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yellowbunnydreams · 2 months

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Do you need some Vitamin D? (Incubus! William x Oblivious! F! Reader) [Part 1]

~Hi lovelies, I'm aware I have been a shitty author and disappeared for a long time, but I have been trying to get caught up with real life and honestly kinda hyper-fixated on minecraft for a week but I'm determined to write! I want to give you all the lovely things so here is an extremely belated Valentines Day fic about monstrous William Afton~

~Happy Valentines, Galentines, Pal-entines and fork-tines to you all! Today we're doing something a little bit silly and something very sweet in honour of the romantic day....A silly fic of monster William x oblivious reader, because let's face it, we all have at least one moment where flirting has gone straight over our heads and we missed the boat.~

@ruh--roh-raggy

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Fluff, age gap (Reader 20's - William Afton 40's(?)), teratophilia, meet-cute, punny pick-up lines, scenes of working out, minor porn-logic, ditzy! reader, could be classed as bimbo! reader?, size-difference, flirting, monster-lover, sexual innuendos, Monster! AU

William Afton ran his tongue over his teeth as he lost himself in thought once again. His silvery eyes watching you behind gold-framed aviators as you chatted with your co-workers, the blaring and beeping arcade lights casting colours against your skin in a way that made the older man suck a breath in through his teeth and click his tongue disapprovingly at himself. William had excellent control over himself both professionally and personally, there were plenty of times where his nature wanted to take hold of the reigns and control his actions but he rarely let them.

You were his little indulgence.

As the type of creature he was, it was hard to control obsessions and indulgences. Where did the lines cross? It had been years since he last let himself slip over the line and it had resulted in some unwanted agreements and commitments, a fact he was constantly reminded of whenever he received a letter from his thankfully former wife demanding reconciliation. She never knew the real him though, and William couldn't ever remember a person beside his best friend and his best friend's wife that had ever seen the real him. Just as he had seen the real them.

But as you turned and glanced at the older man leaning in the doorway into the 'employees only' corridor and gave him a little bright smile like always, he couldn't help his usually stern expression quirking at the corner of his mouth to return the smile slightly. You had that affect on the taller man, even if you were unaware of it or his perhaps less than selfless intentions behind it all.

You'd been working at Freddy Fazbear's pizza for just over two months, and in that time you'd made plenty of friends amongst the various members of staff. The cooks knew your break order and always happened to have an 'accidental' order of your favourite cheesy garlic sticks when you'd had a tough shift, people knew that they could rely on you to cover shifts when sick or that you actually knew where the first aid box was.

In general, people liked you, even if you were keenly aware of your one persistent flaw. You were...naïve, at times, and sometimes jokes and stories flew over your head whilst talking with other staff members. And sure, sometimes you'd had your female co-workers come up to you after some guy had talked to you and walked away looking dejected, only to be told they were flirting with you. But you weren't looking to change those things about yourself necessarily, and nobody ever said it was a bad thing that perhaps somebody who was interested in you would have to try a little harder to grab your attention.

"Afton's staring at you again." Your co-worker tutted, crossing her arms and making you look over towards him despite her hissed protests. Spotting the taller man with greying temples and those thin gold aviators that gave him a much more sophisticated look despite his yellow pin-stripe shirt that was a little baggy on his seemingly broad body. Giving him a friendly smile as he was indeed looking your way, seeing his usual frown twitch slightly as he nodded at you and shoved off from the wall, beginning to wander back into the halls of the pizzeria. "He's such a creep."

"He's not! Mr. Afton's lovely, maybe he's just shy?" You suggested, making the woman in front of you raise her eyebrow sceptically.

"Maybe if he was in high-school, he's a grown ass man, he should say something to you if he wants to say it!"

"Well, he and Mr. Emily do like to stand around and make sure everything is running smoothly. He's probably staring cause we're standing around." Shrugging your shoulders as your colleague shook her head and threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"He's been staring at you for like....a month now? Anybody would think you were being sized up to be eaten or something. Or maybe he wants to fuck you." Wriggling her eyebrows suggestively, you smacked her arm and felt your cheeks heating up as you shook your head.

"Don't be silly! Or rude! Mr. Afton wouldn't think like that towards any of us, we're part of the Fazbear family!"

The young woman looked over at a couple of their co-workers sneaking kisses in the pass, with copious amounts of tongue like teenagers who had just discovered the concept of french-kiss and were delighted with the prospect. Shaking her own head as you wandered off to continue working, not wanting to disappoint your bosses.

"Yeah, perhaps a little more 'incestuous' than you realise though." Muttering under her breath as she trailed behind you, helping with the cleaning chores you both had to complete before the next dinner rush.

Meanwhile, William made his way into the offices at the back and made the man already inside jump slightly at his sudden entrance. His dark, short curls greying slightly and wearing an obnoxiously yellow shirt and brown slacks that made William's stomach turn slightly at how bright his friend was. Henry smiled at him from his desk and turned back to looking at the papers on his desk, allowing William to squeeze past and slip into his desk in the back.

The wooden top was cluttered with sheets of paper in neat stacks and animatronic parts in various spread states of disarray. Afton despised paperwork being out of place, but something that he deemed creative like his animatronics were fine to be in various messy states, art to him was supposed to be chaotic and messy. But his thoughts were distracted by that little smile you'd given him, running his thumb over his index nail repeatedly as he stared at his desk.

Henry noticed his silence and turned around in the swivel chair, facing his friend with a curiously raised eyebrow before scooting closer and forcing William to look up at the sound. Frown on his face as Henry broke out into a grin.

"You went out to look at that employee again didn't you?" Henry teased, making the taller man groan and rub his face under his glasses, jostling them from the comfortable position they had been in and forcing him to adjust them before he glared at Henry.

"None of your fuckin' business."

"Oh you did! And it our business! Do you think you might...pursue?" He asked, leaning on the edge of William's desk, making the other man sigh and shrug his broad shoulders as he averted his eyes back onto the projects on his desk.

"Been a while since I...Think I'm just an old bastard at this point." A slight smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Henry rolling his eyes, a huffing, snorting sound that William recognised as a more annoyed sound.

"Where did all your bravado go? Are you sure your previous wasn't a succubus or something? Sucked all the life out of you."

"Wouldn't that be fucking ironic. Must've been a vampire, drained me dry and not in the nice way either." Henry pulled a face and leaned over to smack William on the shoulder, the firm clap reminding William how strong Henry was despite his more slender frame and growing stomach from his wife's cooking.

Both men sat there for a moment before Henry sighed, running his fingers through his curls and shaking his head to dislodge the soft round ears from ontop of his head. Feeling his face getting slightly more full as his teeth pulled at his gums uncomfortably, blinking up at William who simply blinked back.

"Nearly new moon huh?"

"Yeah, it fucking sucks that I can't really leave the office or the house in case, but that's what I have my best friend and my wife for, huh?"

"Don't let your wife figure out they're separate titles." William chuckled, watching as Henry stretched his jaw and pawed at his face as he tried to encourage his more ursine features back into place.

"No way, I value my life and she will absolutely hand me my ass in silver bullets." Henry laughed and shook his head, looking back onto his own desk and spotting the poster for an upcoming event that made his face light up in an even brighter smile as he turned back to William. "You know what you should do?"

"What?"

"Ask her to the staff Valentine's staff-do!"

"Absolutely fucking not!"

"Come on, why?" He whined and William huffed, curling his lip up to reveal teeth a little too sharp to be human before he cleared his throat and cracked his neck, giving Henry a much more normal smile afterwards.

"It's so stupid, and plus, I need to refresh my skills, that takes time you know."

"Just go with what you've got! In fact, start today! Go out there and get flirting! If you don't have a date to that staff-do, I swear to god William, I'll bite you."

"Can't pass on the ursanthropy to me, Henry. But the thought of you biting me in any form is unpleasant." William sighed and stood up from his desk, watching Henry scooting back to his desk and rolling his eyes as he sighed.

Afton hated things like Valentine's Day, thought about all the overpriced flowers and chocolates that were out and about and the tacky foil decorations that would be used once and then ripped down within a day and never mentioned again. But Henry, annoyingly, was right about the fact that it was an opportune time to ask you out and flex his fingers with the charm a little.

It didn't take him long to find you, carrying piles of flat pizza boxes to make-up for takeout and humming slightly as you headed down the winding corridor, peeking over the top of the stack to see where you were going before a pair of hands reached out and took some of the boxes on the top.

"Let me get some of that for you, sweetheart." He chuckled, easily holding the boxes in his large hands and making you smile appreciatively, adjusting your grip on your own stack and feeling better that you could see where you were going and wouldn't run into anybody.

"Thanks Mr.Afton! I hope this isn't too much trouble." Watching as William shrugged and chewed over his lip, glancing over you briefly.

"It's no trouble, hey! Do you like raisins?" He asked suddenly, making you pause as you mulled over the question.

"I mean...I'm not keen?"

"Then how about a date?" William grinned from ear to ear, watching your expression gleefully as you blinked up at him.

"I mean..I might like them? Haven't tried raisins in years, I might have to try them again. Thanks for helping Mr. Afton!" You smiled, wandering through the corridor and towards the front of the restaurant once again, not aware of the flabbergasted look on her boss' face as he stared after you.

You weren't sure what had changed the next day when you came in for your shift, early as always and humming to yourself when you cleaned up. Henry Emily and William Afton came in through the front door, silence between them as you noticed that Henry had a pair of dark sunglasses on despite the early morning light and William had on a tight black t-shirt and jeans, looking more like a biker with a bit of a dad-bod going on. Blinking in surprise as neither of them were really dressed in the professional attire you were used to them being in.

"Good morning Mr. Emily, Mr. Afton!" You called out, causing both men to stop and turn their attention towards you. Afton looking at you with that stern expression he always had whilst Henry attempted a smile, although it fell quickly and settled back into a slightly pained look, causing your brow to furrow with concern.

"Ah, morning," your name was added quietly onto the end, Henry reaching up and rubbing his hand over his face. Secretly checking himself for any subtle transformations, William glancing at him from the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to you. "How goes set-up?"

"Well Mr. Emily, although...are you okay? You look a little sick and tired today. Maybe you should be at home?" Voice laden with concern and head tilted slightly as you watched Henry, managing to miss William's slight smile at your concern for his friend. Henry shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders lightly.

"Ah, yeah just not been sleeping well. Not sweet enough dreams perhaps." Trying to put some humour back into his voice as William lit up and decided to try out another technique on you, feeling his face settling into a confident smirk once more as he looked you over. Somehow you made even the uniform look cute.

"Not like you, hey sweetheart? You're sweet and a dream." You turned to look at him as the much taller man spoke, the same blank expression on your face for a moment before you laughed and shook your head shyly, averting your gaze from his silvery eyes. Wondering if you had ever been so close to him, other than when he picked up the pizza boxes for you.

"You're too nice Mr. Afton, I really just try to be myself." Shaking your head and not noticing as Henry scowled at William from the side, shaking his own head and rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. "Well, I better get back to work, please take care of yourself today Mr. Emily, and please look after him Mr. Afton." Giving each of the older men a smile before turning back to your duties and allowing them to move on. Still curious as to why they were dressed less formally.

Henry all but grabbed William and dragged the taller man into the back areas and to their cramped little office. Both men staring down as Henry took off his sunglasses and revealed his more yellowish green eyes, the pupils blown out as he struggled to keep himself full in check as the new moon was only a day away. Holding onto his friend's thick arms for a moment before crossing his against his chest, foot tapping impatiently as he had to look slightly up to see William's face.

"What the actual fuck was that?"

"What was what, Henry?" William asked coyly, smirking as the werebear before him huffed and growled in annoyance. Narrowing his eyes as Henry gestured back out towards the main floor where you were.

"THAT! Was that you flirting?"

"Yeah? Girls love that shit, just cause you get that whole 'mate' thing doesn't mean everybody does buddy." William rolled his eyes and crossed his own thicker arms across his broad chest, staring down at the smaller man as he shook his head. Henry running his fingers through his dark curls for a moment as an exasperated sigh escaped him.

"When did girls like that, the eighteen-hundreds?"

"Watch it, and it was the eighties as you well know."

"Either way, you're an old bastard."

"Shut the fuck up, Emily." William growled, his own teeth changing slightly as his lip curled and revealed sharper canines than before. His own monstrous nature leaking through his carefully held together image before Henry blinked and he was back to normal.

Both men headed off into the offices, Henry still shaking his head and glancing at William with a sense of disbelief. His friend was loosing his touch and honestly, he wasn't sure what he could do to rectify the situation without being blunt and to the point which would entirely ruin William's whole thing.

"You're possibly the world's worst incubus, William Afton." Henry muttered under his breath, making William snort and smirk in return as the office door opened and he allowed his features to shift slightly. Sharp teeth, flatter more squashed nose and nails sharper as greyish brown fur started to creep down the back of his neck and onto his forehead, mixing into where his salt and pepper hair normally was neatly swiped back.

"Says you, I'm just getting started." His features turning back to normal as he shook his head. Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as the monster once against became the man.

Your phone buzzed on the bedspread as you sat eating cereal in bed and watching some true-crime programme that had come on when you turned on the TV. Almost missing the soft sound before you reached for it and tapped the screen with your thumb to light it up, pausing as you saw it was a text notification and heart pounding slightly as you saw the name attached to it.

William Afton.

Tapping it open, you wondered if perhaps he was asking you to cover the shift the next day, since you had a couple of days off. Although it was usually Henry who reached out and he never texted, always phoned since it was 'more professional'. He had looked sick earlier, so it wasn't out of the realms of possibility that he was handing over the responsibility to William to try and limit how much stuff Henry himself had to do. You paused as the text loaded after a moment and your eyes instantly landed on a photo of William.

It took you a moment to register. But it looked like it had been taken from around waist height and pointed up his body, his greying hair slicked back and wet like he'd just gotten out of the shower, those gold wire aviators catching the light but still able to see his grey eyes and his greying beard. His broad chest was covered in a tight purple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the first three buttons undone and letting you see a touch of his dark chest hair that you somehow never realised you knew would be there.

Confused, you looked at the text that came afterwards, your eyes straying back up to the picture occasionally as you tried to figure out what on earth was going on.

'What do you think to the new shirt?' Still confused, you balanced the bowl of cereal on your lap before texting back, thinking on what to reply as you scanned the picture one more time before your fingers moved across the keyboard.

'It's a nice colour on you Mr. Afton. Did you mean to send this to me though?' Turning back to eating cereal and watching the TV for only a moment before your phone buzzed again and you looked at his name popping up on the screen once more, tapping on it to read as you chewed over your next mouthful.

'Shit, really sorry, this was meant for Henry. Thanks for your feedback though.' You tried for a moment to think how your name might end up next to Henry Emily's in his contacts but didn't think too hard about it, popping another spoonful into your mouth before texting back, wanting to reassure the older man that it was a simple mistake.

'It's no problem, I'm not doing anything at the moment anyway. Was just surprised that you texted me.'

A few minutes passed before your phone vibrated again, and you were welcome to the distraction since the programme had become kind of boring and predictable, it was clear who was the murderer and anything was better than the cliche music and dramatic cuts on the screen.

'Not doing anything? A young lady like you should be out and about! I'm curious as to what type of nothing you're up to now though.' The text made you laugh and shake your head, chuckling as you texted back quickly. You weren't sure what it was about the text exchange with William Afton, but it was enjoyable and you couldn't help the involuntary scroll up in the chain of texts to look at the photo again whilst you waited for his reply after your own.

'Sat in bed, eating cereal and watching TV. Really nothing exciting Mr. Afton. I can imagine your evening is more exciting than mine.'

'Well that rather depends on your definition of exciting. What would you be up to if you didn't have the cereal?' A strange question, but you shrugged and replied in the only way that came to mind. Totally unaware that William Afton was across town and laid in his own bed as soon as you mentioned being in yours, a small smirk on his face with one hand tucked up behind his head as he thought it was genius to potentially lure you into a salacious conversation.

'Get up and get cereal :p'

Your reply left his blinking at his screen and he turned his head to look at the floor length mirror across the room, seeing his more monstrous face staring back at him. Soft bunny ears folded back across his head and covered in a fine layer of salt and pepper fur. His large figure spread out across the bed, his clawed fingers running over his head and flatter face, nose twitching as his eyes eyes stared back behind his glasses. The bedding up to his waist hiding most of his transformations, tucking his knees up and curling up his lip to reveal his sharp teeth as his foot stamped in annoyance against the mattress. Feeling the small vestigial wings against his broad back flutter once and curl slightly around his arms in a motion of self comfort. The lagomorphic incubus was beginning to doubt his own abilities and he didn't like that.

What was it about you that resisted him so easily? He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it might have something to do with the fact you had always seemed to have a few things...go over your head, to put it politely. Chewing on his lip as he looked at himself once again in the mirror before he closed his eyes and tapped his head back against the headboard, frustrated that it wasn't going exactly to plan.

Unaware of your boss' frustration, you gave up waiting for him to say something back, glancing at the clock and wondering if perhaps he had simply fallen asleep. But you had a small smile that he had talked to you for so long, and wondered if he had enjoyed the conversation too. Putting the dirty bowl on your nightstand to be cleaned up in the morning and sighing as you settled back into bed.

Scrolling back up, you couldn't help one last look at the picture he had sent, cheeks flushing with heat as you shook your head, tossing the device to one side as you rubbed your face. Wondering what on earth had gotten into you that you kept going back to look at your boss and admire the little features of his face.

#william afton #william afton x reader #springtrap #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #springtrap x reader #william afton smut #william afton x you #fnaf x reader #monster au #monster william afton #monster henry emily #incubus

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 1 year

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Tiny humans - Dr James Wilson x peds!reader

description: House gets to meet Wilson's new girlfriend for the first time when his case takes him into his worst nightmare...peds. House is in for a shock at the ball of sunshine who has his best friend on a string.

authors note: my first post for this series I want to do of oneshots and my first fanfic post on tumblr ever...enjoy!!! Btw i'm taking a lot of inspo from Arizona Robbins from Greys anatomy

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN FOR PEDS!READER - request here

House limped down the hallway followed by an exasperated Wilson who was concerned at his friends eager step, seeing as he was on his way to see a patient. How un-house-like.

"This is peds remember, these aren't normal patients. They don't lie, they don't have ulterior motives, they're just...kids." Wilson halted his friends shoulder and turned him towards his concerned face.

"So, wait until they've had a sip of beer before berating their existence?" House mockingly tilted his head in faux concern. Wilson's mouth opened but all that left was a sigh.

After confirming that his friend was no longer going to halt the inevitable, he continued on with a new fervour in his limp. But Wilson didn't stop there and sped to catch up with the surprising amount of ground his friend had covered.

"You see she loves these kids almost...almost like they're her own. She's smart and is excellent at what she does but she doesn't care about that." Wilson paused and looked back into his mind, picturing the moment he first saw her in a child's room, a plastic tiara on her head and an empty teacup perfectly clasped between her fingers.

"She cares about the kids."

"Wow. I'm touched." House grasps his chest and wipes away a non-existant tear. "Do you know how easy being a paediatrician is. They can't lie until they grow teeth and after that they're stupid enough to reveal to us when their parents lie. There's a reason it's 'daddy touches my special place' and not 'daddy gets aroused by children.'"

"That's it I'm making the rule. No pedaphile jokes."

"But the jokes literally in the name...peds"

"Who lets you around children?"

"Who lets me around people? Haha, I got you there!" He jabs a finger into Wilson's chest. Wilson rolls his eyes and holds out his arm to prevent his morose friend entering the land of happiness. Well as happy as a bunch of sick kids can be.

"Well let me appeal to your true nature." Wilson sighs. "I like this girl and she likes me. Please don't ruin it?"

"How could I say no to those puppy dog eyes. Fine! But only in the name of your libido, at least until I finish my soul-searching and realise my true calling is your bed."

Whilst House finishes his thought, they are spotted by a woman in pink scrubs, absent of any colour of coat. She briskly walks towards the two.

"Dr Wilson, Dr House. My name is..."

"I don't remember nurses names, it's nothing personal, I rarely remember anyones."

Wilson coughs and shoves his friends shoulder to direct him towards your burning gaze.

"As I was saying, my name is DOCTOR y/l/n. Pleasure to meet you."

Despite the gaze, her smile remains cheerful and she extends her hand for House to shake. Reluctantly, he eventually offers it and it is taken in a firm and bouncy handshake.

"James has told me so much about you, to be honest I'm surprised our paths have not crossed sooner. Regardless, today I am so happy to welcome you both to peds. The most magical place on earth."

Whilst listening to her, House took stock of the woman in front of him. Her pink scrubs seemed to be the dullest thing about her. Her hair was collected in a ponytail that swished its way down between her shoulder blades. Her pockets were lined with memories of her past. A pink glitter pen given to her from a girl who was continually brought in for asthma, a ball of yarn from a boy who had loved knitting, a yellow sticker saying great job, a blue glitter one saying 'you go girl'. There was a pencil with a yellow smiley face rubber and another that seemed to contain many colours. I guess that just made it all the more fun. House smirked when he saw a pocket protector. Not too dissimilar to the one that lined the pocket of the smitten brunette next to him.

"Gentlemen, this is peds. This is the place of the tiny humans. They like glitter, they play games, they see us as magicians. They believe we are the magical healers who can cure them. So that's how we present ourselves to them. The tiny humans may be tiny but they are strong. Stronger than most. Their bodies fight because they know they have so much life left to live and we try our hardest to give them as much life left as we possibly can."

As the girl speaks, absolutely in awe of her job and the lives it saves. She fails to notice the adoring gaze of the one she calls hers. The brunette looks to her as if she hung the stars and the moon and even though he could hear House's eyes rolling into the back of his skull, he couldn't bring himself to look or care. Not when she was in his line of sight.

"So you will not be stubborn, you will not be blunt or sarcastic. As far as I'm concerned, today you are the two newest editions to the circus. So play the part and follow my lead."

She picks up her files which were each coordinated by colour and glitter. House smirked at this. She turns to push open the door to the unit but falters.

"Also..."

She turns back to face the two men.

"The owners of the tiny humans can be quite volatile. You've been warned. Enjoy!" Her look of warning is quickly replaced by a mask of pure joy.

House softly giggles.

"I like her. Will we soon be hearing the pitter patter of tiny 'Wilson' humans?"

Wilson didn’t even hear his friends comment and instead chose to follow his beauty, like a moth to a flame.

House shrugs.

"Men, never thinking with the right head." As he eyes the glitter residue that adorns Wilson’s sleeve.

#james wilson x reader #dr james wilson x reader #house md #house x reader #james wilson #dr james wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #james wilson x peds!reader #dr james wilson x peds!reader

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amelie-isnt-french · 3 months

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I'll bite.

I need to know about the red string conspiracy doc.

Sounds very fun

I have been WAITING for this. Get ready for the combined brainrot of @alice-apparently and I, you poor soul. Now, listen up, 'cause we’ve got a labrynthine twisted task of a tale to tell, and if you don’t keep up, you might get lost :)

And obviously: spoilers for tmagp. don't keep reading if you're behind 🫵🏼

First things first: anyone currently descending into paranoia? we're already there, poster children of paranoia-land, that's us. May I present the title of the wonderful conspiracy doc -

There's also a TMA conspiracy doc Ali made, fully colour- episode- and entity-coordinated. It's like 24k words and not even fully done. don't worry about it.

Which is why we're going to be super normal and low-key about the Protocol red string doc right?

of course.

As you can see above, our collaboration relies on Ali's colour coding and her making nice, structured observations of possibly important things, while I provide the Latin and cheer her on. Balance is important in a marriage.

Also included in this all-round package: character info, quotes, etc.

I've since moved on from my "Gwen is evil" theory because I simply love socially awkward, abrasive characters who are good at their job a little too much (nervously shuffles Jonathan Sims, the Archivist, further behind my back). Still the hottest bitch at the OIAR, don't @ me.

Also also, in this house we love Alice Dyer and don't trust her any further than we can throw her. what is UP with all your comments Alice? What do you know???

Anyway.

But Ames, you say, didn't you promise quotes? I did, and I'll do you one better: tmagp quotes with additional obnoxious commentary from yours truly and Ali

If you'd like to see Ali lose her shit over the red canary implications (which I fully support), hop over to her tumblr @alice-apparently and give it a read. It's delightful.

Right. Moving on from the random screenshots. Basic outline of part one of the paranoia board is a section for every episode. Ali is listening to ep7 as I write this and having a great time (not), so there's not much in the ep7 section, except for this:

Thoughts and prayers, love, thoughts and prayers.

And FINALLY, my favourite section.

This is the speculation part, time line puzzle and colour coding reference, but my current favourite is this:

She's trying to reverse-engineer the case coding in tmagp, a noble cause. Godspeed, Ali, bc that is too many numbers for my silly little brain. I only excel at criticising stupid horror protagonists aka Personal Screening:

That's all for now.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, and to send you all off, one last silly comment from me to you and the universe:

Bye!

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #red string conspiracy doc #attention ali #first shift #personal screening #alice dyer #sam khalid #gwendolyn bouchard #colin becher #tma jmart #jonmartin #spoilers #tmagp spoilers

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vickyvicarious · 8 months

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van helsing character notes from today: he is typically "up to time" (punctual), and also always brings his bag with him now (ready for the worst)

"Let all be put down... exactly." OH GOD. here it comes.

I love the way Jack says "it was a lovely morning"; he's speaking with hindsight here, and his misery and resignation color all that came before. He sounds almost mournful as well as wistful when he describes the beautiful day, because he knows the contrast awaiting him inside.

Jack saying "She is always an early riser." with a audible side-eye is so funny. I don't think it's about what he's saying here, more the context of her seeing Lucy and not noticing her sleep isn't peaceful rest. And of course taking away the flowers. Or maybe it's even just that he wishes he didn't have to run into her first thing in the morning.

I LOVE the little, "mm?" interspersed throughout Mrs. Westenra's speech. Again, I feel like the voice acting paints such a good picture of her character, and especially here where she is seeking praise/showing off her self-satisfaction at "helping"

Speaking of. The little edge of rasp in Jack's delivery of "to which she answered:" just before Mrs. Westenra reveals what she has done. And his resigned tone on "asked the Professor." As he's narrating this dialogue he is restricted to just speech tags but his delivery makes his misery clear.

the music creeping in as Mrs. Westenra talks about the "horrible, strong-smelling flowers" building as you realize what she's done and what it must mean in time with van Helsing...!

Mrs. Westenra sounds so proud of herself. So oblivious and cheerful.

The little quiver in Jack's voice at "he actually smiled on her"

"Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down." Jack speaks this line softly, almost wonderingly. He has so much faith in van Helsing, and he's been using his mentor's confidence as a linchpin to keep his own composure; to see van Helsing break like this is terrifying to him I think. And he doesn't know what to do about it, can't say anything.

van Helsing's sobs and gasping breaths for control are BRUTAL. SO INCREDIBLE. god and his plea to god. AMAZING

and the music, almost gentle at first but more and more creepy and lingering/ominous as he goes along

the fierce determination as van Helsing insists they will keep fighting

"yet another operation of transfusion of blood." the way Jack says this line I think really brings out a sense of hopeless resignation. He sounds almost sickened at the last word. Everything seems to point to this being useless yet again, but obviously failing to try their utmost isn't even a consideration. He just is losing hope that it can be stopped.

"Again the operation; again the narcotic; again some return of colour to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep." THIS delivery is so excellent. The deep sigh, the resigned tone, the almost bored listing of what was once so agonizing an operation. The way he doesn't linger on Lucy's improvement at all, doesn't even linger on van Helsing's condition. Instead he just kind of sums up that it worked (for now), that van Helsing spoke to Mrs. Westenra, etc. etc.....

"After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal." He sounds almost amused, and so exhausted, so sad. She doesn't even know that she has nearly died for a third time. She doesn't know that, as far as he can tell, she will continue on just like this, on and on, nearly dying, barely saved, recovered and cheerful, and then death coming back again, and again, until eventually it cannot be denied any longer...

van Helsing broke down today, but Jack is the one who is most brutally disheartened. He's losing hope, he's becoming almost numb, he's doubting his own mind.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #jack seward #van helsing #mrs. westenra

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year

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What we know about the Season 2 episodes :)

Episode 1

there is a jaunty little mauve hat

ep1 ends on the 45th page of the script

Episode 2

this

contains the biblical minisode

David about his favourite moment from S2: It's a line said by a small child,and it's in Episode 2 about halfway through, and it's in a scene with my son.

Episode 3

there is a jaunty little brown hat

the NYCC clip is in the first few minutes of this episode

Episode 4

there is a whole slew of jaunty little hats of all kinds and colours

much of this episode is taken up by a minisode by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, it’s a story in London during the blitz, Andy Nyman called it a ‘very naughty minisode‘.

Episode 5

there is a fez-wearing moment, it is a fairly jaunty fez

there is extremely fancy little black hat tipped with what looks like pink ostrich feathers about half-way through episode

from S2 the episode 5 and 6 are Neil’s favourite episodes

Neil was asked which episode does have the best outfit and said: Probably episode 5. There are some particularly excellent clothes in episode 5, and one particular outfit that’s amazing. There are some wonderful clothes all the way through, though, so this one is going to be up to personal taste. Still…

Episode 6

entirely jaunty-little hat free

in this episode there is Neil’s favourite scene from the S2

from S2 the episode 5 and 6 are Neil’s favourite episodes

the script editor having read the rewrite of last 10-15 minutes was laughing while crying (x)

#gos2 #season 2 #2ep1 #2ep2 #2ep3 #2ep4 #2ep5 #2ep6 #:)

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

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You Are a Memory {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: END GAME SPOILERS!!! AGE 18+ SCENARIOS

Starts after Sebastian’s questline and goes until the two of you are in your 7th year, aged up to 18+. Sebastian has just killed his uncle, and it finally dawns on the two of you how far down the dark path you’ve gone. You aren’t good for one another, and it’s time you let each other go.

Could be a standalone, but if you’d like some extra background on yours and Sebastian’s relationship, feel free to read these first: Pining in Potions Class, Pretty Thoughts, and Selfless. (I like to write a non house specific reader, but Gall of a Gryffindor can work too if any of you Gryffindors out there want that little extra).

Word Count: ~ 5,400 😬 whoopsies

Warnings: Kissing, Angst, Sex (first time making love, gender neutral so not crazy explicit smut level, characters are aged 18+)

Author’s Note: Listen listen listen listen… it’s not that I don’t like you guys. I just wanna make you pretty cry a bit, okay? You and Seb have been too happy together in my short stories and I’m ready to be the drama and add a little spice. This is my first attempt at a sex scene and a gender neutral one at that. I’m happy with how it turned out, but I’ll keep pushing myself to write better. Enjoy everybody, hope you’re having a good day 😊

Songs (if interested, bonus songs because it’s a long one today, pop them on and join my sad vibes):

You Are a Memory - Message to Bears

In This Shirt - The Irrepressibles

Exit Music (For A Film) - Radiohead

September 15, 2017: Cassini - The Grand Finale - Sleeping At Last

Light - Sleeping At Last

Falling Colour - Vanbur

You finally left the room of requirement after having spent a good amount of your Saturday there. The magical beasts you saved were always excellent company, even in a time as dark as this. When Deek had excused himself for the night, it was then you realized you should probably get to bed yourself.

You silently cursed when you saw how dark and empty the halls were. It was difficult to keep track of time with the vivariums and Deek’s room ambience enchantments. No question you were well passed curfew. Though, a detention was the least of your worries at the moment.

You heard your name called from somewhere in the darkness. You gasped and turned quickly to see Sebastian pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here?” The two of you hadn’t spoken since he ran from the cave. You hadn’t sought him out when you returned to the castle. You let him have his space, and heaven knows you needed it too.

“I needed to see you.” He said, not meeting your eyes.

“How long have you been waiting? I’m so sorry, if I had known -”

“It’s alright. I... needed the time to think about what I was going to say to you.”

Noticing the room of requirement’s door was still there, you pulled him back in with you. “Let’s talk in here.”

Sebastian’s eyes roamed the room. He would have been in awe at the beauty of it all. But the image of his dead uncle and the heartbroken look on Anne’s face took away any levity the room could have given him.

With Sebastian’s hand still in yours, you guided him to a nearby couch which had been your favorite spot aside from the beast vivariums, though you had a feeling it wouldn’t be any longer after your conversation that night. You sat and gently tugged at his hand for him to sit down with you.

Releasing your hand, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He looked down at the floor, and you waited for him to speak first. You didn’t want to rush him.

“How did things go so wrong?” He buried his face in his hands, his voice faltering. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to -”

Hearing his distress, you placed your hand on his back, rubbing up and down.

He took a shaky breath to right himself. He then grabbed your hand that was rubbing his back and held it in his lap. He rubbed a thumb across your skin and stared at the lines that graced your palm. “We need to end this.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and tears stung at your eyes. You also knew the two of you were heading this direction, but to hear one of you actually say it out loud still broke something in you. “I know.” You whispered.

Sebastian shot a hand up to cover his eyes, desperately trying to stop tears of his own from falling. His shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back. “I know.” You said again, still with no conviction. “I’m just as tempted by the dark arts as you are, Sebastian. If we stay together, I'm afraid we’ll cause even more damage.”

“I don’t want this.” He choked through his tears.

You held him tighter, the tears finally falling down your cheeks. You breathed in his scent once more, taking in everything you could of him before he would leave that night. “Neither do I.”

He gently tugged at your arms to get you to release him. He stood to his feet and made his way to leave. You knew you should let him go, but you jumped up from the couch and called for him just as he was going to open the door. “Sebastian!”

His fingers hovered over the handle, he turned slightly to look at you. He waited for you to continue, but you could only stare at him, eyes sparkling with tears.

Digging his heels into the ground, he closed the distance between the two of you in only a few steps. He took your face in his hands and crashed his lips onto yours. You met him with just as much need and grabbed at the fabric covering his chest to keep him close. The both of you whimpered at the despair in your kiss, cheeks wet with tears. This was the end of it and there was no running from the pain.

Before you knew it, Sebastian left your embrace, speeding out of the room. Once the door shut behind him, you collapsed to the floor and allowed your sobs to consume you.

The remaining days of your fifth year went by the slowest. Each day you weren’t working with Professor Fig on your ancient magic and going through the keepers’ trials, you struggled to fill your time. Poppy was finally taking it easy after you had helped her with the centaurs. And Natty was still recovering from your fight with Harlow. Her mother had a closer eye on her than ever before, so spending time with her away from the castle wasn’t happening.

Every time you saw Sebastian, you did everything you could to keep your distance and avoid looking his way. At first you tried to sneak glances, but you found it hurt too much, and it only tempted you to run back into his arms.

“Maybe we were too rash. Maybe we can be better together.” You envisioned yourself saying to him, but you knew it wouldn’t be true. It was made clear every time you left the castle and ran into poachers. They made it difficult to stray from your dark path. Seeing what they had done to so many animals, you were nowhere near done with the cruciatus curse. You weren’t good for Sebastian, you needed to accept that and let him heal. He could be better, and he would be.

You don’t know how you made it out alive against Rookwood and Ranrok, yet there you were. You shifted uncomfortably in your bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Aside from some deep gashes that needed stitching, a ton of bruising, and a sprained ankle, you had managed to make it out all right. But Professor Fig hadn’t, and it weighed on you heavily.

Word spread fast about how you fought alongside the professors to defend the school. All your friends had come to see you - well - almost all of them. Even some people you didn’t know very well came to check in.

When Ominis came in to the hospital wing, you felt yourself go stiff. Along with leaving Sebastian behind, you left Ominis as well. You panicked at the thought of facing him. If you had never entered their lives, Sebastian might not have been able to dive so deep into the dark arts. He might have listened to his closest friend and the whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

“How are you?” Ominis asked as he pulled up a chair by your bedside.

“A little roughed up, I suppose. And you?” You were afraid to ask, because the conversation could so easily move towards Sebastian.

“I’m well thank you. And a little roughed up? From what I hear you sound like you belong in this hospital bed for the remainder of the year.”

You began to laugh but then hissed in pain, grabbing at your side. “Well, I can’t really disagree with you there, can I?”

He gave a soft chuckle, and then he fell quiet. The look on his face made it seem like he was debating his next words. “Look, I heard what happened between you and Sebastian.”

“Ominis, please -”

“Let me finish. I heard what happened between the two of you but I’m still here for you. That day you took on the cruciatus curse for him, I knew you’d proven yourself to be a true friend. I understand why the two of you are no longer speaking, and as much as I’m sure it hurts, I agree it’s what’s best for the both of you. Please know, you don’t have to be a stranger when it comes to me.”

It hit you how much you had missed Ominis as well. “Thank you.”

“I'm afraid I have to get going now, I snuck away from Sebastian to check in on you. I feel I’ve constantly had to talk him out of coming to visit the second he heard what happened.”

You nodded your head, “It’s best he doesn’t come. I think I’d fall out of this bed and crawl right into his arms if he had.”

“I thought the same.” He stood up from his chair. “Now get some rest. I can grab something for you from Honeydukes later.”

“Chocolate Frogs, I’m begging you.” Just as you were starting to cheer up, the thought of Hogsmeade reminded you of Rookwood, and what he had told you before he tried to kill you. “Ominis, wait. There’s something you and Sebastian need to know about Anne.”

Sebastian couldn’t stand it. Though he knew full well Ominis was right about how he shouldn’t go to visit you, it had gotten to a point where he wasn’t able to sleep without having seen how you were doing with his own eyes.

Sneaking out of his dorm, he made his way to the hospital wing. He crept in, cloaked with the disillusionment spell and stood at the entrance. Eyes searching, it didn’t take long to spot you. You seemed to be the only student admitted.

He tiptoed over as not to wake you. When he reached you, his heart crumpled at the sight. A majority of your body was covered by the blanket, but from the skin he could see on your neck and face, you were riddled with bruising and stitches. Without thinking, he brushed his fingers along your cheek.

You let out a soft moan and Sebastian yanked back his hand, panicked he had woken you. But you went quiet again, the only sound escaping you was your breathing. He should have listened to Ominis, seeing you again like that had pulled him right back in. He needed to get out of there.

Just as he as he turned to leave, you mumbled, “Sebastian?”

He looked back fearfully, thinking he was caught. But you were still sound asleep as you murmured his name. He ached to kneel before your bedside and grab your hand. He wanted to kiss it over and over, reassuring you saying, “I’m here. I’m here. Everything’s alright now.” But he couldn’t, and before he could fight himself on it any longer, he forced his feet to move one in front of the other until he was back in his dorm.

It was the beginning of your seventh year at Hogwarts when the Triwizard Tournament was announced to take place. It sounded like just the thing you needed to get through your last year.

You don’t know how you made it through your sixth year, it wasn’t nearly as eventful as your fifth had been. Though you were thankful everything seemed to be going a lot smoother in the world and your friends were safe, you were still uneasy with all the free time you had. You busied yourself up in the room of requirement if you weren’t with Poppy or Natty, and would stay just late enough to make it back right before curfew.

Though it was impossible to not see Sebastian, you did everything you could to minimize the chances. By the end of the year, you had found a good routine to get you through the rest of your time at Hogwarts. And adding this tournament on top of it could really help you thrive.

You fiddled with the folded up parchment that had your name written on it as you stood in the crowd around the Goblet of Fire. You were standing side by side with Natty who was also going to put her name in, the two of you waited for your turn to walk up. It was interesting watching all the Beauxbaton Academy and Durmstrang Institute students put their name in. They all looked so confident, and with such athletic builds, you couldn’t believe some of them were only 18 years old like you were.

After Natty placed her name in, you clapped along with everyone else and threw in a special holler just for her. Then it was your turn. As you were about to let the parchment fall in and be swallowed up by the flames, you looked out to the cheering crowd and locked eyes with Sebastian. Out of everyone around you, how did you manage to spot him? Dropping your name in, the crowd erupted in applause. You bowed your head and smiled as you left the circle.

When you returned to your position amongst the crowd, you tried to shake the image of his face from your mind. The way he was looking at you when you entered your name into the fire, it was almost as if he was crushed to see you do so. But you immediately dismissed the thought. It was dark in there and the only light source came from the Goblet, you couldn’t have possibly gotten a good read on his reaction. You two were no longer in each other’s lives and it’s been that way for a while. Get over yourself. He wouldn’t care what you did any more.

“You? But... why?” Was all Sebastian could ask his best friend. Ominis had just informed him he was the one taking you to The Yule Ball. Sebastian had known you were going with someone after overhearing you turn down a Durmstrang student, apologizing and explaining you already had a date. He had been in a dreadful mood ever since. But his sour mood turned perplexed at Ominis’ announcement.

“Honestly? Because I’m afraid of what you’d do to anyone else who did. Also, it looks good for a Gaunt to be going to the ball with the Hogwarts champion, if I’m not going to be the champion myself. Got my family off my back somewhat.”

Sebastian sighed. “Ominis, you didn’t need to trouble yourself. I’m fine now. We’re fine. We haven’t spoken in who knows how long. The two of you should go with people you -” have an interest in. He finished in his head, unable to say the words aloud without feeling sick.

Though he’d hate to admit it, Sebastian was filled with immense relief Ominis was the one taking you to the ball. He had seen the rather large amount of people who had approached you, and he wanted to shoo off each one of them. But he had no right, he needed to let you live your life. After all, it would have been highly hypocritical of him considering he had said yes to going with Amelie Dupont, the champion for Beauxbatons Academy.

Sebastian and Ominis waited side by side at the bottom of the stairs for their dates. He was hoping with every fiber in his body that you would walk down those stairs before Amelie did, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist watching you come down with undivided attention. And that would be horribly rude of him with his date at his arm already.

But of course, Amelie arrived first. He shouldn’t have expected any different knowing how you were. Always off doing something until the last minute.

With Amelie’s arm linked in his, all champions and their dates stood, lined in formation to enter the ballroom, except one.

“Ah Mr. Gaunt, here is your date now.”

Sebastian shot his gaze to the stairs at Professor Weasley’s words and went stiff. In that moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped. You were breathtaking. He had never seen you in such formal attire. For some reason, feeling foolish about it then, he had expected you to be dressed in some variation of the Hogwarts uniform. It had been all he’d seen you in for the passed year and a half.

“So sorry I’m late.” You called down as you descended the steps, watching your step as you did so as not to trip in your new fancy shoes. You were still breaking them in and weren’t the most confident. When you looked up your eyes met Sebastian’s, and the way he was looking at you had your insides twisting.

Sebastian swallowed thickly when you looked his way, and for a brief moment he let himself live in the fantasy that you were walking down the stairs to meet him. Time slowed down and memories began popping up all at once in his brain: the first time you met, the both of you trying to hide your laughter at Garreth’s nonsense in potions class, your first kiss in the library, all your sneaky pecks to his cheek, and even the times he’d rest his head on your lap as the two of you laid in the grass under the sun.

“Alright you two, join the line here.” His thoughts were interrupted at Professor’s Weasley’s voice. You took Ominis’ arm and got in the back of the line. Sebastian made himself face forward, awaiting further instruction.

“You look very handsome, Ominis.” He heard you whisper to his best friend.

“Thank you, I’m sure you look wonderful yourself.” You and Ominis cackled.

Walking out in front of everyone and doing the traditional first dance was all a blur. Sebastian hadn’t been able to compose himself after he saw you coming down the stairs.

Once the dance was over, he excused himself from Amelie and went to the washroom. He leaned against the sink, trying to steady his breathing. How could he have ever thought he was over you? You still meant as much to him then as you had when you parted ways in the room of requirement. He was extra thankful Ominis had been your date, if anyone else had been and he had to watch you link arms with them he didn’t think his heart could take it.

Once he returned to the ball, his eyes landed on you and Ominis on the dance floor. You were talking and laughing with him easily, seeming to not have a care in the world.

Do I have even the slightest effect on you anymore? Sebastian wondered as he watched from afar. He thought back to when you put your name in the Goblet of Fire. Your eyes had met his and he silently pleaded with you not to go through with it, people died in this tournament. Though he knew you were capable, having to watch you be put in harm’s way and he wouldn’t be able to help had him petrified. But you dropped it in and turned away, proud to have your name in the running. When your name was chosen from the Goblet, because of course it was, the terror and misery that went through him was paralyzing. Ominis had to help keep him steady the rest of that day.

He had a sick hope he made you hurt at least a little having come with Amelie. But you were the one on the dance floor, happy as can be, not the one trying to keep it together in the washroom like he had just been.

Sebastian went and found Amelie. He apologized and asked her for another dance.

The night went by decently enough for Sebastian. Amelie was beautiful and talkative, so when the two of them weren’t dancing, they were surrounded by a group of people asking her an abundance of questions. He was thankful she took the reins in conversation because he wasn’t in a socializing mood. Every now and then he took glances your way, not once did he catch your eye.

It was nearing the end of the night and Amelie had asked if he wanted to go back to the dance floor. He looked out and saw you and Ominis were back out there already.

“I - I apologize, I promised a friend a dance and it’s slipped my mind ‘til now.”

Amelie nodded with a smile and went back to speaking with a few Durmstrang students who were eager for her attention.

Before he knew it, he was making his way over to you and Ominis. When he reached the two of you on the dance floor, he held out a hand towards you.

Your laughing and dancing ceased.

“May I cut in?” Sebastian asked, gaze on you unflinching.

Your insides began buzzing with nerves. The thought of your first time interacting with Sebastian again through a dance was nearly too much to handle.

“Go ahead.” Ominis said with a smile as he released you, his approval taking you by surprise. “I need a rest anyhow.” Before you could protest, he was gone, leaving you and Sebastian alone.

You tentatively grabbed his hand and he pulled you into a dance. This being your first time speaking and touching after nearly two years, you didn’t think you would be able to look him in the eyes. But that was the only place you could look.

The two of you didn’t speak, it seemed you didn’t need to. Over the course of your dance, the two of you moved in closer, dismissing the official waltz stance you were supposed to be in. Your arms found their way around his shoulders and his around your waist. He leaned his head against yours as you slowly swayed from side to side.

You had fought so hard to distance yourself from him, and all it took was one dance to pull you back in. You never wanted to let go. Because as soon as you let go, he would be gone from your life again. The way he was holding onto you made you believe he had the same worry. You breathed in his scent like you used to do when you were this close. You hummed and pulled him closer, he still used the same cologne you loved.

Sebastian closed his eyes, imagining it was just the two of you in your own little world. He relished every second of this dance with you. Having you back in his arms felt right, like this was where you were always supposed to be.

“Excusez-moi? Sebastian, I’m getting tired. Would you like to walk me back to the dorms?” Amelie hiccupped, seeming to have had some drinks other students snuck in.

His eyes shot open and you tried to pull away quickly, but he grabbed your hand with a strong hold so you wouldn’t get too far. As the two of you looked at Amelie, you shook your hand from his grasp and cleared your throat. “Of course he would! Appreciate you letting me steal him away for a quick dance. Always great to catch up with an old friend. Goodnight, you two.”

Sebastian watched as you escaped to Ominis’ side, your vanishing warmth making him feel empty. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave things there and not speak to you for another year and a half. Dancing with you and holding you close would never have been enough to hold him over.

“You’ll have to guide me.” Amelie giggled, linking her arm in his. “This castle is a maze.”

“It can be. Would you excuse me one moment?” He slipped from Amelie’s grasp and ran to your side. He touched your elbow and your attention was back on him.

Your eyes widened at the gall Sebastian had to leave Amelie’s side. You already felt terrible she had to witness the two of you dancing the way you were, but truth be told she was probably too sozzled to notice. “Sebastian, you can’t just -”

“Meet me in the undercroft, I’ll be there shortly.”

“I can’t, I -” You gestured weakly to Ominis who was aware of everything that was happening.

“Please.” The rigor in his voice made it clear he wasn’t asking, then he returned to Amelie’s side.

You looked to Ominis, dumbstruck at Sebastian’s actions. “Ominis, you need to speak with him. Get him back to his senses.”

But Ominis only shook his head, “Meet with him.”

After all this time, you found yourself in the undercroft again. While you waited for Sebastian, you looked around, nostalgia washing over you. You found your way next to a wooden table covered in markings you hadn’t remembered seeing. Sebastian’s, Ominis’, and Anne’s names were all over, along with some carvings of stick figures. One of the carvings was a heart with yours and Sebastian’s initials. You rubbed your hand over your chest in hopes to slow down your rapid pulse. Then you ran your fingers over it.

His heart ached as he watched you. “I did that when you were recovering in the hospital wing. I was a mess.”

You startled slightly at his voice.

“A few weeks after we... well...” He looked down, kicking the dirt at his feet, wanting to change the subject. “We haven’t bumped into each other down here since fifth year, have we? How often do you come these days?” He asked, looking back up to you.

“Oh, I... I haven’t been in here since fifth year.”

“You haven’t?” A large part of him hurt at the thought of you leaving the undercroft behind.

You shook your head, eyes continuing to roam around the room. “No. This place was always yours, Ominis’, and Anne’s. Never mine.”

“I tried to make it yours too.”

You met his dispirited gaze, and you didn’t know how to respond. You turned away and began meandering around. “What is this about, Sebastian?” You hoped he would get on with it, this whole night had been torture. Watching him dance with Amelie and barely leave her side, you were thankful you had Ominis to lean on.

He took a step towards you. “I want to be in your life again.” He blurted.

Your heart picked up its pace again and you froze. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but as much as you wanted to run and jump into his arms, you kept yourself in place. It wasn’t what was best for him.

“I want us again.” He said, taking another step towards you.

“Sebastian.” You sighed.

“Believe me when I say I’ve changed.” He began desperately. “I have no more temptations with the dark arts. Just ask Ominis! He’ll tell you how far I’ve come. I’m better now.”

You swallowed thickly in your throat. “But I’m not.” You confessed, barely above a whisper. You released a shaky breath and met his stare. “I am so proud to hear you’ve come far. Truly, I am. But I am still no good for you.” You glanced away from him then, unable to say it to his face. “I still use the unforgiveable curses... all the time.” You went tense at the admission, “These poachers Poppy and I come across, they conjure up something so monstrous in me, I -” You stopped yourself, not eager to explain further.

“I can help you.” He was by your side then. “I brought you into the dark arts. I can help get you out. My hatred for Ranrok’s loyalists? I was able to overcome that too.” He took your hand and pressed it to his chest. “You don’t know how far I’d go for this. I’m so in love with you it hurts. I can’t stand to see you and act like I don’t know you anymore.”

You shook your head at the overwhelming nature of it all, an unsteady exhale left your lips. The look on your face told him you were considering his words, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath. “Sebastian, if I pull you back to the dark arts, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You won’t.” He brought the back of your hand to his lips. “I mean it when I say I’ve changed. Have a little confidence in me, will you?”

You bit your lip, and thought through everything that could go wrong if you went back to him. But him telling you he was in love with you had taken away all your resolve. All the warnings you usually chided yourself with were falling flat, not being at all effective like they used to be even just a moment ago. You nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyes went wide, unable to believe it.

“Okay. And I love you too. So much, Sebastian.”

Sebastian picked you up and swung you in his arms, causing a boisterous laugh to spring out from inside you. He set you down and brought one hand up to cup your cheek, smashing his lips against yours. Being able to be with you like this again had him bursting at the seams with joy.

You kissed him back with just as much fervor. Your hands shot up to his hair and you gripped his locks between your fingers. He backed you up until you hit the wooden table you were looking at earlier. Without taking his lips off of yours he hoisted you up and positioned himself between your legs. He licked at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth partly for him to taste more of you. You let out a whimper, then you felt him press his front against yours. You gasped at the sudden feel of it and he made himself stop kissing you.

“I’m sorry.” He said breathlessly, forehead pressed to yours. “We don’t have to. I just couldn’t help myself. You just -” He buried his face into your neck and sighed, “Every time I see you, I go mad. I’ve missed you all this time and to finally have you here in my arms -”

You began to unbutton his shirt with delicate fingers. He pulled back and looked you into your eyes.

“A - Are you sure?”

You smiled at him and nodded your head, continuing to undo his buttons. He helped you shakily yet eagerly. Then he began to help you undress, covering you in comforting kisses as he did so. It was nerve-racking, undressing in front of each other for the first time. But you weren’t with just anyone in that moment, you were with Sebastian, and he was with you. The two of you were hopeful for the future, but in that moment neither of you cared what happened from then on. The two of you were ready, and you wanted be each other’s first.

You moved to the floor together, laying on your clothes, he covered your body with his. He leaned down to kiss you, his chest pressing against yours, and the feel of his skin was electrifying. You could feel his hardness pressed against you as you continued to hold each other, taking your time exploring one another in a way no one else had.

He shivered as you touched him, sighing your name against your lips. He dragged his fingers from your neck, lightly touching down your body, passed your waist, until he placed his hand between your thighs.

And right then, with the urgent need about to burst from both your cores, you knew there was no other place in the world you'd rather be. This ache you felt for each other left no room for doubt, this couldn’t have happened with anyone else, you were made for one another. You both were on the brink with each other’s touches, clueless how it could possibly feel better than it already had.

“I’m ready.” You whimpered.

Sebastian, eyes clouded with desire, nodded his head. You both adjusted until you fit each other perfectly, starting slow to get the hang of it, and eventually losing yourselves in one another in a tangle of limbs. You covered each other with kisses, licks, and even some bites as the need to melt into each other grew more and more. In those moments together, as your breaths and moans echoed throughout the undercroft, the only temptation presenting itself was each other, and it was pure bliss.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow mature content #sebastian sallow angst

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cosmo--raptor · 2 months

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Power Ranger Colors and What They Mean (According to the TTRPG)

I got my hands on the core rulebook for the Power Rangers Essence20 TTRPG and I wanted to share the information in both the core rulebook and the A Jump Through Time expansion book pertaining to the Morphin Grid colour spectrums. The Morphin Grid chooses rangers based on their distinctive personality, with the spectrum selected being best suited to them.

All text in quote marks is directly pulled from both the Power Rangers Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook and the Power Rangers Roleplaying Game: A Jump Through Time sourcebook.

Red Spectrum: The Leaders

"Born leaders and warriors through and through, candidates chosen to embody the noble spirit and fighting prowess that each Red Ranger uses to stand proud and strong in the front lines of their Ranger teams. They are fearless fighters that show their teammates how to defend the Morphin Grid personally. Ready with their firsts, their blades, and an inspiring show of leadership, Red Rangers are almost always the first into a fight.

Stand Tall and Fierce! Red Rangers personify the kind of proud nobility and martial skill prowess it takes to lead a Power Ranger team. Subtlety and subterfuge are not the kinds of skills that tend to be important to a Red Ranger, as their candidates are chosen for their ability to think on their feet and solve problems directly rather than trying to find ways around them. Red Rangers are, by no means, unintelligent or ignorant. They just tend to excel at taking trouble head on.

Always Ready to Help. The strength and sanctity of the Power Ranger team is, at their core, where a Red Ranger draws its strength. Their fighting styles revolve around teaming up on enemies, dealing decisive blows after a teammate has softened them up, and either serving as the core of a team's Grid Zord Megaform, or alternatively, standing back to back on their own fighting Zord with a Megaform made up of the rest of the team!

A Long and Noble Line. Stretching as far back as to when the Morphin Grid has needed them, Red Rangers have had a place on their most successful champion teams. Across dimensions and across time, those noble warrior leaders have all had the same ideal embossed on their very core: the team comes first, and its enemies cannot be allowed to harm its members. Even if a Red Ranger has had to put themselves directly on the line in the name of their teammates, they would do so gladly for the sake of their friends."

Blue Spectrum: The Thinkers

"Those chosen to embody the energy of the Blue Ranger will be the closest member of the team to the inner workings of the Morphin Grid itself. Candidates for becoming a Blue Ranger are selected for their brains far more than their fighting skills, choosing to use the Morphin Grid's many facets to design all of the tools, technology, and special equipment the team might need. If it runs on the Power within the Grid, the Blue Ranger is likely to be the one to decipher, understand and ultimately help the team wield it against the forces of evil.

Team Technician. Blue Rangers embody the Morphin Grid's ability to design and create constructs and devices using millennia of knowledge from around the universe. They are the most likely member of the team to discover an alien item, piece of technology, or special construct that will help solve the problem or overcome and obstacle. While other teammates might spend their time working on new fighting techniques or Zord maneuvers, a Blue ranger is probably seeking knowledge about the past to better deal with the future.

Brains Over Brawn. Unlike candidates chosen for other colors of Ranger in the Spectrum, people chosen to be Blue Rangers are rarely looked at save for their most basic fighting abilities or combat instincts. Instead, they are chosen for their brilliant minds and the ingenuity they bring to the team. Blue Rangers embody the logical calculation it takes to see a victory and how to achieve it before the first punch is ever laid on a Putty. As a Power Ranger they will have to battle the forces of evil, but they personify the idea of fighting smarter, not harder.

A Stoic Role. For as long as there have been Power Ranger teams, the Blue Ranger has not only been the technician and the inventor for their teammates, but also the stalwart memory of the Morphin Grid itself. The history of all that has gone before flows through the color of the Spectrum and this is personified in not only their abilities and skills, but in the beasts and creatures from which their Zords take shape. They are animals that embody wisdom and mysticism; the triceratops, the unicorn, and sphinx are all infused with the Blue Ranger's energy."

Black Spectrum: The Charmers

"Rangers that are imbues with the Black energy of the Morphin Grid tend to be social charmers, entertainers, and the real life of the party. They are the personification of team unity, and a lot of what they do helps keep the bonds between members strong and tight. Black Rangers are equally adept at fighting back to back with their friends, showing that the team comes first and always ready to stand up for any part of it.

Dance, Song, Jokes. One collective way that Black Rangers tend to reach their teammates with their special brand of reinforcing positivity is through light-hearted behaviors not commonly found in a staunch warrior. Whether that is through telling one liner jokes, harmless limericks or rhymes, singing pleasant tunes, and maybe even just showing with a little personal dance, Black Rangers connect their team members to themselves and each other.

Good Leaders. When a Ranger more dedicated to leadership, like a Red or White Ranger, isn't available for the team, Black Rangers often step up and take the role. Their dedication to team strength and cooperation put them in a great place to make collective plans, and their teammates rarely have reason to question what motivates a Black Ranger. While they tend to be the glue between their team standing at its forefront is just as natural to them.

Stalwart Anchors. A Black Ranger's Zord, whether it hails from the depths as a Dinozord or even a humanoid Shogunzord or Battle Borg, represent being a defensible root or anchor for the team's other Zords. Animal shapes are often tough, armored, quadruped beasts known for their ability to withstand tremendous adversity. Humanoid Zords are thick-limbed and wield heavier weaponry. Vehicular Zords revolve around being a hard punch, and anvil upon which the other rangers in the team can rely."

Yellow Spectrum: The Artists

"Chosen for their understanding of the arts, both creative and martial, candidates to accept the power of the Yellow Ranger should be clever, witty, and full of originality. They are fast thinkers and just as fast on their feet, able to judge where best to apply their skills and get there quickly to do so. The Yellow energy of the Spectrum chooses those with adaptable minds and agile hands to wield its power. Yellow Rangers are not the hammer in the toolbox, they are the paintbrush. Instead of apply a direct single solution that may pass or fail in one fell swoop, a Yellow Ranger is drawn to using many smaller applications of their skills to build up to a more certain solution.

Soul of the Team. Where other Rangers of the Spectrum fill certain roles like inventor, leader or supporting healer, Yellow Rangers are like the water in which their boats sail upon. A Yellow Ranger is a friend, a confidante, and always ready to stand shoulder-to-shoulder or back-to-back with one or more of their teammates. Their team can count on them to be there, chipping away at and coming up with solutions for the same problems and obstacles the team might face.

Right Place, Right Time. Speed. Speed is part of what makes a Yellow Ranger able to be in many places at once, and capable of lending their help when it is needed most. Yet this is not the kind of speed that is measured in races and sprints. It is not mere how far they can run, it is the ability to act on the go, and put their skills to good use here, there and anywhere they are needed as they maneuver through a conflict.

Hands On Fighter. Yellow Rangers have the fastest hands and feet on a Power Ranger Team. While other Rangers might hit harder or at a distance, Yellow Rangers are empowered to strike fast and furiously up close. What another warrior might inflict with a single blow that could be turned aside or dodged, these Rangers strike from every different angle. Their foes are worn down in seconds, and they might never have realized where the tidal wave of blows ever even came from."

Pink Spectrum: The Sharpshooters

"Infused with one of the supporting energies in the Spectrum, Pink Rangers are warriors that specialize in backing up their team from the rear ranks. They are archers, snipers, and markspeople of the highest caliber. When a Pink Ranger is on the team, the rest of their allies can always fight confidently knowing that a Grid-enhanced sharpshooter is watching their back.

Can't Catch Me! Pink Rangers are solid martial artists, but first and foremost they are ranged combat experts with numerous abilities and talents that benefit the team most when they are outside of the reach of an enemy. They are nimble, agile, and often chosen for their gymnastic talents. These skills are perfect for dodging out of trouble's way to get a better vantage point to pick off Putties and Tengas that might threaten their friends!

True Heart. It takes a lot of heart and trust in their teammates to stand in the rear or on the flanks, picking off enemies a few at a time instead of wading in and fighting back to back with their friends. They fill their team with hope and good will; sometimes with words, sometimes with actions. When a Power Ranger looks over their shoulder, whether it is at the local juice bar hanging out or in the middle of a field of Eye Guy's floating minions, and sees their Pink Ranger is watching, they can trust they are in good hands.

Best Defence. Pink rangers are light on their feet and lightly armored within their shell, but their energy and their training makes up for it by simply keeping the enemy from getting their hands on them. They duck and dodge most incoming threats, relying on their teammates to lend a hand when things get thick, but always taking down important targets as they dance, flip, and dart around the battlefield."

Green Spectrum: The Survivalists

"Possessing a rare wavelength of energy within the Morphin Grid, Green Rangers are the loners and the outsiders. They join with Ranger teams when they can, but still tend to work on the outside of operations and do so in a way to maintain the sanctity of the team concept. Green Rangers are ready for anything, whether they line up as part of a team or if they stand alone against the forces of evil.

Still Part of the Spectrum. The Green Ranger was once unleashed by General Repulsa as a weapon of her own, but it took her ancient arcane powers to do so. This goes to show that the Green Ranger is not a pawn to be pushed around, but instead a powerful part of the Morphin Grid, same as any other. They just might seem to play on their own better than other members of their team. They are the rogues, the wildcards, and they are good at playing by their own rules.

Fight Hard for Victory. Green Rangers, whether they have a Power Ranger Team to fall back upon or not, have an uphill battle to prove themselves worthy of the gift that has been placed upon them. They are skilled fighters that take on threats that entire teams might try and face, normally long enough to get the rest of the team involved to achieve victory. Their fighting styles might be less conventional than other Rangers, but no one would argue that it doesn't get the job done.

Unique Connection. Being apart from the common Spectrum for as long as it had been, the Green energy wavelength has a different and truly unique way that it interacts with the Morphin Grid. It can seamlessly bond with other rangers to be a part of a team, linking its Grid Zord to one or more other members' to form specialized Megazords in some cases, and staying separately devastating when they do battle on their own. It is as if the Morphin Grid itself understands the wildcard nature of the Green Ranger and has adapted to it accordingly."

Orange Spectrum: The Creatives

"The Orange energy of the Morphin Grid's Ranger Spectrum embraces the power of imagination, inspiration, and artistry. Orange Rangers are filled with personality and creativity, along with the flexibility to improve their team. They tend to be inventors, artists, creators of ideas, and dreamers. Their flexibility lets them fill any need or position on the team, especially if the work allows them to set their creative mind to completing their task in some new and exciting way.

Creativity Rules. The Orange energy of the Grid attaches itself to creative mentalities. It then enhances their ability to think outside the box and gives them the power needed to wield it on behalf of the side of good. They find new ways to accomplish tasks or overcome obstacles, often improvising or taking unorthodox paths.

Team Player. Even though an Orange Ranger excels when working alone due to their powers of creativity, they can also boost the team in many ways. Orange Rangers see the abilities and gifts of their fellow Rangers and, through the power of their part of the Spectrum, find more ways to wield them. When a team is hoping they need a particular proficiency or tool, even if they already have one but need two, an Orange Ranger can figure out a way to make that happen.

One of a Kind. Unlike many other kinds of Ranger, who maintain a physical image like the other team members, those wielding the Orange Spectrum alter their Morphin shell to express their creativity. This sort of individuality is rare for the core elements in the Ranger Spectrum."

Purple Spectrum: The Passionate

"Purple Rangers wield the power of the Grid through their emotions, primarily fueled by memories. All the hardships they endured, the people they loved, and the camaraderie of the friends they made fuel the forge of power inside every Purple Ranger.

Passion Power. Power Rangers know and understand the benefits of giving in to passion and keeping an emotional connection to all that drives them. Rage and anger can be necessary for enemy conflict, happiness can sweep away stressful hindrances, and the love of a best friend can make anyone a wall of defence when they are in harm's way. These feelings add to a Purple Ranger's power.

Make your mark. Each Purple Ranger draws upon their feelings in different and unique ways. One might lean into their rage and fury, showing their ferocity as an aggressive feel to their Morphed form. Another could stand defiantly in the path of harm, revealing how much they care for their fellows. Exactly how their feelings shape them is different for each Ranger, a sign that the Morphin Grid's energies also listen to their heart.

Always Adapting. The nature of most sapient beings is to feel, and just as feelings can change, so can how a Purple Ranger uses them. They might find roots in their anger or a foundation in the sense of calm, but how they apply those tools can change at a moment's notice. Purple Rangers are fluid and malleable, changing how they need to come at the obstacles and enemies in their way based on the situation and their feelings at the time."

Advanced Spectrum (White): The Purehearted

"Like the wavelength of light itself that it represents, the White energy of the Morphin Grid is like the raw energy pouring into the prism to be split into the necessary parts for the team to be at its best. There doesn't always have to be a White Ranger on a Power Ranger team, but it goes without saying that the teams that can draw on the pure and just power of their energy are some of the strongest the Morphin Grid has ever known. They are like a two sided-coin. One one side you have a strong and valiant leader, but on the other you have a noble warrior capable of standing against evil on its own.

Elevated Champion. Not just any candidate can become one with the White energy. They need to hold the concept of the Morphin Grid's power close to their hearts and stand is its very champion. White Rangers are not always the leaders of their teams, but they cannot ignore their will and desire to stand at the forefront and protect their teammates. A White Ranger will fight to the bitter end for their friends.

Valiant Leader. White Rangers frequently fall into the role of leading their Ranger teams, and their skills and abilities only augment this. They fight bravely, they defend fearlessly, and they orchestrate their follow Ranger to work together as a better team. The White energy in the Spectrum comes with a strong need to stand against the enemies of good, and those who wield it are often the legends remembered throughout history.

Ranger and Zord as One. Unlike other wavelengths in the Spectrum, White energy focuses itself thought the Grid using unique and powerful relics, like Tommy's beloved tiger-blade, Saba. This somehow connects the inner essence of the White Rangers to their Morphin Grid constructs tighter than that between a normal Ranger's Morpher and their Zord, Borg etc. This is why it seems that White Rangers bring new and special kinds of Zords to fight alongside those of their teams. Their Zords are just as worthy of leading the charge as they are."

B. Steele, T. Storm, E. Teague, Power Rangers Roleplaying Game Core Rulebook (Renegade Game Studios, 2023), 31-60.

B. Steele, J. Kennedy, Power Rangers Roleplaying Game A Jump Through Time (Renegade Game Studios, 2023), 30-36.

#power rangers #mighty morphin power rangers #power rangers roleplay #power rangers roleplaying game #essence20 #ttrpgs

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digoload · 6 months

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the paladin line up!!! (click for better quality)

This is a part of my voltron AU that I already did a bit of art on this here. i'll probably update my foolish design at some other time but there he is for now.

Under the cut -- my reasons for these particular characters, plus some sketched story ideas i had for them/their backstories prior to canon.

(also, yes - qtubbo tucks his jeans into his socks)

Green Paladin - Tubbo. He's green already, fantastic. Also, a nerd like Pidge and naturally curious. I considered other Create-oriented QSMPers for green lion but I think Tubbo fits the best!

Yellow Paladin - Missa. For a while I was gonna make Forever the yellow or blue paladin, but then I realised the whole cast would be wayyyyy too zany or weird. We needed a sturdy, relatable character. Someone who was scared. Someone who didn't really want to be there. Someone who would have an unlikely romance with a menacing purple rebellion-leader alien in space. I knew Missa was perfect for the job.

Blue Paladin - Etoiles. We don't know the specific qualifications for someone to be the blue paladin (thanks Lance), but there are some clear similarities between Lance and Blaytz (I know Allura doesn't really fit with the pattern towards the end of the series, but work with me here), so I sort of made up my own requirements. 1. screams with joy when they get to pilot their lion. 2. dogboy. 3. ready to throw down. (season 1 allura fits all 3 of these, but arguably not really towards s6-7-8). I kinda relate him most to Blaytz out of all the blue paladins.

Red Paladin - Roier. You KNOW it had to be Roier. Who else. Literally who else. The man is red. Ready to throw down. Trusts his instincts. Angsty backstory. Right-hand to the guy who takes the lead in most situations. Also, just in general, I have a vivid vision of qroier in the red lion's cockpit. He could totally pull it off.

Black Paladin - Cellbit. The other characters I considered for this role were bbh and philza, but in the end I liked them more with having alien roles mainly due to their backstories (BBH as an immortal soul-guide demon and Philza as an avian). I just think that Cellbit would fit this role better. He already sort of heads the Order, is associated with the colour black as well. But most of all. I think there's a lot of potential for an angst arc where he goes off on his own for some dumb self sacrificial reason I guess, or maybe because of his extremeee trust issues, and neglects his leader duties because of this. and then there's a whole lesson learned kind of thing, maybe roier brings him back, etc.

Now for some backstories:

I think Tubbo would follow Pidge's backstory and motives pretty closely, given his penchant for breaking into the federation offices and snooping around (very Pidge-like behaviour). The thing I struggled with was getting someone to be kidnapped by space aliens that Tubbo cared enough about to go searching for. I already have plans for Fred, Phil, and the eggs, and they're the main things that drive qtubbo. Also, ideally, they'd have to be somewhat older than Tubbo in order to be on the Kerberos mission in the first place. For a while, I thought about somehow having Tubbo and Pierre being connected, but they're not super close in canon, even if he would make an Excellent Sam Holt.

BUT THEN I REMEMBERED: MORNING CREW. ITS PERFECT. I don't think they'd be directly related, but Pac as Matt Holt just works so well. I think Fit and Ramon would be rebel fighters that free Pac from the Galra and they sort of fall in love that way, but Mike was on the Kerberos mission too and is still missing, and that's Pac's main motivation.

So I think the best people for the Kerberos mission crew would be Pac (technician), Mike (engineer), and Cellbit (pilot). Cellbit obviously takes Shiro's role (sans robot arm, that's Etoiles' duty later on - this AU would divert from VLD canon pretty early on). Roier never gives up on Cellbit, just like Tubbo never gives up on Pac (and Mike). Except unlike Tubbo, who has to purposely get enrolled at the Garrison as a cadet in order to get intel, Roier is already graduate from the same class as Cellbit. He KNOWS there's a coverup of some kind, but he has no way of proving it. Fortunately, an old upperclassman/ex-tutor believes in him enough that he believes in Cellbit too, and together they get to work on figuring out this mystery. When an alien pod crash lands, they know they've got to get a closer look.

Missa is an unfortunate decontamination unit first-responder who gets in the way. They can't just leave him behind to sound the alarm - he has to come with them while they rescue Cellbit! Unbeknownst to them, Tubbo has already taken out the alarms and is also on his way over. Miraculously, they all escape with their lives, and magic space lion adventures ensue.

I feel like none of them would really have any time to change into casual clothing, so they're all in uniform. Cellbit would probably still be in prisoner clothing but tbh I just didn't think of that lol. Also, I wanted to draw him in a garrison uniform that wasn't detox or combat oriented. There are so many cool garrison uniform designs out there so drawing the same one twice was kinda soul crushing lol. cant wait to show you guys their individual character sheets!!

#my art #qsmp tubbo #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #qsmp etoiles #qsmp missa #tubbo fanart #cellbit fanart #etoiles fanart #roier fanart #missasinfonia fanart #qsmp fanart #qsmp #voltron legendary defender #digo speaks #qsmp vld au

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sam-is-my-safe-word · 3 months

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(K)not for Sale

Dean Winchester (Supernatural) x Soldier Boy (The Boys) Rating: Explicit Tags: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Dubious Consent, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Smut, Shameless Smut, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega Soldier Boy (The Boys), Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Soldier Boy (The Boys), Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Anal Sex, Knotting, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasm, Aftercare

Word Count: 4,245

Summary: Every six months, Soldier Boy goes into heat. Vought can't afford to let him go without a knot and end up sick - again - so they bring in a compatible alpha to see him through. Whether Soldier Boy or the alpha want it or not.

Notes: PSA time - heed the tags. Non-con/dub-con for a/b/o dynamics. Y'all know the score I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "bend over, I'm not kidding" square.

~~~

Every six months, Dean gets the call. He can pin-point the exact day it will come, even though most omega’s cycles aren’t that accurate. After a decade of calls, his own body starts to respond in the days before it arrives.

He hates it.

But you don’t argue with Vought, and when they’d tracked him down, a newly matured alpha at just twenty-two, offers to see Sammy through Stanford and into an excellent law firm had been enough to convince him to sell his knot twice a year.

And when Sam had graduated and was safely in employment with said excellent law firm, Vought's assurances that Sam could disappear with just a word had kept him compliant.

Sam knew. He figured it out when the college offers came in with no mentions of scholarships. He’d been furious, but turning down the place wouldn’t have got Dean out of the contract he’d signed.

And now, ten years down the line, it’s just another fact of life. Death, taxes, and calls from Vought.

He hates that his body is tied to someone else's like this, a sick parody of a mated couple going into heat and rut together. Hates the exhausting drive, hates NYC, hates Vought Tower and everything that goes on in there.

But the time spent in a secured room with Soldier Boy… he loves that.

~~~

The same Vought lackey walks him down the same corridor every time. The jumpsuit they gave him itches, some kind of fancy-pants body armour that looks and feels like normal clothes but will protect him from Soldier Boy ripping his limbs off or something. He didn’t really pay attention when they first brought out the duds.

The lackey pauses outside the usual door. The way Dean’s body is responding, you’d think the corridor is drenched in the scent of omega-in-heat. But it smells of nothing. This is pure pavlovian.

The guy is reading from a clipboard. He was just a kid when he started leading Dean down this corridor. They’ve grown up together. Dean wonders if he hates this as much as Dean does.

“Right, so remember to keep the suit on at all times. Don’t let him have access to any area you want to protect.”

Dean clears his throat and when the man looks up, he gives his crotch a long, pointed look.

“Any area I’d want to protect? Like my cock, you mean?”

That gets him a half-smile.

“Oh, no, he wants that part of you. Just anything else you want to keep. Arms, legs, guts on the inside, y’know.”

Dean wills his stare to incinerate the other man, but he didn’t get the Supe gene and the man just shrugs, the ‘your choice’ as plain as day.

“Okay, see you in twelve hours. Have fun.”

Dean rolls his eyes.

The door opens, not revealing the sparse room Dean knows is beyond, but an ante-chamber of sorts. It’s decorated in the same bland, beige colours as the corridor. Dean thinks it should be all white and medical sterile. It serves a similar purpose as a decontamination chamber, except it’s one way. Keep what’s on the inside, inside.

No scent gets out, no sounds, certainly not a semi-feral Soldier Boy.

The door behind him shuts and Dean feels the vibration as deadbolts the size of his forearm lock into place. The inner door won’t open until he presses the large green button on the wall. But once he does, it’s twelve hours with no escape.

He takes a deep breath. It’s not difficult after so long, but there is still a headspace he needs to get into before he enters the room.

Dean needs his omegas willing as a bare minimum. If he has a choice past that, he likes them to be small, frisky blonde women that give as good as they get and leave him walking funny the next day. Or guys bigger than him that bend over beautifully and call him daddy. And he doesn’t treat his partners meanly. Doesn’t call them names and say cruel things.

But this, here. This isn’t sex. He isn’t wanted here. He doesn’t want to be here. This is a battle. He has to be faster, smarter, and trickier than his opponent. Otherwise he’ll end up dead. And what happens to Sammy if Dean isn’t here to sell his soul knot?

In the early days, Dean tried to be understanding. He tried to treat Soldier Boy with the same kindness he’d treat any other omega in his bed. It earned him two broken arms and a shattered orbital socket.

He didn’t attempt kindness again.

Feeling like an overgrown baby in a onesie, he pops open the split in the crotch of his jumpsuit. The panels of fabric that now hang loose get attached to the legs by more button popper things.

He’s gone from overgrown baby to assless chaps - almost. But it gets the important bits accessible without compromising any of the squishy bits he wants to keep in his stomach, thanks. The fact that his cock is a sometimes squishy part that he really wants to keep seems to go over Vought’s head.

He’s already hard, pre-cum running down the length to soak the skin and trimmed hair at the base. He jacks himself a few times then rubs his hands together to get the scent on them. Soldier Boy will respond a little better if Dean smells excessively alpha.

Another deep breath. Just twelve hours and he can go back to his hotel, take a blisteringly hot shower and drive home. Go back to his life for five months and three-point-five weeks.

He presses the button on the wall.

~~~

The room where Soldier Boy is waiting is a cold white colour. Dean has wondered more than once if Vought just repaints it instead of trying to clean the blood off the walls as needed.

There’s no furniture, just a mattress against one wall. Dean knows that it gets tossed out after one use.

It’s not a very large room. Probably for safety. If Soldier Boy got up some momentum, he could probably bust through a wall or something. Best to give him less space.

The space is absolutely saturated with the scent of heat pheromones and slick. It overpowers the scent of Soldier Boy’s fury. Dean can’t even smell himself over it. He hopes Soldier Boy can, otherwise this is going to be a nasty fight before the omega submits.

As always, Soldier Boy is facing away from the door, completely naked and staring at a blank wall. Dean can see the camera in the corner, knows Soldier Boy is completely in frame, but he’s never worked out if Soldier Boy is watching the lens or just staring at the wall. The muscles in his broad back twitch randomly, and every so often a shiver makes its way down his spine and the smell of slick gets even stronger for a few seconds.

“You gonna play nice this time, Omega?”

“Fuck you.”

This call and response has been happening since Dean got a new metal bone in his face and hardened his heart to everything that goes on in this room.

“We both know that isn’t how this is gonna go down.”

Soldier Boy’s shoulders are shaking now, a sign of his anger.

“Fuck. You.”

Dean cracks his neck. He always hopes Soldier Boy will just submit and make it easier on both of them. But he always prepares for the fight.

“C’mon, the quicker you show me that ass, the quicker this will all be over and you can get back to burning down orphanages or whatever the hell you Supes do.”

That gets Soldier Boy to turn, to try and stare Dean down, even though they’re the same height.

Dean takes the opportunity to look Soldier Boy over, starting at his feet and moving upwards. Tense legs, trembling thighs - slick coating the inner skin. The usual. Diamond-hard cock, flushed deep red, drooling pre-cum that Dean longs to lap up. Also usual. He’s flushed red from his chest to his temples, a mixture of the heat and his anger. His bangs are plastered to his forehead with sweat. Three for three, full steam ahead, captain.

Dean has seen Soldier Boy in action on the TV, in the green suit and gold shield. In front of a camera, he always looks perfectly put together, hair shiny and styled into soft waves, bangs that hang artfully over his forehead. It’s a far cry from the panting, sweating omega that stands before him now.

Soldier Boy takes a step forwards. Dean crouches just a little, gets ready.

“Leave. You’re not fuckin’ needed here.”

“Aww, c’mon, Omega. You'll hurt my feelings. We both know you’re desperate to bend over for an alpha.”

Another step, but Soldier Boy doesn’t stop at one. He keeps walking until he’s nose to nose with Dean.

“Never.”

His lip curls in disgust, but Dean can smell the fresh wave of slick.

“Always. Always, little Omega. You can shout all you want, but you always end up begging in the end.”

Dean leans in, pressing their foreheads together.

“Bend over, I’m not kidding.”

Soldier Boy crashes into him like a linebacker. It’s more luck than any kind of planning or judgement that they land on the mattress and not the floor. Even heat-weak and from a standing start, he still feels like a Mack truck smashing into Dean.

Soldier Boy winds up straddling Dean, both trying to grip the other's wrists. The constant shifting rubs their cocks together perfectly and Dean stills with a hiss. Soldier Boy freezes, face screwed up to hold back his moan.

He recovers a fraction quicker than Dean and manages to get Dean’s wrists in one hand. He raises his other arm, fist clenched. Dean might be about to get another metal bone in his face. For just a second, he wonders if Vought will pay to replace his whole skull or just leave him to die and find a new alpha.

He thrusts his hips up sharply, causing Soldier Boy to freeze again. Pulling up his knees, he thrusts again, throwing Soldier Boy off balance, pitching him off Dean’s hips.

Dean scrambles to get off his back, get his knees under him, get the higher ground.

Soldier Boy tries to turn onto his back, get his legs up to kick Dean away. But Dean’s alpha pheromones are draining the fight from him now. His omega is taking over, making him pliant.

Dean shoves him face down with both hands on a shoulder. Even completely flat on his stomach, Soldier Boy’s ass looks incredible. Dean can’t wait to see him present properly.

For now, though, he lays himself over Soldier Boy, chest to back. His cock slots perfectly in between Soldier Boy’s ass cheeks and is coated in slick within seconds. He can’t help rocking his hips, just to feel the glide. The body under him shudders violently.

“That’s it. You’ve had your little bitch fit, but this is where you want to be, isn’t it.”

Soldier Boy tries to rise on his elbows, but with Dean skin to skin, he’s unable to fight his omega anymore. Dean’s own alpha is snarling to fuck and claim. Dean rubs his neck against the sweaty skin of Soldier Boy’s shoulder, smearing his pheromones as close to Soldier Boy’s nose as he can get them. Soldier Boy’s arms shake and he faceplants on the mattress again. Dean catches a whisper that could be ‘Alpha’.

“Yeah, say my name.”

Dean doesn’t think Soldier Boy even knows his first name, but Alpha is close enough.

“I don’t know why you fight every time. You could just bend this ass over and we’d have a good time.”

Dean drives his point home with another thrust, drawing a bitten-off moan from the Supe under him.

“Fuck you.”

It’s mumbled into the mattress, but Dean can still hear the lack of bite in the words.

“You know you don’t really want that, Omega. This sweet ass is just begging for my cock, begging to be knotted.”

The base of Dean’s cock is starting to ache in the best way. He’s past ready to fuck and knot the omega in front of him.

“You gonna present for me like a good omega or are you gonna get fucked on your belly like a bitch?”

Dean doesn’t even see Soldier Boy move, but the back of his skull smashes into Dean’s face, breaking his nose and spraying blood everywhere.

“Not. A. Fucking. Bitch.”

The words are spat from behind gritted teeth, but they just don’t have the rage anymore. It’s a token effort, one last act of defiance. Dean is still going to need to see a doctor to get his nose reset… again. He’s still blinking away tears. He can still feel the bruising that’s going to come up around his eyes. He’s still dripping blood into his mouth and into Soldier Boy’s hair. He’s still furious.

“Fuck! Fucking asshole.”

It takes some effort and shuffling to get up on his knees, but he manages to pull both of Soldier Boy’s arms behind his back and cross his wrists so Dean can hold them in one hand. It helps that Soldier Boy has gone mostly limp and compliant now.

“Get on your fucking knees.”

He uses his free hand to push on Soldier Boy’s ass.

“Up! On your knees. Fucking present, Omega.”

Soldier Boy shifts, pulling his knees up under him.

“Look at you, all bent over like a good bitch.”

Dean hisses the last word, lets his fury colour it. Soldier Boy twists in the grip Dean has on his hands, but it’s weak. Dean can hold him.

“Ah ah ah, you’re gonna stay where I put you, Omega.”

Dean reaches down to stroke his cock, getting ready to line himself up. He can’t smell himself over Soldier Boy’s pheromones and the scent of slick, but the omega must be able to smell him, or at least the scent of fresh pre-cum, and shivers, trying to suppress a whine.

“You be as loud as you want, I wanna hear you beg for my knot.”

Dean lines up and pushes in. It’s tight and wet and hot and perfect. He doesn’t stop until he’s as deep as he can go, thighs pressed tight to Soldier Boy’s ass. Soldier Boy who is now shaking from head to toe and still trying to hold back his moans.

But Dean doesn’t have to hold back anything. He can groan and curse as much as he wants.

“Fuck. So tight, Omega, so good.”

He forces himself to hold still, to not pull out and slam back inside, to make Soldier Boy squirm and beg. And squirm Soldier Boy does, hips undulating back and forth in an effort to make Dean move. It’s tempting, so very tempting. But Dean’s pissed about his nose and he’s going to hear the omega beg.

Soldier Boy holds out for more than a minute, a whine building in his throat. Dean wants to put his hands there, just to feel the vibration. But just like Dean knew he would, Soldier Boy breaks.

“Please.”

His jaw is clenched so tight, the word is almost garbled beyond recognition, but Dean knows what it means.

“That’s it. Beg for it.”

Dean rewards Soldier Boy by pulling out and thrusting deep again.

“Alpha!”

“Yeah. This what you need? An alpha to put you in your place? Big powerful Supe, huh. Out there. This is what you need, though, isn’t it. Need to be bent over like a fucking bitch.”

“Fuck you, you worthless kn- don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop. Not 'til you’re hanging off my knot. If they could see you now. So fucking full of yourself in public, begging on your knees in here.”

“Alpha. Please. Gonna, gon-”

Soldier Boy freezes and then goes lax, the scent of omega cum filling Dean’s nose, even over the blood.

“Fuck. Get so damn tight cumming on my cock. You like this, huh? All that strength, those special Supe powers. But you’re on your knees for me, a random alpha you don’t even know. Better hope there isn’t some new intern manning the camera room today, recording the feed so he can jerk off to it every night.”

Soldier Boy goes tense.

“Ohhh, that scares you, doesn't it? I bet whoever's watching is tugging themselves raw at the sight of you. Face down, ass up. Begging for my knot while you cum all over yourself again and again.”

“You wish- Oh, god. Bet I’m the only one that’ll - fuck - have your knot and that’s by force, motherfu-uck-”

Another orgasm grips the omega and by extension Dean.

“You keep cumming on it, though, can’t hate it that much. You better hope this doesn’t get out, don’t want the world to see you begging to be bred.”

The mention of breeding makes Dean’s knot start to swell and makes Soldier Boy groan.

“Please. Alpha… please.”

Dean’s an inch from cumming, so close he can taste it.

“Can you even breed? Ten years I’ve been filling up your cunt, I’ve never got a ‘congratulations, daddy’ call.”

The omega whimpers.

“Do they keep you dosed? Or did they have you spayed?”

A twitch tells him it’s the latter. Something about the knowledge that one of the most powerful men in the world can be rendered societally worthless while Dean is whole sends fire up his spine.

“Makes sense. Can’t have you ruining the Supe genes any further, can they.”

Right there, right fucking there. His lip curls with malice.

“But damn, a disgrace to Supes by being an omega and a disgrace to omegas by being barren. Wouldn’t want your life. But hey, at least you get my knot to look forward to.”

Soldier Boy tenses up on another orgasm, a sob breaking out at the same time, and Dean follows him over the edge. His knot swells fully and ties them, cock pumping gush after gush of cum deep inside the omega.

As the initial high of his orgasm wears off, Dean guides them down to the mattress - away from the wet patches of slick and cum - and arranges the limp omega on his side, with Dean pressed against his back.

They’ll be tied for a little while yet, so Dean closes his eyes, tries to fight off the nausea welling up at what he just said. Soldier Boy brings out cruelty he didn’t know he had.

Deep, even breaths from the man almost - but not quite - in his arms. Soldier Boy will sleep until his heat flares again. At least Dean doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

He busies himself running his hand over as much bare skin as he can. From the way Soldier Boy melts at Dean’s touch, Dean doesn’t have to be a genius to work out that he’s touch-starved beyond belief. It's part of why Vought brings him in at all. Dean can’t imagine anyone but him getting close enough to touch Soldier Boy, much less try to comfort him. So he tries to give everything he can in these quiet times between knottings and then leaving. Hopefully his touch lingers for a little while and brings some peace to the man.

Dean wasn't joking when he said he hates everything about this place and everything that goes on in here, but he doesn’t hate the time locked in this room. Not just for the sex, but so he can have these quiet moments and delude himself that he makes a difference in Soldier Boy’s life, a tiny little difference. That he does some good instead of just bringing the man low with cruel words and a knot he never asked for.

He knots Soldier Boy a few more times, but it’s little more than fucking a fleshlight. The first time is explosive and violent. After that, omegas just need the sensation of a knot and fresh alpha cum to soothe the heat.

Or so Dean assumes. Soldier Boy is the only omega he’s ever seen through a heat and it’s been this way from the start. The only thing he knows for sure about omega heats is that without an alpha to knot them, they get sick. If they go long enough, they get really sick. The first time Dean was brought to Soldier Boy was proof of that; already unconscious when Dean was shoved into the room, it was the closest this thing had ever felt to true rape. But Dean had no choice, the scent of the half-dead omega had made his alpha feral. He was as much in control of his body as Soldier Boy at that point.

Past that, he’s flying blind.

He knows Sam is working with some research group to get funding and approval to try and formulate synthetic alpha cum so omegas won’t need to rely on alphas anymore. Maybe one day, the calls will stop and Dean and his cruel words will be forgotten entirely.

Eventually Soldier Boy cools to a normal temperature and his breathing shifts to real sleep instead of semi-consciousness. Dean’s knot shrinks for the last time and he can pull out. He could leave now, pace around like a caged animal until the door unlocks.

But he doesn’t. He stays pressed to Soldier Boy’s back, running his hand along now-clammy skin, trying to leave a memory of his touch there. He tries to ignore that he’s smearing the drops of his own blood along the way.

As much as this whole situation - Soldier Boy himself, even - brings out the worst in Dean, when it’s over, it brings out the protective side of him. Maybe it's part of being an alpha seeing an omega through heat, or maybe it’s just a part of Dean himself. The man never asked to be born an omega, never asked to be born a Supe, and never had a choice about his life. Dean can relate.

The hiss of the ante-chamber door makes Dean startle. Time to go.

He pulls away from Soldier Boy, who curls into himself a little as the air replaces Dean’s body heat. Keeping his hand on the man’s arms as long as possible, Dean gets to his knees.

“Stay safe out there, Ben. See you next time.”

He doesn’t look back, just lets the ante-chamber door close behind him while he redoes the poppers on the stupid crotch flap of the jump suit. Whoever watches the cameras has seen enough of his dick and he’s not going to walk back to the ‘dressing room’ where his clothes are with everything hanging out.

Being suddenly cut off from Soldier Boy’s scent leaves him reeling. He can still smell the slick on the fabric over his thighs, but mostly he can just smell his cum, his sweat, and the blood now dried on his face. He wrinkles his nose at the way he stinks and his whole face throbs with pain. Vought better get him a doctor before he leaves. They owe him.

The same lackey is waiting in the corridor. They don’t speak on the way back.

~~~

“-even breed? Ten years I’ve been filling up your cunt-”

Ben is still locked in the fuck-room, as he’s nicknamed it.

Vought won’t let him out until he’s been out of heat for a full one hundred and twenty hours. The fact that his heat breaks and finishes before they even let the alpha leave never seems to get through to them. Idiots.

They give him food, water, and access to the camera feed. That’s it. Like he’s a fucking prisoner.

So he watches the camera feed, again and again.

It disgusts him.

Seeing himself on the screen, bent over and begging, makes him want to hurl. He fights so hard - against his biology, his desires, his own omega. And this fucking nobody alpha gets picked off the street by Vought and cuts through it all. Strips him of everything that’s Soldier Boy, even everything that’s Ben, and leaves him a panting, needy mess, nothing but instinct and omega.

The alpha meets Ben’s fury with his own cruelty, though, and it’s exactly what Ben needs. He fights and he’s overpowered. He can just about accept that; he can give in to his omega knowing the alpha earned him.

He stops the tape as the alpha moves to lay him down after the first knotting. He can’t watch this part. He’d have to hunt the alpha down and murder him, and then Vought would have to find a new alpha and they wouldn’t be anywhere near as good.

He pulls up his email. The message won’t be sent until his laptop is allowed back online but that’s okay. It’ll get there.

‘Winchester,

Regarding your attendance at our bi-annual meeting. Your performance was somewhat lacking, as always. I expect to see improvement by our next meeting.

Much obliged for your continued collaboration.’

~~~

A few days later, when Dean is back on his side of the country and elbow deep in Baby’s engine, getting her spic and span after two cross country treks, his phone beeps.

He wipes his hands on a rag and pulls out his phone. A smirk lifts the corner of his mouth.

A thank you from Soldier Boy is almost double-speak, but Dean can decode.

It’s nice to be appreciated.

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #soldier boy #dean winchester smut #soldier boy smut #dean winchester x soldier boy #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #the boys smut

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canmom · 6 months

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canmom's notes on fixing the colours

ok so if you've been following along on this blog for the last week or two i've been banging on about colour calibration. and i feel like it would be good to sum up what i've learned in a poast!

quick rundown on colour spaces

So. When you represent colour on a computer, you just have some numbers. Those numbers are passed to the monitor to tell it to turn some tiny lights up and down. The human visual system is capable of seeing a lot of colours, but your monitor can only display some of them. That's determined by its primaries, basically the exact colour* of its red, green and blue lights.

(*if you're wondering, the primaries are specified in terms of something called the CIELAB colour space, which is a model of all the different colours that humans can possibly see, devised by experiments in the early-mid 20th century where the subjects would turn lights at different frequencies up and down until they appeared visually the same. Through this, we mapped out how eyes respond to light, enabling basically everything that follows. Most human eyes tend to respond in pretty close to identical ways - of course, some people are colourblind, which adds an extra complication!)

Now, the problem we face is that every display is different. In particular, different displays have different primaries. The space in between the primaries is the gamut - the set of all colours that a display can represent. You can learn more about this concept on this excellent interactive page by Bartosz Ciechanowski.

The gamut is combined with other things like a white point and a gamma function to map numbers nonlinearly to amounts of light. All these bits of info in combination declare exactly what colour your computer should display for any given triplet of numbers. We call this a colour space.

There are various standard sets of primaries, the most famous being the ITU-R Rec.709 primaries used in sRGB, first defined in 1993, often just called the sRGB primaries - this is a fairly restricted colour space, intended to be an easy target for monitor manufacturers and to achieve some degree of colour consistency on the web (lol).

Since then, a much wider gamut called Rec.2020 has recently been defined for 'HDR' video. This is a very wide gamut, and no existing displays can actually show it in full. Besides that, there are various other colour spaces such as AdobeRGB and P3, which are used in art and design and video editing.

What you see above is something called a 'chromaticity diagram'. the coordinate system is CIE xyY with fixed Y. The curved upper edge to the shape is the line of monochromatic colours (colours created by a single frequency of light); everything other colour must be created by combining multiple frequencies of light. (Note that the colours inside the shape are not the actual colours of those points in CIE XY, they're mapped into sRGB.)

In this case, the red, green and blue dots are the primaries of my display. Since they are outside the green triangle marked sRGB, it qualifies as a 'wide gamut' display which can display more vivid colours.

Sidebar: you might ask why we didn't define the widest possible gamut we could think of at the start of all this. Well, besides consistency, the problem is that you only have so many bits per channel. For a given bit depth (e.g. 8 bits per channel per pixel), you have a finite number of possible colours you can display. Any colours in between get snapped to the nearest rung of the ladder. The upshot is that if you use a higher gamut, you need to increase the bit depth in order to avoid ugly colour banding, which means your images take up more space and take more time to process. But this is why HDR videos in Rec.2020 should always be using at least 10 bits per colour channel.

in order to display consistent colours between different computers, you need a profile of how your monitor displays colour. Yhis is something that has to be measured empirically, because even two monitors of the same model will be slightly different. You get this information by essentially taking a little gadget which has a lens and a sensitive, factory-calibrated colour meter, and holding it against your screen, then making the screen display various colours to measure what light actually comes out of it. This information is packed into a file called an ICC profile.

(Above is the one I got, the Spyder X2. I didn't put a lot of thought into this, and unfortunately it turns out that the Spyder X2 is not yet supported by programs like DisplayCal. The Spyder software did a pretty good job though.)

Wonderfully, if you have two different ICC profiles, and you want to display the same colour in each space, you can do some maths to map one into the other. So, to make sure that a picture created on one computer looks the same on another computer, you need two things: the colour space (ICC profile) of the image and the colour space (ICC profile) of the screen.

Now different operating systems handle colour differently, but basically for all three major operating systems there is somewhere you can set 'here is the icc profile for this screen'. You might think that's the whole battle: calibrate screen, get ICC profile, you're done! Welcome to the world of consistent colour.

Unfortunately we're not done.

the devil in the details

The problem is the way applications tell the operating system about colour is... spotty, inconsistent, unreliable. Applications can either present their colours in a standard space called sRGB, and let the OS handle the rest - or they can bypass that entirely and just send their numbers straight to the monitor without regard for what space it's in.

Then we have some applications that are 'colour managed', meaning you can tell the application about an ICC profile (or some other colour space representation), and it will handle converting colours into that space. This allows applications to deal with wider colour gamuts than sRGB/Rec.709, which is very restricted, without sacrificing consistency between different screens.

So to sum up, we have three types of program:

programs which only speak sRGB and let the OS correct the colours

programs which aren't colour aware and talk straight to the monitor without any correction (usually games)

programs which do colour correction themselves and talk straight to the monitor.

That last category is the fiddly one. It's a domain that typically includes art programs, video editors and web browsers. Some of them will read your ICC profile from the operating system, some have to be explicitly told which one to use.

Historically, most monitors besides the very high end were designed to support sRGB colours and not much more. However, recently it's become easier to get your hands on a wide gamut screen. This is theoretically great because it means we can use more vivid colours, but... as always the devil is in the details. What we want is that sRGB colours stay the same, but we have the option to reach for the wider gamut deliberately.

Conversely, when converting between colour spaces, you have to make a decision of what to do with colours that are 'out of gamut' - colours that one space can represent and another space can't. There's no 'correct' way to do this, but there are four standard approaches, which make different tradeoffs of what is preserved and what is sacrificed. So if you look at an image defined in a wide colour space such as Rec.2020, you need to use one of these to put it into your screen's colour space. This is handled automatically in colour managed applications, but it's good to understand what's going on!

(*You may notice a difference in games even if they're not colour managed. This is because one of the things the calibration does is update the 'gamma table' on your graphics card, which maps from numeric colour values to brightness. Since the human eye is more sensitive to differences between dark colours, this uses a nonlinear function - a power law whose exponent is called gamma. That nonlinear function also differs between screens, and your graphics card can be adjusted to compensate and make sure everyone stays on the standard gamma 2.2. Many games offer you a slider to adjust the gamma, as a stopgap measure to deal with the fact that your computer's screen probably isn't calibrated.)

For what follows, any time you need the ICC profile, Windows users should look in C:\Windows\System32\spool\drivers\color. MacOS and Linux users, see this page for places it might be. Some applications can automatically detect the OS's ICC profile, but if not, that's where you should look.

on the web

Theoretically, on the web, colours are supposed to be specified in sRGB if not specified otherwise. But when you put an image on the web, you can include an ICC profile along with it to say exactly what colours to use. Both Firefox and Chrome are colour-managed browsers, and able to read your ICC profile right from the operating system. So an image with a profile should be handled correctly in both (with certain caveats in Chrome).

However, Firefox by default for some reason doesn't do any correction on any colours that don't have a profile, instead passing them through without correction. This can be fixed by changing a setting in about:config: gfx.color_management.mode. If you set this to 1 instead of the default 2, Firefox will assume colours are in sRGB unless it's told otherwise, and correct them.

Here is a great test page to see if your browser is handling colour correctly.

Chrome has fewer options to configure. by default it's almost correctly colour-managed but not quite. So just set the ICC on your OS and you're as good as it's gonna get. The same applies to Electron apps, such as Discord.

To embed a colour profile in an image, hopefully your art program has the ability to do this when saving, but if not, you can use ImageMagick on the command line (see below). Some websites will strip metadata including ICC profile - Tumblr, fortunately, does not.

For the rest of this post I'm going to talk about how to set up colour management in certain programs I use regularly (Krita, Blender, mpv, and games).

in Krita

Krita makes it pretty easy: you go into the settings and give it the ICC profile of your monitor. You can create images in a huge variety of spaces and bit depths and gamma profiles. When copying and pasting between images inside Krita, it will convert it for you.

The tricky thing to consider is pasting into Krita from outside. By default, your copy-paste buffer does not have colour space metadata. Krita gives you the option to interpret it with your monitor's profile, or as sRGB. I believe the correct use is: if you're copying and pasting an image from the web, then sRGB is right; if you're pasting a screenshot, it has already been colour corrected, you should use 'as on monitor' so Krita will convert it back into the image's colour space.

in Blender

Blender does not use ICC profiles, but a more complicated system called OpenColorIO. Blender supports various models of mapping between colour spaces, including Filmic and ACES, to go from its internal scene-referred HDR floating-point working space (basically, a space that measures how much light there is in absolute terms) to other spaces such as sRGB. By default, Blender assumes it can output to sRGB, P3, etc. without any further correction.

So. What we need to do is add another layer after that which takes the sRGB data and corrects it for our screen. This requires something called a Lookup Table (LUT), which is basically just a 3D texture that maps colours to other colours. You can generate a LUT using a program called DisplayCal, which can also be used for display calibration - note that you don't use the main DisplayCal program for this, but instead a tool called 3DLUT Maker that's packaged along with it. see this Stack Overflow thread for details.

Then, you describe in the OpenColorIO file how to use that LUT, defining a colour space.

The procedure described in the thread recommends you set up colour calibration as an additional view transform targeting sRGB. This works, but strictly speaking it's not a correct use of the OpenColorIO model. We should also set up our calibrated screen as an additional display definition, and attach our new colour spaces to that display. Also, if you want to use the 'Filmic' View Transform with corrected colours (or indeed any other), you need to define that in the OpenColorIO file too. Basically, copy whatever transform you want, and insert an extra line with the 3D LUT.

Here's how it looks for me:

in games (using ReShade)

So I mentioned above that games do not generally speaking do any colour correction beyond the option to manually adjust a gamma slider. However, by using a post-processing injection framework such as ReShade, you can correct colours in games.

If you want to get the game looking as close to the original artistic intent as possible, you can use the LUT generator to generate a PNG lookup table, save it in the Reshade textures folder, then you load it into the LUT shader that comes packaged with Reshade. Make sure to set the width, height and number of tiles correctly or you'll get janked up results.

However... that might not be what you want. Especially with older games, there is often a heavy green filter or some other weird choice in the colour design. Or maybe you don't want to follow the 'original artistic intent' and would rather enjoy the full vividness your screen is capable of displaying. (I certainly like FFXIV a lot better with a colour grade applied to it using the full monitor gamut.)

A 3D Lookup Table can actually be used for more than simply calibrating colour to match a monitor - it is in general a very powerful tool for colour correction. A good workflow is to open a screenshot in an image editor along with a base lookup table, adjust the colours in certain ways, and save the edited lookup table as an image texture; you can then use it to apply colour correction throughout the game. This procedure is described here.

Whatever approach you take, when you save screenshots with Reshade, it will not include any colour information. If you want screenshots to look like they do in-game when displayed in a properly colour managed application, you need to attach your monitor's ICC profile to the image. You can do this with an ImageMagick command:

magick convert "{path to screenshot}" -strip -profile "{path to ICC profile}" "{output file name}.webp"

This also works with TIFF and JPEG; for some reason I couldn't get it to work with PNG (you generate a PNG but no colour profile is attached.)

It's possible to write a post-save command in ReShade which could be used to attach this colour space info. If I get round to doing that, I'll edit into this post.

video

In MPV, you can get a colour-corrected video player by setting an appropriate line in mpv.conf, assuming you're using vo=gpu or vo=gpu-next (recommended). icc-profile-auto=yes should automatically load the monitor ICC profile from the operating system, or you can specify a specific one with icc-profile={path to ICC profile}.

For watching online videos, it seems that neither Firefox nor Chrome applies colour correction, even though the rest of the browser is colour-managed. If you don't want to put up with this, you can open Youtube videos in MPV, which internally downloads them using Youtube-DL or yt-dlp. This is inconvenient! Still haven't found a way to make it colour-corrected in-browser.

For other players like VLC or MPC-HC, I'm not so familiar with the procedure, you'll need to research this on your own.

what about HDR?

HDR is a marketing term, and a set of standards for monitor features (the VESA DisplayHDR series), but it does also refer to a new set of protocols around displaying colour, known as Rec. 2100. This defines the use of a 'perceptual quantiser' function in lieu of the old gamma function. HDR screens are able to support extreme ranges of brightness using techniques like local dimming and typically have a wider colour gamut.

If your screen supports it, Windows has a HDR mode which (I believe) switches the output to use Rec.2100. The problem is deciding what to do with SDR content on your screen (which is to say most things) - you have very little control over anything besides brightness, and for some reason Windows screws up the gamma. Turning on HDR introduced truly severe colour banding all over the shop for me.

My colorimeter claims to be able to profile high brightness/hdr screens, but I haven't tested the effect of profiling in HDR mode yet. There is also a Windows HDR calibration tool, but this is only available on the Microsoft store, which makes it a real pain to set up if you've deleted that from your operating system in a fit of pique. (Ameliorated Edition is great until it isn't.)

Anyway, if I get around to profiling my monitor in HDR mode, I will report back. However, for accurate SDR colour, the general recommendation seems to be to simply turn it off. Only turn it on if you want to watch content specifically authored for HDR (some recent games, and HDR videos are available on some platforms like Youtube). It's a pain.

is this all really worth the effort?

Obviously I've really nerded out about all this, and I know the likely feeling you get looking at this wall of text is 'fuck this, I'll just put up with it'. But my monitor's gamma was pretty severely off, and when I was trying to make a video recently I had no idea that my screen was making the red way more saturated and deep than I would see on most monitors.

If you're a digital artist or photographer, I think it's pretty essential to get accurate colour. Of course the pros will spend thousands on a high end screen which may have built in colour correction, but even with a screen at the level I'm looking at (costing a few hundred quid), you can do a lot to improve how it looks 'out of the box'.

So that's the long and short of it. I hope this is useful to someone to have all of this in one place!

I don't know if we'll ever reach a stage where most monitors in use are calibrated, so on some level it's a bit of a fool's errand, but at least with calibration I have some more hope that what I put in is at least on average close to what comes out the other end.

#colour #color #color management #blender #krita #firefox #chrome #mpv #3dcg

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