#Which would be cool if I could SEE the outfits without MOTION BLUR

[dhaampyr]

fun fact clove is the only one of the first book careers not to have a gallery on her wiki page

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 70

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Link to ongoing Taida Translations

Chapter 70: Appetite

Can't help it anymore. When he heard Qin Budai say this, Lin Qiushi felt a chill deep in his bones. The person before him wore fresh blood on his lips, and stared at him with a pair of silent, red-veined eyes. The look that was so clearly stifling something lifted a light layer of goosebumps along Lin Qiushi's arms. All of Lin Qiushi's instincts were ringing the alarm—that the person in front of him was very, very dangerous.

Qin Budai gradually got closer and closer. His footsteps finally halted before Lin Qiushi, and he slowly called out Lin Qiushi's name. His tone was both cloying and cold, sending very mixed signals.

At that moment, Lin Qiushi wanted to turn and run. But he also felt that the instant he left his back open, something completely out of his control would happen. So he thoroughly smothered that urge to escape and hide, and instead said, "Qin Budai, are you alright?"

Qin Budai smiled eerily at Lin Qiushi. "I'm fine." It probably would've been better if he hadn't smiled at all; it only made his expression seem more twisted.

Just as the two stood in stalemate, Chen Fei's voice came warily from outside the kitchen. "What are you two doing?"

Chen Fei reached and flipped the light switch on the wall. The entire kitchen lit up, and he got a good look at the scene before him.

"Qin Budai— What are you doing?" His gaze fell on that slab of meat Qin Budai had been chewing on, and the moment after he asked this question, he seemed to comprehend exactly what Qin Budai had done. There was a brief hitch in his breath. "You just came out of a door?"

Qin Budai slowly nodded.

"Hungry?" Chen Fei sounded very calm, like he saw nothing wrong at all with the scene before him. "Let me cook you something to eat."

Qin Budai didn't speak, just turned and left.

Watching him go, Chen Fei didn't stop him, just sighed lightly.

"What in the world happened?" Lin Qiushi wasn't as experienced as Chen Fei, and couldn't understand what was going on with Qin Budai. Honestly, Qin Budai’s current state reminded Lin Qiushi of the monsters inside the doors.

"He's probably been affected by the door world." Chen Fei went to the fridge, and pulled out a steak. He really was planning to cook it for Qin Budai. "The human psyche is a fragile thing. After a strong shock, it can be prone to disorder." After saying this, he glanced over at Lin Qiushi. "Not everyone can accept things as calmly as you can."

Lin Qiushi didn't know what to say.

"The worst situation is when everybody else is dead, but the door and the key haven't appeared." Chen Fei lit the stove, heated the oil, and set the steak into the pan with a sizzle. "You're trapped alone inside the door, not knowing how long you'll be stuck there…"

His voice got lower and lower.

It was indeed nightmarish.

To be trapped inside alone. Just the thought of it sent chills throughout the body. Lin Qiushi leaned against the threshold. "Qin Budai… will be okay, right?"

Chen Fei shook his head. "I don't know."

Lin Qiushi, "what do you mean you don't know?"

Chen Fei, "I mean that I don't know if he'll get better, if he can separate reality from the world of the doors."

Lin Qiushi frowned. "If he can't?"

Chen Fei's motions paused, and a self-mocking smile appeared across his face. "If he can't? If he can't… Then he's done for."

Killing people inside the door was fine, but in reality, there were laws and sanctions in place.

Plus, people like this became very dangerous. They may not murder, but they still may commit some other drastic crime. People who could not distinguish between the inside and outside could not continue staying at the mansion. Of course, this wasn't something Chen Fei told Lin Qiushi, because he didn't think it necessary.

The steak was done. Chen Fei plated and brought it to the dining table outside, handing it to Qin Budai.

Qin Budai cut the steak apart with a fork and knife, but his peripherals lingered on Lin Qiushi. He still felt hungry, and the steak before him was incapable of satiating that full-body, anxious gluttony he felt. But he didn't dare make it apparent—could only keep his head down, pretending to be happily chowing down.

Chen Fei watched from the side. Lin Qiushi noticed his brow furrowed in a knot, and a certain scrutiny in his eyes, like he was in the middle of diagnosing Qin Budai's condition.

Chen Fei asked, "what did you see inside the door?"

At the mention of the door, Qin Budai couldn't help a whole-body shiver. He opened his mouth, but said nothing even after a moment, like words couldn't possibly describe the world he'd seen.

Chen Fei, "hm?"

Qin Budai's reply was vague. "It was a very scary world. There wasn't much to eat. I was hungry the whole time."

Chen Fei didn't speak, sinking into thought.

Qin Budai finished the steak, and very politely bid them good night, returning upstairs to sleep.

Lin Qiushi stayed where he was, watching him go. He still felt there was something off with Qin Budai, but he couldn’t concretely say what it was.

Chen Fei said, "I'll ask Ruan-ge tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi, "ask him what?"

Chen Fei sighed, "which world Qin Budai went into, of course." Qin Budai was a newbie, still entering the first round of doors right now. He didn't have Lin Qiushi's luck—the group only took him through a couple of doors, and left him on his own for the most recent one.

Lin Qiushi nodded his agreement.

That night, Lin Qiushi didn't sleep very well. His mind, as he tossed and turned, was filled with the image of Qin Budai eating that raw meat. To tell the truth, after seeing that scene, even his sense of distinction between reality and the world of the doors felt blurred. It was an awful feeling, and left him filled with unease.

The next day, Lin Qiushi went downstairs sporting twin bags under his eyes.

Cheng Qianli had just come back from walking Toast, and Toast was twitching its fat little butt around, chasing and playing with Chestnut.

Cheng Qianli saw Lin Qiushi's severe lack of sleep, and said, "what happened? You look like you haven't woken up yet."

Lin Qiushi yawned. "It's nothing. I stayed up too late last night."

Cheng Qianli, "oh. Come eat breakfast then. My brother just cooked."

Cheng Yixie made porridge, along with a few small dishes. He was sitting and slowly eating at the table. Lin Qiushi went over to say good morning. Then he also grabbed a bowl to eat.

The people inside the mansion all began to gradually wake. Lin Qiushi saw Chen Fei. Then he also saw Qin Budai.

Qin Budai no longer had that scary aura from last night about him. He'd changed into a fresh outfit, and wore a smile. He approached Lin Qiushi and said, "good morning."

Lin Qiushi, "good morning."

"Sorry to scare you last night," Qin Budai said. "I'd just come out a door, and hadn't quite gotten myself together." He smiled, eyes rainbowing in a friendly expression. "I really am sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Lin Qiushi said. "You've… gotten yourself together now?"

Qin Budai nodded, indicating he has.

Chen Fei sat next to them, watching the two interact. He was examining Qin Budai without giving anything away, clearly not completely believing Qin Budai's excuse.

Not long after Ruan Nanzhu also came down. He maintained his typical aloofness, and made to head out after eating, before Chen Fei stopped him.

"Ruan-ge," Chen Fei said. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded, and the two went off into a corner.

Lin Qiushi knew Chen Fei was likely telling Ruan Nanzhu about what happened with Qin Budai. To tell the truth, the current Qin Budai didn't seem off at all. It was difficult to link him to the person manically consuming raw meat the night before. But however his psyche was actually doing, if he'd gotten better, Lin Qiushi couldn't be the judge. So he thought this matter was better left to Chen Fei.

Lin Qiushi finished eating, and returned to his room.

Spring had just ripened. Sunlight spilled in brilliance, a cool breeze caressed, and Lin Qiushi sat at his window, turning on his computer to browse that forum open only to people who'd been inside the doors.

There were lots of interesting posts on this forum. Lin Qiushi had already developed the habit of reading through them daily. Casually, he plucked a piece of candy from his table and popped it in his mouth. He moved the mouse and began browsing the posts.

The posts were a mess, and full of strange tales.

Some discussed the world inside the doors, others mentioned urban legends. Others still organized same-city meet-ups.

Lin Qiushi read through them with fascination.

Because they'd just come from a door, Ruan Nanzhu hadn't organized any activities for Lin Qiushi, just letting him rest.

Lin Qiushi thought that wasting away a day like this actually felt quite comfortable. He ate lunch, took a nap, and let the day pass by just like that.

After Chen Fei spoke to Ruan Nanzhu that morning, the two left the mansion. Nobody knew where they'd gone off to.

But Lin Qiushi was already used to them appearing and disappearing at will, and wasn't curious at all.

Cheng Qianli and Cheng Yixie though, were gone as well. Lin Qiushi guessed Cheng Yixie had brought Cheng Qianli into some lower level doors for training.

There was still Yi Manman, Lu Yanxue, and Qin Budai inside the mansion. The four of them ate a simple dinner, and Lin Qiushi retired to his room to rest.

After a shower, Lin Qiushi lied on his bed playing sudoku. This inconsequential game was always quick to calm his mood, and also had the benefit of making him sleepy.

As he gradually filled the boxes, however, he heard a knock at his door.

"Who is it?" Lin Qiushi went to door and pulled it open, to find Qin Budai standing there.

Qin Budai said, "hi. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lin Qiushi blinked. "Right now?"

Qin Budai nodded.

Lin Qiushi hesitated. "Sure… Let's go talk in the study. Give me a second, I'll come over after I change." He was in his pajamas after all.

Qin Budai quietly watched Lin Qiushi. Currently, Lin Qiushi was dressed in white cotton pajamas, and his long elegant neck and his pretty collarbones were all on display. Lin Qiushi was handsome, with a gentle temperament. He looked instantly easy to get along with. He also looked… tasty.

Qin Budai suddenly licked his lips.

Lin Qiushi eyed him warily. "Qin Budai?" He felt there was something off about the person in front of him.

Qin Budai said, "I only need five minutes. I'll be quick." As he spoke, he squeezed his way through Lin Qiushi's bedroom door.

Lin Qiushi noticed his motions, and took a step back, moving into a defensive position. "Do you need something?"

Qin Budai watched Lin Qiushi. In his eyes surfaced an indescribable hunger.

Goosebumps. Lin Qiushi, "Qin Budai?"

Qin Budai, "I…"

But before he'd finished speaking, he was already lunging at Lin Qiushi.

Though Lin Qiushi had been prepared, Qin Budai still ran into him straight on with great force, knocking Lin Qiushi flat onto the bed.

Lin Qiushi, "Qin—"

Just as the name left his lips, Qin Budai's fingers gripped tight over his mouth. This wasn't the strength of a human at all—Qin Budai could force down all of Lin Qiushi's struggling with a single hand. Lin Qiushi's eyes widened, watching Qin Budai's covetous gaze fixate on his neck.

"Just one taste," Qin Budai spoke lightly. "I'll just have one taste…" He bent down, and began lapping along Lin Qiushi's chin.

Lin Qiushi remembered the slab of meat that Qin Budai tore apart the night before, and began struggling anew with all his strength. But Qin Budai's strength made his efforts seem like a mayfly throwing itself against the trunk of a tree.

Qin Budai, staring at Lin Qiushi's throat, swallowed. He parted his lips, revealing the white rows of teeth, and went to bite…

"Mmph…" Lin Qiushi continued to fight.

Just as he felt the cold touch of Qin Budai's teeth, there came knocking at the door. Fear peering through his expression, Qin Budai glanced at the door.

Dong, dong, dong. The knocks continued.

Lin Qiushi met Qin Budai's gaze. He'd thought that now somebody was here, Qin Budai would release him—but instead, there was resolution in Qin Budai's eyes.

"Sorry," Qin Budai spoke lowly right next to Lin Qiushi's ear. "You look too appetizing. I really… can't help it anymore. Even if I'm discovered, I don't want to let go…" His teeth remained on Lin Qiushi's neck, and began to apply pressure.

Lin Qiushi's eyes shot wide open as he felt the dull pain spread along his skin. He didn't think Qin Budai would actually bite.

With a loud bang!, the locked door was kicked open.

Qin Budai, lying over Lin Qiushi's body, was seized by a pair of hands, lifted up, and brutally thrown against the wall. Qin Budai shouted in pain, while Lin Qiushi fumbled to sit up in bed. He saw Ruan Nanzhu, with a chilly expression.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't speak. He approached Qin Budai, taking a green bronze ornament off a side table as he went, then grabbed Qin Budai's chin to pry his mouth open.

Terrified, Qin Budai was trembling all over.

Ruan Nanzhu's tone dipped to cold frost. He said, "if you like eating so much, have at it." Then he shoved the thing right into Qin Budai's mouth, breaking off two of Qin Budai's teeth along the way.

Qin Budai completely fainted from the pain. It was only then that Ruan Nanzhu released his hand, and returned to Lin Qiushi. There was a deep furrow in his brow, and he seemed to be in a terrible mood.

"Alright?"

Lin Qiushi, "I'm fine."

He said, "I was careless."

He hadn't thought that Qin Budai would attack him under circumstances like this. Though Chen Fei had already warned Lin Qiushi, he'd still underestimated the effect the door had on Qin Budai.

Ruan Nanzhu stared at Lin Qiushi.

Lin Qiushi was made horribly self-conscious by his gaze. He noticed it was fixed on his neck, and so reached to touch. It was only then that he noticed the teeth mark Qin Budai left on his throat… Though no skin had been broken, it still hurt.

Did this need a tetanus shot or what… As Lin Qiushi was thinking this, Ruan Nanzhu suddenly bent down over him.

Startled by Ruan Nanzhu's motions, Lin Qiushi was just about to ask what he was doing, when he caught Lin Qiushi firmly by the arms—the next moment, the spot where he'd been bitten was being roughly rubbed at. Lin Qiushi's first reaction was that Ruan Nanzhu had somehow been infected by Qin Budai's abnormal condition, and so shoved hard and shouted in pain: "Ruan Nanzhu—calm down!! It's me, it's Lin Qiushi!!"

Ruan Nanzhu bit. Only after staying there for a handful of seconds did he release the bite, looking down with satisfaction at the mark that was now covered over by his mark on Lin Qiushi's neck. Likely because he'd heard Lin Qiushi's shouts, he spoke evenly, "I know you're Lin Qiushi."

"Were you contaminated?" Lin Qiushi clasped his neck, hissing at the pain. "What did you bite me for?!"

Ruan Nanzhu spat out a single word: "Disinfection."

Lin Qiushi, "…" What the hell was wrong with Ruan Nanzhu.

After saying this, Ruan Nanzhu dragged off the fainted Qin Budai and left. Lin Qiushi looked over the mess of his room and the broken door, and for a moment didn't know what to do at all.

Qin Budai's bite hadn't torn skin, but Ruan Nanzhu's had. Lin Qiushi inspected his wound, warily wondering he needed to go get a rabies shot or something. He'd never been bitten by a person before, and so searched online for what to do.

Turned out he should've left it alone. The search left Lin Qiushi scared out of his wits, thinking he was likely going to kick it that very night.

And so bright and early the next morning Lin Qiushi rushed to the hospital. After taking a look at his wound, the doctor said, with meaning, "you youngsters need to control yourselves."

Lin Qiushi, "…" Control what, control their diets?

The doctor said, "you don't need a vaccine, just a disinfection should be fine. As long as the person who bit you doesn't have any infectious diseases there shouldn't be any problems."

Lin Qiushi, "but the search engine said…"

The doctor slapped the table. "Can you all stop going to the search engine when you're sick? Don't you just feel more terminal the more you use it?" The doctor looked maybe thirty-one, thirty-two—still quite young. He prescribed Lin Qiushi some bit of medicine, and waved him off in disgust.

Lin Qiushi returned to the mansion.

After Qin Budai was taken away last night, Lin Qiushi didn't ask what would be done with him. Today, he was nowhere to be seen. Lin Qiushi didn't see Ruan Nanzhu either, and so went to ask Chen Fei in private.

Chen Fei looked at the wound on Lin Qiushi's neck, and sighed: "It was my fault, I shouldn't have left him on his own. I thought he'd at least be able to bear it, but who knew his self-control would be so awful?"

Lin Qiushi, "so where is he now?" The way Ruan Nanzhu dragged him off last night looked like he was being taken straight to the crematorium.

"He's been sent somewhere else," Chen Fei said. "There's a place dedicated to people like him. After being affected by the doors, the way he acts in reality will be off, so he needs counseling."

Whether or not the counseling would work was another story. But this sort of person was dangerous wherever they put him. Had Ruan Nanzhu not shown up last night, Qin Budai might have straight up bitten Lin Qiushi to death.

Lin Qiushi, "oh…" He thought for a bit, before asking quietly, "and Nanzhu? How come I haven't seen him around?"

Chen Fei, "I think he went out for an errand."

Then he asked, "is your wound alright though? He broke skin. Did you get it checked out at the hospital?"

Lin Qiushi thought that no skin would've been broken had Ruan Nanzhu not given him that extra bite. And he'd claimed it was disinfection, but his bite was way harsher—it was ridiculous. Not that Lin Qiushi said any of this out loud. He only shook his head to indicate he was alright, and that he'd already been to the hospital.

After that, Qin Budai disappeared from the mansion.

With great synchronicity, nobody asked where he'd gone. Even Cheng Qianli, who was least capable of reading people, didn't mention him again.

They all seemed already prepared for sudden goodbyes.

Only three days after the incident did Lin Qiushi see Ruan Nanzhu again. At that point his wound had scabbed over. He came in from walking Toast with Cheng Qianli, and saw Ruan Nanzhu sitting in the living room eating some fruit.

Hearing their footsteps, Ruan Nanzhu only glanced up, looking them over with a placid gaze.

"Ruan-ge, you're back," Cheng Qianli greeted happily.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu replied. Then he looked at Lin Qiushi.

For some reason, Lin Qiushi felt a bit self-conscious. He'd felt that Ruan Nanzhu had been off that night, and was still a bit strange today.

"It's healed?" Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

Lin Qiushi knew Ruan Nanzhu was asking after his wound, and nodded. "It's healed."

"Oh," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Maybe Lin Qiushi was overthinking it, but he thought he heard a hint of disappointment in Ruan Nanzhu's tone.

Lin Qiushi continued, "thank you for that night…" Had it not been for Ruan Nanzhu, he would likely be dead already.

Ruan Nanzhu, "don't worry about it."

Lin Qiushi hesitated. "Qin Budai, will he get better?"

Ruan Nanzhu slowly chewed the fruit in his mouth, swallowed, and then answered Lin Qiushi's question: "I don't know. He determines his own fortune."

Lin Qiushi, "things like this had happened before?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "like clockwork."

Lin Qiushi didn't think he'd get this sort of answer.

"Out of a hundred newbies, ninety-nine will develop mental conditions." Ruan Nanzhu stood. "The last one is Cheng Qianli."

Hearing this off to the side, Cheng Qianli looked confused, and asked, "what do you mean the last one is Cheng Qianli?"

Affectionately, Lin Qiushi petted Cheng Qianli's head. "Nothing, Ruan-ge's just complimenting you."

Cheng Qianli, "oh. Heheheh."

Lin Qiushi thought that to be on the same level of foolish as Cheng Qianli was actually not so easy…

"Prepare yourself," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Cheng Yixie's ninth door is opening soon."

Lin Qiushi's heart jolted. "I'm going too?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "you don't want to go?"

Lin Qiushi, "I… I don't know…"

But Ruan Nanzhu didn't force it, only spoke evenly, "it's fine if you don't want to. You have three days to think about it."

Lin Qiushi nodded in acceptance.

Once he'd said this, Ruan Nanzhu turned and left. Watching him go, Cheng Qianli said he didn't know why, but he felt that recently, the feeling Ruan-ge gave off was different than before.

Lin Qiushi asked, "what's different about it?" To tell the truth, after going through the Qin Budai incident, he realized he was too complacent in the real world. Had this been inside the doors, he'd have never let Qin Budai in.

"I don't know." Cheng Qianli scratched at his foolish head. "I can't really say…"

Lin Qiushi eyed Cheng Qianli, and for a moment fretted how the boy before him was supposed to pass through the rest of those doors. He could too easily imagine Cheng Yixie, with his heart completely broken with worry for his foolish younger brother.

Author's Note:

I'm taking advantage of the good weather today to wash my cat. Everybody wish blessings of peace upon me.

[Ch. 69] | [Ch. 71]

[longitud-de-onda]

{un veneno} may: storm

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; its been weeks since you slept in your own bed, the nights with javier blurring together to become moments with one another every second you weren’t working. rating; nc-17 warnings; oral sex, smut, angst, (and some fluff, we’ve got it all!), fear of thunder/mild anxiety attack word count; 3.6k january, february, march, april

un veneno masterlist

Your vision was still blurry with sleep as Javier’s tongue slid between your folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. One hand had your thigh pinned to the mattress while your free leg was hooked over Javier’s shoulder as he gripped your hip. How he was making you feel this way without his hands on you, you had no idea. You were just thankful that he was a well-experienced man.

His tongue brushed over your clit and your whole body convulsed, hips tilting up searching for more contact. And Javier provided. You could feel your core tightening with arousal, and your little noises increased in volume and frequency. Then his mouth was suctioned around your clit and he started sucking and you weren’t even orgasming yet but your vision almost cut to white with the overload of information firing up your nerves.

“Fuck, fuck, Javi!” you screamed, your legs spasming.

The pressure on your thigh increased, and you were amazed at how strong those arms were. As you felt yourself teetering on the edge, about to spill over, Javier pulled back, fully releasing yourself from his dominating tongue.

The sound of your heavy breaths filled the air, sharp exhales punctuating the silent Monday morning air.

“Javi,” you whispered, “Why? Please... keep going.”

“You’re going to be late for work, cariño.” His words sent puffs of air across your cunt and you moaned.

“You can’t just stop,” you whined. He was right but you didn’t care. Ever since he pushed you onto his bed a few weeks ago you couldn’t get enough of each other. You hadn’t ever spoken about what was going on, content to keep on fucking each others’ brains out every chance you could get.

“You lose your job, and then what?” Javier asked, and you knew by then he was teasing you.

“Just shut it and finish me off,” you giggled before you were cut off by Javier’s tongue returning to you. Within seconds he had you worked up again, your one leg straining against his grip, the other pushing him closer into you.

The heat radiated out from your core up your spine and down your limbs, filling your body with a tingling sensation, itching to be let out. You grasped at the sheets beneath you, trying to find hold to still yourself as Javier’s motions quickened. Before long you were tightening up, both hands flying to his soft curls, causing him to hum against you. It was that hum that sent you over, the orgasm coursing through you in waves.

It left you limp on the bed, Javier still mouthing at you until you let go of his head. His hold on your leg was loose, his thumb tracing little circles on the delicate skin of your thigh. He stared up at the rise and fall of your bare chest.

“You’re the most fucking beautiful...” he said.

You stared down at him between your legs, grinning up at you. You let out a light laugh. His hair was messed up from the night’s sleep and his mustache glistened with sweat and drops of your own arousal.

“Yeah?” you smiled. “You’re... incredible, Javi.”

“And you’re going to be late for work.” He sighed and then propped himself up on his elbows before pushing himself all the way up and sliding off the bed, one arm extended, an offer to pull you up.

“Can’t I reciprocate?” you whined. You wanted to pretend it wasn’t Monday.

“Save it for later today,” he reached down to grab your arm and tugged.

“Fine.” You let him help you onto your feet, swaying slightly with the lasting aftereffects of the orgasm. “But I’ve got an all-school meeting after classes. Going to be later than usual.”

“That’s fine,” he said, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you into a hug.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before you pulled away to go to the bathroom. He tapped your bare ass as you slipped out of his grip and you flipped him off over your shoulder, laughing.

You walked out of your shared bedroom, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. A couple of the other young teachers had invited you out to a disco, and you were never one to turn down a night of dancing.

The dress was your favorite for nights out, short skirt and low neckline. You weren’t afraid to say it: the dress made you look downright sexy. A night out in it was always a good idea, giving you the confidence to dance a little wilder, drink a little more, talk to a few more people.

You entered the living room where Javier was pouring over some papers from work, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The smoke wafted up above him, a personal cloud that emulated the frustrated mood he had been in the past week. You two still slept in the same bed, but further apart. The touches were few and far between. It was something you would have to deal with, an occupational hazard of his, but it still sucked.

Javier never talked about details. Work was always vague and coded. You knew it was because of confidentiality. He couldn’t risk anything getting out. Sometimes you took it personally like it meant he didn’t trust you. But then other nights he would lie next to you and tell you how stressed he was. How he hated seeing the bodies of the people he had shot, their lifeless eyes staring back at him. How he knew he didn’t have to look, but he thought he owed it to them. He didn’t think there were many people on the list of those who should have to die, and every bullet that left his gun was another name on a gravestone that shouldn’t have been carved. He trusted you. But only with his emotions.

It was this cloud hanging over Javier that led you to accept the invitation out. A week before, when you were amidst the warm haze of happiness swirling around Javier and you, there was no reason to go out, only thousands of reasons to come home sooner and spent countless hours in the presence of the man who had become your best friend. But lately, it was like he wasn’t there. At least not 100%. You didn’t need to go out, but it wouldn’t hurt. It would be nice to catch up with your coworkers. Relax.

You had your purse in your hand and were grabbing a light jacket off of the hook near the door when you heard the creaking of leather that signified Javier standing up. You turned around to see him, his eyes scanning your outfit before settling on your chest.

“Eyes up here, Casanova.” You smirked.

“You’re going out dressed like that?” He said, and you were shocked by the surprise in his voice. He had seen you go out plenty over the past couple months and knew you weren’t one to shy away from a skimpy outfit.

“Of course?” You said.

“Why?”

“I want to?” you shrugged. “I’m going out dancing. Haven’t been in a couple weeks.”

He had stepped out from behind the couch and was a few feet in front of you now. “So you’re going out to get drunk, dance, make some stupid decisions, and grind up against a bunch of guys?”

What the hell did that mean? What did he want? To start arguing?

“Yeah,” you said, trying and failing to keep your cool. You were mad. Javier had been so distant this past week and he had the nerve to question your actions. To try to control you? “Minus the grinding against a bunch of guys part, yes. Some of the younger teachers are meeting up. Girls night out. And yeah, we’re going to get drunk, dance, and probably make some stupid decisions. So what?”

“And you have to wear something like that?” Javier spat out.

You pressed your eyes shut. He didn’t mean it, you told yourself, repeating it in your head, hoping it would become believable.

“I like how I look in it, Javi. Is that a crime?” You threw up your hands. It took all your energy not to let the tears spill over. This was your dress. The perfect one. And here he was saying shit, insinuating that it made you look less than representable. 

“No, it’s just—”

“You know what? No,” you forced out. “I don’t like how I feel in this anymore. I’ll go change. You don’t have to worry about me.”

You pushed past him and rushed back to the bedroom where you slammed the door close. Only then did you let the tears out. Javier was being an asshole because of work. He’s been like this all week. He didn’t mean to take it out on you.

The dress didn’t feel sexy anymore. It felt something awful. You didn’t want to put a name to it, but your brain supplied the word ‘slutty’ and you hated yourself for that. You pulled it off like it was made of scratchy wool.

Back in the closet, you found a pair of jeans that made your ass look great and a top that you used to wear on nights out back in Paris all the time.

You heard a door slam shut.

If Javier wasn’t in the living room, you could slip out unnoticed. You peaked out and saw the light pouring out from underneath the door to the bathroom. Good.

It was only when you were out on the street, walking towards where you were supposed to meet your friends did you notice the fat drops of rain that had begun to sporadically fall and you remembered that you left your jacket back at the apartment.

You shivered in the small bed that hadn’t been slept in in weeks. By the time you made it home, the rain had picked up leaving you soaked. Javier’s words from a couple days before echoed in your head, “April we might have gotten lucky, but it is the rainy season, and it’s going to come down hard.”

You weren’t sure if you could consider April’s heatwave lucky, but it wasn’t torrential downpours, so you weren’t sure which you would choose. You probably wouldn’t have been wearing the tank top and shorts that one day if it was raining. Probably wouldn’t have caught Javier’s eye. Probably wouldn’t have landed on Javier’s bed. So maybe you’d take a heatwave.

It was better than coming home, soaked to the bone and freezing cold, to a silent and dark apartment. You were decently sober, having not drank much on account of Javier’s words earlier that day, and the rain having washed away the rest of your tipsy sway. You had taken a hot shower, and while you wanted to crawl in next to Javier where it was warm and comfortable, you weren’t sure if you were welcome.

The guest room that you had slept in for a month or so before you ended up in Javier’s every night lay empty and you had figured it was still, technically, your room, despite all of your belongings having migrated out of it.

It wasn’t as comfortable as it was next to Javier. You missed even the distant way he lay on the other side of the bed the past week. At least he had been there.

Your hair was still wet from the shower and even though the water had been warm, you were cold again.

Then the thunder cracked open in a cacophony of sound. It began as a low rumble that sent off warning signs in your head and steadily grew until it was all one could hear. Not even a gunshot going off next to your head would be heard over the sound. Your body gave off the response it always did in a thunderstorm: every muscle flexing and releasing as your chest tightened.

Ever since you were a kid, thunderstorms had scared the shit out of you. Even as an adult, you were never able to shake the terror that filled your body when you heard that particular rumbling sound. Your parents thought it was loud noises that would set you off, but they were proven wrong every New Year’s Eve when you watched fireworks in awe. There was something about the electricity coursing through the sky that shook you to your core.

You pulled the blanket tighter around you and squeezed your eyes shut, tears spilling out between the cracks. Of all the nights for you and Javier to fight...

The bed was the cherry on top. You hadn’t slept there in weeks. Even though you and Javier hadn’t even labeled what you were doing, the one thing you could be sure of was that whatever you were, it involved sleeping in the same bed every night, even if you didn’t have sex. And you were now trying to calm yourself in a foreign room, on a bed that didn’t offer comfort, but a reminder of its absence.

The curtains didn’t keep you from catching the way the sky lit up in an instant. You braced yourself, and seconds later the low rumbling began again. You curled into a ball and let out a loud sob as the thunder turned from bass to treble with its whip-like crack.

That was it. You couldn’t stay in the bed. Javier might not have even wanted to talk with you, but it didn’t matter because you were still pushing yourself up and running to Javier’s room. You pushed open the door. Completely dark.

“Javi?” you asked into the room.

“What?” He responded after a few seconds. His voice was groggy and sharp with a tone of annoyance. You felt bad for waking him up.

“I’m scared,” you couldn’t make any effort to mask how your voice held the shadow of tears.

That sound was enough for Javi to be jumping up and rushing up towards you, his arms reaching around your body, pulling you in, tight and secure.

“Hey.” His voice had changed. This was now gentle and caring. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. Breath with me? Okay? In... and out.”

You took the breaths along with him, the feeling of his chest rising against you helped calm you down. A hand reached up to the back of your head, pressing softly and you rested your head on his shoulder. The two of you stood there in the doorway, silent. Any other time, you would have had a million questions about your argument, but they all slipped away as he soothed your fears.

Until the thunder cracked again, and something outside, probably a powerline, exploded. You flinched and your breathing became uneven once more.

Javier squeezed you before releasing his grip and tugging your arm over towards the bed, where he lay down, pulling you with him. He pulled the covers up over you and wrapped his arms around your torso.

“You’re safe,” he said.

How was he so good at this? People always said shit like ‘it’s just a storm’ or ‘it’s nothing to be scared of’ which never helped because you knew it was irrational, yet you still suffered the fear. Javier, on the other hand, was almost a professional at calming you down.

Lying in his arms, his words manifested. The room lit up with a flash of lightning, giving you a glimpse at Javier’s face, sorrowful and soft. You buried your head in his chest, the warmth radiating off from him acting as a shield from the storm. The thunder rumbled again and you inhaled and exhaled as Javier pulled you in a little tighter. You were safe. Javier was safe.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered.

Your brow furrowed. What was he talking abou—oh. Your argument. All the anger had slipped out of you as he held you tight. You had spent the evening dancing but as the hours passed, you regretted getting worked up over it. Wished you were back in the apartment with Javier.

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You looked beautiful. You always do. I was frustrated with work and took it out on you. It’s not fair.”

You were glad there weren’t any lights on because he would have seen you start crying again. But this time it was with a smile on your lips.

“I forgive you,” you whispered before his thumb rubbing circles on your back lulled you to sleep.

Javier had come back to the apartment late and said he needed to go out and do something. To which you had said something about not being his mother. He actually laughed, for the first time in a few days, and said that he wanted you to come with him.

You hadn’t expected that to lead you to where you were, standing up on the mountainside, right where he had brought you back when you were still getting to know each other, staring out over Bogotá.

Or rather, staring out over the sea of clouds that had been hanging low in the valley for weeks.

Where you stood was sunny. Something you hadn’t experienced in a while. Not with the ever-present rain.

The whole drive up you kept telling Javier that you wouldn’t be able to see anything. And he kept saying that he thought you did have a chance of seeing something.

“When you said we would see something,” you said, “I didn’t expect that something to be more clouds.”

“It’s better than being under them, right?” Javier said from back where the car was parked, rummaging around in the trunk.

You stood closer to the edge, and Javier walked towards you. Turning to face him, you saw a blanket in one of his hands, a large bag in the other.

“Care for a picnic?” He held up the items.

“A picnic?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I know it’s in between lunch and dinner but you’re usually hungry after work and I thought we could use a little break?”

You laughed and shook your head as he set down the bag and tossed the blanket to the ground, struggling to get it to lie flat.

The two of you sprawled out on the surface, and Javier opened up the bag, setting out a couple plates and cups along with some hastily packed containers of fruits, arepas, rice, and a variety of meats and beans and a bunch of whatever leftovers the two of you had in the fridge. And underneath it all was a bottle of wine.

“Javi,” you said, “You didn’t have to do all of this. It’s so...” romantic. That’s what was making your stomach do flips and turns.

“So... what?”

“Nothing. It’s just a lot of work,” you shook your head and smiled through the lie.

Your relationship, if you could call it that, was a lot of things, but it wasn’t romantic. It was two friends with takeout and a six-pack watching Bruce Lee movies before fucking each other on the sofa. Picnics on a mountainside with nice wine was not territory you were ready for.

Yet here you were.

He poured you each a glass and then you began eating and talking. You must have spent a half-hour lazily snacking and chatting before starting to put the empty dishes back in the back. Then you were back to laying on the blanket, side by side, taking in the sun.

It was admittedly very nice.

Javier propped himself up on one arm, staring down at you.

“The way the sun hits you right now?” he said, smiling. “It’s beautiful.”

He reached down to caress your jaw before dipping his head down and taking your lips in his. He lowered himself over top of you. You kept kissing him, and you weren’t sure where you ended and Javier began. It was a serendipitous blend of lips and tongue and teeth, arms over torsos, legs intertwined. At one point you rolled over to be above him, and it was then that you could feel the extent of his arousal, pushing into your upper thigh.

You felt the same but had no urge to rush things along.

When the time did come, Javier having returned to his previous position above you, his attention now on your collarbone, lips wet and sweet against the sensitive skin, and your head was tilted back, swollen lips parted, his hands slipped under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and then over your head.

The rest of your clothes came off as smoothly and quietly as the first, as did Javier’s, and he was then right there. All of him. Hot skin pressed against your own.

“Is this okay?” he asked. His head was back above yours, lips ghosting over your own, and his mustache tickled your upper lip.

“Yes.”

When he entered you he caught your lips again and held you in his arms. You could feel every inch of Javier, both inside you and outside, skin against skin. Your fingers dug into and explored his hips, his back, his waist, his neck. Every thrust drew out a moan or a ragged breath that was matched by Javier.

And there was something different about things, an afternoon alone on top of a mountain, breathing in fresh air, the wine in your veins slowing everything down a little bit. You knew that this changed things. It was a step away from friends who fucked. A step closer to friends who... you weren’t sure. Or maybe friends wasn’t the right word anymore.

This is a casual relationship, you told yourself as he thrust in deeper.

You were taking the place of the many others who would be warming both your beds if you didn’t have one another, you told yourself as his hips stalled and he groaned the way he always did when he came.

It’s entirely casual, you told yourself as you came around him, his mouth on yours muffling the moans of pleasure.

Then why did it feel like you were making love?

next; june: ecstasy

taglists; (let me know if you want to be added, removed, or moved around, particularly perm/pedro list)

perm taglist; @turquiosenights @el-lizzie​ @sparrows-books​ @dxxkxx​ @opheliaelysia​ @trashbin2​ @rzrcrst​​ @arcadianempress​ @stevieharrrr​ @peterparkers-tingle​ 

pedro taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ 

javier taglist; @letaliabane​ @awesomefandomsunited​

un veneno taglist; @stillfangirlingbtw​ @mando-vibes​ @flower-petal-blooming​ @spookyold-saintjm​ @enchantedrhoses @creamysacrilege​ @lolwhateverlol @murdermewithbooks​ @nerdysuperchick @nolivingthingdroid​ @mus1cal-barnes @adikaofmandalore​ @mrsparknuts​ @i-like-those-odds​ 

[bakugous-bitch-boi]

BNHA AND G/T STORY

So I wrote this back in January for Amino and thought "Hey I have a Tumblr now, why not post it there?" So yeah thats what I'm doing-

For reference the borrower in this story is my OC Thomas. He's not explicitly BNHA related but I just thought it'd be cool to see him in that universe so I slapped a quirk on him and did what I usually do with him.

Throw him into danger-

Anyways uh yeah so enjoy the short story- if enough people like this one I'll continue it and it can be a series UwU

————————————————————————

They were barely audible inside the colorfully decorated dorm room, the tiny steps only just being heard above the natural ambiance of the building's various series of ventilation. The source of the tiny steps was also similarly barely detectable, wirh the noise originating from the movement of a young borrower boy named Thomas who’s height only just reached a measly one inch. The boy also made sure to stay as low to the ground beneath him as he possibly could to eliminate the easy viewing of his silhouette against the cream colored wall behind him. Granted, the terrain the child was walking on was a flat one dotted with figures around three times his size at their smallest of a man he didn’t recognize, so their was ample space to hide in case the inhabitant of the room decided to return.

Thomas was used to this sneaking around, he had been doing it ever since he was born after all, it was just how borrowers made it in the world. However this time was different from every other living arrangement he had found himself in. His last travel companion had abandoned the young child in the bitter cold around a week ago, leaving the kid to fend for himself. It was something new for Thomas, and already seven days in he had made up his mind that he didn’t like it. The world had always appeared scary, again that was just a prerequisite for being a borrower born into a world where eighty percent of humans are born with the most terrifying abilities, however being near someone always managed to make it better for Thomas. Without that extra layer of an adult's protection, simple acts like going mere meters away from his hole-in-the-wall home seemed like the most daunting thing imaginable.

The child had tried his best to limit his borrowing activities due to this extra fear, however that was something a lot easier said than done. When Thomas had clambered inside the closest building for protection that stormy night, he quickly realized that no matter where he decided to make a home inside said structure he’d be without one resource or another. He found that the layout of the building was fairly simple, it was almost like a square ring that held a garden in its center with a open indoor room flanking this courtyard on the first floor which was followed by the floors above split into a hallway and several other smaller rooms, however no one place in the large building had everything he needed. His old traveling friends had shown him what objects were most essential to gather, and while some were easily found if he went to the right spaces like cloth or tape other’s like the basics of food and water were incredibly scarce no matter where he went. Or, in the areas where they could be found easily, they were guarded by “quirked” humans which essentially made them inaccessible unless he was able to wait for the human to leave. Some rooms were completely off limits in fact due to said quirked beings having particularly terrifying, in one case quite literally explosive, predispositions. This left Thomas’ options severely limited and obviously made his life ten times more difficult, however he had managed it so far and was able to get things down to a pretty consistent routine.

Thomas’ steps remained quiet and his body close to the ground as he reached his final source of resources for the day, after he grabbed this he would be able to try his best to fall asleep. Granted, this resource wasn’t necessary or even a particularly consistent one, however the child’s sweet tooth obviously couldn’t resist a lazily opened and forgotten chocolate bar when it was so close to his space inside the wall. He approached the candy from an untouched side still kept snuggly inside it’s wrapper, however tearing into said wrapping to get the freshest piece would make his presence incredibly obvious so doing so was completely out of the question. He was pushing his luck even going for the candy in general to begin with. His head swiveled towards the door as he slowly reached the opened side of the candy bar which lead him to leave the safe area behind the assorted colorful plastic figures and make his way out in the open. He noticed the sound of people approaching the room he had situated himself in, easily recognizing one of the voices as the teenage inhabitant of the space. His eyes grew as he heard the distinctive sound of speech, he had to make this as quick as possible. The fluffy haired borrower darted over to the exposed and somewhat mangled chocolate and bent down on his knees, his feet slipping the slightest bit on the slick wood of the dresser he had been sneaking around on. He grabbed a small piece of metal he had gathered in his travels from the sack strung over his shoulder which he then drove into a chunk of relatively untouched but still exposed chocolate. He used what little arm strength his young arms had built up to saw a lump of chocolate away from the rest of the bar which he then wrapped in a bit of shredded wax paper he had gathered from one of the rooms. He was quick about the whole action of cutting the chunk and then wrapping it up, so when he stood up and noticed that the voices were still firmly outside he was only a little surprised.

He took those few seconds of breathing room to look up at the wall behind him, his eyes trailing up the massive poster that spread across it which was slightly obscured due to his viewpoint. The poster was of the same man in a colorful outfit that the many figures and other posters in the room depicted, however despite him being so abundantly shown in the small space Thomas was always drawn to this one particularly large image. He didn’t know why, after all the sight of a human was hardwired in a borrower's brain to be like looking at death itself, but the aura the man gave off was similar to that of the adult borrowers he had been traveling with all six years of his life. Maybe it was just the smile of the man in the image or simply the colors he adorned himself with, but the past few seven days spent in the terrifying collection of horror filled rooms was made just a little brighter and easier when he was met with the warmth of this particular poster. His eyes were lost, so lost that the movement of him slinging the pack over his shoulder once more was slowed and without haste. As he looked up a childishly pure smile grew on his tiny face, a smile that was unaware of the motion of an opening door behind him and the sounds of rising voices and shuffling feet until the very last second.

When Thomas finally turned around after breaking himself away from the happiness of the poster, he was greeted with a sight that would take the smile off of even the most grizzled borrowers face. He saw the boy who inhabited the room standing in the doorway, and while his silhouette did not appear too imposing when considering the other people living in the building, he was still a human with a much more capable build than most typically had. At first Thomas’ heart hitched in his chest as he immediately assumed he was seen and therefore completely finished, however after a second of looking he noticed the boy was busily scrolling through his phone and thusly hadn’t noticed the tiny child staring at him in terror on his dresser. The tiny boy wasted no time after realizing he was safe, and with one push from his little legs he sprinted over to the zigzagging crack in the wall just big enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t focus on keeping hidden, he didn’t focus on staying quiet, all he saw in those few heart wrenching seconds was his sliver of hope and safety. As he ran he heard an audible “Hmm?” from the freckled green haired teen who had apparently noticed the sound of rushing tiny steps and the puny silhouette of a minuscule boy sprinting for safety. While he heard the sound, Thomas didn’t stop. He kept running, pushing his speed higher and higher with every step, determined not to get captured. While he tried his best to stay calm, his breath couldn’t help but quicken and tears managed to loosen from the corners of his eyes. He could see the gentle glow of his quirk beginning to activate around him through blurred teary eyed vision, however he managed to push down his body's instinctual urge to protect his young, fragile self so he could focus on getting back into his hiding spot.

He launched himself into the cracked space cutting through the wall, his body scraping against the tight jagged sides, tearing at his baggy self-made shirt and cutting up his skin. He didn’t care about the slight pain in that moment however, instead he was concerned with making sure it looked like absolutely nothing strange or out of the ordinary was happening behind the small hole in the wall. The child gathered himself and the few belongings he had before pushing them all against the side of the tight space just out of view from someone looking in, he himself sitting against the drywall with his head tucked into his folded arms to look as small and inconspicuous as possible. The inviting shine of his quirk appeared once more as he felt the teens presence just outside his miniature room, the thought of him peering in looking for an intruder to destroy with glee only forcing out more pitiful tears from the young boys eyes and the continued growth of his quirks effect. He stayed quiet however, not letting a sound slip from his tiny mouth as he waited for the teen to either pass him by or try and find a way to get to the quivering borrower.

After a few tense moments, the massive green haired teen reluctantly decided that the noise he had heard shuffling across his dresser was just in his head, leading him to walk off over to his bed. In the new, less pressured silence Thomas was able to let his rising emotions out as much as he wanted to in the form of quiet stuttering sobs. By this point his quirk had fully activated and created a bubble-like shield around him as it was supposed to do when he was in danger, and behind the glowing force field the tiny child tried to calm himself down as best as he was able to after his perceived brush with death. As his hands trembled he went to grab his makeshift pack, his fingers nimbly curling around the small wrapped piece of chocolate he had borrowed mere moments ago. He didn’t want to waste the sweet substance so quickly, however the poor kid rationalized that he was scared enough to deserve munching on the cocoa flavored chalk. He took small, feeble bites, only stopping to let loose another hiccuping sob.

After all, what was a tiny kid to do under such heart-stopping pressure?

[lavalampelfchild]

Lava’s Art Masterpost

Hey, all!  Welcome to my art masterpost!  I have no idea if this is a thing that is done typically for art, but oh well, I like organizing things, so here we are!  What you’ll find here is mostly Dragon Age, with a few non-DA pieces in there, and there’s a range of styles I like to use, depending on my mood.  But a lot of what you’ll see will most likely combine lineart with some other form of coloring/shading.

Feel free to browse at your leisure, and I hope anyone who stumbles upon this enjoys what they find! :D And thank you to anyone who sees this and likes, or reblogs, or even just stops by to peruse a bit!  

All that said, away we go!

Digital Portraits:

1. Portrait of Nameless Woman, 2020 - This one is just an experiment with a watercolor brush that I did.  It’s not anatomically perfect, but I enjoyed playing around with shading.

2. Sketch of Aja Amell, 2020 - This one is basically sketch practice with my Amell~  Not really the most expressive pictures, but it’s a start toward drawing her more expressively.  Full disclosure: Aja is one of those OCs of mine that I have had trouble with deciding on a definitive appearance for several pictures, and I really want to work on upping my level of consistency when drawing her.

3. Long-Haired Fenris, 2020 - Exactly what it sounds like; this was for practice drawing Fenris’s features (I love how distinct they are), but with long hair because I am weak for it.  This one was a fun piece to shade, and mixing the stylized lineart that I normally use with a greyscale shading spectrum was really enjoyable.

4. Portrait of Ilorin Lavellan, 2016 - This is an oldie.  Basically practicing expressions, and it is technically a WIP, but I’m still very happy with how the shading turned out, especially because this is actually (aside from the unfinished hair) one of the more minimal pieces I’ve done in terms of lineart  It’s still there, and it still shapes the flow of the picture in some ways, but it also ends up flowing with the shading instead of standing out next to it, which I like.  (Both styles are good, though, and I love seeing other artists try both too.)

5. Old Portrait of Aja Amell, 2016 - Much older picture I did of Aja; she... honestly looks very little like the newer one, I think, and that consistency is something I’m still working on, but this one was the first picture of Aja with that particular hairstyle I drew.  What I like about this picture is how young she looks; it fits with her image as a fresh and sheltered Circle mage who’s only about 20 years old at the time of DAO.

6. Old Portrait of Trilyn, 2016 - They very first piece of art I posted to tumblr~ It’s not exactly how I envision Trilyn anymore, but it was still very fun to draw, and helped me get a feel for drawing him in the future. 

Dynamic Movement Pictures/”Moment’s in Time”:

1. Tabris in Arl’s Estate, 2020 - TW: blood.  I am super proud of this one.  My ultimate goal is to draw all of my Warden DAO OCs, and I could not believe I’ve never drawn my Tabris, and so here she is.  This was, in large part, practicing expressions because I absolutely love art that depicts characters in motion, or capturing some kind of expression.

2. Velyn in the Rain, 2017 - This one was actually based on some art that I saw in a Teen Wolf fic!  It was an experiment with a more expressive style (and one of the first pieces I did without lineart left in the finished version) and it was a huge step out of my comfort zone.  But overall, I am extremely happy with how it turned out.

3. Jem Nocking an Arrow, 2016 - And here is the lineart version.  This was entirely an excuse to draw my DAI baby, Jem, and to do a cool archer pose because archers are my fav, and I love characters in motion.

4. Solas Teaching Trilyn Fade Magic, 2016 - This one was a painterly picture that was also (like the Velyn picture) something which I tried to keep lineart out of.  Overall, I am proud of a lot of parts of the pic, but I think I would definitely go back over it and change a few things now if I had the patience.

5. Trilyn Closeup WIP, 2016 - TW: injury, blood, mention of abuse in the author’s note.  A lot of early pictures I have are of my OC, Trilyn, and this is one of my absolute favorites.  His entire upper body is technically in the picture, but I hadn’t finished rendering it yet, so this was what I posted.  And it was an experiment with a cross-hatching style with the pencil tool for some texture, with air brush shading and a blurring tool.  It’s a style I had fun playing around with!

6. Trilyn Blood Ritual, 2016 - TW: blood, injury (the slight cut used to supply the ritual with blood).  This one was definitely a sort of “captured moment” from a backstory I gave Trilyn, and I think what I was really going for was an atmospheric piece that could fit with any potential fic I wanted to write for Trilyn.  And then it ended up being practice for extreme lighting/shading techniques, and drawing the blood and the gross mass of demon ichor (or whatever the heck that is) turned out to be highlights of making the piece for me.

Art + Text:

1. Freedom and Control, 2020 - TW: scars, but very difficult to see.  This one was ambitious for me!  It started originally just as Solas and my Tal-Vashoth OC, Saara, facing each other, because I love the dynamic I’ve built for them in my head, but then it turned into an attempt at a tarot-esque background, and just sorta grew from there... Overall, I’m happy with how it turned out, especially with how Solas and Saara themselves turned out.  The version you can actually see a larger view is here.  

2. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 1, 2020 - I love writing my own codex entries, first off, and I love combining art with text to create a (hopefully) seamless work.  This work was an attempt to flesh out these OCs of mine with both art (because unique facial structures are hard for me to get down, but so important regardless) and text (because writing~).  I think it turned out well overall, but there are elements of the portraits that I might at some point touch up a bit.

3. Marianna and Delia Codex and Art, Pt. 2, 2020 - Part 2, with what I refer to as a “DAI Outfit Change” because I have always loved seeing fans show their own OCs as they look in DAO, DA2, and then finally DAI.  So I absolutely wanted to jump on that bandwagon myself.  The skin tones are a little off (and I’m sorry about that!) because I was playing with the watercolor brush at that point, and it dilutes the colors I use.  Still working to figure that out, but I was very happy with the overall lineart and structures of the faces.

4. Alistair/Aja Amell Picture with a Blurb, 2017 - Ooooold, old, old, old, OLD!  I still love the art, and I’m soooo happy with how the interaction between Alistair and Aja turned out (drawing kisses is extremely difficult for me; I always end up creating a distorted weird lip-creature, instead of realistically puckered lips...).  I’m not as happy with the blurb that went with it?  At that point, I was still very much figuring out my own DAO worldstate, and the characterization for everyone, so, eh.  Take it with a grain of salt!

Unfinished Costume Designs:

1. Ancient Elvhen Armor with Dwarven Influence, 2018 - People who do costume design work are amazing and mystical beings, and I wish I could do what they do.  This was an attempt at merging the Keeper robes from DAI with a more dwarven armor aesthetic, solely because I created an ancient elvhen character, Ceda, who was taken in by the Cad’halash dwarves mentioned in the Witch Hunt dlc, and I wanted this character to have a mix of the elven style of armor and the dwarven style.  I’m overall decently happy with it, but there’s still that persistent level of self-criticism present.

2. Herald of Andraste Outfit WIP, 2016 - This was a very old picture, not one I showed around a lot, but the idea for this was entirely born of my intense interest in how fashion and outfit designs could be used to create a symbolic image for the Herald of Andraste.  In general, I love the combination of ceremonial armor with long and flowing cloth, so that was what I went for here.  I’m still actually very proud of how this came out, and headcanon something similar for my Herald in my canon DAI worldstate.

Pencil Sketches:

1. Quick Saara Sketch, 2019 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  Exactly what it says; very quick sketch of Saara I did in a small notebook I carry around with me.  This was basically a test for myself to see if I could manage to draw Saara with the features and facial structure I envisioned for her without needing to use a lot of references.

2. Mass Effect Character Sketch; Jesse, 2018 - Similar reason for drawing this one as the above Saara sketch!  With these characters, I love sometimes the way they can turn out with the specific character creator used for them, and when I draw them, I enjoy trying to create a definitive look for them using what I get from the CC, and my own knowledge of Hooman Faces.

3. Saara Sketch, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A more detailed sketch of Saara than the one above, and one I definitely put more time into overall.  It’s currently the profile picture I’m using for ao3, and is the definitive go-to reference picture I use whenever imagining Saara in a fic, or for other Saara pics I make.  I am extremely proud of this picture, and feel like I should work in graphite more often.  It’s such fun, and the texture is so nice to look at.

4. Sketch of Nameless Alamarri Woman, 2017 - This was a sketch I did of what I envisioned some Alamarri tribes to look like; I used artistic depictions of Gaul tribes and hairstyles for inspiration, and have used this as a go-to reference for my version of Alamarri tribes.  Nothing super notable about this one, but I really liked the way the shape of her face turned out.

Events and Gifts:

1. Another Scar, 2020 - TW: blood, injuries, gore.  The most recent piece of art on the list, and a gift for @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold; featuring sisterly love between Rica and fem!Brosca, which was her requested prompt.  This was a tough piece for me because of the difficulty with the lighting I dealt with.  For some reason, that one particular element of it gave me so much trouble.  Overall, I’m very happy with how it turned out, though, especially the skin tones of the sisters; Brosca I always sort of like as having this greyish, more gaunt look to her, while Rica I like seeing with a darker, richer, and warmer tone to her.  

2. A Very Cousland Christmas!, 2019 - This was for a holiday exchange for a server, and I drew a friend’s Cousland (Elissa, the girl on the left) with my Cousland (Gazza, the girl on the right).  I love kid-fic, and I love kid-art, and so I decided... baby Cousland art!  Drawing kid proportions was the toughest part, I recall, and I thiiiink it turned out well, and I’m still quite proud of it overall.  Elissa’s design came entirely from my friend, but I added the holly~

3. Exchange Gift with Dis Brosca and Mabari, 2018 - This was an exchange gift for @fanfoolishness, using her lovely Dis Brosca, and was my first real attempt at backgrounds... I struggled with the coherence of the foreground and background a bit, but I’m still very proud of how it turned out, especially with the colors I had to work with.  What I also really enjoyed working with was the lighting and the expression on Dis’s face.  Backlit subjects are always fun to play around with!

4. Inktober Picture, “Deep”, 2017 - TW: scars, injury, mentions of abuse in the author’s note/attached dialogue snippets.  This was for an Inktober prompt (the only one I’ve ever done, sadly... because I am bad with deadlines...), and again features Trilyn.  Trilyn’s backstory has him a former slave in Tevinter, and a lot of the early works I do for him are sort of deep-dives into his life there.  It’s all meant to be an exploration of the things he endures, and then those moments when he overcomes it all and takes back his own autonomy and self.  This art is definitely provocative, and I can understand if not everyone likes it, but to me, I just wanted to show just what he faces (without glorifying it) before showing the moment of his own triumph.

5. Christmas Holiday Picture with my Brosca and a Friend’s Amell, 2017 - This was a piece of art drawn first by a friend of mine, @nanahuatli~  She drew the Amell, the background, the mistletoe, etc.  All I did was add my Brosca to the mix to finish the image.  It was a lot of fun to do, 1) because it was fun trying to match her style so that the picture looked cohesive, 2) because I love doing collabs with friends, and 3) because it was just such a fun thing to imagine my surly short Brosca, looking at this weird plant/fungus/thing dangling over some puckering human!  It was an absolute joy to do this collab with her!  

6. OC Kiss Week Pic of Jem and Saara, 2017 - TW: saarebas mouth scars.  A spur-of-the-moment thing meant to demonstrate just what kind of dynamic my OC, Jem, has with my other OC, Saara (both of whom are members of Leliana’s network in DAI).  This was a very quick picture (deadlines...) and was mostly just to have fun drawing these two characters interacting, and to see if I could make them look like themselves.  I think I did a decent job with it overall, especially with Jem’s kissy-face!  (Again... drawing kisses are the bane of my existence, although hands and feet take a close second.)

[eorzeasntm]

Eorzea’s Next Top Model Tumblr Cycle Ten 

Round 1 Results

Round One is over already!  For last week’s challenge, I asked the models to go out and fight something cute.  Many cute things were slain, but the model who did some slaying of her own was:

Lily Lycoris

Congratulations!  You’re the winner of the first round of ENTM Cycle 10.  That cactuar didn’t know what was gonna hit him.

For the models, our judges have some critiques for you below the fold!  This week, I asked the judges to do a bit of overlapping to ensure each model got two different perspectives.  (Starting with Round 2, we will drop down to one critique per model, but from different judges than this week.)

Judge Kai

Week One, and here we go! Good luck to all of the models, and I can’t wait to see what you do with the challenges to come!

Azalea: This is a nice image, but I’m not sure if it fits the overall theme of fighting. It, more so, looks like they snuck up on you and gave you a shock! That said, the outfit is cute, and I like that you make it match the little Mandragora color theme. The pose is a little awkward, and I wish you’d pulled yourself a bit closer to the camera so we could see you better. The layout and your set up of the image are very nice and my eye went straight to you when I first saw it. But, be careful of brightening an image, it is giving your dress a very white glowy look and could make an image look a bit overexposed. Overall, good job!  

Chee: First off, great job choosing to use a dark outfit against such a bright background. It makes you pop with my eye going right to you, and even though the background has taken on an overexposed quality, it doesn't affect your character’s darker theme. I love that you kept your character up front and highly visible, but a little sad you cut off the sword since this is a battle shot. The bright flash in the center is a little distracting, so just keep an eye on that. You don’t want the effects being used to upstage you! Overall, I think you did a great job for the first week so keep it up!

Haila: I will admit, I am not a big fan of backshots unless it actually adds something to the image - which (to me) doesn’t seem to happen often. In this case, awesome job! It gives me this overall sense of you being backed into a corner and this is truly a fight for your life. Very well lit and you were smart to pick the outfit you did because it doesn’t really blend in and makes you stand out in a… very crowded situation lol. Those raptors are out for your blood, and I don’t see you going down without a fight. Though, I’m unsure if I would consider them a -small- friend. But in this case, I don’t really care because this is a very well set up image!

Lantis: Good image and you did a good job lighting it. It looks like you’re taking quite a beating there. These Mandies are not happy with you, and I will admit that this image made me smile. Reminds me of one of those people taking hits to find out how tough they are, lol. I do wish you were a bit closer and dominate in the shot, there are a lot of Mandragora’s to compete with and they are very bright and it did draw my eye to them. That said, the outfit (paired with your skin tone) makes you pop out against all of the green in the background. You got great ideas and I like them, just remember you’re the star! 

Rymm: So I am guessing these are the type of cat’s with a very ‘a typical’ personality and don’t appreciate pets lol. This is a nice shot and I love that you made it a tall shot to get the other flying cat in the shot as well. The sunset in the background is lovely, and I like the outfit you picked out. The top matches the colors of the sky without being to blendy. The outfit as a whole makes you stand out against everything going on around you. It does feel like it’s a bit underlit - but, like me, you’re a fair skinned character so we have to be careful on lighting. A trick I use is full on light set at good a distance. It still lights up the surroundings and yourself but doesn’t make us glow. If you need just a little extra light on you, good old sun minion! Good job!

Judge Vederah

Chee:   I absolutely adore the coloring of the shot. That bright light in the center along with the beams emanating from that point gives off that feeling that something really powerful is about to happen to that little monster. My only issue is that same pro also ended up as a little bit of a con. I am so drawn to the center of the image that I almost didn't pay attention to the deep eye because he was on the farther edge of the image. James: There's a visually interesting contrast between cool and warm colors happening here. I like that the only warm toned parts of this picture is the graphic of the lance as well as the attack animation around the Korpokkur. I just wish it was a little more well lit around your character. The dark shades of your glamour are starting to blend in with the background. Lily: The DoF in this picture is perfect. The cactuar is slightly blurred- but not so much that you miss those lines and dimples of its skin.All the while the Miqote draws our eye by being crisp, in focus, and may I say quite well dressed. My only half-hearted critique here is that I keep going back and forth on whether or not I'd like this image to be zoomed out a touch more. I'd love to see the rest of the look and a bit more of the "monster". Ni'ko: I'm a sucker for pink, and the heavy concentration of pink towards the left of the photograph and how it's also faded out into the sky as we move farther to the right in the picture really works in your favor here. I love how both characters in this shot look like they're in motion to attack-- but the challenge was to be fighting each other. The fact that your character is facing away from the Moogle makes it appear more so that you're fighting along side him. Ysildor: I love how warm this image is- especially now that Autumn is finally starting to come around. While I love the tone of the image, I just wish it was lit a bit better. The shadows in this picture are really dark and we lose some of those little details of both your character and the Kidragora. That being said, I do like the camera angle this image was taken with. It makes the Kidragora seem a little larger and more intimidating of an opponent

Judge Rongi

Adam, for this week’s battle shot you were smart to use effects to help guide the viewer’s eyes, since the background isn’t visible. The lightning bolts on either side of you guide our eyes up and down the center of the shot showing off both you and the monster. I like how each mandragora is a different color (green, orange, and purple) as it gives a little more variety. Your subtitle made me laugh as well. My idea for this photoshoot, would be to have you over on the left and the mobs more on the right, in the exact same plane they are in now, but instead of how this photo is so centered, you’d have a really nice diagonal going across the image, giving it more depth and filling out the empty spaces on the sides. For next week, don’t be afraid to take a non-centered shot, and really work to fill out the whole image. Good luck!

Haila, for this week’s shot you brought a little pop culture into the competition, and it’s a really great shot. I love the balance you have between you and the 3 mobs, and the background is great. I love how we can see some depth in between the left two raptors. If you keep producing shots like this, I think you will be a force to reckon with over the next 8 weeks. I want to bring up two things though. While this is a beautiful shot, and one of the strongest this week, I feel like it isn’t a battle shot. This may be where the pop culture reference hurts you because in this scene of the movie, they are trying to calm the beasts…not fight them. That scene, plus your pose (again, a great pose and perfectly balanced with the mobs) really makes this seem like a “scene” instead of a “battle.” The second thing is, my idea of a little monster is something at least smaller than you yourself. For me, these mobs are not small at all. So while this shot is absolutely gorgeous and shows that you are definitely a seasoned screenshotter, I feel like it misses the mark on the theme itself. For next week, I hope you can take your skills and really match them to the theme 100%. Good luck! I know you can do it.

Lantis, this weeks shot is a great example of layers! I love all the mandragora piled up in the corner and all the layers we get between them. Looking from one to the other is entertaining and fun. Your subtitle is funny and makes me think they are attacking you saying “one of us! One of us!” haha. I am sure you already know what most of the judges are going to say. There is a lot of open space on the right side! An easy fix would have been to turn your camera to the right, filling the entire left side with mandragoras and the right side with you. Plus, youd be closer to the camera which would block out the background and bring more focus to you. While I definitely love the depth we get from your background, it feels forced instead of natural (like Haila’s depth for example. Your pose feels a little less battleshot than some of the other model”s shots for me. Next week, I want you work on not centering yourself in your shots and filling out the whole screen. The layers we got this week on the Mandys, I want to se stuff like that throughout the whole screenshot! Good luck!

Nadede, this shot is really gorgeous. I love the color scheme. Not only did you match the oer all colors between the mobs crystal and your effect, you also chose an outfit that really matches the adventure theme of the shot. It’s definitely a battle shot, but its also a great model shot as we can see so much of you. Because you aren’t looking anywhere in particular, I do feel a little bit of disconnect between you and the monster though. Had you been looking at the mob, I think we would have got a nice profile shot (I love profile shots!). You are definitely a pro and know what the judges are looking for. The hard part this cycle is going to standing out against so many models. So far, you are doing it. For next week, continue what you are doing matching all the elements and I think you have a good chance at taking the crown. Good luck!

Ona, this shot is a rarity indeed. It is perfectly centered!!! I love how little the background is seen, limiting the empty space that we do see in a few of the other shots this round. I think you know what most judges are going to say. It works as a battle shot, and centering it was definitely a good choice, but we cant see you or the mob very well at all. I think you were going for a silhouette shot, but the lens flare in the center makes you unbalanced and darker at the bottom than the top. Next week, watch you effects and how they limit your visibility as a model. Good luck!

Ysildor, this shot is balanced wonderfully. The sunset with the filter choice give it a really warm color that just looks really nice. Even your outfit color is a nice brown that fits the woods setting and filter color. The location of you and the mob are perfect and fill out the entire center of the image giving us very little empty space. The tilt and the horizon line guide our lines across the image quite nicely. While your screenshot is gorgeous though, I do feel like it is less of a battle shot than others this round. It’s a little bit too stoic. From this shot, I can tell that this isn’t your first time taking screen shots. If you focus on matching the theme 100% you could definitely be Eorzea’s Next Top Model. For next week, keep doing what you are doing and I think you will rank really well this cycle. Good luck!

Judge Kusuh

Azeala: The torn frame on this, alongside the bright filter and your outfit, really make this look like a scene straight out of a storybook! Though, the high camera angle plus the mandragora in the foreground draw my attention away from you and more towards what you're fighting. Having the camera profile between both sides or being closer to the camera with a slightly lower angle (so it's like the mobs are looking up at you about to destroy them!) would take this picture to the next level. Cowbot: The Wall Frame in gpose is one of my favorites, and I think it's used really well here! With the placement of the mandragoras it looks like this is something straight out of a comic book or a dramatic freeze frame in an anime. Unfortunately, though, the brightness of the spell you are casting totally erases your face, which actually makes it look like you're the one losing this fight. Lily: This shot feels like it's straight out of a modern-western movie! The look on your face plus the raised arms of the cactuar really are nice touches that really give off a sense of tension and anticipation. I think what would take this combat shot to the next level would be to have the gun actually firing for the shot, I feel that would give a more "active combat" feel. Ni'ko: Personally, I'm such a sucker for dramatic lighting, and this really delivers the feel of a very charged encounter. The position of the moogle in relation to yourself is something that gives me pause, though. From the way it's set up, it more looks to me you two are both fighting on the same side, as opposed to against each other. Having either yours or the moogle's back to the camera would be a good way to remedy this! Rymm: Oh no the cats! This shot really looks like you don't want to be harming these mobs, which I can tell is your intent from your description, so good on you for that! Having the second cat high above you in the air also adds to the comedy of this shot! My main suggestion for you is to play around with the placement of your lights in gpose. You're pretty dark in this shot, and feel like some cooler (temperature-wise) lighting would brighten you up a bit more! Wren: The ladybugs may not be a fan of your outfit, but I am! I love how you managed to catch multiple ladybugs in the middle of attacking, which really makes this feel like a combat shot. Personally, I would zoom in the shot slightly with the gpose camera zoom so that you are more central to the shot and conflict.

Judge M'Telihgo

First off, to everyone, welcome to ENTM.  It takes courage to put yourself out there in front of your peers and other and let them judge away at you.  Regardless of anything else, be proud of having that courage,

Adam:  I like the lightning in your screenshot, it definitely sells that you are combat.  I like the coloring from the lightning, it is a dark shot and their color adds an easy focus.  I do feel that the darkness does make it hard to see any background however, I like that area and would have loved to have seen more of it.  While many people picked Mandragoras, I think they added to your screenshot as you could get many of them into your screenshot and line them up.  I really liked your entry this week.

Cowbot: Welcome back to another round.  While most people would not like the split frame effect, and I understand why, I like that you tried anyway.  I do see how you put yourself in the middle frame and the monsters in the sides.  Your spell effect is hiding your face however, we want to see you too, not just the monsters!  I like how I can still your background clearly and I still think the choice of mandragora is appropriate.  Well done!

James: This was one of my favorite screenshots of the week.  I like the contrast of the white leaves with the darker background, they almost make me think of a spooky ghost in a haunted forest.  More on that another time.  I like how we see both the effect on the monster that looks like you have sliced it in half as well as your pose would match, well done.  A little more light on the trees would have been nice, but not a major point.  Also, you did not pick a mandragora, so good job by you!

Nadede: Also, welcome back to ENTM.  I like this screenshot from you.  I like how your shirt and especially the talisman stick out from the dark background.  I would not have thought about doing a Spriggan for my own entry if I was competing, so I like your choice of monster very much.  However, I do think that the darker creature on a dark background, especially at an edge, makes it blend in a little too much, an effect may have helped with that.  Even with that, I still like it.

Ona: Wow.  I am not usually a fan of silhouette shots, but I like this one!  While I like the starburst behind you, I do not see a monster in there.  Is there one there and I can’t see it or is the Sylph next to you the target?  I also would not have done a Sylph myself, so thumbs up from me on your choice of foe.  I do think a little more light in the background would help it come out more but I think this screenshot does very well even without that.

Wren:  I love the Black Shroud, I hated it in 1.0, but the new version is much, much better, obviously, a plus from me on your choice of location!  I like the contrast of both you and your target with the background, makes you and your foe really stand out.  If I were to try something different, it would be the angle.  I like your battle effect, but I think a little different angle or timing to line it up better could be additive to your screenshot.  Even with saying that, I do like your choice of ability and your choice of foe.  I look forward to seeing more of your screenshots in the future.

[thedarkenedkeeper]

Glitched: Part 6 - Stitched Together

Author’s Note: Alright, a few things about this before you go head first into it.

Firstly, this is long, and I mean long. It came out as 14 pages long on Word, and I apologize for that! Once again, I underestimated how long the chapter would be!

Secondly, I had originally planned for this part to have two parts to it, but given just how long this came out, I once again had to severe a part into two parts. SO Part 7 will be centered on what happened at the very end of this. After that, Part 8 will DEFINITELY return to the present and involve the events of “Kill Jacksepticeye”.

And thirdly, which is the most important. I know I always leave a reminder stating how the fanfic is angsty horror, but this time I truly need to stress this. WARNING: This chapter is incredibly graphic. There is a lot of blood, some abnormal “body horror”, and detailed descriptions of surgical operations being performed. There’s a horrible sense of dread, intensity, and helplessness throughout the entire duration of the chapter. Sharp surgical instruments are mentioned, and there are scenes of involving horrific hallucinations and psychological horror. So if you are REALLY squeamish or have a hard time reading about surgical procedures, I would strongly advise you to scroll past this. However, if you’re completely fine with what’s been listed, then I hope you enjoy!

Also, fun fact! This entire fanfic series has been my first ever attempt at writing horror, and I’m truly pleased with how it’s been coming out so far, especially what with this chapter. I can’t wait to hear what you all have to say about this :) 

Another fun fact! There’s foreshadowing in this chapter….keep that in mind for the chapters to come ;)

And here, listen to this playlist while you're at it

Red…that’s all he saw…

All he could see was a thick hazy layer of crimson…

      All he could smell was the nauseating scent of copper…

            All he could hear was his heart pounding brutally in his head…

                  All he could feel were bolts of pain charging throughout his body…

                        All he could taste was his own blood…

He lay there on the cool flooring, his body shaking violently as he struggled to breathe; raising a trembling lanky hand to his torn throat, making a poor attempt at trying to stop the bleeding. The wound was deep, so much so it had gone through his trachea; blood gushing, spurting, and washing down into his lungs. He was choking, drowning in his own life force, and his vision was blurring; spots of black and red spattering the corners. He could barely hear properly now. All he could hear was his heart beating frantically against his ribcage, feeling like it’d burst forth out of his chest at any moment. Blood was flooding his mouth, gurgling and cascading down the corners of his lips as he tried to call out for help; ribbons of scarlet running out onto the ground, pooling under his head.

He was dying. He may have been feebly making an effort at trying to think clearly at the moment, but he knew his life was slipping away at a fast rate. And if he didn’t get help within the next couple of minutes, he would die here, drowning in a pool of his own blood.

Blinking slowly with his hearing fading in and out, he managed to make out faint voices coming from different directions, echoing in his head, each increasing in loudness and approaching him. He shifted his eyes slightly to just barely see a few figures standing around him, all of which looked very similar to himself; green hair and all, the only differences being the distinct outfits they each donned. He couldn’t make out any of the words they were saying, but judging from the gasps of horror and how they seemed to jump back in alarm, he knew they were all stunned by the sight of him. None of them were moving to help him – not because they didn’t want to but because they didn’t know how. Unexpectedly, the startling bang of someone bursting through a set of doors sounded throughout the room, a snappy German voice accompanying it.

“Alright, vhat is going on? Vhat is all the commotion about? Vhat is - ?! Jesus Christ!”

He didn’t see who had entered the room, let alone who was speaking, but given how the man was speaking, he had a sense the German had just now noticed his horrible condition. Through the red haze, he squinted slightly and struggled to see what looked like a doctor, who was now dropping to his knees and hovering over him.

“Jack? Jack, can you hear me buddy? Vhat happened?!” The doctor asked, panic evident in his voice.

The green-haired man tried to give a reply, but only a torrent of blood spluttered out of his mouth; staining his shirt and spewing out onto his hands. The good doctor’s eyes grew wide as saucers, snapping his fingers impatiently at the other figures standing behind him.

“Someone get zee stretcher NOW!” He snapped, not taking his eyes off of the man bleeding out onto the floor.

Henrik immediately tore off his coat, rolled it up, and forced it to the gaping wound in the paled YouTuber’s neck, adding pressure and trying to temporarily stop the flow of blood. He grabbed the man’s clammy hands and placed them over his coat as he stared at him intently.

“Keep pressure on zee vound, alright?” The German doctor jerked his head, looking over his shoulder. “Damn it! Vhere is the stretcher?!”

Almost as if on cue, the other egos came rushing towards him, wheeling a stretcher up to his side. Without having to give an order, the Irishman was carefully hauled off of the bloodstained ground and placed onto the stretcher before getting rushed through the exact same doors the doctor had entered from. His breathing was getting increasingly more raspy and shallow, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open, watching the blinding lights above him fly by at a blurring speed.

“Stay avake, Jack. Come on, don’t pass out on me, buddy!” He heard the doctor’s voice echo, pleading for him to stay conscious.

Bolting for the E.R., Dr. Schneeplestein and his associates pushed and pulled the stretcher towards a set of doors leading into the good doctor’s operating room; barging through the doors and wheeling Jack over to where the operating table stood waiting for him.

“Alright, buddy, come on. Come on.” Carefully yet urgently, the Irishman was lifted from the stretcher and put onto the table. Right at that moment, the man lurched and harshly coughed up a mouthful of blood; a gross wheezing breath following after it.

He heard the other green-haired men gasp, horrified at seeing him like this. As soon as blood fell from his lips, the doctor frowned and instantly whirled on his heel, raising his arms and motioning for everyone to leave.

“Get out! Everyone out! Everyone out now! Leave me to do my vork! Go!” He shouted, shoving his friends hurriedly towards the exit and out the doors before locking said doors. He could not afford to be bothered, not when he had to deal with his currently dying friend.

“NURSE! Get zee patient ready for surgery! Also, get me my coffee! I cannot vork vithout my caffeine intake!” The German shrieked.

Henrik didn’t waste time bolting for his surgical smock and mask, slipping them on in a hurry. He nearly tripped over his feet in the process at hearing the unpleasantly wet sounds coming from Jack practically drowning in his own bodily fluids. The doctor cursed repeatedly under his breath out of nervousness.

“Don’t vorry, my friend. You’re in good hands.” He said in the most reassuring voice he could muster as he rushed to the YouTuber’s side. He noticed how his supposed “nurse” – someone he claimed helped him numerous times even though they had never once been seen by anyone – hadn’t done as he had instructed, and he grimaced.

“Zhat stupid fucking bitch, never doing vhat is said. Goddamn it!” He groaned with irritation before giving Jack a reassuring smile. “I, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, vill fix you right up. Von’t zhat be nice, Jack? It be quick fix, I assure you. Zee doctor doesn’t lie.” He exclaimed before adjusting his mask over his nose and mouth, sliding on his glasses, and snapping on a pair of vinyl gloves.

Jack opened his reddened mouth in an attempt to speak, but the doctor pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head.

“Oh no, no, don’t speak. Can’t afford to vaste any energy.”  Schneeplestein stated, moving the green-haired man’s hands away from the lab coat that was pressed against his throat.

Cautiously, the doctor pulled the coat away to inspect the deep pulsating gash, globules of blood continuing to flow out. The German cursed, his hand shaking momentarily at seeing just how fatal the wound was. If it had been just a cut – nothing too deep – this would’ve been an easy fix. He could’ve had him stitched up within a matter of minutes. But this…this was serious…this was incredibly lethal. Jack didn’t just have major arteries severed; his windpipe had been slit open as well, only allowing a majority of his blood to escape through it.

The doctor swallowed the lump in his throat, letting out a breathy sigh. The man had had his rare cases of dealing with emergencies here and there, nothing extreme. But this…this was like nothing he had ever dealt with. He had never dealt with something as serious as this, let alone anything involving his friend – the one he and all of the other egos relied on. Jack had been the one to create each and every one of them, he gave them life. They all resided in a void invisible to the naked eye, the only individual able to access it being Jack. The egos remained happy living in their own individual fantasies, and Jack was the one who controlled this world they resided in. None of them had the power to control this world or Jack’s own body, only the Irishman could do that. However, with his subconscious here in the void, bleeding out fatally, Schneeplestein knew how incredibly horrific this was. It was crucial that his subconscious stay alive, stay in sync and attached to his body, because if not…if his subconscious died along with his physical body…

The German’s heart stuttered at the thought, his blood running cold. He needed to act fast, even if he wasn’t fully prepared. He needed to stitch him back up and relink him back to his body. He needed to take drastic measures NOW.

Pushing the coat back down over the cut and placing Jack’s hands over it once more, he instructed, “Do not let go of zhis, do you understand? Keep pressure on zee vound at all costs.”

Not being able to give an answer, the Irishman simply kept his dead-white hands over the coat just as he had been told. Instantly, Henrik whipped out a pair of scissors and cut open the man’s shirt, tearing it open before rushing around aimlessly; hooking him up to his monitors so he could keep a close eye on his vitals. Almost immediately, there was something noticeably wrong. For some reason, there was nothing – no breathing rate, no heart rate, no blood pressure, nothing. The doctor frowned with puzzlement. That was odd, maybe he hadn’t hooked him up correctly? Perhaps the machines weren’t working properly? Schneeple faced Jack, immediately checking to see if each of the pads were in the correct position. With his back turned, the doctor didn’t notice how all of the screens momentarily glitched out, all now reading the YouTuber’s vitals. At hearing the sound of the systems working, the doctor whirled around to get a good look, and instantly he took note of everything wrong with the green-haired man. He noticed how his heart rate was irregular, one minute spiking incredibly high and the next steadying down. His blood pressure was off the charts and his breathing was becoming worse as each second flew by.

“Fucking Christ, Jack, vhat did you do to yourself?” The German questioned, eyes shifting from the monitors back to his patient, who was growing worse in condition at an alarming rate.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn he noticed a petite smirk tugging at the Irishman’s crimson-stained lips, almost like he was amused for some unknown reason. Just as quick as that smirk had appeared, it disappeared as the man lurched again; turning his head to the side as another mouthful of blood projected out, splattering to the floor beneath. Analyzing the situation and taking note of just how horrible Jack’s breathing was, the doctor knew exactly what had to be done. He was going to have to perform both a tube thoracostomy and a tracheostomy. However, he had never once gone through with either procedure on a patient. He knew how both worked and what was involved, but he had never actually done either, which instantly overwhelmed him with anxiety. If he didn’t do either one of the operations correctly, one slip up would immediately kill Jack. But if he didn’t try, Jack would end up dying anyway.

There’s no time for this! The doctor scolded himself. You need to operate NOW or he is going to die! You cannot let him die!

Not having any time to fully run through his plan, Henrik realized he was going to have to take immediate action without first preparing the primary steps of the operation. He had learned in “Doctor College” that when it came to emergencies like this, he always had to remember ABC: Airway, Breathing, and Circulation. But given the current situation and of just how gruesome of a condition Jack was in, that order would have to change. Jack could barely breathe, what with his windpipe cut and having his lungs flooding with blood. The doctor had to first get him to breathe before he could even remotely think about fixing the wound. However, given how much little time he had on his hands, Henrik had absolutely no time to take out a marker and indicate where the incision would be made. If he did that, it’d only slice off a valuable chunk of time he’d need to save Jack. He would have to eyeball it.

The good doctor turned to a nearby stainless steel table and grabbed for a syringe, immediately filling it with anesthetic. He kept eyeing the green-haired man lying on his operating table as he did this, constantly estimating just how much time he had left. Once the syringe was full, he set the vial of anesthetic down, and with one hand holding the syringe, he used his free hand to move Jack’s left arm out of the way, exposing his bare side to him. Dr. Schneeplestein stared at the skin, eyeballing where he’d inject the needle before proceeding with the operation. After a brief moment of figuring out the exact spot, he pressed the needle into the Irishman’s side, right between where his ribs were. He felt the man tense up a bit under him, a soft whimper slipping past the Irishman’s bloody lips. Schneeple took a quick glance at him.

“Trust me, my friend, zhis is for your own good.” He pulled the syringe away, throwing it over onto the steel table before reaching for a scalpel. “Now I von’t lie – zhis vill probably hurt.”

Adjusting the overhead light and zeroing in on where he had injected the anesthetic, Henrik carefully pressed the blade of the scalpel into his flesh, making an incision in the direction of one of Jack’s ribs. Unfortunately for the YouTuber, the anesthetic hadn’t fully kicked in yet, and immediately, his entire body went rigid at the sudden pain; a choked gasp erupting from his slashed throat. With his free hand, the doctor tried to steady him; resting his hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I know, bear vith me here, please.” He said sincerely, his eyes never leaving the incision he was making.

Deeming the cut large enough, Henrik set the scalpel aside, reached for one of his Kelly clamps, and taking a worrisome glance at his patient, used the clamp to bluntly dissect a tract into the tissue; slowly pulling open the two flabs of muscle. Almost instantly, Jack’s breathing hitched and became far more uneven than it had been before. He was already in so much pain, but now with a new opening in his body, he really was starting to feel faint, and Schneeple could sense it. He patted his chest gently.

“You’re doing fine, Jack. Relax, it’ll be alright, I promise you zhis.” He cooed before inserting a gloved finger into the opening, making sure the tract ended at the upper border of Jack’s rib. He scoffed. “Vhen have I ever lied to you?”

The Irishman bit down on his lip at feeling this, his head throbbing as his vision began to swim. The pain was beginning to take a hold of him. Recognizing the signs and knowing he had to continue forward, the doctor extracted his finger and hurried to fill up a syringe with more anesthetic. Once full, he launched the vial of anesthetic away and over his shoulder, not at all caring where it went or if it damaged anything. He was far more concerned for Jack at the moment. He proceeded to insert it into the exposed muscles, knowing fully well that if he didn’t supply his patient with more anesthetic, he would lose him to the agony he was currently enduring. Once again carelessly chucking the syringe away, the doctor used a larger clamp to pry open the muscle, enlarging the dissected tract through all layers of the chest wall. At that moment, a considerable amount of blood spewed and gushed out onto the table; some absorbing into Jack’s jeans and managing to flow out over the side of the table, streaming down to the tiled flooring.

“Shit, shit, shit!” The doctor panicked momentarily, fumbling with a set of forceps as he tried to stop the unforeseen bleeding. The last thing he needed was for his patient to lose even more of his life force. As quickly as he could, he expertly closed off the severed vessels before continuing on with the operation.

“Nurse! Hook up zee drainage system, STAT!”

Schneeple inserted his finger again, probing Jack’s insides for lung tissue and possible adhesions. Audible wet and squishy sounds grew more in volume as the doctor continued to feel around the Irishman’s muscles and veins; little blood leaking out onto his gloved hand. He frowned, getting frustrated in not immediately finding any.

“Come on, come on! Vhere are you? Zhere’s no time for zhis!” Finally, he felt something and pulled out his finger, now dripping with gore.

Realizing how his “nurse” hadn’t set up the system he required, with not a moment to lose, the doctor searched the room for the drainage machine he’d need to use, noticing immediately how he had misplaced it.

“Fuck!” He shifted around awkwardly, not knowing whether to stabilize the incision first or take a risk and tear up the room for the damned machine he needed to SAVE JACK’S ASS!

Growling in frustration, Henrik bolted, running around the operating room, shoving things out of the way and trying to recall where he had left that blasted machine.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Zee one day somezhing incredibly urgent like zhis happens, and zee one zhing I need in order to do zhis is missing! Muzherfucka!” The foul-mouthed surgeon yelled, lashing out and swiping a whole month’s worth of important paperwork and instruments off of a nearby table.

Through his outburst, he made out the sound of constant bubbling and gurgling, followed by a harsh disgusting breath. He whipped his head up and directed his attention over to where his patient was lying in a pool of his own blood, immediately spotting the smile on the green-haired man’s face. Even though he was practically drowning, it almost seemed like the man was making an effort to laugh. The doctor grimaced, both put off and not understanding how the man could be finding any of this funny.

“Oh vell, good to see someone is enjoying himself, even zhough zhat someone is currently in the process of DYING!” He snapped, scrambling around for the equipment he needed. “Vhat is so funny? Is it the lightheadedness? I zhink you’ve lost too much blood zhere, Jack. But don’t vorry about zhat, ve’ll deal vith zhat in a moment. Very easy fix, I assure you.” He stated, even though deep down, he admittedly had his doubts.

Coincidentally, under the table he stood by was the machine he required and instantly, he didn’t hesitate. He hauled the machine off the ground and dashed back over to his bleeding patient. After fumbling with the equipment, he grabbed the tubing and returned his attention to the gaping hole in Jack’s side. Using the clamp to widen the opening a bit further, the doctor carefully began to feed the thoracic catheter through the hole, gently pushing it through the Irishman’s muscles and into his chest cavity; a gross nauseating squish emitting from it. Some blood gushed out of the hole, oozing out onto Dr. Schneeplestein’s gloved hands, but he didn’t care. As soon as he knew the tube had managed to slip all the way inside, he flipped on the switch for the machine, instantly watching the tube flood with crimson warm blood; rushing out of Jack’s lung and into the jug down at Henrik’s feet.

“Ha ha! Vunderbar!” The doctor let out an abrupt nervous laugh at this, not believing how his plan had worked…that was until he noticed how Jack was breathing both shallowly and rapidly.

The doctor’s brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get a chance to get anything out. With no warning, the lights flickered for a fleeting moment, followed shortly by a sharp ringing erupting in his ears. Henrik yelped at the sudden pain, hands flying up to his ears to block out the noise. His eyes went from Jack to wildly searching around the room, wondering where the ringing was coming from. The lights flickered once more, except this time they blacked out. Everything powered down – the monitors, the drainage system, everything. Now was the time to panic.

With no lights or equipment, there was no possible way for the doctor to continue working on Jack. He couldn’t see a single thing in the room; it was pitch-black. All he could hear was the constant ear-piercing ringing, as well as Jack’s wet gurgling breaths and his own breathing, which was beginning to increase now.

“Oh come ON! Zhis can’t be happening! Zhere’s no time for zhis bullshit!” The doctor exclaimed with anger, not daring to move from where he was since he couldn’t see anything around him.

Through the ringing that was driving him crazy, very faintly he managed to make out a giggle. An eerie childish giggle that made the hairs on the back of the doctor’s neck stand up on end.

“Hello? Who’s zhere?” He called out into the darkness. “Zhis is no time for joke! I svear to God, if you’re responsible for all of zhis, I vill kill you!”

Another giggle sounded, coming from right beside the German; becoming distorted and scratchy this time. He jumped with alarm, shoving his hands in the direction of where the giggle came from, but didn’t come into contact with anything. His heart was thudding against his ribcage madly, fear seeping into his veins. He literally did not have any time for this. If the power didn’t come on soon, it would be too late. Suddenly, the lights and monitors returned to life, and he found himself standing over the operating table, looking down on his patient. However, something was very wrong.

The patient he was staring down at wasn’t Jack anymore – it was himself. There he lay with his wrists and ankles bound to the table; restrained from any movement. He was unconscious and his mask, glasses, and cap had been removed. The doctor stood there in both alarm and confusion, not understanding what was happening. What was going on? Why was he staring down at a copy of himself? Hadn’t he been operating on Jack a moment ago?

Henrik went to move, only to realize he couldn’t; his hands didn’t react to the order. Watching with wide eyes, he felt himself reach for an orbitoclast – an ice pick-like instrument used for lobotomies – resting on the table beside him. He grabbed it along with the small hammer settled beside it, moving himself into position; hovering right over the head of his duplicate. Instantly, the doctor’s heart rate spiked. He could hear his blood rushing through his ears loudly as he helplessly raised the pick over the duplicate’s right eye, aiming it right for the corner of his eye socket.

At that precise moment, to his surprise, the doctor watched the eyes of his copy shift under his eyelids before fluttering open, directly looking up at him with confusion first, before having the compromising, vulnerable situation he was currently in dawn over him. The poor man started writhing on the table, violently tugging and pulling at his restraints, trying desperately to break free and get away from the man who was about to lobotomize him. His eyes even began to water from fear of what was going to be done to him, shaking his head repeatedly, and pleading out for release. Henrik was horrified at the sight. His nerves were rattling from shock, a tremor of true full-blown disturbance burrowing its way through his body. He couldn’t do this – whether it was actually happening or not, he could NOT DO THIS!

Struggling to restrain himself and gain control over his own body, Dr. Schneeplestein desperately tried to pull himself away from the table. Feeling like a puppet having his strings tugged at, the doctor watched as he took a moment to grab the man by the hair and violently bash the back of his head into the table, momentarily putting a stop the copy’s struggles. Henrik then bore witness to complete and utter horror as he suddenly brought the hammer down, impaling the orbitoclast through the corner of his copy’s eye. Blood spurted out and into his face, causing him to flinch and gasp in alarm; a hair-raising scream getting ripped from the duplicate of himself. He watched as a line of crimson weaved out of the wound as he hammered away at the pick, feeling, seeing, and hearing it sink further into his copy’s skull; a loud crack erupting very suddenly. Henrik’s breaths were coming out laboured and rather shaken now, heart pounding harshly as he felt bile rise in his throat. He felt like he was going to be sick.

And very suddenly, with a blink of his eyes, he found himself hovering over a bleeding-out Jack; the duplicate of himself nowhere in sight, nor were the lobotomy tools he’d just used. Panting wildly, the doctor’s eyes flew across the entire operating room; trying to decipher if this was real time and that none of what he just seen and endured had actually happened. The German took a moment to take in deep breaths, having been scarred by what he had just gone through. What the hell had that been about? What had caused that? Why had he suddenly blacked out and had some sort of vision of him giving a copy of himself a lobotomy – all while operating on Jack, no less?

He couldn’t come up with a reason as to why any of that had happened, let alone why it had felt so incredibly vivid, like it had in fact actually happened. He didn’t have time to dwell too much on the thought either, given how he instantly noticed how his patient was breathing shallowly.

Henrik watched the Irishman intently, dismay gleaming in his eyes and fear panging in his chest. “Jack? Jack, buddy? Are you…Are you still vith me?” He lightly tapped him with a bloodied hand. “Jack?” He scoffed, a light chuckle coming from him, although it was very obviously laced with concern. “C-Come on, zhis is no time to be joking around vith me. I’m trying to save your life, you know!”

There was no response. He scanned his body, taking notice of how he was shaking all over, he was sweating profusely, and how his lips and fingertips had quickly become blue – when had that happened?! For a brief moment, Henrik’s brows furrowed in confusion, not yet entirely piecing everything together. And what was that irritating beeping sound? Where the hell was that coming from? It was agitating him greatly.

“For fuck’s sake, vhat is zhat blasted noise?! I can’t vork vith such racket!” He turned to see what was causing the sound and in seconds flat, the poor doctor felt his stomach drop.

Oh no…..No, no, no, no, NO!

The heart monitor – it was going off like mad! Jack’s heart rate was skyrocketing, racing wildly, struggling to keep pumping blood throughout his body. Dr. Schneeplestein immediately whirled around to face his patient, FINALLY concluding what was so horrible about was happening. Too much blood was getting into his lungs – He couldn’t breathe! He was going into hypovolemic shock! The green-haired man’s eyes were shifting back and forth weakly, his eyelids fluttering for a moment before slipping shut; falling unconscious from both the pain he was in and the blood loss.

The doctor’s eyes shot open in horror, shaking his head rapidly. “No…No, no, no, NO! Zhis cannot be! Zhis isn’t happening! I can fix zhis! I can fix zhis!” He repeated to himself aloud, trying to return some hope to himself.

In a hurry, he crudely stitched up the gaping hole in the man’s side; securely keeping the blood-filled tube in place and pricking his finger more than once while doing so. As soon as he did this, he didn’t at all hesitate to fall into phase two. The Irishman needed air, and with his trachea cut, there was no way for him to breathe properly. Hastily the doctor moved his scrunched up, now completely blood-soaked coat away from Jack’s throat and threw it clear across the room. Luckily, much of the bleeding had stopped, but there was still some coming; leaking out and oozing through Henrik’s vinyl-covered fingers. He felt for the man’s pulse, both feeling and seeing it throbbing at a rapid pace.

“Shite!” The surgeon cursed, a crimson-covered hand reaching for his scalpel once more. He let out a shaky breath as he went to make an incision into the YouTuber’s neck, a little below where the wound was. His hands were trembling now, dread and a terrible nauseating wave of despair settling into his gut. He shook his head, trying to stay focused. “Alright…Alright, Schneeple, come on. You can do zhis, huh? Zhis isn’t a problem; you can fix zhis easy.” He kept attempting to convince himself as he reached for a clamp and stretched open the muscles of his patient’s throat; exposing his trachea to him.

Almost immediately, at seeing this and the amount of blood pouring out, Schneeplestein gagged and instantly flung backward, bringing a glove-clad hand to his mouth and nearly stumbling over the wires and cables of his equipment in the process.

“Vhat ze fuck?!” The doctor screamed abruptly, his breathing coming out laboured and rather shaken. He stared in horror at the body on the operating table, not caring or seeming to notice how he now had blood smeared over his mask. What he saw was not normal – nothing he’d learned in “Doctor College”, that’s for certain. No, nothing about what he’d seen was of human biology.

When he went to open up Jack’s throat, blood wasn’t the only thing to leak out – some sort of black slime-like substance gushed out along with it. And that wasn’t all. Weaving out all along the man’s trachea were what looked like veins, but they weren’t red or blue; they were a festering green, spots of black plaguing the entire windpipe. The entire thing looked severely infected, the muscle around it only looking just as bad; lines of black branching out and pulsating with darkness. He could’ve sworn he had seen something slither underneath the muscle as well. It was almost like there was something living beneath the skin and inside the veins, like a parasite was involved. But what kind of parasite could do this to a human being?

Feeling his heart thump with trepidation and beads of perspiration coming to his forehead, Henrik barely collected himself and approached the table, eyeing the abnormality of Jack’s throat before taking nervous glances back at the heart monitor. Realizing his time was dissipating expeditiously, the doctor couldn’t let this disturbing discovery get in the way of the task at hand. He only had so much time, and if he didn’t do something now, he’d probably lose another patient on this operating table.

His heart jumped at that thought. He had lost many patients before, and every time it had left a brand new scar in his chest; forever fueling him with guilt. But if Jack – his best friend – were to suddenly become no different than any of those other patients he had failed to revive…If he weren’t able to save the man who was responsible for himself and the other egos…

He felt his heart give another painful pang as tears threatened to come to his eyes. He shut his eyes for a quick moment, shaking his head.

“No…No! Stop it! Get your head in zee game! You can save him. You VILL save him!” A clenched fist came down onto the nearby table fiercely, a loud abrupt bang coming from the impact. It was very evident at this point that the doctor was becoming increasingly more frustrated.

Noticing how Jack’s chest was barely even moving anymore, Schneeple immediately set back to work. With bloodied hands, he rustled around for his haemostatic forceps; finding them blindly. Adjusting the overhead light so he could get a better view, ever so carefully he tried to close off any vessels; attempting to keep the blood flow to an all-time low. He then proceeded to place his set of tracheal dilators through the opening, expanding it by turning the screw; widening the incision further. As soon as the contraption pulled open the space, Henrik noticed his vision throb and start to swim for a moment; the light above him flickering unsteadily once again. He blinked, shaking his head and struggling to stay focused.

What’s going on? Why are you having such trouble concentrating? He questioned himself, transfixed on the pulsing blackened veins coiled around Jack’s trachea. Come on, focus. Focus, damn it!

But that was easier said than done. His head felt heavy all of a sudden, the edges of his vision going black. He blinked slowly, everything blurring for a quick moment before a wave of glitches abruptly scattered over Jack’s neck right before the doctor’s own eyes. The light flickered spastically as Henrik’s heart pounded in his ears, watching something pulse throughout the green-haired man’s throat. He found himself fascinated and reaching a gloved finger into the black and green trachea, the open wound squelching and sucking his finger in. His eyes widened, gleaming with disgust and horror as he slowly pulled his finger and thumb back, extracting a long thick string of blackened organic matter; some veins still linked to it and getting stretched out the more the string was pulled. Bile rose in his throat, a wave of nausea hitting him dead on. His fist-sized organ of innocence gave a painful jolt within his chest at the sight. This was beyond disturbing for him; this was beyond what he could handle. His vision glitched out again when he went to blink, the darkened string that he had pulled from the man’s throat completely gone.

Dr. Schneeplestein stumbled backward, reaching a hand back to steady himself on a nearby table only for that table to wheel away and cause him to collapse to the ground. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the body on his operating table, noticing a stream of black oozing out from the cut in Jack’s throat and running down his arm, which was outstretched and hanging limply over the edge of the table. The poor surgeon couldn’t even begin to understand what the hell was going on. He felt like he was living in a horror movie, scared beyond comprehension. This was too much; he was going to go insane! He shut his eyes for a brief moment, trying desperately to calm his heart and steady his breathing, but to no avail. For Christ’s sake, his hands were trembling! He couldn’t work like this; it would only lead into disaster!

The German doctor reached up for the ledge of a stable table, pulling himself up onto his wobbly weak-kneed legs. Stumbling forward, he dashed for a nearby counter and grabbed for his mug of stale coffee, which surely must’ve been lukewarm at this point. He then flew open every cupboard door, tossing anything and everything out until he finally found what he needed: a bottle of diethyl ether. Letting out a shaky on-the-verge-of-having-a-mental-breakdown breath of air, Schneeple hurried to unscrew the cap, throw it off to the side somewhere, yank his mask off, and take several big gulps of the fluid; not at all giving a damn how he was resorting to intoxicating himself in hopes to calm himself down enough. Pulling himself back from the bottle, the man poured a vast amount of the drug into his coffee; filling the mug to the brim before setting the bottle aside and taking a gulp of his drink. Staggering back over to the operating table and nearly slipping in the puddles of blood surrounding it, the doctor slammed down his mug of drugged coffee onto the nearby steel table; beginning to feel the effects of the drug kicking in.

“Alright…Okay…Pull yourself togezher, man!” The unsteady, increasingly disoriented surgeon shouted at himself, making a poor attempt to stand up straight. He lazily readjusted his mask on his face and looked back at his patient, using a bloodied hand to pat his shoulder gently. “Don’t vorry, buddy. Everyzhing is okay, everyzhing is alright. Death is overrated – who needs zhat?” He squinted slightly, his vision blurring for a brief moment. “Are you in pain, buddy? Can you feel anyzhing?” He was evidently intoxicated at this point, proven by how he barely recalled how Jack was currently unconscious. He leaned forward, moving a hand to get a better look at the inside of his throat. “Easy fix….Easy fix….” He muttered to himself over and over.

While being cautious to keep anymore blood from escaping, the good doctor leaned over to grasp a tracheal tube, which would allow Jack to breathe when inserted. Carefully, he wedged the tube through the opening of his trachea; granting the YouTuber a temporary airway until his neck could be fixed thoroughly. Much blood was covering Henrik’s hands now; lines of still warm wet crimson running down his arms. Some had managed to also spurt out on his chest during the procedure, but he hadn’t taken any notice in it; all of his attention had been transfixed on fixing Jack. Once the tube had been successfully inserted, he leaned back and let out a sigh of relief, running the back of his gore-drenched hand across his exposed forehead, leaving a long thick smear of blood and matter on his pale skin. His eyes went from the tube to the wide-open gash in the Irishman’s throat. Only one thing left to fix. He could do this, he could do this, he could –

Beeeeeeeeeeeeep…..

Dr. Schneeplestein immediately jerked his head in the direction of the heart monitor, alarmed and horrified to see that the line had suddenly dropped flat. There was no pulse and the man wasn’t breathing anymore! His stomach dropping at the sound, the doctor didn’t even stop to think first; he dropped his tools and raced for the defibrillator, just barely tripping over any cables. In seconds flat he was at the Irishman’s side, immediately setting up the defibrillator and putting gel onto the paddles. Cranking up the machine and charging the paddles, Schneeple quickly moved his mask and grabbed for his mug of ether-laced coffee; downing another two gulps of the liquid. Wasting no time, he picked up the paddles, rubbed them together fiercely before pressing down hard onto Jack’s chest; a violent electrical shock getting sent through his body. He listened for any sigh of a pulse, but there was none. He pulled back and recharged the paddles, rubbed them together once more, and tried again; another jolt of electricity striking the YouTuber’s heart. Still nothing.

“Come on, damn it! You vill not die on me, do you hear me?! Not today!” The unhinged surgeon burst out of fear. He recharged the paddles, rubbed them again, and sent another shock into the man. “Stay vith me, buddy, come on! I vill not let you die! You cannot die on me!” He waited a moment before giving him another violent shock. “If you go down, ve all go down vith you! Damn it, Jack! Come on! Vake up!” Another shock.

Repeatedly the doctor tried desperately to restart his friend’s heart, refusing to let him go that easily. And he wasn’t lying – if Jack’s subconscious died here and now, then Schneeple and the other egos were at a high risk of dying along with him. He needed to live in order for them to continue living, there was no other way! As the good German doctor continued with his poor efforts, he didn’t take notice of how the YouTuber’s fingertips were twitching slightly, almost in a spastic manner every few seconds. He also didn’t notice how the lower half of the man glitched out intensely for a slight second, like something was trying to remain stable…

Tears were coming to the doctor’s eyes with each attempt, and he was trying so hard at holding them back, knowing this was no time for crying. He was truly beginning to lose hope at a fast rate, an overwhelming sense of despair suffocating him and clouding his already intoxicated mind. Any and all confidence he had had at the start was completely one hundred percent gone – totally nonexistent. He was failing as a doctor, failing to save his friend Jack – the man responsible for him and the other egos. He could not live whatever would remain of his life with Jack’s blood on his hands – both literally and figuratively speaking. He would truly die on the inside, and it would only prove how much of a failure and a humiliation he was as a doctor to both his wife and kids, who had already left him a month ago. The poor man was already broken; he couldn’t afford to lose the one person who still viewed him with respect.

“Jack, please.” He pleaded through tear-blurred eyes. “I need you, buddy.” He blinked, a few tears running down his cheeks. “Ve all need you!”

Finally, with one more jolt of electricity through to the Irishman’s heart, there was a pulse; the line on the monitor spiking slightly. Jack’s chest slowly but surely began to rise and fall steadily, air getting to him through the tube Schneeplestein had surgically implanted into him. His heart beat was very low and just barely there, but it would give the doctor enough time. Flinging the defibrillator paddles away and taking another long gulp of his ether coffee, Henrik dove for the man’s throat, FINALLY setting to work on closing off his major arteries.

“Yes! Come on, buddy, don’t fail me just yet! Zhere’s still hope! All of zhis vill be over soon, I svear on my name!” He exclaimed, sealing the YouTuber’s arteries shut and closing his trachea. “You’re not dead yet, zhere’s still plenty of time to fix!”

He had gone and set up an IV for the Irishman, inserting the needle into his arm and getting new blood into his body before proceeding to suture up the slit in his neck. It was right at that moment when he felt his heart jolt harshly in his chest, followed by something warm and wet running from his nose. Getting a whiff of copper, he dragged his mask downward and ran the back of his sleeve along his nose, watching as a smear of red showed up. Before he even had time to question the bizarre occurrence, the doctor’s heart gave another pang of pain, and his vision started to swim once more, much worse than earlier. The lights were starting to flicker again, an icy cold gust of air now circulating the room and causing the poor surgeon to shudder violently. Faintly, voices echoed throughout the back of his mind, all distorted yet overlapping each other. He had a difficult time deciphering what they were whispering to him, but he managed to make out a few words.

“K-Kill….”

          “H-He’s d-dead alre-eady…”

“Gr-rant…”

       “Can’t sa-a-ave him…”

“YoU iDioT!”

              “M-Me…”

                                          “D-Dead…"

“G-Give…l-li-ife…”

                            “Access…”

“LeT ME iN!”

                       “D-Dead in-inside…”

            “FiNIsH IT!”

The doctor was feeling nauseated, his head spinning and like the world was tilting on its side. His breaths were increasing in speed, as was his heartbeat. His vision was fading in and out as he desperately tried to focus on fixing his patient. The instruments upon his steel table began to rattle with no explainable reason as to why, and a few of the lights were bursting; sparks flying through the air with each explosion. He could make out the heart monitor going off like mad, before slowing down considerably, daring to fall flat again. Henrik panted and growled, shutting his eyes and shaking his head.

“No….No! I’ve had enough!” He grabbed his mug of coffee and downed the rest before bolting up and throwing it across the room into the main doors out of a sudden burst of rage. “Fuck it! Zhis is it! I’m ending zhis NOW!”

Though the words getting hissed into his ear were taunting him repeatedly and everything occurring around him was driving him into madness, the doctor didn’t let any of it stop him this time. Not even when he looked to Jack’s open neck to see black sludge leak out. Grabbing his needle and thread and readjusting the head light for the last time, Dr. Schneeplestein pricked the man’s shredded flesh; hooking the needle through the layer of muscle and pulling at it from the other side. In and out the needle went, getting repeatedly stabbed into the sickeningly pale blood-smeared skin; crudely stitching the gaping wound shut. Blood stained the doctor’s fingers and he pricked himself more than once, but he remained focused, even though his vision was seriously beginning to fade out. With each stitch, there was a violent glitch from the patient’s lower half; his fingers twitching and curling inward. And with the doctor’s attention on Jack, he didn’t notice let alone hear the heart monitor glitch out behind him; lines of static weaving out across the screen.

“Come on….Come on…Zhere ve go.”

With the wound now finished, he took a step back, chucking the gore-soaked needle off onto the table; letting out a shaky, tired breath of exhaustion. He stood there and kept his eyes fixed on Jack, hoping like hell he’d give a response, or better – wake up.

Unexplainably, everything came to a halt. The lights all shut off only then to return back on. His equipment and instruments were no longer shaking. His vision adjusted back to normal and the voices he had been hearing faded almost immediately. Henrik slowly approached the table, tearing his surgical mask away from his face as he stared down at his friend, waiting impatiently for a sign.

“Jack?…Jack, buddy?…Can you hear me?”

No response. He gently shook his shoulder.

“Jack?”

Unknowingly to the doctor, from behind him, the heart monitor suddenly glitched out violently, only then to reveal the heart rate going at a normal, steady pace. With a start, Jack’s eyes flew open and he lurched forward, gasping for air. Blink and anyone would miss it, but for a fleeting second, the eyes of the Irishman flashed a sickening neon green. And unfortunately, the doctor had in fact blinked.

“Jack! Oh zhank Christ, you’re alive!” Henrik shouted with relief, putting a hand over his own chest to steady his poor heart.

The green-haired man on the bloodied table blinked, turning his head slightly to notice the doctor before turning his attention downward; taking in the sight of his condition. The hose securely stitched into the side of his ribs, the blood all over his pants and the table, the feeling of the breathing tube in his neck…

Slowly, the YouTuber shrugged his shoulders, leaned back on his arms, and carefully sat up, Schneeple assisting him.

“Careful, you’re still in very bad shape.” The doctor cautioned. “Don’t vant any of your stitches coming undone.”

Sitting hunched over on the crimson-drenched table now, the Irishman gently moved his neck from side to side, testing out his limits of movement; feeling a painful stinging stretch in his neck muscles at moving too much. Letting out a raspy sigh, the man slowly lifted his hands, sticky with his own blood. He looked down at them, rotating his wrists and getting a good look at both the front and back of them. He clenched his fingers, almost seeming like he was testing them out…

Almost like he was adjusting to his body for the very first time…

Henrik reached for his blood-spattered glasses and pulled them off, letting out a shaky breath as he set them off to the side. He kept his eyes on Jack, scanning his body for any signs of something wrong.

“Do you feel alright? Pain is to be expected and is completely normal, and you cannot leave until full recovery.” He advised.

He didn’t receive a response; Jack was still looking over his hands and then down at his bare, crimson-speckled chest. He seemed to be taking in everything, at least that’s what Schneeple thought. Given everything that had happened, he’d understand why his friend was acting so strange.

“So…how do you feel?”

The Irishman flexed his fingers once more, gently rolling his shoulders back as he did so. A deep rumbly groan came from his throat, almost sounding like he was pleased. After a long pause, a small smirk tugged at the corner of the man’s lips as he shifted his eyes to the doctor who had stitched him together – who had resurrected him.

The doctor who had granted him access.

“Like I could take on the world.”

Part 5 - Say Goodbye

Part 7 - Patience

@fear-is-nameless @golden-eyed-guardians @n-o-ra-xi @steffid101

@jse-fandom-protection-squad

@butterlover328

@nuclear-squiggles

@septic-obsessed

[jiangsspace]

Kim Taehyung | You Are I, I am you

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Word count: 928

Genre: fluff

“When are you coming home?“ you asked raising your eyebrows and giving him a sweet smile. He wrapped himself tighter in the yellow blanket looking more and more like a sunflower. "I’m coming home to you as soon as we wrap up the dance practice and the briefing. Don’t start that movie without me”, he bobbed his head from side to side as he watched your expression.

“What if I do start the movie without you?” you were merely testing his reaction which he gave you. An adorable pout graced his face with the long hair acting as a curtain for the beautiful eyes he had. “Please don’t” he laughed throwing his head back and revealed his white set of teeth. “Just come quickly!” you exclaimed with an exaggerated sigh and a pout.

It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when the door opened revealing a tired Taehyung. He called for you two times before you attacked his waist with a tender hug. You walked arm in arm to the living room and Taehyung collapsed onto the sofa rubbing his weary eyes. “I’m too tired to watch a movie. Can’t we just talk?” you sat down next to him after handing him a bottle of water and a painkiller for his aching body. He thanked you by placing a wet kiss on the palm of your hand.

“Where would I be without you?” he mumbled into your hand which tickled a lot. You giggled trying to wriggle your hand out of his grip but he wouldn’t let go. “I’m serious y/n. This is where I want to be in twenty years.” He kept mumbling and kissing your hand. “And where is that?” you scooted closer to him motioning to put his head on your lap. “Picture this”, waving his arms around for you to see exactly where he wanted to be.

“Coming home from another tiring day at the studio I would collapse onto the sofa and close my eyes for a second. Just a second, I would swear. The door would open and close once again two hours later. "Taehyung?” your sweet voice could be heard but I would still be fast asleep probably snoring. You would walk up to the sofa and shake me lightly while handing me a glass of cool water. “Hey, you’re awake”, you would smile giving me a kiss on the cheek. Then we would sit like this and talk about our day. I would try and make you laugh with my jokes and you would laugh because I’d be making a fool of myself. Then I would kiss your hand again and confess my love to you.“

Listening to his scenario made your heart sing and have butterflies in your stomach. All that time you were stroking his hair to reveal his forehead and just playing with his long locks. A tear fell down your cheek and he caught it wiping it away with his thumb. "Y/N? Why are you crying?” a concerned yet slightly amused look was plastered on his face. You sniffed unable to say anything. “Please don’t cry. Was it something I said?” You kept shaking your head and closing your eyes to keep the tears from blurring your vision.

The scenario he had described was beautiful and it touched your heart. “What would we be wearing?” you sniffled. He smiled and told you in detail all of the colorful and pretty clothes you two would match together with an extremely detailed description of the accessories. You chuckled when he mentioned Gucci watches and rings you would sport. You nodded your head keeping your eyes closed imagining the outfits.

Music would be playing and the two of you would then dance hand in hand all across the room and laughing as if tomorrow would never come. It would be just you and him. And maybe… Just maybe.

You wanted to ask him about children, but were too afraid to bring it up. Instead, you held an uncomfortable smile while pondering if you really should ask him. Seeing your face suddenly change, he got up and held your face in his delicate hands his long fingers brushing your flushed cheeks. “Tell me what’s on your mind”, he commanded with a soft stern voice. A moment of silence fell between the two of you which made things worse. His gaze pierced through you. He wasn’t mad that you were sad. Mainly intrigued by everything. What was so secret that you couldn’t say it comfortably? Finally you opened your mouth.

“When we’ll be dancing in our living room, hand in hand in our Gucci outfits will there be any little replicas of you?” obviously avoiding the word child you looked at him in the eyes with a nervous look. Seeing his face light up you mustered up some more courage to look at him square in the eyes without wavering. Still stroking your cheeks he just laughed and nodded vigorously. “Were you scared to ask whether or not we would have children?” your face lit up and you turned your gaze down in embarrassment. “I love you”, his serious voice startled you and your eyes shot up to meet his. “You are I, I am you”, you responded.

The warm night air suddenly entered and brushed the area where his thumb and your cheek connected. The night was peaceful and the cherries blossomed. The two of you stayed by the window seated on the sofa for a while in silence just thinking about all the confessions.

You are I, I am you.

[nilesarchives]

You Got The Right Stuff ― NOT CANON. (second verse: niles lite)

At Miles’ mother’s second wedding, he and Nick sneak away from the celebration to try and forget the events of the night before — by going a whole step further and hooking up in Miles’ new stepdad’s car. Vaguely NSFW, but skips over most of it. Also there’s NKOTB.

Nick thought that the wedding seemed to go by so quickly for how long it took for the couple to plan it. It was still really nice, though, and there was something about weddings that just made you feel good. Miles’ Mom and her new husband Greg seemed really happy, and although Nick hadn’t ever spoken to the man, he didn’t seem like a bad guy. After awhile of talking with his brother, Nick wandered off to get a drink, and it was only on his way back that he spotted Miles for the first time since the ceremony. Without thinking about it, he walked over to him. Even if this was the first time speaking to him since the night before on the man’s Birthday. “Hey!” Nick exclaimed, hoping it was okay to be excited about the wedding and hoping Miles didn’t feel too weird about his Mom getting remarried. “Finally get to say congratulations on the wedding. It was really nice. Your Mom did a good job.”

Miles was blown away by how quickly it all went by. It seemed like it was just yesterday that his mom was introducing him to Greg for the first time, and now he was his stepdad. Miles still didn’t like it; it was definitely going to take some getting used to. But his mom was happy, and that was all that mattered, really. The day started out stressful but went by smoothly. Miles was surprised he was able to pull himself together since he couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. His memory was spotty, but a few things were for sure: he’d embarrassed himself by trying to kiss Nick, Nick brought him home, Nick left, Miles called Murphy…and the rest was sort of a blur. Miles didn’t remember a single thing about it until he woke up with a tattoo he didn’t remember getting. He resigned not to tell anyone about it today, because this day wasn’t about him. He’d deal with it later. Now, he was trying to distract himself from all of that by saying hello to family members he hadn’t seen in a while and getting to know Greg’s family, albeit reluctantly. He was relieved when Nick came up to save him from the torture, but also unsure of how this was going to go. “Hey,” he replied, nodding at him. “Yeah, it was cool. She’s really happy.” He found his mom across the room, smiling as she talked to someone Miles didn’t recognize, which proved his point and made him grin himself. “I’m glad it’s everything she wanted.” He turned his attention back to Nick, raising his eyebrows. “Did you get to meet Greg yet?”

Nick was only a guest at the wedding. Him and Murphy didn’t have to deal with all the stress and family drama of it all. Truth be told, because of that he didn’t think they’d get to see Miles at all. Despite all of the weirdness that had transpired between them lately, though, he wasn’t going to not say hi to his friend. They did say they weren’t going to ignore each other anymore. Nick was just holding true to that promise. “She looks like it.” He nodded, turning his head to follow Miles’ gaze across the room and to her. She deserved to be happy; hopefully this Greg guy would be good for her. “Greg? No.” He shook his head once he turned back to Miles, laughing as he did so. “I’ve seen him, though. It’s good to finally put a face to the name.” He wasnt expecting him to look so much like, well, a Dad. But he’d just keep that observation to himself. “I thought he seemed nice. I’m not wrong, am I?”

Miles sighed, turning back again to look for Greg. Sure enough, he was right by Miles’ mom. He supposed he’d have to get used to that. “He’s…something. He can be nice but he’s usually a douche. I don’t know. He did already buy he a few drinks tonight, though. Seems like a bribe if you ask me, but I’m not complaining.” He wasn’t going to drink nearly as much as he had last night, that was for sure. Which got him thinking about the events again, and he brought a hand up to run the back of his neck. “Anyway, um…listen, man. About last night. I was—I was pretty drunk. I’m sorry I got all weird and stuff.” He didn’t want to ruin their night before it really began, but he really wanted to get this out of the way so it didn’t come back later. At least they weren’t ignoring each other.

Nick listened as he talked about Greg; noticing how annoyed he seemed with the man already. But he figured Miles had the right to be. It was his Mom the dude married, after all. “If he’s offering, you might as well just enjoy it.” He nodded, playing along in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Maybe you can get him to buy you a pony next. See how far he’ll go.” Nick had been drinking a little himself throughout the evening, but suddenly Miles mentioning alcohol was making him antsy. He tried not to think about last night, and he assumed Miles would do the same. Here he was apologizing, though, which didn’t really set right because it wasn’t really his fault. “You don’t have to be sorry.” He began slowly, feeling awkward as hell. “You were drunk, and I’d been drinking. If anything I should be apologizing.” He paused, shrugging. “It was an accident.” Although it definitely didn’t feel like that at the time. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, part curious and part just trying to change the subject. “No monstrous after Birthday hangover you had to suffer through?”

Miles nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe he’ll pay off all my student loans if I hate him just enough.” He didn’t miss how the mood shifted as soon as he mentioned the night before. Nick seemed just as uncomfortable as he was himself. “Right. Yeah. It was an accident,” he repeated, even though it definitely wasn’t. But Miles knew this wasn’t the time to fight it. So once again, forgive and forget. “This morning was pretty awful,” he admitted, remembering it being near impossible to drag himself out of bed. “But I got here. And it was worth it, ‘cause I told you I look nice as hell in a tux.” He motioned to the whole outfit, emphasizing his point.

Nick smiled. “Now you’re talking.” He hadn’t really been expecting to talk about last night at all, but a large part of him was relieved that Miles brought it up, because some time between last night and this morning Nick had convinced himself that Miles would think he was some kind of creep who got his friends drunk so he could mack on them. It had only been the one kiss, sure, but Nick had kissed back. And he could at least admit to himself now that he hasn’t wanted to stop. “Right.” Nodding as Miles agreed that it was an accident, even if Nick didn’t fully buy it himself, he didn’t say any more. “Man, I’m sorry. Feel like I should have left a case of water for you so you could have drowned it away.” He wasn’t sure if that would have actually helped, but people seem to think getting plenty of fluids is a cure all. As Miles motioned toward his outfit, Nick couldn’t help his gaze from following along. Once he realized what he was doing, though, he forced his eyes back up to his face. “I’m not gonna lie. You look pretty good.” He nodded as he spoke honestly, possibly a little too honestly. “When’s the last time you even had to wear a tux? I’ve known you for how many years?” He questioned, only teasing. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you so formal. Half of me thought you’d show up in a tuxedo T-shirt.”

Miles was glad they could at least talk about it this time without having to ignore each other for a month beforehand. He wished he could say that something like this would never happen again so he didn’t have to worry about it, but that was what he’d said the last time. Now, it was at least nice to know that if it did happen, they could talk about it and move on. “It’s fine. I had water. I just…I didn’t actually get to sleep until really late.” He wasn’t going to mention the fact that he went back out with Murphy after Nick left, not yet anyway. Though he was surprised he didn’t already know since he lived with the guy. “It ended up being fine, though.” Miles tried not to notice Nick looking at him until his gaze flickered back up to his face, but he didn’t have much luck pretending not to see it. It caught him off guard because he’d only been joking, and now he felt his face get red. He just prayed it wasn’t that noticeable. It was only when Nick spoke again that Miles came back to reality. “Oh, um…I’m not sure. It’s been a while.” He shrugged. “I had one for prom, but I didn’t end up needing it.” His prom date bailing on him last minute was a well-known story. Miles was over it now, but still sort of pissed he never got to wear the tux. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one, actually.”

Nick wasn’t really sure what to say to him, and if anything weird happened between them again Nick was fairly certain that feeling wouldn’t change. It was hard to act like everything was completely normal after kissing his friend. Twice. Still, though, it was a hell of a lot better than not talking to each other at all. Nick didn’t like it when that happened. “Oh, well. That would do it too, I guess. I hope you had fun, at least.” Despite the killer hangover he suffered and all of that. After taking Miles home, he had stopped by another bar on his way home, knocking down a few more drinks of his own before finding his way home and calling it a night. He had been surprised that he didn’t have a hangover himself. Noticing Miles begin to turn red, Nick couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He didn’t mean to be weird, or embarrass him. It just happened. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” He nodded, vaguely remembering Miles talking about it. Nick always thought prom was overrated anyway. Of course, that could be because he missed it himself, and that’s what everyone said when they were secretly bitter about something. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn one.” He admitted, in thought. Not unless you counted funerals. “Not since I was like, six.” He thought he’d look weird in formal wear now anyway. Tall people always looked weird in suits; like business men. Or Abraham Lincoln. “On a scale of one to ten how uncomfortable is it?”

Miles nodded. “Yeah, I had fun. It was pretty much exactly how I picture a good 21st birthday to be. Just a lot of alcohol and not remembering much the next day.” Miles could definitely do without the pounding headache that morning, but he was pretty sure there was no avoiding that. “I think my mom was more upset about it than I was,” he remembered, thinking back to her insisting that he deserved to go to prom while Miles had just considered it another free night to hang out with Murphy. He nodded, thinking back. “I actually think I was six the last time I had to wear one, too. At my cousin’s funeral. I feel bad for all the poor little kids stuck in uncomfortable suits just to have to sit through uncomfortable situations.” He laughed at the irony of it all, shaking his head. “It’s not that bad. I’d only say like a three. It’s just hot more than anything.” He shrugged. He could live with it. As he caught another glimpse of Greg, shooting a silent glare at the back of his head, another thought crossed Miles’ mind. “Hey, have you met my new sister yet?”

Nick smiled. “Hey as long as it was worth it.” He was glad he at least enjoyed himself. Nick couldn’t really remember how his own 21st went, aside from the pulsating hangover he suffered the next morning.“That’s so sad. Hopefully seeing you dressed up now makes up for it a little bit.” Weddings beat proms ten out of ten times anyway. At his next comment, Nick nodded in agreement, not sure what to say other than the fact that it definitely wasn’t the best situation. “I’m sorry, man. Me too. Something about baby suits are all super itchy for some reason too.” He smiled, not sure if funeral talk was proper wedding talk, but it wasn’t sad so it was okay. “Not too bad.” He let the topic die off as Miles asked him the question. Raising an eyebrow, he shook his head. “Can’t say I have. I forgot you were getting one of those.” He laughed. “Why, should I go make excuses to talk to her and Greg just to see what they’re like?”

Miles nodded. “Totally worth it.” Considering how his own went, Miles sort of wished he’d been there for Nick’s, but he supposed he’d never know how that went down. “I’m sure she’s over it now, too. No big deal. That girl was never very nice, anyway.” High school prom dates were never that important later on, honestly. “Yeah, they are. I don’t know what it is about ‘em.” He was thankful to move on from this conversation, not because he was sad, but because it probably wasn’t best to keep focusing on it and end up ​getting​ sad eventually. “I forgot too. I actually just met her, like, less than a week ago.” He sighed, thinking back to the awkward moment they shared during their first meeting. “We should go find her. She’s actually kinda cool, from what I’ve seen. Don’t know how she came from Greg.” He shook his head before scanning the crowd and beginning to lead Nick to go find her. “C’mon. I think I saw her go out by the bathrooms a little while ago,” he mentioned, motioning toward the door that led out toward the bathrooms across the hall.

Nick hadn’t gone to his own prom either, instead choosing to skip it alongside his date and friends at the time. It was fun, so he didn’t really regret it. Miles didn’t seem to either, so he figured neither of them really missed out on much. “You got a mean girl to agree to prom with you? That’s impressive in itself. Girls in High School were intimidating as hell.” He laughed, because really all girls seemed intimidating to him until his senior year, at least. Nick nodded, not replying again until Miles’ new sister came up. “Oh, cool. What’s her name?” He was curious; he had seen her in the wedding now that he thought about it but hadn’t realized it was Greg’s daughter. “Let’s go before you two are stolen away for family stuff, then.” He jerked his head toward the toward Miles just motioned to. “You should probably lead the way, though. I don’t want to scare her by jumping out at her near the bathrooms.” That wouldn’t really make a good first impression.

Miles shrugged. “I never understood it, either. Till she said she couldn’t come the day before. Then it all sorta made sense. Like, that’s more like it.” He laughed, because even he could admit he was a dork in high school. At least he was a little better now. “Hadley,” he replied as he led Nick out into the hall. It was immediately quieter, with less of a chance of drunk family members approaching him to ask him questions he didn’t feel like answering. “She’d probably just laugh. Nothing could get more awkward than her hitting on me before we found out we were gonna be related in a few days.” Miles definitely preferred being an only child, but at least he could milk the whole stepbrother thing by holding something like that over her head forever. He stopped near the bathrooms, where he swore he’d seen her earlier. “So…I don’t know if we should just stand here and wait, or if we’ll get thrown out for being creepy.”

Nick laughed. “Normally I’d give you the 'you can do better’ talk, but since it’s been about forever and a half I’m sure you don’t need that anymore.” He began to walk with Miles toward the door, nodding to himself and trying to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally forget her name or something. “That’s a cool name. Never heard that one before.” He said before they got to the empty Hall, and immediately Nick could feel the difference between the area there and the one the reception hall was held in. There were almost too many inside, but he supposed that was to be expected at weddings. “What?” He turned his head to look at him. He’s be lying if he said that wasn’t hilarious. “Miles.” He began, trying to sound serious although it was clear he was only teasing him. “Are you having an affair with your stepsister?” He made sure not to say it too loudly in case someone decided to walk in at that moment and take him seriously. “You’ll probably be fine because you’re the bride’s son. I’m screwed here.” He smiled again before shrugging. “I don’t mind waiting unless you’d rather go look for her. If anyone asks we’ll just pretend that there’s someone in the bathroom. Or pretend to be arguing 'cause no one likes go get in the middle of that shit.”

Miles shook his head. “Yeah, I definitely do not need that talk. Thanks, though. I appreciate the thought.” Miles nodded in agreement. “It is cool. Makes it harder to forget.” He knew Nick would want to know more about that whole thing, which was to be expected because it was too funny not to share. “She just called me cute or something. Then we found out our parents were getting married and it was the funniest thing that happened to me all week.” When Nick made his gross comment, Miles hit him in the shoulder, but still laughed. “Shut up, man. Next time you wanna say some dumb shit like that just remember you got naked in front of my mom.” He could definitely keep holding that over Nick’s head for at least a little while longer. He wasn’t over it yet. Miles surveyed their surroundings before motioning for Nick to follow him again, trekking a little further down the hall and around the corner to where he’d seen a bench by some plants beforehand. Sure enough, there it was, presumably a place people sat to wait for someone or just get some peace and quiet. “This is a lot less creepy,” he noted, sitting down. “At least there’s a corner we’d have to turn now.”

Nick shrugged. “Anytime.” He nodded. Hadley wasn’t a name he heard every day. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing again as Miles elaborated. “Hey.” He shook his head, grinning. “At least you know she doesn’t dislike you. This is a good thing, right?” So maybe he shouldn’t have made that joke. Like most things, it sounded a lot funnier and a lot less douche baggy in his head. Trying to man up and not flinch when Miles hit his shoulder, Nick nodded. “Okay. I had that one coming. I’ll give you that one.” The embarrassment wasn’t any less real, though. He’d actually let himself forget about that for a few minutes. Trailing after Miles, he was thankful when he spotted the bench. If he was being honest, it was nice to get away from the crowd for a few minutes. He could only imagine what Miles must be feeling. Sitting down next to him, Nick agreed. “That’s true. We look more casual about it now.” Nick looked down the hallway briefly, looking out for people coming their way, but there were none just yet. “Murphy must be somewhere around here, too. Everyone seems to be missing, though.”

Miles couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at that. “I guess anything is better than Greg trying to call me 'son’ every five minutes. Like, dude. Relax. They weren’t even married until a few hours ago.” He didn’t hold back being bitter about it in front of Nick anymore. He just needed to vent about it enough so he could begin to accept it. “Yeah, you did. I won’t forget about it that easily. And neither will she, unfortunately.” Miles wondered if Greg knew that she’d seen some shit that night, and if so, he wondered if he knew it was Nick. He wasn’t going to ask, though. At the mention of Murphy, Miles frowned. “Oh, shit, you’re right. I hope he doesn’t think we left him or anything. Though I think I saw him talking to my mom a little while ago and they looked like they were having a grand old time.” He wasn’t too worried about it. Miles’ family adored the Vaughns. Still, he didn’t want to leave him alone all night. “I could use a minute out here, though. It’s kind of exhausting in there after a while, y'know? Too many people with too many questions. And too much alcohol.” He shook his head. “Clearly, I should cool it with the drinking in general,” he muttered, mostly to himself. He obviously didn’t make good decisions, and he’d already had enough to drink tonight.

Nick drew his eyebrows together, frowning at that information. “That’s weird, he shouldn’t be doing that. Did he even ask if he could call you that first?” That was just as bad as sport. Nick had an Uncle who used to love that term when he was growing up. He still didn’t understand the need that older dudes felt to grossly nickname people younger than them. Nick didn’t mind the fact that he was beginning to rant, in fact he was a little relieved. He knew Miles wouldn’t be completely fine with the wedding. Nick just wasn’t sure how to ask how he was doing without prying too much. “Okay, I get it. You win.” The familiar burning of his cheeks and eats began to settle in, as it only seemed to do when talk of the incident came up. It was his own fault for not thinking before speaking. And also for being a stripper in the first place. He was just going to have to live with his decisions. “I told him I was going to walk around for awhile and get a drink.” Nick shook his head. “He was the last time I saw him, too, so I think he’s okay. He knows he can text me if he needs to.” His brother had told him numerous times he could take care of himself, but he still never quite felt right leaving him on his own without making sure he knew he could contact him. “We can hang out here for a little while, then.” At least until one of them had to go back. “It looks like it’s a lot to handle.” He commented, about to say something else when Miles’ last words traveled to him. Nick wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that or not, but part of him knew that was a jab about last night. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it kind of did. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it.” He spoke carefully. “The drinking. It’s not for everybody.”

Miles shook his head. “No. I just don’t say anything. It’s not that I don’t ​like​ him. He just does a lot of stuff that bothers me. And…he’s not my real dad. All that bullshit.” Miles shrugged. He’d get over it eventually. He had to. “Damn right I win.” Miles nodded, looking around again as they talked about Murphy in the slim chance he might be out there looking for them, but of course he wasn’t. He was fine. “He’s a big boy. I think he knows the number for 911.” Miles was only teasing. He knew Nick was protective of him, and it wasn’t a bad thing. He nodded at that; it certainly was a lot. Miles looked up when Nick responded to what he said. He hasn’t exactly been quiet about it. “I do like it. It just.” He paused, shrugging. “Good things don’t typically come out of it.” He didn’t think he wanted to have this conversation right now, but honestly, it was all he thought about lately. It was hard to go back to totally normal when things like this happened. It wasn’t easy looking Nick in the eye without thinking about the fact that they’d kissed twice now, and there was no way they could both be accidents. “Sorry I keep bringing it up. It’s just confusing. I’m trying to make sense of it all.” But he couldn’t do that if they both resigned to just not talk about it.

Nick nodded as Miles spoke about Greg. It sounded rough, but it also sounded like Greg was at least trying to form some sort of relationship with him. Even if he wasn’t going about it the right way. “Hopefully after all the wedding stuff he’ll chill out some.” He wanted to ask about how Miles’ real Dad was doing, but he didn’t want to stir up any more bad shit on accident. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.” He joked, shaking his head. “Well, now he has two emergency numbers. He’ll have to just deal with that.” Murphy didn’t always like it, though. “Right.” Suddenly it felt awkward again, but Nick knew he couldn’t keep avoiding it. Especially since there was no excuse to make not to talk about it. It wasn’t right of him to do that, anyway. He knew that. Miles deserved answers; the problem was that Nick just didn’t have any. “I don’t know, Miles.” He shook his head, frustrated. He wanted to tell him the truth; that it hadn’t entirely been an accident. He just couldn’t seem to find the words. “I don’t know why you think I have the answers when I’m just as confused as you are.”

Miles shrugged. “Yeah, hopefully.” Their small talk slowly died off until it seemed they only had one thing left to talk about, the thing they both tried to avoid but to no avail. “I don’t think you have all the answers,” Miles retorted, looking at him. He suddenly felt defensive. He wasn’t trying to pin it all on Nick, he was just voicing his confusion. “I was just saying.” He definitely didn’t want to fight. Not here. That would be worse than ignoring each other. “Can I just. Can I ask you something?” It was hard to do this without knowing if he was overstepping boundaries. But he was pretty sure they crossed that bridge when they kissed the first time. “Why did you let me do it if you knew it was a mistake?” Miles hated saying it like that, knowing in his heart that wasn’t what it was. But if it was the only way either of them could get the words out, he’d have to settle. He made sure to maintain eye contact before he spoke again, lowering his voice in case somebody happened to be out there with them now. “Did you want to kiss me?”

Nick didn’t want to fight with him. He also didn’t know what to say without sounding repetitive and giving Miles the same bullshit excuses. So whenever this seemed to come up, Nick felt stuck. He sighed, staying silent for a moment and trying not to snap back because he knew he’d regret it. “What is it?” He looked at him cautiously. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. And it stung him, because it didn’t feel like a mistake on his end. “I stopped you.” He tried to make his even as he met his eyes. “I stopped you. But.” He shook his head, angry with himself for being too fucking scared to say that he hadn’t wanted to stop. And then Miles had to go and ask him that, and Nick was thrown for an even bigger loop. All he could do was look at him for a moment, the word yes on the tip of his tongue. It never came, though, and before he knew what he was doing, Nick surged in, closing the distance between them leaning down to press his lips against Miles’. It was fast, and it was probably wrong. At that moment, though, it seemed like the right thing to do. It would give Miles the answer he was looking for without him having to say it and suddenly make things weird. At least with this, if it went badly, they could pretend it was another accident.

Miles didn’t know how to react when all Nick could say was that he’d stopped him. He had, but not before kissing him back, and not without clear reluctance on his part. Miles just didn’t understand it. But evidently, neither did Nick. And neither of them was able to get another word in before Nick kissed him. To say he was surprised would be the understatement of the year. It certainly answered his question. Fearing Nick would pull away again and tell him no, Miles didn’t want it to be too much too fast again. But he also didn’t want to seem like he wanted this to stop. He hesitantly lifted his hands to hold Nick’s face, keeping him close. Miles couldn’t believe how familiar this felt now. It was still surprising and equally as exciting, but the familiar feeling allowed him to deepen the kiss without having to worry so much about Nick pushing him away after all.

Nick had only stopped him the night before because he was too drunk to know what he was doing. He felt like he was taking advantage. Right now it was different. Miles wasn’t drunk, and neither was he. They’d been drinking, but using that as an excuse now was futile at this point. Yet all of those thoughts were the furthest thing from his mind as he kissed him. For a second, Nick thought Miles was going to push him away. But then his hands were on his face and he was kissing him back, and it felt good again. Just like the other times felt good. Allowing the kiss to deepen, Nick responded in turn, his arms reaching out to wrap around Miles’ waist to bring him closer. At that moment, he paid no mind to whoever may walk out into the hall. He just didn’t want to break away yet.

Miles quickly realized that if he’d been at all afraid that Nick was going to change his mind, that was gone as he wrapped his arms around him to pull him closer. It made Miles feel a little more adventurous, and he figured he’d had enough to drink that he could still use it as an excuse — just in case — for letting his hands wander. While one ended up on Nick’s shoulder, the other made its way up to run through his hair. There was no way that this was anything but pure want on both ends. Miles felt like the world around him didn’t exist. That is, until he heard his name, and it definitely wasn’t from Nick because he was pretty sure that he’d had his tongue in his mouth just then. He quickly pulled away, thankfully without biting him this time or causing any other injuries, looking up to find his mom standing over them with an inquisitive look on her face. “Hi, Mom,” Miles said, dumbfounded, his eyes wide. She calmly informed him that they had to have their slow dance soon, regarded Nick with a smile and a nod, and went back into the reception. Miles watched her go before turning his attention back to Nick. He was quiet for a moment, but there was no way in hell that Miles was going to pretend that one never happened. “That wasn’t an accident,” he said simply. He knew he had to go, but he’d be damned if this was the end of that. He raised an eyebrow at Nick, hoping he got the hint that Miles wasn’t done here, before standing up to go back where he was needed.

Nick was only further spurred on by the hands on his shoulder and in his hair. The sensation of Miles’ fingers curling through his hair caused a pleasant chill to roll down his spine. He’d always had a weakness for that, but something about this particular time had him hyper aware of every touch. And he had an inkling it was because neither of them were holding back anymore. Dragging his hands up Miles’ back, up to rest against the back of his neck, then around to cup either side of his face — Nick didn’t even think to break the kiss. With each passing second it seemed to grow deeper and less controlled, and he completely forgot about the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment. The voice that sounded from in front of them was a pretty rude awakening, though. Instantly, he felt Miles separate himself, and out of pure instinct he did the same. Ripping his hands away, he scooted back a respectful enough distance before daring to look at the person he knew it was already, judging from the voice and the look on Miles’ face alone. First she saw him half naked. Now this. How she managed to keep her voice even and talk to her son as though nothing was going on, Nick didn’t know. He could only assume she wasn’t exactly thrilled, though. For a moment, even after she left, he stared blankly after her. Slowly, he turned back to Miles, expecting an awkward reaction that matched what he was feeling at the moment. But he didn’t get that. Instead, he was calm, and it took Nick a moment to understand what he meant. But then it sunk in, and all he could do was nod. They weren’t finished here. “Not an accident.” He echoed, confirming it because there was no sense in denying it anymore. As Miles walked back inside, he watched until he disappeared from sight, only breathing out heavily once he was alone. Nick didn’t know what was happening anymore, and the few moments he took to compose himself before walking back inside didn’t help provide him the clarity he hoped it would. Still, what’s done was done. And no one seemed mad, at least not outwardly, so he wasn’t going to worry about it. Walking back to the wedding, Nick thought that maybe he should go find Murphy. He was gone long enough.

Miles was fairly certain from Nick’s response that he could come back after this whole dance thing and it would be like he never even left. He was surprised that he was able to stay so collected this time, considering the last few times left him really flustered and unable to process his own thoughts. Now, though, he was walking back into the room with a smile, acting as if nothing had just happened, and he was pretty sure he played it off. He found his mom as the crowd around them cleared out and the DJ announced them and started a song Miles used to enjoy with his mom when he was a kid. He smiled at her despite what had just happened and started to lead her across the floor. When they were out of earshot of anyone else, Quinn got close to his ear to whisper that she’d known something would happen between them all along. Miles ignored that, settling on telling her simply, “Congrats on the wedding, Mom.” The rest of the dance went by quickly, with Miles enjoying the time he had with his mom. As soon as the song came to a close, he ignored the applause to hug her again, only to look up and find Greg smiling at him. The bastard said something along the lines of it being his turn now, sorry to have to steal her away, and everything about the whole exchange made Miles’ skin crawl. He ignored Greg, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before turning around to go find Nick again. He’d had enough of Greg’s shit for one night, he decided. If he was supposed to get along with him forever now, the least Miles could go was have some fun messing with him. Spotting Nick across the room, Miles headed over to him, immediately grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to face him. “I have an idea,” he said, his voice low. He didn’t know what was compelling him to act like this, but he couldn’t say he minded it.

Nick searched for Murphy for a few minutes when he got back inside, checking up with him and trying to appear like he hadn’t just made out with their mutual best friend and gotten caught by his Mother. Briefly, he saw Miles dancing with her and smiled before feeling intrusive and directing his attention to the table around him, listening to the people fawn over the dance and the wedding and how beautiful it all was. Which it was, but he couldn’t help but be annoyed with some of them, because they seemed more concerned with their opinions of the wedding than the wedding itself. Nick didn’t speak much with them for that reason. And also because part of him was terrified they may recognize each other. And he’d like to get through the rest of the day without any more embarrassing shit happening. Excusing himself from the table once more, noticing Murphy was doing fine seemed content to do his own thing, he wandered off to go find someone to talk to. He didn’t get very far, though, as a hand clasped onto his shoulder and caused him to turn around. Immediately noticing it was Miles, not to mention his tone, Nick rose an eyebrow. “What kind of idea?”

Miles thought it might be easier to just show Nick what he was thinking, rather than telling him. At least if Nick understood him and leveled with him without him even having to say it, he’d know they were both really on the same page with what they wanted. He motioned for Nick to follow him, going to the head table where Greg’s suit jacket was hung over the back of his chair. Weddings with dim lighting and drunk people made it way too easy to do something like this and not look suspicious. Miles hoped for the best as he reached his hand into one of the pockets of the coat. He was pleased to find exactly what he’d been looking for: Greg’s car keys. “Moron,” Miles muttered to himself, shaking his head at the fact Greg had left them in there, though he probably didn’t suspect anyone was going to be trying to steal them. He wordlessly held them up in front of Nick’s face, grinning at him. “Greg’s stupid ass Tahoe,” he explained, hoping Nick was getting a little bit of what he was implying. Without another word he slipped the keys into his pocket, leading Nick out the door and out toward the parking lot.

Nick didn’t understand at first, yet he was curious enough to follow him without question. When he started rifling through the pockets of jacket, he almost questioned it, opening his mouth to do just that when Miles dangled a set of keys in front of his face. It was at that moment he began to understand, or at least he was hoping he did. For a second he was quiet as they walked, but as they reached the parking lot he asked a question that was more him agreeing to this idea rather than it was genuine curiosity. “There’s no reason for him to come out to the car any time soon, is there?”

Miles took Nick’s silence as a good sign. At least he wasn’t running away or telling him off or anything. He was just going along with it. His question just made it that much clearer that this was a good idea, and Miles grinned. “Probably not. But who knows.” Not that he gave a shit either way. He’d prefer not to be interrupted, but if it were Greg, at least he could laugh about it. He searched through the parking lot, weaving through spots until he finally found Greg’s car. He tried not to think about how fast his heart was beating as he unlocked it, willing himself not to back out now, because this was what he had wanted and now it was happening. He was just nervous. He also tried not to think about how quickly he climbed into the backseat, almost tripping over himself in the process. So he was excited, sue him. He quickly realized that this wasn’t going to be easy because it wasn’t very roomy back there, but at least he’d be able to say it happened and laugh about having messed with Greg without him knowing. And making out with Nick. That was certainly a bonus.

Nick began to smile at that answer before he could help it. The initial shock was beginning to wear off and realization was finally beginning to set in. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but hell of he was going to deny the opportunity to find out. They’d already come this far. They’d already done things they weren’t supposed to be doing. If Miles wanted to mess around in the back of his stepdads car, Nick didn’t quite have it in him to say no. “Since you stole his keys, I’m guessing he’s going to spend some time looking for those.” If Miles wanted this, he didn’t want to be interrupted. He was hoping this was the one time they wouldn’t be. As they reached the car and Miles unlocked the doors, Nick’s heart rate began to pick up, unable to stop himself from thinking of the implications. Briefly, he glanced around the parking lot before climbing into the back with him, promptly shutting and locking the door behind him. And without hesitation, Nick grinned at him and rested his hands on his shoulders before promptly trying to push him down in order to recline in the seat, half serious and half trying to lighten things up in case things were still weird between them. “We’re not here to egg Greg’s car are we? ‘Cause I was kind of hoping we could finish what we started.”

Miles waved him off. They’d deal with that if the time came and Greg came searching him out. He had a feeling that wouldn’t happen, though. The dude was too busy being a douche inside right now. Miles almost didn’t know what to do at first, waiting as Nick locked the door, but then he was talking and simultaneously beginning to push on Miles’ shoulders, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut up,” was all he could really think to say in response, because now he was blushing and was back to that place of being unable to process his thoughts. He complied with Nick’s actions, leaning back as he brought his hands up to the sides of Nick’s neck to bring their faces together and kiss him. He was already feeling stuffy in his full tux in a closed car, and it was too quiet. It wasn’t right. Miles wanted this to be perfect. He pulled back, pushing Nick away from him gently. “Hang on.” He shrugged his coat off and tossed it up in the front seat, then pulled his phone and the keys from his pants pocket. “Mood music,” he explained, only half joking. He moved up to turn the key halfway in the ignition just so he could use the aux cord. He put on the only playlist he saw fit, one he’d made with Nick full of songs they used to love — and still did. He just preferred anything over it being totally silent, even as a Backstreet Boys song began to play. He pretended not to notice as he returned to his previous position, pulling Nick down by the collar of his shirt and pressing his lips to his again.

Nick smiled slightly against his lips when Miles brought him in for a kiss; him going along with it not helping to calm his heart beat by any means. Pressing his palms flat against the seat, he held himself up and away as they kissed. For the moment he didn’t try to progress any further. Despite him pushing him down onto the seat, Nick didn’t want to rush it. When Miles pulled back his first thought was that maybe he did move too fast, leading him to lean completely back and look at him cautiously for a moment. Then Miles was taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the seat, and his doubts for the moment were squashed. At the explanation, Nick let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Good thing you have your phone.” He said, looking on in amusement even if secretly he was a little disappointed he broke away just for that. “I’d hate to hear what music collection Greg has going on.” From what Nick saw of him, he seemed like a country guy, and he couldn’t handle that no matter how oddly worked up he was. Now was not the time to be thinking about Miles stepfather though, so Nick shook those thoughts away pretty quickly. When he finished, Nick didn’t even have time to comment on the song before Miles was dragging him back down to their previous position. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what playlist he’d put on just by the first song alone, but Nick decided he could deal with the Backstreet Boys amongst other things if that meant they could keep doing this. Nick’s hands rested themselves on Miles’ sides, fingers bunching into the fabric of his dress shirt as he deepened the kiss. Nick wasn’t sure what was stranger: kissing his best friend in said friend’s Stepfather’s car, kissing his best friend while Backstreet’s Back played softly in the background, or the fact that he still wasn’t deterred by all of the above.

Miles didn’t know what it was about this time in particular, but he was slowly becoming less afraid that Nick would want to stop this. It must’ve been the way he kissed him back so willingly, on top of the fact that they were both speaking calmly as if this were the most normal thing in the world to both of them. But Nick’s hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt had Miles once again slipping a hand through Nick’s hair, pulling on it lightly to get a different angle. Miles abandoned his lips, but only to press short kisses along his jawline and down to his neck. His free hand trailed up along Nick’s back and pulled him closer. Miles didn’t stay in that position long, though, mostly because he was already missing the feeling of Nick’s lips on his. He pulled away and noticed how dizzy he felt when he looked up at him for a moment, but in the best way possible. He connected their lips again, simultaneously trying to pull Nick closer to him by the fabric of his shirt and raising his hips without really realizing what he was doing. If there was a line, surely one of them had crossed it by now and someone would have stopped it. But Miles didn’t see this ending any time soon. He just didn’t want to think about what that meant.

Nick still had difficulty making sense of this, but he did know that he didn’t want to stop now. Not unless Miles wanted him to, something which was quickly becoming a passing worry. Nick’s self control began to slip the second he felt Miles’ hand tangle in his hair again, and instantly he angled his head in the direction he was guided. That combined with the lips on his neck and Miles’ other hand bringing him closer, Nick let out a small groan escape from the back of his throat. His own hands, which were resting on Miles’ sides, further bunched the fabric up in order to pull his shirt upwards — trying to untuck it as he looked down at his friend briefly before turning his head to let their lips meet again. Then he felt Miles’ hips move up and brush his own, and without even pausing to think about the consequences, Nick ground his own downward. It was then that he broke the kiss, hips stilling and chest heaving slightly as he moved his head. With his nose brushing against Miles’ cheek, he moved down in order to press a small kiss against Miles’ jawline before continuing to move downwards to his neck, the small pecks turning into open mouthed kisses before he could talk himself out of it. It was then that he shifted his hips again, this time slowly, hoping this wouldn’t be the moment he’d be pushed away.

Miles hadn’t expected things to go like this. Not that he was complaining by any means, but he didn’t think it would have gone past the cautious kisses they’d shared so far. Even the first time, though it seemed like things may have been headed in this general direction, there was some aspect of reluctance in every move they made. Now, it was like nothing else mattered, each of them doing things Miles never expected to do with his best friend. Miles was a little hesitant about taking his shirt off because he didn’t want Nick to see the stupid tattoo and have that ruin the moment, but he figured he could get him to forget about it; in any case, Miles got the idea. Nick’s hips moving against his own and his lips suddenly on his neck had Miles tilting his head back, sighing. "Nick.” Saying it out loud was weirdly some sort of realization for him, that this really was his best friend who was kissing him and touching him in his stepdad’s car. It was almost funny, but Miles wasn’t about to laugh. Miles pushed Nick away again, only so he could sit up a bit and loosen the tie around his neck to take it off and toss it onto the floor. He started to undo the buttons on his shirt with shaking hands, his fingers moving faster than his brain could process, and by the time he was done he was breathing heavily and wanting nothing more than to be kissing him again. He hoped that was enough to distract Nick from the notion of removing the shirt completely, because at least now his arm was still covered. Miles pulled him back into a kiss as he reached down, blindly fumbling for Nick’s belt. If he was being too forward, he definitely didn’t care. Unless Nick told him to stop. But he didn’t see that happening.

Nick wasn’t thinking about the consequences at the moment. Granted, the other times they’d kissed he hadn’t been thinking about them much then either. Still, it was different this time. It didn’t feel scary, or weird. It felt like the opposite of that. The sound of Miles sighing his name was surreal, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hear it again. Grazing his teeth against the side of his neck before sucking lightly at the spot, Nick was pretty in the moment. It took him a second to realize he was being pushed away, but when he realized why, he was strangely okay with it. Seeing him begin to unbotton his shirt made his throat feel dry, and himself impatient because now he needed to kiss him again. Leaning back down to do just that, he slid his hands up to splay across his now bare stomach. He paid no mind to the fact that the shirt was still technically on; he just wanted to be able to touch him without a bunch of fabric in the way. Deepening the kiss right away, his nearly faltered as he felt Miles’ hands on his belt. Breath hitching in his throat, he let his hands drop to help Miles remove it. With mild difficulty considering their position, Nick finally got his belt free and let it fall to the ground where he was sure everything else would be going soon enough. Not wasting any time, he pressed his hips closer while reaching his hands out to attempt to take Miles’ own belt off at the same time. He wasn’t about to be the only one with his pants off, so to speak.

Miles couldn’t help but feel like he should be talking more. Asking if this was okay or what it meant or what exactly was about to happen. But he was afraid that would ruin everything, because if something wasn’t right Nick would stop him. He could guess where it was going by Nick’s hands moving to remove his own belt and then Miles’, so Miles wasn’t going to ask questions. He was okay with this. He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped at the feeling of Nick’s lips on his neck, but couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed about it at this point. He looked down, feeling breathless as he helped Nick pull his belt off and toss it onto the floor. Looking back up at him, Miles mimicked Nick’s earlier action, yanking at the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to untuck it. It was a little hard to believe that he was undressing his friend in the back of a car, but Miles couldn’t have cared less about what it all meant. He brought their lips together again, lifting his hips to meet Nick’s movements, letting out a groan against his lips. His hands slid up underneath the back of his shirt, his fingers moving slowly over his skin. Miles wanted to be closer. He just wanted to touch him. His hands moved all the way up Nick’s back and down again, coming around to his stomach and traveling up over his chest. It made him impatient, pulling his hands out from under the shirt to start to work on the buttons. It was much harder than doing his own because he didn’t even break the kiss this time and his hands were still shaking a little, but he was impatient.

Nick probably should have slowed down. He should have made sure this was what Miles wanted, but every time the other man touched and kissed him back he couldn’t help but feel like it was. Miles would stop if this was too much and Nick would too. But it didn’t seem like it. If anything, it didn’t feel like enough. Miles’ moan made him feel like he was doing something right and that was enough encouragement alone to continue with trying to get his belt off. Once it was thrown to the floor, Nick noticed the way Miles looked up at him before pulling his shirt off. He got the idea, but made no move to unbutton, instead swooping back down for another kiss. Before he knew it, Miles’ hands were under his shirt and touching his skin and suddenly it felt like he was burning up. Every touch sent a familiar pleasant sensation surging through his body, so when he felt Miles begin to fumble with his buttons, Nick set to work to help him undo them all before shrugging it to the floor with the rest of their things. With Nick’s lips never leaving Miles’, his hands rested on the others bare torso. Slowly, he ran his hands downward, nails only grazing against his skin lightly before they reached the top of Miles’ pants. For a moment he simply kept his hands resting atop his hips, thumbs pressing into the skin gently as they kissed. After a moment of gaining his courage, though, Nick let the fingertips of his right hand graze against the button of the slacks. It was then that Nick broke the kiss — only to look at him, gaze darkened and chest heaving due to the fact they couldn’t seem to tear their lips away from each other. “Can I?” While before he didn’t have to ask, it was different now. Because after this there would be no turning back.

Miles had to take a moment once Nick’s shirt was off, stopping to look at him and take in the full reality of the situation. This was happening. It was still surreal, forgetting everything else around him. He drowned out the dumb music, ignored the fact he was at his mother’s wedding, didn’t think about the car they were in — all that mattered was Nick and wanting to be close to him. He hoped he didn’t seem creepy when he finally stopped staring at him, turning his focus back to kissing him. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as Nick’s hands moved downward. Miles knew where this was going. And honestly, it had been a while since he’d done any of this, and the fact that it was Nick made it even more nerve-racking. He wanted it, though. More than that, he wanted Nick. And he trusted him more than anything. When Nick broke away and asked him the question, all Miles could do was look at him for a moment. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his chest, but he found himself nodding quickly. And he meant it. He wrapped his arms around Nick’s neck, pulling him in to kiss him once again, excitement now surging through him. This was real now. They couldn’t take this back.

Nick looked back at him for a moment, knowing the gaze wasn’t out of hesitation just by looking at him. He never thought he’d have his best friend underneath him, or anywhere near him like this. He couldn’t seem to find one complaint about it at the moment, though. Nick had stopped thinking about the consequences and where they were at and who they were at this point. Seeing Miles nod rapidly in agreement helped see to that, and Nick pressed their lips together again as his hands slowly began to unbutton his pants. Brushing a hand downwards, he sought out Miles’ zipper in order to inch it downwards and then tug his pants down in the same direction, his mouth still working against his as he did so.

Miles felt his breath hitch in his throat as Nick’s hands traveled further down, even if he knew it was coming. Soon enough he was lying there under him without pants and his face and neck immediately felt hot. Not because he was embarrassed or anything, but he couldn’t help being a little nervous. It was all so new to him. He wasn’t used to this, being with Nick in this way…or any other guy for that matter, at least not to this extent. He certainly never expected the first to be Nick. But he wasn’t going to tell him that. It wasn’t a big deal, it just made it all newer for him. Miles let his eyes close, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t at all how he had expected the night to go, but with the direction they were headed right now, he was pretty sure that it was about to be a lot better than he’d ever thought possible.

Nick got lost in what was happening. As they continued on, touching each other and never once stopping out of hesitation or regret, Nick didn’t even pay any mind to the soundtrack that played distantly in the background. In the back of his mind, he could hear the faint rhythm of some New Kids On the Block song that hardly seemed important at that moment. And before he knew it, everything they’d started was over. Now it boiled down to this: them awkwardly and silently pulling their clothes on in the back of Miles’ stepfather’s car while undoubtedly going over what had just occurred in their minds. While the music was barely recognizable earlier, it was all Nick could hear now. It still didn’t drown out the awkwardness, though. If he allowed himself to think too long about it, Nick would realize how sad this all was. While they were open earlier, now the two wouldn’t even look at each other. Quietly, Nick finished getting himself together after clumsily reaching down to retrieve their fallen articles of clothing and setting them on the seat between them, as though that would provide more of a barrier between them that seemed unnecessary now. When he was decent enough, and he could see out of the corner of his eye that Miles was too, Nick set to open the car door to head back inside. There was no reason to stay in the car anymore.

Miles felt like none of what had just happened could have possibly been real. When he caught his breath and looked around, realizing the extent of the situation, he figured out that the pure bliss he’d been feeling not a minute earlier couldn’t last forever. He suddenly felt too exposed, too vulnerable, while he’d felt comfortable a little while ago. He was a mess, the car was now a mess — the whole situation was just a huge mess. Miles didn’t know how they were going to proceed after this. They silently got dressed, Miles doing his best to ignore the now-too-loud music playing, especially since it was a stupid New Kids On the Block song he would never hear the same way again. Before he knew it, Nick was turning away from him, getting ready to leave. “Wait,” Miles blurted, reaching a hand out to touch Nick’s shoulder and stop him. It was like he’d been burned, considering how quickly he pulled his hand away almost as soon as he touched him. Miles had so many questions. There were so many things he wanted to say. But looking at Nick now, he didn’t want to say any of it. “Never mind.” He leaned up to the front to retrieve his phone and turn off the car. Now all he could think was what the fuck that was and where they were supposed to go from here. But now he’d just have to start by going back inside.

Nick froze as Miles reached out to grasp his shoulder, and it took him a minute to look back towards him. Silently, he looked at him expectedly. But then Miles’ changed his mind, dropping his hand and taking it back. The slight worry changed to confusion, but he didn’t question him on it. Instead Nick just nodded. “Okay.” He finally spoke, nodding again to himself before they both finally stepped out of the car and head inside. The reception was probably nearly over by now, anyway.

[jaybear1701]

Cheer 5

Cheerleader Waverly. Basketball star Nicole. A sort of canon-ish HSAU inspired by *that* snippet of the S2 trailer. Parts 1, 2, 3, 4.

Rainbow-colored lights splashed against the evening’s approaching darkness as Purgatory’s annual spring carnival kicked into high gear. Marrow-shaking music blasted all around. Throngs of people milled about. A chill seeped into the air, the last lingering grip of winter as one season melted into another. But Nicole paid no mind to any of it. Not when she was busy trying to pick out Waverly Earp from the mass of bodies.

It had been almost two weeks since the night of the championship game, when Nicole had fallen asleep in Waverly’s bed. She groaned as she remembered waking up to Gus McCready scowling at her from the doorway, and Waverly nowhere to be found. Waverly scampered off to the library, Gus had said, and just what in the hell are you doin’ here?

Nicole had stammered out the poorest excuse of an excuse; something about returning books to Waverly. Gus hadn’t believed her in the slightest, rightfully so, but she still had invited Nicole for some over easy eggs and bacon before sending her on her merry way home before Nicole’s parents put out an APB. Nicole had stopped at the library first, but Waverly hadn’t been there.

In fact, Waverly had been mostly M.I.A. since that evening, suddenly becoming busy with school, latin club, cheerleading, her part-time stocking job at Shorty’s. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Waverly had even canceled their last two study sessions. Nicole tried to not let it bother her. She understood that Waverly had a full schedule that didn’t revolve around Nicole. And so, Nicole had busied herself with life after basketball season, focusing on her studies and debating over which university she’d attend in the fall.

Still, she missed Waverly. So badly it was downright pathetic. It had only been 14 days, 12 hours, and 33 minutes (not that she was counting) but it seemed like an eternity since they last spent any substantive one-on-one time together outside of basic chitchat in the halls between classes. And Nicole would be damned if she didn’t get to enjoy the carnival with Waverly.

As if on cue, Waverly emerged from the clusters of students and townsfolk and visitors, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. She was clad in her cold-weather cheerleading outfit consisting of a form-fitting bodysuit and leggings underneath her normal blue-and-white uniform. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid and she looked so damn pretty Nicole’s stomach flipped in anticipation. Grinning, Nicole stuffed her hands inside the pockets of her letterman jacket and jogged over, careful not to stumble over the running and screaming kids who cut across her path.

“Wave!” She called out as casually as possible.

Waverly turned at the sound of her name, and initially brightened when she saw Nicole. That happiness was short-lived, however. By the time Nicole sauntered up, Waverly had schooled her features into a more subdued smile.

“Nicole, hi,” Waverly greeted.

“Hey, I was hoping I might bump into you.” Nicole played it cool even as her pulse sped up in Waverly’s presence, like always. “How’ve you been, stranger?”

“Not bad, just trying to get to Stephanie’s stupid fundraiser.” Waverly bit the corner of her lip as she chucked a thumb toward a distant booth surrounded by her squad. A long line of people waited nearby, including some of Nicole’s teammates.  “And you? How’ve you been?”

I’m going crazy without you, Nicole’s heart beat out, but she thankfully had enough discipline to not blurt it out and embarrass herself. “Oh, you know, same old,” she shrugged.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Waverly smiled. “You got into Chicago.”

“Oh!” Nicole’s eyebrows arched. “How did…”

“I bumped into your mom at the Co-op.”

For some reason, Nicole felt guilty that Waverly found out from her mom instead of from her directly. “I meant to tell you, but haven’t really had the chance.”

“No worries, I get it.”

There was a hint of sadness in Waverly’s eyes and Nicole didn’t quite know what to make of it. A gust of wind blew across them and Waverly shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Without a second thought, Nicole shrugged off her jacket and draped it over Waverly’s shoulders.

“Nicole, I can’t take your jacket,” Waverly protested.

“Sure you can.” Nicole grinned. “Looks better on you anyway.”

And she did. The jacket was about a size too big for Waverly, but seeing her wear her varsity letter felt so right. Nicole’s heart skipped several beats.

“Won’t you be cold?” Waverly asked.

“Nah, I always did run a little haught blooded,” Nicole winked.

Waverly rolled her eyes affectionately. “Thanks. And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you. About Chicago. Your mom was super excited.”

“Yeah, she is,” Nicole agreed. “Though, honestly, I probably wouldn’t have gotten in without all your help in history.”

Waverly waved her off, cheeks tinging pink. “Please. I didn’t do anything but give you some silly mnemonics. It was all you.”

“It was more than that,” Nicole said sincerely. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Wave.” She looked down and kicked at the dirt with her toe. “But, honestly, I don’t even know if I’ll even go.”

Waverly brows knitted. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Nicole lied, heart throbbing because she knew exactly why. The reason was standing right in front of her and Waverly didn’t even know it. “Just keeping my options open.”

“I thought Chicago was your dream school.”

“It was, but…” Nicole stepped closer, her eyes darting across Waverly’s face. “Dreams change.”

Waverly swallowed hard and took a step back, flustered. She let out a breathless laugh. “That’s um,” she shook her head and glanced down at her wristwatch. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s almost 6.”

Nicole frowned at Waverly’s reaction, worried she had crossed a line and made Waverly uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Waverly self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve just really got to find Stephanie.”

“Right.” Nicole motioned for Waverly to keep walking. “About that,” she said as she fell into step next Waverly. “I was thinking we could maybe hang out after you finish.”

Waverly avoided Nicole’s gaze as they weaved through the crowd, passing noisy rides and twinkling game booths. “I can’t.”

Disappointment sunk heavily in Nicole’s stomach.“Why not?”

“I kinda promised Champ I would go around the carnival with him.”

“Whoa wait.” Nicole froze next to a concession stand. She was having a hard time wrapping her brain around the sentence that just came out of Waverly’s mouth. “Champ as in Champ Hardy?”

Waverly walked a few more feet before she stopped and turned back around. “What of it?”

“You once called him a disgusting dingbat.”

“I did,” Waverly acceded with a small wince. “But maybe I was a little too harsh. Everyone deserves a second chance, and I figured why not?” She lifted her chin slightly, as if daring Nicole to say anything in contradiction.

“Okay…” Nicole felt queasy. She attributed it to the overpowering sweetness of the cotton candy, ice cream, and candy being peddled at a nearby kiosk. She refused to acknowledge that it was jealousy churning in her gut over the fact that Waverly could make time for that boorishly brainless rodeo clown but not for Nicole. “How ‘bout tomorrow after our study session?”

“No, sorry,” Waverly said awkwardly as she walked onward. “Gus needs extra help at Shorty’s.”

“Sunday?”

Waverly shook her head without looking at Nicole, who finally had enough. She raced ahead a few steps to stand in front of Waverly and block her path. “Wave, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Waverly pulled Nicole’s jacket tighter across her body. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Really? ‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re avoiding me.” Nicole tried to keep her voice free of hurt, but she knew she didn’t quite succeed based on Waverly’s pained look.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Is it me?” Nicole’s chest clenched. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Waverly protested. “It’s not you. It’s…” She let out a harsh breath and rubbed at one of her temples. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

But Waverly said nothing. The noise and the chatter and the chaos of the carnival swirled around them and they just stared at each other, an unreadable expression creeping onto Waverly’s face that Nicole hoped wasn’t pity.

Holding up her hands, Nicole backed up, nearly bumping into several people in the process. “You know what? Forget it. Enjoy the carnival.”

Nicole turned on her heel and walked away, vision blurring with each step. She didn’t understand. She had never felt as close to anyone as she had Waverly, and never more so than that night in Waverly’s bedroom, curled up toward each other as they had talked about everything and nothing. She thought Waverly had felt it too, but… Maybe she didn’t. Maybe Nicole had imagined their connection. Heart swelling, Nicole didn’t turn back around even when she thought she heard her name called out behind her.

[bubble-tea-bunny]

Got This Sin in Her Brain [Jerome Valeska x Reader]

Author’s Note: I would greet y’all a Happy Valentine’s Day since this is a Valentine’s Day fic, but… it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore lol. I did start writing it the day of, to be fair, but it took a while since I haven’t written prose lately (more poetry, for class) and by the time I finished it was past 1! Hope this is okay. I was liking it when I first started but as I gradually got more tired I wasn’t sure if what I wrote was even good haha.

Word Count: 2,417

It’s a special day.

What do they call this type of thing? A “red-letter day”? The idiom makes you smile slightly to yourself. The color is especially fitting for this day in particular. And as you stand now before the full-length mirror, surveying your form, you realize that yeah, it is fitting, and you’re milking it for all its worth.

The deep red of your dress complements your skin tone, giving it a sort of glow. This is certainly a step away from your normal attire, but you’d been told to dress nicely, and luckily it only took searching through a few boutiques in the city to find the perfect mid-thigh length ensemble, with its sweetheart neckline and soft fabric that clung to your curves.

You take a step closer to the mirror and press your lips together to check if the lipstick has dried. You’re satisfied to find that it has, and you tilt your head in thought, index finger resting gently on your bottom lip. Perhaps the red lipstick had been too much? But as you continue to study your figure in the mirror, you decide the bold choice of red on red should stay. It’s only for a day that comes once a year after all, and really, when else would you dress like this?

Your hand drops back down to your side and you nod resolutely. It feels… unusual, to don such a different style, but it doesn’t look bad. Your eyes drop down to your collarbones and the expanse of skin left exposed by the lower neckline, and as if on cue you feel a rush of air pass over them. You exhale slowly to prevent shuddering from the coolness and brush some hair over your shoulders. When you’re content with how you look, you twirl around and rush over to the bed to grab your clutch—which isn’t red, surprise surprise. It’s black.

Jerome waits at the base of the stairs, gradually growing more impatient with every second and eager to start the events of the evening. When he hears the click of your heels along the second floor landing, he twists around, smirks, tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks. There’s a combination of things swirling behind those dark orbs of his. Pride, for one. A carnal hunger second. You can’t see any of these from the top of the stairs.

In a manner considered to be quite cliché, that you won’t deny, you slowly make your way down each step, hand sliding along the railing for support. The metal is cold in your palm, a contrast to the rest of your body which feels quite warm beneath Jerome’s gaze. It reminds you of a lion stalking its prey, bracing itself to pounce and go in for the kill. It’s not an intentional dynamic. It just plays out that way almost naturally, for Jerome does have the air of an apex predator, confident and precise and deadly. No one could match that, much less you. And it’s not as if you have a desire to. Jerome is the best at what he does.

When you reach the first floor, your hand slides off the railing and you grip at your clutch with both hands, and you’re thankful you have it to hold. Had it not been here, you would instead be wrenching your hands together in nervousness. This is the first time Jerome is seeing the outfit you had chosen. He had left it up to you to decide, and you didn’t want him to see any part of it until the day of.

Jerome is glad he waited.

“You look…” he trails off, trying to find the perfect word. “ravishing.” In a show of satisfaction of his choice of word, he grins widely, teeth showing, and it is not an expression at all reminiscent of innocence or sheepishness. You say that because you remember reading that as the definition of grin… somewhere… A broad smile conveying innocence, sheepishness, embarrassment, or happiness. Jerome’s trademark Cheshire cat simper fits none of those. Well, maybe except happiness, though not of the innocent kind.

“Thank you.” You accept the praise gladly, smiling slightly. Once upon a time you might have shied away, blushed, waved it off as no big deal. But you’ve learned many things from time spent with your beloved boyfriend, and one is that you take all compliments in stride, allow it to empower you. Monkey see, monkey do. Isn’t that right?

Jerome takes the few steps toward you, eyes sliding down from yours to survey the neckline, which emphasizes your chest. His eyes are glued to the curve of your breasts, watches the way your chest rises gently and then falls, only to repeat as you breathe steadily. You straighten your back beneath his scrutinizing gaze, which only serves to push your breasts out more. Jerome squashes down a groan. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches up, pushing your hair away and back over your shoulder, effectively undoing the work you’d done less than five minutes ago. Cool air passes over your exposed skin again, but this time you can’t suppress the slight shudder despite exhaling slowly. It could be the unexpectedness of the cold. It could be the lasciviousness with which Jerome’s gaze roves over you.

“I almost want to cancel those dinner plans,” Jerome admits, eyes finding yours again. Even without further explanation it’s easy to understand why he might want to stay in instead. You wouldn’t mind, because it’s still time spent with him, but you were rather excited to wear your little number tonight. So you voice that to him.

“But I was excited to wear this out.” You motion to your dress. “I doubt I’ll wear it any other day.”

Jerome hums. “Then the events of tonight proceed! Wouldn’t want to disappoint the missus.” He holds an arm out for you to take, wide grin back on his face. “Shall we?”

As per usual, the drive to the restaurant on the other side of town is about fifteen minutes shorter than it logistically should be due to Jerome’s driving tendencies. There was a point where his risky maneuvers may have worried you, the way he squeezes into tiny spaces to change lanes and pass cars, his almost instantaneous accelerations the moment the light turns green, tires screeching with the harsh push. And on late nights there’s the swerving back and forth through all the lanes because there’s no one there anyway.

But now his pushing what must be ninety an hour—you don’t know for sure, you didn’t lean over to check the speedometer—feels like a comfortable cruising speed to you. You could probably fall asleep. But you’re not tired. The clicking of the turn signal is the perfect, out of time metronome to the music playing on the radio.

The lights in the restaurant are dimmed, emanating a romantic mood. Admittedly it’s a little difficult to see, so you don’t really like it. You’re ten minutes early for your reservation. But the host sits you anyway, because they already have the table prepared. As you walk along the aisle to your spot, you can’t help but notice how Jerome is almost camouflaged in this dim lighting due to his black suit. The only pop of color is his red hair, styled back neatly (though one strand escapes, resting on his forehead, which always seems to happen). And, well, you—dazzling red dime piece at his side.

Dinner is a blur of bordeaux glasses filled with bottomless Amarone (“Where there is no wine, there is no love,” Jerome recites as he picks up his glass by the stem and surveys the dark liquid) and a fancy dish you’re much too embarrassed to try and pronounce. High-end establishments always seem to have the most complicated-sounding dishes. Perhaps that lends itself to the fanciness?

You feel filled by the end of it. Not stuffed, for that’s a thing you’ve sworn off long ago. Always better to stop when simply not hungry as opposed to eating until you feel as though you’ll vomit. You sigh in contentment as you finish off the last of your current glass of wine and set your hand over the opening when the waiter comes by to inquire if you’d like a refill. You smile and shake your head, but Jerome takes one more as he pays for the bill. He doesn’t let you look at the check.

The cool night air greets you when you step out of the restaurant. Gotham’s lights are a telltale sign of its life and vitality that will continue even into the late hours of the night, when the less savory crowds come out to play. But if you don’t think about the people, just think about the lights, the skyscrapers… It’s a beautiful place. And it complements the almost perfect night. You can’t help but feel as though this date is missing… something. By the look Jerome is giving you, you know that “something” will come to pass once you two arrive home. Maybe he’ll reach one hundred an hour on the drive back.

As you approach your car, there’s a whistle, a catcall for your attention. You and Jerome twist around, though your expressions are vastly different. Yours is one of confusion, trying to pinpoint the location of the whistle, while Jerome’s is hard, menacing, already intent on showing whoever dared to pull that shit on his girl a lesson.

It’s over by an alley do you see the perpetrator, leaning against the dingy brick wall. His smile is leering, illuminated by the street lamps. “Hey, baby,” he starts. His voice is gravelly. Is he drunk? “Come ditch pretty boy. I can show you a real good time.” He laughs to himself, as though he’s told a really good joke.

Or perhaps this is another something that would be the icing to your date night, and one that’s not any less stimulating.

Jerome grits his teeth, glances down at you. You meet his gaze for a split second—you didn’t even have to do that to know what he was asking for. Wordlessly you open your clutch and the lamps catch the gleam of metal.

The redhead smiles dangerously. “That’s my girl.” He takes the knife, holds it close to his side. You don’t hold up a hand to stop him as he walks over to the man. He doesn’t stick around long enough to see you smile as well, one sickeningly sweet, a stark contrast to the situation at hand.

When the man sees Jerome coming at him, steps resolute, he stands up straight. “What the fuck’s your problem—” He doesn’t get any further than that because Jerome’s fist has found a home in his face. When he staggers, your boyfriend grabs him and shoves him into the alley, away from the lights and prying eyes.

You don’t feel much like waiting here alone. After all, who’s to say another just like that man won’t come walking on by? Jerome took the only knife between the two of you, and it’s not like your fists are any good. So you follow, heels clicking on the concrete, ticking away a beat that seems to be on time with the sound of the knife digging into flesh, stab after stab.

Jerome pauses to rest his arms, panting steadily, chest heaving from adrenaline. His sinister grin is back in all its glory, his face stained with crimson. You’re sure he’s gotten some on his suit, but it would only show up as a dark stain. He holds the knife out to you. The silver metal is red now. He doesn’t speak, but his excited eyes are enough to convey his desire for you to snatch it out of his hand and participate.

You don’t take the knife right away, instead glancing at the heap of a man on the ground. You tilt your head, listening, and then hear his faint, pained groan. He’s still alive—though probably just barely. 

Well, Jerome has always said to take compliments in stride, right? Let them give you power. And this man had just whistled after you, and in a way that’s a compliment. You looked nice, and he seemed to think so, although his way of communicating it was… less than appropriate.

But it’s good enough for you.

And thus empowered, you take the few steps to Jerome and grab the knife, the blood on the handle immediately transferring to your once clean hand, and you dig it into the drunk cat-caller. Gladly. Excitedly. There’s a smile that finds its way to your face, one that this time Jerome sees.

He glances back out at the main street: no one is there. He takes a moment to survey the immediate surrounding buildings, the sound of metal digging into flesh a background noise—he scans the fire escapes and any other small place where people could be hiding. There probably are witnesses up there, but they’re the delinquents, the criminals, the misfits. No one will rat you out. In a city so crime-ridden, what’s one more murder? And he’s sure there’s bound to be those that recognize him. It would be foolish to rat on him.

So Jerome turns his attention back to you, smiles proudly, not unlike the way you had smiled at him, watching him make his way over to this drunkard in the first place.

There is blood on your dress but it’s hard to see on the red fabric. You’re sure there’s some on your face, to match your boyfriend’s. To check, your tongue snakes out, slides along your bottom lip, where you’re sure your lipstick is still painted on immaculately. You taste iron, and it is strong. 

Jerome has taught you a great many things, most unintentional. You caught on from watching, observing. Itching to try things yourself. Get your hands dirty. See how it feels. And it feels good. It feels great.

You don’t even remember the first time Jerome offered you the knife, gave you the opportunity to sate your curiosity despite the fact you’d never asked but he’s Jerome Valeska and he recognizes the bloodthirsty gazes in everyone.

You wonder if this is always the way you were meant to be, or if it was Jerome’s influence. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Monkey see, monkey do. Isn’t that right?

[vab-universe]

First Date Endeavors

Since for some reason everyone loves to pair Enji Todoroki with young readers (ok, I get it, cuz like, Enji is zaddy af. And he’s definitely sugar daddy material.) Buuut I’d love to see this middle aged man with an age appropriate woman who can meet him where he’s at, challenges him and isn’t calling him daddy 😩😩™️ the minute he looks at her sideways (although I meeeannn- I probably definitely would!) Character is an OC with her own back story so if y’all want a self insert I’m sowwy.

“I still can’t believe you have a date.” Fuyumi marveled as she adjusted her father’s collar.

“Gee, thanks Fuyumi.” Enji shot back, rolling his eyes. “Am I that repulsive?”

“Of course not, Dad! It’s just...well...I guess I never really saw you as the dating type. This lady must really be something special if you reached out to me.”

“She certainly left that impression on me.”

“Well,” Fuyumi stepped back to assess her handy work. “I think you’re gonna leave an impression on her once she gets a look at you tonight.”

A blush burned Enji’s cheeks. He damn sure hoped So. He’d always prided himself on having good style. Especially with his build making it so difficult to find clothes. Even so, his knowledge of Italian suits and French footwear, couldn’t make up for the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in over twenty years.

That was where Fuyumi came in. After convincing his dumbfounded daughter that he had, indeed, asked a woman out on a proper date, she’d jumped at the chance to help him pick out something to wear.

Now he stood in a deep burgundy blazer which Fuyumi had paired with a camel colored button down and dark denim dress jeans. He didn’t think he looked too bad; If anything, he was a bit too casual for his taste. Jeans? This was a date after all. But Fuyumi insisted the relaxed spin was more ‘hip’ and she had styled it well so, he decided to roll with it.

“So, where are you guys going, anyway?”

“That sushi place just outside of town. You know the one-“

“Ohh! With the good roasted eel?” Fuyumi’s steel grey eyes lit up. “I love that place!”

“I think she will too.” Enji replied as he straightened his jacket.

“I know she will.” Fuyumi stole a glance at her phone screen. “You better get goin’, Dad, you said you’d pick her up at eight right?”

“Right, right...” Enji replied, angling his head to the right to examine his outfit in the full length mirror.

He frowned. Something was off. “You know, on second thought, I think the jacket is too much. Do you think the jacket is too much?”

“What? No way. It pulls the outfit together—makes you look distinguished.”

“Tch. Distinguished.” Enji scoffed. “Just another word for old. Is this cologne too strong?”

Fuyumi crossed her arms. She couldn’t help the amused smile that was working it’s way onto her face. For the first time in her life, she was witnessing her capable, strong willed father getting nervous.

Grimcing, Enji went on to explain his concern: “That little blonde brat; Sho’s...friend, said I smelled like...old man.”

“Dad,” Fuyumi interjected, “You’re not old, you smell good, and you look great. You’re gonna be fine. Just be yourself. If this lady didn’t like you, she wouldn’t have said yes.”

She shot him a reassuring smile. Her optimistic expression easing his nerves.

“Ok,” he sighed, regaining his composure. This time, when he looked back into the mirror, he stared at his reflection head on, determination burning in his blue eyes. He squared his shoulders.

“Ok. You’re right. I’m Endeavor. I can do this...But maybe this watch is too flashy-

“Dad, go!”

Minutes later, Enji’s driver was chauffeuring him to the other side of town to pick up his date. Usually, driving or being chauffeured was cathartic for the busy pro-hero. One of the few quiet moments he could steal to himself. But with the reality of his date being right around the corner, the burly man couldn’t stop jittering.

With his chin resting in his hand, Enji gazed out the window at the blurred lights and flashing colors of town, not really seeing. He was far too deep in his thoughts to decipher anything else.

This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.

Was one of the many thoughts running through the pro hero’s mind as his driver chauffeured him to his date’s house.

No you’re not. Let’s look at your minuscule track record with relationships: There’s your kids, two of which barely speak to you. The son you killed. And your ex wife who just recently worked up the courage to see you face to face after eleven years.

“Ugh,” he groaned, massaging his temple. “Enji, You big fool, just go home. You’re only going to waste this woman’s time.”

“We’re here Todoroki-San.”

“Dammit.”

No turning back now, you idiot. Just try not to fuck this up.

Straightening his jacket, Enji leaned his head back against the cool leather seats in an attempt to temper his thoughts. A deep, burdened sigh escaped him. He was Endeavor. The number one hero. He didn’t run from things, least of all a simple dinner date.

“I can do this.”

With one last attempt at a half hearted pep talk, Enji stepped into the cool summer night and jogged up to Hanabi Namiha’s door.

When she opened it, he felt his heartbeat kick into overdrive.

“Hi handsome.” She smiled.

The bluenette bombshell was the embodiment of sex appeal.

Instead of the elegant French bun she had worn at his agency, Her silver streaked azure hair now tumbled around her shoulder. Her simple black dress hugged her voluptuous body, showing off a pair of toned arms, and teasing a hint of cleavage; while the purple suede heels she wore emphasized her short shapely legs. No pep talk in the world could have prepared Enji for how stunning she looked

“Ha-Hello Hanabi-San.”

God. You can’t even make it through a greeting without sounding like a dumb ass.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He managed.

“Thank you. You clean up pretty nice yourself, Endeavor.” She winked.

As Enji ushered his date into the car, he stole a glance at what was wiggling under the curve hugging dress Namiha was wearing.

He couldn’t help but think what a...handful it would be to handle in the bedroom—and how he would gladly rise to the challenge if given the opportunity.

Once Enji slid in next to her, he tapped the partition signaling for his driver to take them to the restaurant.

“Champagne?” He offered, motioning to the ice bucket set up in the center.

“Please.”

Thank god, she gave him an excuse to drink without looking like a lush. He filled both of their flutes.

Enji studied his date as her face lit up in the blurred lights of the city.

She looked contemplative. Gazing unseeingly at her drink as she swirled it around in her flute.

This proud and boisterous woman who had come into his office, moving with such confidence and grace. Now she was still and calm with that quiet elegance that had caught his eye when he first met her.

There was just something about her. He felt as if he could study her for a lifetime, and never figure that “something” out.

After a thoughtful pause ,Namiha perked up.

“Let’s toast.” She proposed suddenly, turning in her seat to face Enji. Her azure eyes sparkled with such excitement, that he found himself smiling at her enthusiasm.

“What’s the occasion?” Enji asked with a sip of his drink.

“Hmm,” she leaned towards him. “To something new with someone new.”

His smile grew wider. “Hear, hear.”

The two clinked glasses and chugged their drinks merrily.

“So,” Namiha propped her knees up on the seat. She shot him a sly smile. “Is this how the great Endeavor prepares for a fight?”

“No,” Enji raised his brows at her. “This is how The great Endeavor prepares himself for his first date in twenty years.”

“Oh thank god, you’re in the same position as me.” Namiha sighed. Her features relaxing. “I was so nervous about tonight, I actually called my daughters for pointers.” She giggled.

Enji chuckled. “I asked my daughter to help me get ready for tonight.”

“So, we’re equally hopeless, huh?” Namiha asked as she fixed herself another drink.

“I prefer the term; out of practice, but yes, it appears so.” Enji replied, tilting his drink towards her.

“Well then,” she looked him over, “I guess we can practice together.”

A half smile graced his lips as he gazed back at his date. “Promise?”

As the couple stared at one another, something unspoken hung in the air between them. Nerve wracking, exciting and hopeful all at once.

“We’re here, Todoroki-San.”

The driver announced as the car halted.

There was definitely no turning back now.

[industryskillsdeantemjit]

Task 2: Production

After completing the research, creating the mood board and all of the sketches are in place. It is time for the final production. Although I have created the 10 sketches that are already in places, what I usually do is develop more ideas as I go along during the final production. To some people, this may seem like a waste of time and that I should have all of the ideas sketched in the sketchbook before the final production. However, in my case, if I came up with better ideas or designs that I really like, I will change it regardless of the sketches that I’ve already created. 

This is a more of an organic approach to doing things, and I preferred it this way rather than being faithful to the original design since I am only focusing on what’s the best thing to do to create an excellent final product. 

I initially wanted to sketch a drawing of the final character traditionally and was planning to scan in the work that way. However, as I mentioned before, I wanted to push myself to my limit and get out of my comfort zone by doing things. I will be sketching the ideas, do the line work and paint it all in photoshop. However, before I begin sketching, the first step I took for my creation is to plan where the primary light sources will be. In this case, I created a primary light on the top left which came from the light of a portal to get out of the underworld. Another primary light source will be coming from bottom right which is the flame.

After setting up where the light sources are going to be, I then begin the sketch on a new layer. I added features that I had drawn in the sketchbook and implemented to the character to see if I like the look of it. 

I then covert the colour from brown to dark grey as I planned to begin doing the outline soon. I’ve also changed the hairstyle as I didn’t really like the short hairstyle I initially created. 

Started doing the outline.

Halfway through, I realised that I didn’t like the look of her chest armour so I am trying to think of designs I could create.

I re-designed her chest armour. However, I soon realised that I didn’t like the other parts of her armour as well which I basically ended up re-designed her whole outfit.

I flipped the canvas to get a better view of the character which I then removed her head as I wanted her face to look more mature and as semi-realistic as possible.

I took my time drawing her head which took a lot of time to get the proportion correct. At this point, I had also removed some of her armours and scarf as I do think that there are too many accessories on her which is kind of distracting. 

A new design again.

After I was satisfied with how her face looked, I begin to re-designed every armour on her body to create the final sketch version ready to be outlined.

A cleaned outline of the sketch finished.

I resized the character to fit the canvas and blocking the whole character with dark grey colour. 

There are many ways to approach painting in Photoshop. However, a method which I prefer is painting in values. I believe painting in values is the way to make every painting successful. Colours are just extras. Even taking the colours away, you will be able to read the painting with only values because it is the most important. Moreover, I believe painting in values is easy as I will be able to plan and determine where the lights and shadows. Whereas painting in colours, I will have a difficult time not only trying to paint in lights and shadows but the fact that I have to spend time trying to find the right colour tones as well.

Next, I painted some details on the horns.

I then paint the hair on a different layer as to not mess things up if something does go wrong.

I then decided to re-paint the skin colour of my character as I thought it wasn’t as smooth as I wanted it to be. I blocked out all of the skins using a grey colour which I will then use it as a clipping mask.

The rendering process for the skin is completed - including the face.

These images are gathered from the internet where I took parts of a particular rock terrain and stitched it together to create the look that I wanted. I noticed that many concept artists used this method to not only get the results that they wanted but to also save time. 

I placed the rock images in the place that I wanted to create this slanted rocky hill as it will fade away into the depths. 

I painted a rough sketch over the images. It doesn’t really have to be perfect, and I don’t need to put in too many details into it as all of this is going to be blurred anyway.

Applied Gaussian blur to the painting.

I paint some of the small rocks, and these rocks don’t need too many details in them at all. 

I then applied Motion blur into these rocks as I want the viewers to notice the motion of the rocks where the character is going to be hovering.

The final process for painting in values where I added the character in and brightens up the scene. 

Now that the character has been painted in values and that I have checked that the values are correct. It is now time for me to paint the character in the colours. However, before I begin, since I’m not familiar with how to add colours over the painted values. I did some research by watching Youtube tutorials and see how the artists painted their works. 

[video]

One thing I noticed, in particular, is how they keep mentioning that if I just apply colour straight onto the painted values, the colours will look weird and not correct. Therefore, what I did was used a gradient map onto the whole character. This was to give colour information to the painting, and when I do add the colours in, it will look a little bit more natural.

However, there are still a lot more works needed to be done than just adding the gradient map. This was adjusting the tones of the colours, and I will be explaining the process I used to paint my character in detailed down below.

The first step I did was to, of course, add the gradient map. I added the gradient map in separate layers. For instance, the skin, the armour and the hair. To add a gradient map, go to Image > Adjustments > Gradient Map. Furthermore, The reason why I chose this purple to skin tone gradient map was that I wanted the character to have some cool tones on the body parts to show some reflections and bounce lights from the underworld, which is supposed to be purple to cool colours. 

The next step I did was working in layers by layers. I will be starting with the skin tones first and moving my way towards the armour and the hair. For this layer, since I wanted the skin to look a little rough and have this painted feel to it - I decided to paint on top of the gradient map layer. Furthermore, the gradient map provided the best source of colours since the colour was a little purple which is the atmosphere in the underworld that I wanted. All I have to do was pick some purple tones and apply it to the skin to create this bounce lights from the atmosphere.

The next thing I did was adding some highlights to the skin to indicate that the lights are coming from the top left and bottom right.

Once the tones and the highlights of the skin are correct, I then paint another skin layer on top of it to create a more natural skin colour and to add some saturation to it so that the skin tones don’t look weird. 

I then paint the armour parts using the brush tool and control select the layer to select all.

I then added a gradient map to the selected layer, and this colour is going to be the primary colour of some of the armour parts.

For all of the white parts of the armour and the clothing, I painted white colours over it but also adding a tint of purple and pink tones onto it to create some reflection.

Next was to add the silver colours to show that it is an armour. The colours I chose was a little darker in blue because of the atmosphere in the background. 

I then added a gradient map onto the hair to create this purple to red gradient on the hair.

Although I do like the character without its outline, I believe adding the outlines would make the character look a lot better. However, I won’t be adding all outlines to the character as it’d make the character look unrealistic and flat. I’d just be adding it a little bit so that the form or shape of the character looked better, especially the face. 

I then paint a scythe for the character really quickly without the outline. The reason why I didn’t add any outlines was that this was to show the depths that the scythe is farther away from the character. In addition to that, I’ve also set the brush opacity to lower than 50% and painted some areas of the scythe to show that it is faded into the depths.

Next is when I start applying a flame on the bottom right as I’ve initially planned.

The next thing I did was adding more flames and sparks on the painting to indicate that the character is moving up and by using the flame motion as a guide to where the viewer should be looking.

I then added a warm photo filter to make the skin looked a little warmer so that it would fit with the fire effects. In addition to that, I’ve also made the lights on the top left brighter to highlight some areas on the character.

Finally, I then add an orange gradient behind the fire to make the painting look realistic and added a smoke behind it to give some motion effect to the character as if it’s fly through with a heavy explosion. Furthermore, I also added some highlights on the scythe and the character to show some bounce lights from the flames on the object and on the skin to make the painting look better.

[eorzeasntm]

C7 - Week 2 Results!

Hello everyone, Week 1 is over everyone, and so here are the critiques, and winner for the week! Remember there is no elimination this cycle!

Week two results, the winner is:

Nadede Lasalle

Congratulations for making it to the top, let’s see if you will continue to stay there!

Below are the comments from the judges~!

 Flare:

Stephen Fairbrook: I actually like how the waterfall is your main focal point, but there is much more scenery around you for us all to enjoy. Nice work with the tones and hues.

 Nadede: This is my favorite background among all the pictures. It's nice and vibrant with a nice dark tone to it. Your outfit blends well with it, same goes for the action animation.

 Rivienne Cotrlaint: Nothing like taking a refreshing dip on a hot day. This would be the perfect Eorzean summer picture. I would have also loved to have seen your eyes. The hair covers much of the face with that angle.

 WoW Wie:  A great vibrant and colorful background, the lighting isn't much here but it's all thats needed to be honest. One thing I would have changed was maybe found a more 'dance' oriented pose if that's what you were looking for.

 Kusuh Valentione: This actually looks like your training/meditating in front of the waterfall, making you the focal point, instead of just posing with a waterfall in the background.

 Noesis Phobos: What a view! This is gorgeous and you make it look like you do it every day. The angle is just right.

 Doki Kodoki: Another vibrant background with a soothing pose. Nice use of the amazon pants as well.

  Gangly:

Doki Kodoki

 Beautiful! The darker background creates a nice contrast that really helps you pop out with the light on your back. And that screen effect! It works perfectly to brighten you up, but also reminds me of sun rays trickling down. Your dance creates an elegant and soothing mood to the shot, and it feels as if you are one with nature, finding peace and quiet as you dance with the fireflies. I don’t want to be that person, but your waterfall is rather small and hidden, but I do get the impression that there is a much larger waterfall to your right because of the taller rocks and water. Nonetheless, the composition of this shot is fantastic!

 Nadede Lasalle

I’m getting some Stormblood hype with the martial arts under the waterfall! The screen effect adds some soft light in the top corner, as well as brightens the plants in the back. Your pose and outfit work very well together, and because of the screen tilt, I feel like you’re about to kick some water at the screen! I know the lighting around the plants is weird, and as a result, I think the light hitting your body looks a bit unnatural because of how dark the right side of your body is. I’m not sure if moving over to the right would help lessen the lighting on your back, but I also think you could have zoomed in just a bit closer! I do love the moonlight hitting your face and the top of your shoulder and arm; really gives it that midnight training feel!

 Kusuh Valentione

I love the waterfall to your back! You and the waterfall are the only things the viewer can focus on! The white of the waterfall is a great contrast to your darker skin. Your pose works quite nicely to give the sense that you’re meditating, and the screen effect gives the shot an almost dream-like quality, as if the viewer is about to pulled into your thoughts as you meditate. I think taking the shot straight on instead of from the side could intensify that effect. Because you are facing left, I feel the shot is slightly cut off; I want to see what is on the other side. I am also not sure if the pants you chose are the best choice. It is mainly the belt that is throwing me off; it has a pirate feel to it. I do like how you chose to go shirtless because the wet effect on your skin defines your muscles and allows me to imagine the splashing of the waterfall even if there aren’t any visible effects!

 Rivienne Cotrlaint

Hahaha, I love the story of this shot! The distance in which this shot was taken is just right; you are close enough to be the main focus, and because we can see the surface of the water but not your legs, it creates the illusion that you’re waist-deep in the water! Having your back turned to the camera and face slightly turned to the side gives your character a very sexy feel along with the black bikini. I’m not sure the screen effect works as intended in this shot. Because it is bright out, the screen effect gives the shot a foggy look. I’m curious as to what the shot would look like at night, where the effect would be more prominent. I am absolutely in love with your expression however; it brings the whole piece together!

 Noesis Phobos

I am in love with this perspective! The angle in which the shot was taken manages to not only keep you in focus, but shows the grand depth of the waterfalls and how high up you are in comparison to the bottom of the water. Your outfit and pose display an adventurous mood, while your smirk reveals your unmoving confidence as you “live on the edge”. The lighting is just right, and I can tell that the Brilliant 2 effect added a bit more around your face and the middle of the shot, but it’s so faint it almost looks as if it’s not there. Of course, the focus is not supposed to be the effects, but I feel a more visible and “hard” effect such as reflection blur could really give the viewer a sense of added intensity to the already daring feel of the shot!

 Stephen Fairbrook

The western feel of this shot is so unique! The desert may be unforgiving, but it also contains some beautiful secrets! I love your outfit in combination with the background and filter; the cowboy-like outfit sets the theme of the shot as a whole, and the location, filter, and effect serve to enhance that. The colored pencil filter added interesting value into your outfit, making it more prominent in the shot, and the light hitting the rocks creates a nice contrast to waterfall in the back. Because of how bright the foreground is, your face becomes a bit overlit as a result. I think taking advantage of your hat and looking down so the front tips just over your eyes could create a bit more shadow on your face and give you a cool cowboy look!

 Wow Wie

What a lovely nighttime shot! You are practically surrounded by waterfalls, and the moonlight hitting you is fantastic! The screen effect adds some nice glow around you, and your outfit and dance give off a carefree and relaxed mood. I think the camera could have been tilted down just a bit, because it looks like you are looking off at something else. I also think the pose you chose during the dance makes it look as if you’re a little slanted because I can’t see the rest of your legs, and the majority of your body is slightly off-center. If you were over to the right just a bit, I could make sense of your looking off in the distance, as well as giving the shot a sense of motion as you dance!

 Katarh:

 Nadede - Now THIS is a perfect use of camera tilt!  It provides a different view of the background without distortion, but more importantly allows your character to appear upright in the frame.  Brilliant 2 (popular choice this round) softens the background and makes it feel ethereal, but doesn't overpower the character.  It gives almost an oil painting quality to the lighting in the upper left corner. Good usage of the rule of thirds, and great composition all around.

 Stephen - This feels like something out of a vintage magazine. I love the concept of a cowboy returning from the desert. Noise 2 was a nice choice for this composition, although I wish you'd managed to capture even more of the distortion and lines to make it really feel like a tale out of the wild west.

 Doki - Tiny waterfalls for a tiny Lala.  I like the pose and costume along with this setting - like you're completing an ancient ritual in the moonlight.  The fireflies are a cute touch as well.  Brilliant 2 adds some splashes of color to break up the monochrome, but otherwise doesn't distract from the composition.

 Noesis - Lovely choice for a waterfall at the Tilted Ewer. This is a really cool perspective shot and I love the effect from the forcefield directly behind the character. I'm having some trouble seeing the Brilliant 2 effect here, though, and the sharp bare edge of the cliff is a bit distracting in the lower half of the image.  Sometimes the choice between showing all the character and cutting it off to avoid polygon issues from the game engine is a really tough decision. Your outfit is perfect for the location, as if you're an explorer or a merchant setting off on a trip.

  Kush -  This is one of the simplest backgrounds this week - and with the reflection blur, it works perfectly!  It draws the eyes straight onto the character, who is running through his exercises.  I like that he's looking away from the camera, but the shot might be a bit stronger if he wasn't dead center.  Also really nice outfit selection.  Those biceps! (swoon)

 Rivienne - Back shots are always a risk but you pulled this off nicely - the impression I get is a coy warning to not come any closer!   Brilliant 2 adds some splashes of color, but I think this relatively plain background could have used just a bit more dressing up.   Good choice of outfit to be a bathing beauty - I think the matching ring bands are a nifty complement to the bathing suit.

 Wow Wie - Dancing in the moonlight below the stars, with colored lights all around!  Great choice of waterfall and outfit - it really sets the scene.  I think this shot would be a bit stronger if your character was more wholly in the picture, and off center.  Don't be afraid to play with those camera zooms!  I really like the faintly upturned gaze, as if she's spotted something off in the distance, far from the view of camera.