of letters in the other.

Actually, I found that pretty alarming. Had he figured it out already? Had ‘Angel,’ like Cinderella, left something behind?

He gestured to the messages. “Can you deliver these first thing?”

Oh. Ok. He hadn’t figured it out. “First thing as in right now?”

Please say no and go away.

“No, I’m simply dropping them off. It can wait until sunrise.”

Good. Now, go away.

My mind control was working about as well as it had earlier this evening – which is to say not at all. Perhaps I should have added the phrase these are not the droids you’re looking for to it?

He moved from the doorway and came into the room, and I was suddenly conscious that I wasn’t wearing the binder over my breasts, and that my hair, though pulled back, was still wet. I pulled the blanket over my head and rolled into a ball and did my best impression of a lazy teenager. “Will do.” I mumbled, trying to give every indication that I was nearly asleep again.

“You’re not terribly alert for someone who’s already legendary for getting up and around early in the morning,” as he placed the letters on my writing desk, then sat down behind it.

I risked Kilroying my eyes and nose over the edge of the blanket. “Being a morning person usually requires being asleep at this particular time of the night.”

He laughed. “Don’t mind me, I just realized I need to write another.” He grabbed some paper and the brush off the desk and I was suddenly glad that I was the organized type of person who did not leave incriminating things lying about. (Actually, that is exactly why I am organized).

As I once again retreated under the blanket, I wondered if maybe he had figured out my disguise and was torturing me for the fun of it, but the rhythmic and determined scritch of the brush across the page convinced me he truly was writing an urgent message. Finally, my curiosity won out, and I asked, “What’s going on?”

He bent over the desk, the light of the lantern turning his hair from auburn to burnished red. “I’m looking for a woman.”

“Aren’t you always?” I muttered, as I mentally swore at myself for asking. That catch-all nickname “Angel” still stung my ego, even as I rationally knew it shouldn’t. I hadn’t told him “Angel’s” name, and for all he knew, we had just “met.”

“A specific woman,” he clarified, the brush still scribbling furiously on the paper. “Part Mermaid, part Moon Goddess.” He mumbled something else under his breath that may have been ‘imp.’ Or limp? Well, he had stepped on a ground spike.

“What makes that one special?” Ego damage repair sequence initiating.

He rolled the handle of the brush over and over his fingers like a magician manipulating a playing card. “We were playing a game of sorts, and the next move is to be mine. But I need to locate her first.”

I needed to shut this thing down. Though it might be a good idea to learn what he had in store for Angel, so that I had a next move of my own. Or, better yet, avoid getting into a situation where a move needed to be made. “A game? Like shogi?”

“Somewhat, although I’ve never found that particular game all that exciting. But it does involve thinking several moves in advance.” He smiled, and I got very very worried. “Of course, if we play this game correctly, we will both win.”

I might be in trouble. I inched further under my blanket.

“What have the messages to do with it?” Did he write Angel a note and address it to the North Pole? Or the Moon, probably, because of that goddess thing.

“I’ve asked my mitsumono to search for her, as the lady is probably a spy.”

I am definitely in trouble.

He tapped the pile of letters. “Sorry to have disturbed you, Katsu.” And then he was gone.

Link to complete work, Twelve Lies I Told Shingen Takeda here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32812042?view_full_work=true

#ikemen fanfiction #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen shingen #shingen takeda #fanfiction #fanfic #ikesen fanfic #ao3 link

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brandyllyn · 3 years

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In our own image... (03)

Chapter 3

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 1700. Read it on AO3.

Rating: Teen & Up (PG) language?

Poe ran a hand through his hair, looking at himself in the small shaving mirror. He tilted his head back and forth, finally letting out a short curse. He’d messed up his sideburns this morning. One of them was noticeably higher than the other. It would grow back within a couple of days but today was the day he was supposed to retrieve BB-8 from the Droidsmith. He had kind of hoped that he would look good for it.

He leaned back, trying to see as much of himself as he could. He undid one of the buttons on his shirt and then quickly shook his head and did it back up. There was no reason the woman needed to see his nipples just yet. Anxiously, he pulled the sleeves of his shirt down, buttoning the cuffs in brisk movements. Then he hooked his thumbs into his belt, settling his weight back on one foot.

"Hey," he told his reflection, raising one eyebrow. The man in the mirror did the same and Poe groaned. He looked like an idiot. Scrubbing a hand across his face he grabbed his blaster belt and buckled it on, leaving before he spent the next hour trying to figure out how he could make a curl fall across his forehead just right. His hair was always doing that. Always almost in his eyes. But not today. Of course not. Today it was sticking up in seven different directions and no amount of cursing or trying to flatten it down with water had helped.

Pushing aside the cloth he used for a door, Poe nearly ran head first into Snap. The older man stepped back and Poe caught himself before falling on his face.

"Whoa there," Snap muttered, "what’s got you in knots this morning?"

"Nothing," Poe said quickly. Too quickly.

Snap raised an eyebrow, "Nothing eh? Does this nothing have something to do with finally getting your little droid back today?"

Poe released a breath. Oh, Snap thought he was anxious because he missed BB-8. He was, and he did. It was valid. "Yeah," he smiles at the older man, "that’s it."

"Come have breakfast first," Snap told him, falling into step beside Poe. They had to duck under the nose of Black One. Like every pilot on base, Poe slept within twenty feet of his ship. "If you don’t you’re going to be so caught up petting that little guy that you’ll forget to eat and then I’ll have to deal with hungry Dameron the rest of the morning."

Snap gave a dramatic shudder and Poe punched him lightly on the arm. "I’m not that bad."

"Who’s not that bad?" Pava asked, intercepting them as they passed Black Three.

"Dameron when he’s hungry," Snap informed her before Poe could say anything.

"Oh Gods no," Pava took a step to the side. "Is he hungry now? Are we going to get food? We can fix this Commander, hold on."

Poe gritted his teeth, glaring between the two of them. "I’m not that bad," he repeated.

Pava gave him a sympathetic look. "No caf and no food? Dameron, we’re all that bad."

Grunting, Poe undid his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up past his elbows as he shouldered past them. "Insubordination," he muttered but neither of them seemed to pay any mind. They had gotten into a discussion about what food they missed most and Poe felt his own stomach grumble. Maybe stopping for breakfast first wasn’t the worst idea. Fainting from hunger in front of the Droidsmith probably wasn’t going to make a great second impression - and considering how… mediocre the first one had gone he was really hoping to be charming this time around.

By the time he was done eating and had gone through his morning briefing with the Squadron Poe was sweating. The humidity on this part of Ajan Kloss was never something to be sneered at, and today the air was still and hot to go with it. There was a storm coming, if not today then certainly tomorrow. He made a mental note to remind everyone to be sure their lightning rods were up. The last thing they needed was to lose a ship to electrical repairs.

Maybe he should go do that right now in fact. BB-8 could wait a bit, there was no need to… Poe shook his head, squaring his shoulders. The fact that there was finally someone on base who he was both interested in and could in good conscience pursue was secondary to the fact that he needed to get his astromech back. Flying yesterday with R2-D2 had been fine, but it wasn’t the same as having his little buddy onboard.

That settled, Poe strode confidently between the trees towards the Mu shuttle. The Droidsmith was in the front portion of her workshop today, her back to him, sitting at one of the tables and working on the R4 unit.

He coughed, not wanting to scare her. After a moment, he coughed again, louder.

Still no response.

He was getting ready to cough a third time when the little translator droid rolled out from under her stool. "Hi hi," it said, tilting up to look at him.

"Hi K-0," he greeted it. "Can you tell…" Shit. He’d forgotten to get her name. He could feel his eyes bugging out as he struggled to finish the sentence. "Her that I’m here for BB-8?"

K-0 flashed a red light at him. "No. Go. No. Not here."

Poe dropped to one knee, propping an arm on it as he tried to meet K-0 at its level. "What do you mean not here?"

"Bad droid," K-0 said fiercely. "Go. No come back. Bad."

"K-0-" Poe started but the droid raced off, running a circle around the Droidsmith’s stool and looking at him from behind her feet.

"No. Go. No."

The Droidsmith finally seemed to notice something was going on, pushing herself away from the table so the stool was leaning back on two legs. She looked down at the droid and then turned, raising an eyebrow at him.

Shit, he was still kneeling. He rose quickly, dusting the knees of his pants off and smiling at her as she settled the stool back onto all four legs. She was prettier than he remembered, if that was even possible.

"Hi," he said and K-0 beeped, echoing him.

She gave a dubious whistle and K-0 translated, "Hello." Then another whistle and a tsking sound with her tongue. "What you do K-0?"

Poe blinked, then looked down at the droid. "I didn’t do anything to K-0 - I was just looking for BB-8."

K-0 translated for him and Poe saw her eyebrows draw together and then she relaxed, rolling her eyes and looking down at the little droid. A series of whistles happened, interspersed with clicks of her tongue. He couldn’t understand her, but could pick up K-0’s side of the conversation in Binary.

"BB-8 is bad droid. Want replace K-0."

A low whistle from the Droidsmith and a fond smile.

"Bad droid. Bad man."

She snorted and looked over at him and he held his hands up in his most non-threatening pose. More whistling.

"Bad man keep bad droid."

Poe didn’t want to interrupt but did feel the need to defend his own honor. "Look, BB-8 might be my droid but he’s got a mind of his own. Whatever he did, don’t blame me. I’m just here to keep him from setting himself on fire."

K-0 translated his words into Binary as he talked and the Droidsmith winked at him. Maker, she winked at him and he felt heat flash along his body that had absolutely nothing to do with the burning Ajan Kloss sun. She whistled and K-0 turned to him with what Poe could only call smugness.

"Bad droid not here."

Poe blinked, "Yeah, you said that before. What do you mean he’s not here?"

The Droidsmith furrowed her brow before replying. "Rey take bad droid."

"Rey," Poe muttered, looking down at K-0 as it translated. "Rey took BB-8? Where?"

More whistling. "Rey say take you."

Poe grunted. "When?"

"Morning," K-0 replied, not needing to wait for the Droidsmith.

So Rey had been by this morning and left with BB-8. The Jedi often took BB-8 out with her when she was training. It just meant… Poe had spent the night before thinking of several topics for conversation that he could have with the Droidsmith today. But they all had kind of relied on having BB-8 there as he was the focus of most of them.

"Oh, okay," he fumbled, trying to think of something else to say. This was harder than he’d thought it would be. The language barrier, coupled with only getting garbled sentences back from K-0 made conversing difficult.

"Need more bad man?" K-0 asked after a gentle prompt from the Droidsmith. Those deep brown eyes were on him and he swallowed, gaze dropping to her pursed lips before snapping back to more appropriate locations. Poe looked at her workbench, at the pieces of droid strewn across it. She obviously had work to get back to.

"No, no," he backed away, tripping slightly when the workshop ground covering gave way to dirt. "I’ll just…"

He wouldn’t say he ran away. But he did walk quickly. If someone wanted to be very particular perhaps he jogged. But he definitely didn’t run - Poe Dameron didn’t run from things.

After a minute of walking quickly he slowed, then stopped. Raising a hand he rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. That had… that had not gone well. Maker had it really been that long since he had flirted with purpose and not just for the sake of flirting? Long enough that he was a bumbling mess about it?

It was the translation problem. That was it. Nothing to do with him. If she understood Basic or he understood… whatever it was that she was speaking… this would all be going a lot smoother. Maybe he could bring Threepio next time. While the protocol droid could be annoying, he’d at least translate full sentences without color commentary - something K-0 did not seem to be capable of.

Yeah, that was it. He’d bring Threepio by next time. Then they could have a nice conversation. Just him, Threepio and….

Well shit. He still hadn’t gotten her name.

Chpt 4

#in our own image #poe dameron #poe dameron x ofc #star wars #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #writing

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hopeaterart · 3 years

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PMTOK HORROR AU: INTRO

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO! Nearly four thousand words! (I’m trying to get back into writing, so if you guys want to see another part of the games translated into the Horror AU, send me an ask!)

The circle was completed.

The Craftsman took a deep breath, raising up and putting the vial of Blue Paint on his nightstand. The blue lines were glowing slightly on his floor, the circle just big enough for one person.

Good enough for him, it was an emergency anyway. The Sailor was already too late by a few days. He walked to it’s middle, bit his thumb, and let the blood drip upon the lines. They glowed brighter. “Flipflopside.” He muttered, and his world was engulfed in blue.

When colors came back to him, he was at the gate of the town. He entered town, and sighed as he recognized the decorations all around. Had circumstances been better, this festival would’ve been Olly’s first exposure to the outside world.

But Olly having disappeared a week ago, along with some very important supplies, was the reason the Craftsman had scrambled to gather and create the necessary blue paint to teleport.

He stopped at the town square. Where... was everyone? He frowned at all the decorations strewn around. It was like an hurricane had gone through town. He groaned in exasperation, before continuing his way toward the Lady’s Castle. If the town was having problems, then she would be too busy to offer help with finding his son.

He... honestly doubted anyone would’ve been generous enough to help in the first place, which is why he had prepared arguments about why his worry over his son going missing wasn’t just a parent thing (which it wasn’t, but it was the main reason, and they didn’t need to know that), but rumors had it that the current human lord- or in this case, lady- was a generous and kind one.

Yeah, if she was anything like her uncle, then he wasn’t holding onto hope.

He finally arrived to it’s front door, knocking once. He was expecting to have to knock more, and then for someone to come open the door. Instead, the door grinded open, having obviously been left as such. He hummed in concern, looking around, before entering, on-guard.

And just as he entered, the door slammed behind him, making him jump. He hurriedly turned back toward it, trying to open it again in vain. Door locked. He groaned in exasperation. He was getting rusty.

He slowly walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing around him as he looked around. The place was strangely... dark and silent. For some reason, he felt like he was the only one there. He reached the end of the corridor, opening another door (this one properly closed, but not locked) and arrived at what he could only assume was the lobby.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and out came the Lady. Long blonde hair, dark skin, and pink eyes... yep, no doubt, it was her, even if there was something... off about her that he wasn’t sure he could place. He had never formally met her, after all.

“How good... to see you...” She said in a discordant voice, and that immediately squashed any doubts the Craftsman had about this being her normal self. There was, at least, hypnosis involved.

“Answer me this... shouldn’t this miserable kingdom be unfolded... and be refolded unto glory?...” He shook his head, a hand reaching into his apron to get his paper scoring tool, the sharper end gleaming like a shiv. Better safe then sorry.

“And what of those... humans?” The venom dripping from her voice surprised him, even if he wasn’t a fan of other humans himself. “Shouldn’t they be silenced forever?” Oh, he didn’t like were this was going. Whoever was pulling the strings on her, they were the kind of scum that would make even the former Count recoil in horror.

“... I see... Last question.” She started as he grind his teeth together. “Will you crease yourself and be reborn, like me-”

“Lady of humans,” He started as he took a step forward. She didn’t react at that, freezing and keeping lifeless pink eyes on him. “You’re not in your right mind right now. Please, let me try to undo whatever magic is making you act like this-”

“Wrong answer.” She started, and the Craftsman realized he had made a mistake. “Right answer. It matters not.” She said, tilting her head in a stilted manner that exposed her shoulder and the thick silver lines on it. No doubt, powerful binding magic was at work. “Your replies are all paper thin.”

The floor suddenly opened under him, a discordant goodbye accompanying the fall. And then his world was wrapped in pain and darkness.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a cold ground, and five faces -or at least what he assumed where faces, what’s with the loss of his glasses- were looking down on him. “Oh, he’s waking up, he’s waking up!” One of them said, making the four others back up as he sat up.

He blinked, blurry. “Have any of you seen my glasses?” He asked. “They’re round with black frames. Their lenses are thick, and they have a retainer with purple and yellow beads.” The retainer was especially important to him, a reminder of the only relationship he remembered fondly. “If any of you are well-versed in magic, they’re also imbued with some pretty powerful protection spells.”

“Is that why they didn’t break?” Someone asked, handing him an object that shone under the dingy dungeons light.

He nodded, taking them in hand on pushing them up his nose. “Yes, thank you.” He then blinked as he regained vision, and looked around. All of those people... “You’re all monsters?”

One of them flinched at that, while another took a defensive stance. “Is that a problem, old man?”

“No, of course not.” He answered, bringing his knees to his chest. “If anything, I sympathize more with monsters than humans. We’re terrible.”

One of the monsters, who looked pretty young, came nearer. “So you don’t hate us?”

The Craftsman chuckled, patting the little plant monster’s head. “When you get my age, you don’t have much energy left for hating everything in sight. So I keep it for people who are truly deserving.” Like the chucklefuck who broke into his home, kidnapped Olly, stole most of his magical supplies and half of his Origami ones.

Suddenly, the door opened. More monsters, but those ones moving just as stiffly as the Lady earlier, entered. “Come with us...” The one standing at the front, who wore a ancient demon mask, ordered. The Craftsman got up, groaning as some of his bones popped, as everyone exited the room. He was about to follow them, when the masked monster held a hand up. Restrained fury was radiating off of the monster. “Not you.”

And just like that, he was alone again. He sighed, sitting down on the ground. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? The wall over there seemed pretty brittle...

He got up the inspect it, gently dragging his palm across it. Hello? A little voice suddenly asked, making him jump back in surprise. Oh no, please don’t leave! It said again. Was it coming... from the wall?

He caressed the wall again, frowning. “Are you... trapped inside?” He asked, feeling dimensional magic weaved into the wall.

Oh, yes I am! The voice of the young girl started again. I’m in a very strange place, like I’m trapped in-between dimensions!

“You will be delighted to hear to your situation is nowhere that severe, then.” He snarked. “You’re merely the victim of a dimensional spell. Nothing that can’t be broken.”

Really!? The voice exclaimed, it’s (her?) happiness evident. I think there’s some Paint nearby, could you use it to draw a magic circle? I can use my own magic for the rest. He hummed non-committedly as he got up, heading for the boxes pilled in a corner.

After a strong enough push, they toppled, their content spilling. Mostly empty vials of Paint, beside one that seemed to hold enough for one circle. But more importantly, a crack in the wall that was big enough for him to slip through if he tried was there. But just as he was about to leave, the little voice made itself known again. You... you’re not leaving, are you? She asked in a tearful tone.

He stayed frozen for a moment, before groaning in exasperation and turning back toward the wall. He quickly made his way there, emptying the vial over his fingers and drawing a circle around himself. It then started glowing a golden color, the image of a hand appearing within it. “Shapeshifting magic, uh?” He picked at the wound on his finger, opening it again and letting blood drip once more.

The Craftsman watched, bewildered, as his arms flattened and folded like accordions. He then gathered himself, and ripped the wall away, shaking his arm back to normal as whoever was trapped in the wall detached herself. “Whoo! I’m finally free from the wall!” She exclaimed cheerfully as the Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief. Blonde hair, golden hair, the hat with two points... and those eyes... “Hi, my name’s Olivia! You-”

“I know who you are, girl.” The Craftsman interrupted, bringing a hand up. “I’m the one who designed you.” That seemed to shock her, her hat flying of her head as her eyes sifted sizes.

“What!?”

“And I must admit, whoever folded you did an excellent job. Almost makes me jealous.” He wasn’t jealous, but fucking furious, but not at her, and that wasn’t important right now.

“But- you- I-”

“Look, for now, let’s focus on getting out of here before those guys come back, alright?” He proposed, grabbing Olivia’s small hand and squeezing them gently. She nodded, an adorably determined pout on her face as they went through the secret passage. “Stay behind me, don’t make a noise, and above all else, do not tell anyone your name, got it?”

Olivia nodded, following the Craftsman as they slipped through the crack. They quickly walked out of the cell, both of their eyes shifting around to make sure no one was coming. The corridor seemed closed off, magic keeping the dungeon isolated from the rest of the castle.

“Unhand me!” As they heard a voice come from the other room, they quickly hid amongst the boxes near said room. The Craftsman flushed himself against the wall near a small crack, chuckling to himself as Olivia imitated him, before peering inside

The sight of the notorious Count folded into what was basically a wet floor sign would’ve made the Craftsman laugh if it wasn’t for the implications behind the type of magic needed to restrain him. There was also the fact that he was being held up by multiple clothespin, and the shadows. Two of the deformed monsters were holding up another above their head, the creature obviously struggling.

And then it stopped moving, almost flattened as it was folded, powerful magic shifting and contorting it’s body. And then it was brought to a truly humongous shadow, a beast that opened it’s mouth with a mechanical sound. The outline of two sharp fangs was visible as the poor soul was placed within it’s mouth. And then...

KA-CHICK

The Craftsman looked away just as the beast closed it’s mouth, a metallic sound similar to the one of a stapler stapling sounding out. Well, at least he knew where that binding magic came from now, and where one of his supplies went. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to enchant a stapler!?

Poor Olivia was shivering in fear next to him, and he offered her a hand to hold just as the door opened. A horde of monsters, the last one being the demon-mask wearing one, got out. “Alright.” He started. “That was the last of them. Now, there’s only that old bastard left...”

As they left the corridor to go “fetch” him, he quickly made his way inside the room, relieved to find the door unlocked with Olivia still holding his hand. He made his way to the folded up Count, who had a miserable expression on his face. “Sir?” He asked.

The Count opened his red eyes. “Oh, a human!” He exclaimed, a surprised lilt to his voice. “My apologies, with all the chaos happening around here, I forgot that my beloved’s castle was on human grounds.”

“Your beloved’s castle is the middle of Flipflopside.” The Craftsman remarked with a raised eyebrow as he neared, taking the clothespins off. “If she wanted to live amongst humans, this wouldn’t be the place.”

“Ah, touché...” The Count commented as he fell to the ground, quickly figuring out a way to move. He then turned toward Olivia with squinted, and she squeaked. “And this young lady would be...?”

“My daughter.” The Craftsman hissed, not missing the sudden animosity in the Count’s tone.

To his credit, the Count immediately backed off. “... My apologies. Now, I do believe there’s another exit here,” he started, turning toward the other end of the room “but it’s hidden by an illusion spell. I would dispel it myself, but...” He shuffled a bit.

“I’m on it!” Olivia cheerfully declared, floating up to the wall and gently caressing it. Immediately, the surface fell away into Paint particles (which the Count was quick to waddle to and absorb, no doubt he wanted to collect enough magic to try and break out of his binds) as the young girl turned toward the two men.

The Craftsman nodded in approval as Count congratulated her, waddling up to her. “Incredible job, miss! Now, we can get out!” Olivia beamed, bouncing up and down in the air to a rhythm only she could hear as they made their way to a spiral staircase.

Just before they started climbing, the folded monster turned toward the Craftsman. The older man frowned. “What?”

“You have a very talented daughter.” The Count answered him as he started making his way up the stairs as fast as his body let him. The Craftsman smiled to himself.

“I know.” He started making his way up the stairs, Olivia’s hand back in his, when he noticed that she seemed unfocused. He stopped. “Is there a problem, girl?” He asked, turning toward her.

The younger girl looked up at .him, smiling. “I’m your daughter?”

A few seconds, then a shrug. “If you want to be,” He wasn’t the one who had folded her, but he was the one who had made the initial plan and cut out a piece of his soul for her, and he couldn’t be much worse than Olly’s kidnapper.

They finally made it back outside, the Craftsman shielding his eyes from the sudden light. They walked along the long balcony for a bit, until another door opened. Out walked the monster from earlier, the one with the demon mask, and the Lady. He heard the Count gasp behind him.

“Why are you still so... flat?” The brainwashed woman asked him. “Why won’t you join me in folded glory...” She weakly reached her hands out to them. “Come, we can reshape you...” The fear shining through her eyes was yelling at them to run, run as far as you can, and never turn back.

The Craftsman was very tempted to follow that message, ready to grab Olivia and jump over the balcony fence, before the masked monster opened their mouth. “Patience, Lady. This will do just fine. So...” They turned toward the Craftsman. “Why did you come to this castle, Craftsman?”

His eyes narrowed, pulling the paper scorer out again. “Someone stole what’s mine. I came here to ask help to get it back.” And it seems I’ve found my thief.

The masked monster made a sneering sound. “Is that how you see your son? A mere possession?”

“Wha- don’t talk about what you don’t know!” The Craftsman snapped, hand tightening around the tool in his hand.

“... Last chance, Craftsman.” The monster started. “Volunteer yourself to my cause, and let me fold you into something greater. Simple offer. Yes, or no.” The only thing that stopped the old man from going ‘go fuck yourself’ was Olivia’s presence. He instead shook his head. “Of course, I didn’t expect any less. And I wouldn’t have it any other way...” The monster snapped his fingers.

Another mind-controlled monster came into view. The Craftsman recognized him as one of the monsters from earlier. The Count snarled behind him, a surge of powerful magic catching him off-guard. “What have you done to my people!?”

“Folding them to my will. Look at your precious Lady.” The monster started, gesturing to her. “She’s better this way, don’t you think.” The only answer was a hiss. “Now...” The mask-wearing monster turned back toward the Craftsman, one violet eye glowing. “Prepare to be Folded!”

The monster jumped the Craftsman, hissing and snarling. Caught off-guard, he went down like a sack of potato, falling on his back and barely keeping the monster off-of him. He dropped the scorer, weakly moving his legs as his arms came up to hold the monster’s claws away from him. Olivia gasped in horror. “Dad!”

“Wait, miss.” The Count started as he watched the Craftsman successfully move one of his hand to the monster’s throat. “I do believe that your father as the situation in hand.”

The Craftsman continued to hold the monster away from him, his hand tightening around his throat, before grabbing the paper scorer and stabbing the monster through his eye. Dark purple blood stained his hand as a pained noise came out of the monster, the scorer getting wringed out.

The monster was then knee-d into the stomach, the Craftsman successfully throwing the monster off of him and over the fence. He got back up, groaning and doing his best to ignore Olivia’s horrified look. “Is that all you got?” He asked the masked monster, who sighed.

“Of course, how stupid of me. You did go by Mercenary when you were younger.” The masked monster noted as he started floating ominously. “I suppose there’s no point in maintaining this charade any longer...”

The monster shook, his arms raising in the air, before suddenly flattening and unfolding. Colors faded away as the illusion spell was uncast, revealing violets and yellows as a little boy wearing a crown revealed himself. The Craftsman’s eyes widened in disbelief, the Count made a noise of confusion, and Olivia gasped. “BROTHER!”

No... no, no, no, NO! It couldn’t be... “Wh- what are you doing here?” The Craftsman asked, putting his scorer back in his apron as Olivia started shaking.

“Please, brother...” She sobbed. “How many times have I told you you needed to stop? Please! You can’t do this!”

The boy simply sighed. “Why couldn’t the Craftsman have simply left you in that wall where I put you... Sister, I am afraid that if you stand in the way of my ambition, we will not be able to share my glory as family.”

“Brother-”

“I am not your brother anymore.” He stated, flipping his hair. “I am KING OLLY!” He then floated up and out of reach, floating in the sky as he cast a disdainful look to Flipflopside. “By the time I’m done, all those miserable humans will be folded... and those flimsy monster subjects shall be reborn as Folded Soldiers, serving me!” He then turned his look upon the Craftsman and Olivia. “And I shall fold, crease and bend this world to my whim... the birth of an Origami Kingdom!”

Olly snapped his fingers, a bright violet light emanating from his hand. It took a moment for the Craftsman to realize that was a signal, but he quickly dragged Olivia to the floor when he realized. And just in time too, as something yellow and charged with magic razed right past where his head used to be a second ago.

He quickly got up, scanning his surroundings as Olivia held onto him for dear life, the Count screeching right behind him. Streams of binding magic surrounded them, all controlled by Olly, all coming from different directions. “Follow me, you two!” The Count yelled over the rush of magic, hopping on the fence and then on a lower part of the roof. The Craftsman quickly followed him, hand tight around Olivia’s.

“GRA-BLAGH!” The Craftsman turned toward the voice, confused as he saw what was possibly one of the ugliest man he’s ever seen come to them at high speed in a rocket-propelled hot-hair balloon. The Count quickly jumped in, followed by the Craftsman and Olivia. “A’m ‘ere, Count!”

“Thank you, Warrior.” The Count started, smiling for what was probably the first time today. The Craftsman decided to give them as much privacy as he could as he turned toward the Lady’s castle.

There was five streams of magic in total. The red one came from the North, the blue one East, the yellow one South, and the purple one West. As for the green one, it seemed to come from the clouds. They seemed to take material form as they tightened over the castle, similar to shiny ribbons.

To his horror, the Castle was then ripped right off of the ground, the stone floors breaking away with it as it was lifted in the hair and above them. He blankly registered something lilac and yellow falling off of the castle as the other man with them (the Warrior, he thinks?) and the Count shrieked.

He sat on the floor, Olivia joining him and hugging him close as the Warrior yelled something incomprehensible. They then felt the machine machine shake. “What’s going on?” He asked the Count, who had slid next to them.

“They magic streams ur giein’ use some problems.” The Warrior answered for him. “Sae hing oan tiiiiIIAAAAAH!” The machine had collided with the red ribbon, making the Craftsman, Olivia and the Count fly out, with only the last one getting caught by the Warrior. He then tried to reach for the other two, but they were already too far away.

And as they fell, the Craftsman could only look as the ribbons carried the castle away. He closed his eyes as he saw it being placed upon the top of the dormant Sulfur Crater, a single thought circling in his head.

What the fuck did I get myself into this time!?

#writing #My writing #pmtok #pmtok horror au #pmtok olivia #king olly #origami craftsman #count bleck #lady timpani #paper mario #Paper Mario The Origami King #tw violence #tw blood #tw death

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