#also he DID get a new digital palette. it’s barely noticeable but he looks a lot better 2 me

[jitteryjive]

one thing about him is that he’s a sweet handsome boy

[juleswolverton-hyde]

A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning | 04

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst, Stepbrother AU

Pairing: Stepbrother!Namjoon x English student!Reader

Warning: Possessive/Toxic behaviour & relationships, self-harm

Summary: Love comes in many shapes, but does not always have a prosperous fate. However, whereas parents might have found it, all the children can do is live in kalopsia.

Forbidden yet denying the mourning of the path chosen for them by Fate.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

Remorse is at times an unrighteous sentiment begotten from a crime that is inherently not the accomplice’s but for which blame is felt regardless of knowing the true culprit, the factor that moved the hands of an innocent bystander who tried to fight against temptation. Notwithstanding, even when it is deserved, it will be tried to be avoided with assumed white lies which cover up the impact of the evoked disillusioning chaos. Just to maintain a sense of clarity, of logic.

Of Sense.

Right now, it is endeavoured to be found in the steps of onyx lacquered shoes and equally dark worn sneakers stained with Scottish mud over mustard and brick tiles leading towards the historic city centre pierced by canals and where it is more likely to get run over by a bicycle than a car. Yet, it is not enough for there are no explanations for why it cannot return when they cross the bridge and walk towards the plaza of the Holy Virgin.

Halfway through the street with furniture stores, cafés and individual shops, however, a worrying distraction - but one, nonetheless - appears in the form of the accidentally revealed novel pinkish scar by an unconsciously pushed up dusk-shaded sleeve, the friction of which also moves the scarlet shirt underneath. The rigid misplaced colour palette on caramel makes feet stop immediately, the sudden action making the silver wolf whose hand is held also halt to look backwards at the frozen ashen Red Riding Hood.

This is something that should have been put in the past a long time ago.

Had been, for the canvas of white scars did not seem to be altered for a long time. Then again, when had it last been looked at in recent times, carefully inspected on a regular basis during any period in the past two years?

Face almost as pale as a ghost, a mirror of the ghastly expression in frightened eyes which are near tears with grave concern, the wound is meticulously investigated now that it is broadly on display. Old habits have been abandoned in favour of pleasing a koala ignorant of the mutual feelings of the protector, but it would, unfortunately, seem not all are left behind.

‘When did this happen?’ Speech has been reduced to a frightened whisper, rapidly closing the unintentionally established distance to trace fingers over the fresh cut. ‘When did you do this?’

‘Do what?’ With a firm tug, the wrist is attempted to be freed from the unsuspectingly suddenly firm hold yet fails in doing so. Instead of another try, there is faked dismissing bewilderment in espresso irises despite knowing full well the signs shown by Reality cannot be denied. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Joon, there’s no use in playing pretend. Especially not now.’ The palm covers the hideousness from the sight of the world, silent pleads enforcing the repeated inquiry with a gradually breaking voice, reduced further and further into the rubble the heart has become at the bodily discovery. ‘When? Please, I need to know.’

Already once it had been too close to a disastrous ending and ever since there has been an unspoken oath to the grey-haired poet and the wordy girl living under the same roof.

It was on the night shortly - six months or so ago - after commemorating moving in as step-siblings a year earlier when, in hindsight only realized, forbidden feelings towards an unworthy student of English Language and Culture had begun to develop in earnest. The far from hushed arguments about missed Skype calls or very vague answers making the Korean Fox suspicious of adultery that had become more frequent resonate anew in the ears now, that night vivid once more as the shapes on the cave wall change to portray past shadows instead of their contemporary counterparts.

Sleep did not come easy as the bladder was continuously complaining about the grand amount of two cups of coffee it had to endure, one right after dinner before going to the gym with Namjoon - the usual sport buddy - and later the second while comfortably reading the short stories for the next seminar until lids began to feel heavy. Annoyed by the incapability of the Body to ignore the need until dawn, the bed was reluctantly abandoned as the first October breath blew through the open window, padding slowly down the attic stairs only to speed up to a run when low sobs disturbed the noisy creaking of the steps. Jeonja and Da were still downstairs, the television so loud it could be clearly heard upstairs, seeing as the latter seems to be annoyingly hard-hearing, and thus the soft crying was easily tuned out for those sitting in happy comfort in the living room.

The scared red-rimmed puffy eyes holding the horrifying resignation of the broad-shouldered bear clad in a simple raven-toned hoodie and monotone alabaster T-shirt looked up at the intruder, a panicked figure outfitted in a shirt stolen from the one on the tiled floor which held a sliver of the scent of smoke and coffee - the elements of late summer nights together - and who was turned to stone like during the recent event on the plaza of the Separated Church while staring at the trembling horrific boxcutter and flow of dark crimson.

Punishment. That one simple word formed the answer after the cursing outcry and the vulgar language that followed in its wake but was stopped as soon as the faucet provided the water to wash away the blood. Attention turned then to cleaning the wound precariously close to the pulse, ignoring to the best of personal ability the absurd excuses that it was well deserved. That this care was not necessary.

That I needed to stop.

But all of the begging was in vain, commanding to keep the wrist under the running jet of a million white healing drops as bare feet rushed out to the parental bedroom. A fist smashed the light switch to turn it on and shaking hasty digits searched for the first-aid kit in the lowest drawer of the wardrobe by the window providing a view of the small backyard, finding it to a small curt elevation to a sense of relief after noisily turning the whole thing upside-down.

Fearful of every second being potentially the last one, a sprint was pulled in the return to the bathroom and knees fallen to on the ground with a low thud that made Namjoon reach out toward the naked thigh, carefully, as if it were made of china, caressing the skin with ironic concern. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘This isn’t the time to worry about me, Joon.’ The most nearby towel was pulled from the radiator on the wall after ending the limitless stream of rushing water, the big tanned hand remaining in place on a much smaller body and occasionally tightening the hold with the need to hang on to anything real when the surface beneath the touch moved. The conflicting corrupted sentiments about Love were oppressed entirely by the overwhelming panic speeding up the beat of a heart that normally could reach a similar pace just by being together, thus nullifying the ability to take notice of the intimacy and let it add to futile Fancy. ‘It’s you whose important now.’

As if having been a nurse in a former life, the right wrist was taken into the lap and properly taken care of, bandaging it up while applying pressure to stop the scarlet flow damaging both present parties. Afterwards, when gazes met once more and the one of the then ashy brown bear was noticed to be watery, a small palm automatically placed itself on the warm salt-streaked cheek, a thumb lovingly wiping away the tears. Ever since, the gesture has had the same calming effect on the poet, be it in when sorrowfully sitting by the bathtub with a shining sharp boxcutter in hand to cut open flesh to end the influence of Life or when raging with jealous menace at seeing the chances with one who should never be threatened on academic grounds.

Though not really affectionate in general, sometimes exceptions are made for a koala and thus the guardian let the one he protects till this very day crawl into the lap and run digits through hair after removing the dark twilight hood, arms sprinkled with the traces of past wounds, revealed by pushed up sleeves, strongly embracing a hapless girl who buried her nose in comforting smoky skin with the wish to never have it taken away. The boxcutter, however, was dearly wished to be erased. Vanished to never return.

Just once the renewed flight to cigarettes was excused.

Because Love is not trivial.

But it is filled with compromise.

Yet, protecting one another is not one. It is a lasting promise.

Forevermore.

Reality returns as shadows figure themselves again to their earlier shapes, a grey wolf mockingly and hesitantly attempting to avoid having to reply to the inquiry when the latest scar was added to the hideous canvas. ‘Let’s just go for solely coffee instead. I’m not that hungry.’ A step forward cannot happen, merely advancing half a meter due to being held back by deceivingly powerful determined hands. ‘Y/N, let’s just go. It’s nothing. Come on, bear.’

‘Answer me.’ Speech begins to crumble, slightly distorted by bordering on the edge of annoyed anger because of not getting any reply that could let a secret protector of a five-years-older man execute the duties accompanying the oath.

An indignant huff both causes a shot of hurt that clearly shows up in attitude and evokes another reason to stand tall, push through. ‘Why is it so important? It’s a one-time happening, a stupid slip-up. Besides, it happened a while ago.’

‘A while ago? It looks brand new to me.’ More recently healed wounds are remarked upon, not all of them faded into bleak alabaster. All of them punishments for different reasons or maybe the same. ‘Stop beating around the bush and just answer the fucking question!’

I should have checked more often. Looked for a knife or box cutter or just fucking anything that you could use to do this to yourself.

‘You’re making a scene.’ The roles are reversed, the pull on the hand more powerful this time to the extent it cannot be resisted, thus having to give in and stumble along until the Bagels and Beans on the corner of Mary’s plaza is reached, too concentrated to not fall flat on the face as earlier had been the risk.

‘Oh, as if you didn’t at the Dom. We’re not going anywhere before this issue is resolved.’ Composure is recomposed, revolting against unwavering leadership anew by putting a firm foot down, much to the annoyance of the neatly dressed debtor manager.

There is nothing human about the half-made comment being snarled in response to the resistance. ‘There is no-’

‘Obviously, there-’ But the vocal reaction to the cut-off one, going paired with a roll of the eyes, is also disregarded halfway through being formulated by the same speaker who was prematurely stopped too.

‘Last night!’ Panting like having run a marathon, Namjoon caves at last. Jeering confidence transforms into fragile remorseful uncertainty quickly at noticing the flinch frightened at the idea of potential harm for Namjoon has proven himself unpredictable, the softness of a baritone breaking voice repeating the same two words heart-wrenching. ‘Last night.’

‘Why?’

‘The breakup, it- I don’t know. My mind just turned off and all is a black hazy mess. It was- how to describe it? It was like waking up. Suddenly, I was just there, boxcutter in hand and blood was flowing. Oddly tranquil. Some idiotic side of me blamed me for giving up and pursue you, instead.’ A self-deprecating head shake goes paired with a dangerous smile displaying stark white teeth. ‘This part, it loved Heungji despite not recognizing you were there, the better alternative. That she was meaningless, a hopeless pursuit. But not you, you’re definitely worth it.’

A suffocating sense of doom tightens the throat, the next inquiry almost too horrifying due to the flashing images of more unseen wounds tainted with liquid life force. ‘It? Can you... elaborate?’

’The scars, the nights staying up trying to compose, be a better man. Be yours.’

‘You don’t need to harm yourself to be mine.’ The rapidly spoken assurance is met by no reaction, merely an absent glance sideways that signifies not getting any further information about the subject. Nonetheless, if not talking about the specifics of the topic, the broader aspects remain to be discussed. ‘And the others?’

The creepy glint lighting up espresso irises does not bode well, increasing the unease and confirming it upon speaking. ‘Recent fights between us, being there too little for you, failed music. A lot of variety in the reasons, so take your pick.’

‘I’d rather you take up smoking again than doing this.’ The established distance, just a step or two, is bridged as the formerly tightly held wrist is let go of. The face is buried in the musky scent of the scarlet shirt as quivering arms hug the beloved stepbrother turned lover, murmuring words into the fabric. ‘I thought therapy helped, that this was in the past.’

You’ve changed, but not entirely it seems. Stay with me, Namjoon.

For a moment, the gesture is not registered nor answered, but soon it is with gratefulness when warm arms quickly wrap themselves around narrow shoulders. ‘It’s needed for discipline, to remind myself you won’t miss me even if I were to disappear.’

‘Then what about what you said? You want to be there for me, provide for me but you can’t if you aren’t there. I couldn’t even for myself if you weren’t here. Remember what you said earlier?’ Eyes look up into those which have to stay, have become such a beloved sight despite the original distrust. Heavy heaves begin with the killing vision of a prospect without the bear who is occasionally a wolf, the morning coffees, the book dates, the help with studying. There will be nothing. Nothing but an emptiness which cannot be filled. ‘You need me and I need you. I don’t want yo- your company in the fo- form of a-’

Grave.

‘I’m still here, baby. I’m here so don’t think about that. On the good days, I can and do take care of you but there will be days when I can’t. Yet, please, don’t think about them even if they are a real risk. Because, after all, I want, no, need you to be happy. Either with or without me.’ Hands lovingly caress the semi-long grey-toned locks pressed against the stomach once more, the manner of which is to the contrary of how they were treated in the monastery gardens. And when looking up with mascara-streaked cheeks again after a moment of merely enjoying the intimacy, it is the old Namjoon gazing back, the sweet encouraging poet who was met two years ago. ‘Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay, bear?’

Foreheads briefly rest against each other, a firm palm on the right forearm maintaining a bit of distance as the left thumb removes the watery ugliness with a rare affection, before lips find each other in a chaste kiss reserved for innocent lovers. Something that will never be anything more but a kalopsia in our case, but for now it is a sweet white lie to believe.

Cold is replaced by warmth, stiff muscles losing their tenseness as the mind relaxes and settles into the current Reality.

Of us.

Together.

Alive.

There is no chance to get lost in the contact, push the boundaries a bit to end the innocence just enough to be imprinted with a rougher touch out of fear of never feeling that kind of love, his, again in the shadows of the end. Unfortunately, the silver poet retreats with a last peck on the forehead though a hand on the hip maintains the closeness. ‘I think you’ve also lost your appetite, so shall we just get a coffee at the station and go home?’

A meek nod confirms the agreement to the proposal, although day to day obligations have priority over spending longer amounts of time together during the week. Hence, to endeavour to measure this brief shared repose, hoping it can for once be stretched beyond the usual half hour, they are inquired after. ‘Don’t you have to return to work?’

‘It’s pretty quiet at the office so I don’t think I’ll be missed much.’ A playful shrug dismisses the topic, nothing left to be said, but that same hurtful sadness sneaks back into the only temporarily lit up dark brown irises of the tall guy, the smile on full lips fading into a straight line. ‘Finally some time for just us again.’

‘Joon?’ The hazy veil over the staring blind gaze lifts at the nickname, blinking in confusion before realizing what has happened. ‘We should make more time in our schedules to do this.’

‘Yeah, we should.’ Absent-minded fingers glide over arms clad in the camouflage winter jacket lined with brown wolf fur to entwine with ones they actually should not hold with the same sentiments that form the foundation of the gesture yet do. ‘We see so little of each other. We’re barely home and if we are, our parents are as well. I wish... I wish we had a place just for the two of us. There wouldn’t be a need to hide and we can live however we want. Be whoever we want to be, choose our own persona. Just you and me, living under one roof as a young couple.’

The concept sounds incredibly tempting and Sense hates it, which makes it even more so. It is an ideal situation that can only be truly accomplished if both parties involved put in the necessary effort because, thinking it through in rational terms, the sole way to acquiring a home with the current estate market is by sharing the financial burden. Especially if the plan is to buy instead of renting and all the more so in this part of the country where great important cities connect by means of a great multidimensional network. Furthermore, there is the conflict with morals. ‘I’d like that, but don’t you think we’re going a bit fast?’

‘We’ve been together for two years almost. I don’t think it’s such a drastic idea to play with at this point in time.’ As before, the way is guided by a compelling hand that is too gladly taken every time, exactly like Charles Dickens who took every opportunity there was to share a fact.

‘Two years as siblings, not as a couple. There is a difference.’ Fact.

‘I’ll make it happen. I promised you I’d provide and I shall.’ But the truth is dreamily though blatantly disregarded in favour of remaining under the influence of Fancy. ‘I promised...’

And both floating in surreal imaginations in a Reality painted on the unstable rocky walls by fire, a koala and bear continue the path to caffeinated rest.

Ignorant of facts.

On the top floor of the grand station is a small coffee shop where they serve exclusively the coffee by the great entrepreneur who took over the established general grocery shop in a town nobody has likely heard of by a slightly more known father and made it into a specialty store dealing in coffee, tea and tobacco. Till this very day, it is one of the most beloved brands of caffeine addicts just like the stylish and cosy cafes serving the various types of the same beverage are, even more so in the big urban areas.

None of the other customers seated behind the dogwood counter or on the lush green faux leather sofa nor at the grand table overlooking the mass of people below looks up or only shortly with disinterest before reverting focus to a newspaper or laptop, resuming the work or study. Nevertheless, as is expected of the individual fulfilling the function, the eyes of the female barista dart to the glass door of the cube in which the coffee shop is grounded and gain an awed lustre as soon as Namjoon sets one foot inside.

It is silly how unjust jealousy can evoke uncharacteristic behaviour, seething, boiling under the gaze of unwanted attention towards a beloved from a stranger. Henceforth, arms wrap around a well-formed one, holding onto it as a show of dominance to a denied peer with whom there should be no competition in the first place. After all, if women start to fight each other then all power they have gained through fairness and hardship will fall into the hands of corrupt men again. And if that happens, all the hard work put in place by ancestors walking in footsteps similar to Wollstonecraft will be in vain. Withal, the default sentiment towards cat fights does not even begin to nullify the envy hardly endeavoured to be suppressed, instead giving off a silent warning shot with multi-coloured irises.

He is taken.

He is mine.

The anchor clearly notices the unusually possessive clinging, raising an eyebrow in wondering amusement when being halfway to the counter. ‘Y/N, what are you doing?’

Not getting an answer aside from an ashamed huff and sideways glance, the answer is found regardless with a look at the counter and the person behind it. The flirtatious barista futilely tries to appear occupied with polishing a very clean cup but obviously has furiously blushing cheeks when accidentally locking gazes with Namjoon. The puzzle pieces form a complete laughable image, the corners of full lips curving upwards. ‘I see. My God, you are a paradox, bear. First claiming you’re not into me, slapping me in a public place only to have you,’ the smugly grinning stunning silver wolf leans in, a finger tracing the shape of the mouth not daring to speak after compelling the face to turn by the chin, whispering, ‘on your knees, happily sucking my cock.’

The blunt comment now renders the ability to form a response entirely nullified, tongue numb with the sinful memory of what happened in the monastery gardens and the salty aftermath. Within the small space, there are now two crimson faces.

A low chuckle is followed up by a quick yet slightly lingering coy kiss. ‘I’ve always been and will be yours. Go find a spot for us, babe. I’ll get you your reward.’

At first a tad reluctant to let go but trusting the tanned comforting man without restriction, a two-person seat is sought in the tiny café. Fortunately, the last one on the end of the fake dark green long couch can be snatched at the last second under the watchful gaze of the poet who is a few steps away, the hint of a scowl on a handsome face when noticing the eyes of some male customers wander to a recently claimed woman in forbidden love.

However, when sitting down and dividing the ordered drinks, the experienced discomfort at being apart from each other and left bare to the influence of strangers, however briefly, ebbs away. Like an innocent couple, lovers regard one another while sipping at the edge of the cups containing caffeinated liquid heaven. The only thing that gives away true sentiments is when occasionally foamed milk is licked away from the edges of the mouth as Joon watches silently with dark intentions, sometimes biting down on a plush bottom lip with a low barely audible groan, the gesture and sound of which drives the mind across the table reeling all over again.

Eventually, though, the hush is broken off in favour of inquiring shyly about the nagging sensations regarding what was said in the throes of pleasure. ‘Joon... what you said back there... in the cloister.’

Interest is evidently piqued, the espresso put down before fingers weave together and a listening demeanour is taken on. ‘What about it?’

‘Did- Did you mean it? Were you really pla- planning on doing that?’ The cappuccino is put down as well as a similar attitude is taken on, a finger gliding over the edge of the half-filled cup. ‘Bree- Breeding me?’

There is no hesitation upon answering, no sign of genuine lies in attitude while speaking. ‘Yes.’

‘Do you still... I mean-’ Lips purse in a temporary moment of contemplating jumbled words to form a coherent sentence which is formulated shortly afterwards, ‘Are y- you still planning on it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ The tips of fingers tap nervously together, waging one emotional conflict after another due to Sense endeavouring to press in on Fancy to gain terrain as in a great epic but finding a powerful enemy in them who is not so easily defeated. ‘You do.’

It is a meagre reply, this being emphasized by the sarcastic tone in a baritone voice remarking upon the comment. ‘That’s all you have to say? Just ‘oh’?’

‘It’s just that... that it feels like we’re moving so fast. I’m nineteen, barely an adult. I get your clock is ticking differently at twenty-four, but I don’t think I’m ready to have kids, if ever.’

‘I understand, baby. But,’ big hands reach out to envelop heavily hesitating ones which should have pulled away in disgust immediately at being enveloped yet remain stuck in the limbo-inducing warmth they emit, stranded in the hypnotizing heat after the cold breeze outside in the hardly alive world, ‘I think you’d make a great mother. And if you’re scared about raising a child alone without the security of a husband, then, of course, I’ll marry you. In fact, I want to start a life together as soon as possible.’

‘Joon...’

The softest whisper contains the proposal that should have every woman squealing with joy but does not trigger such a reaction now, for once agreeing with Reason it is too far a leap to make regardless of Time. ‘Marry me.’

‘No.’ A shake of the head closes the topic, determined in the refusal of what causes a joyous spark despite the need to hold on to the denial of being tied down while being in the prime of youth. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I don’t want to in the near future. Someday. On a good day in a far future we could, but, right at this point in my life, I can’t for various reasons.’

‘Such as what?’ The sharpness of the inquiry in combination with the fierce unforgiving look makes the hold on fingers that much scarier when it slightly painfully tightens, only refraining from retreating due to knowing for a fact the silver wolf would never actually hurt a harmless koala bear past an actually damaging boundary. ‘Give me one good reason why it isn’t possible.’

‘University, living at home, financial instability, wanting to see more of the world before being tied down. Do you need me to go on?’ Despite the awful snarl which continues to show on full lips, sympathy and empathy manage to surface without letting the anxious sentiments about having crossed the limits preventing real hurt shine through. All the while, the powerful grip on digits is endeavoured to be ignored, the grimace tried to be suppressed as a convincing stream of speech is conjured. ‘Please, try to understand I’m in a different period of my life than you. That’s not to say I don’t want you with me, because I do, but there are factors that make me think it’s perhaps for the better if we keep our relationship as it is now.’

‘I could search an apartment for the two of us, simply say to your father there is room for an extra person to move in. I can pay for the rent or mortgage until you start to earn a bit more, after your studies. I think it’d be good for you, for us to move out and find a home of our own. And you can still travel across the globe, either with or without me.’ A melancholic grin comes forth from the hideous earlier expression, the light squeeze weakening the force with which hands are held greatly to a comfortable level. ‘Though, I’d rather have us together when you do, of course. Just to make sure nobody can harm you. That there is somebody to care for you if you get sick or anything else happens.’

‘Namjoon, as much as I like the idea, I also need space of my own every now and then. It just so happens I can find it when journeying by myself or locking myself away in my room for a while.’ Lips pout in trembling hesitance at seeing desperate begging mix with wishful longing, instilling a chastising sense urging to rapidly make this right before the wrong message is conveyed. ‘For me, those are the best methods to calm my mind aside from being with you.’

A slight brightening in attitude, some of the wantonness flowing over in purposeful determination, seeing an opportunity to put in a decision-making argument. ‘But if being with me also-’

‘It doesn’t always work, Joon. And it won’t always now that we’re in a relationship. Sometimes safe havens can’t provide the rest we need. I simply need time alone every now and again, you know that.’ A bright smile closes the topic, or at least hopes to do so with a final statement. ‘I’m nineteen bordering on twenty, perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m a big girl.’

A hand frees itself to cover the snigger at the determined utterance before trusted eyes gain the dark shadow that also had befallen them in the cloister. A signal the wrong answer has been given and the subject is not done with. ‘You’re adorable, Y/N, but you’re my baby girl. And there is at least certainly one thing only I can take care of when you’re acting all cutesy like that, almost forcing me to give it to you before anyone else can right in this very spot.’

‘And what might that be?’ An eyebrow raises in defiant challenge, but thighs clench together underneath the table and cheeks colour a bright crimson with the knowledge presented in mental images.

To keep the perverse conversation from being heard by outside ears, the bear turned wolf again lowers the baritone voice to a hypnotizing yet dangerous purring, amused by the apparent effect dominance has over inherently subjective prey. ‘You know exactly what I mean. You gagged on it earlier, wishing I forced it in somewhere else and pumped it full, bred you until you’re nothing more than a whining leaking mess.’ A teasing lip bite evokes an awkward wobble, suddenly needy with the craving for what, indeed, only the merciless poet can and is allowed to provide. ‘I can smell you from here, baby, creaming your panties. Finish your coffee. We’re going home.’

[lil-creatorwritings]

Summer Festival [Lancelot Kingsley]

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Pairing: Lancelot Kingsley x Reader Word Count: 1303 words to make you enjoy natsu matsuri~ Warning: NSFW. Of course lol. A/N: The conversation for this was honestly innocent when we started talking about kimonos and all. And then my brain had a idea, and thus this was born. Calling out @flawedandimperfectangel , @ricercaminah , @becauseitsgreen , @alloveroliver (for the first time, it’s not your fault that I wrote this!!! loljk love you) and @lokiiwood ; here ya guys go! Modern AU because phones and I have to make them live in Japan. Also, don’t judge me for writing a summer themed fic during winter lol.

--

Summer night festivals have become a yearly tradition for me. I walked down the street with my neighbor who just happened to also attend the celebration by the nearby shrine with her boyfriend. We were both dressed in a yukata, a traditional outfit during these events. I could hear the loud laughter and cheer of the vendors as we rounded the corner, the festival lights lighting up the way. I bid my friend goodbye as I fished my phone from the front pocket of my clothes, standing by the side of the stairs.

Me (8:48pm): I’m here by the entrance. Where are you?

It hadn’t been a minute until I received a response.

Lance (8:48pm): Just with Harr and Sirius. I’ll come fetch you.

I tucked my phone back, clutching my wallet close to me. The summer breeze blew by as several kids ran past me, making me step back to keep from getting bulldozed over. My back hit someone else and I spun around hastily. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry!”

Looking up, I saw a pair of blue eyes staring back at me. It was Lancelot, and I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a stranger. He wore his casual clothes, composed of a red shirt and black pants. The lights from the festival made his hair glow, almost as if he had a halo on him.

He looked at me silently and I tilted my head. Was my outfit strange? I suddenly got conscious--I was in a simple red and gold yukata, decorated with pink peonies, my obi having a similar palette. Completing the look, I swept my hair to a side, holding it in place with a simple flower hair ornament. I’ve worn simpler versions in the past years, but I wanted to dress up a bit more for my boyfriend this time.

Lancelot spoke softly. “It suits you well. You look beautiful.”

My cheeks flushed as he offered his hand out to me. I placed my own on his and he gripped it securely, pulling me to his side as he tangled our fingers together. We made our way up the short stairs as I looked around, deciding which stall I wanted to go to first. “What about Harr and Sirius? Are they coming with us?”

“They’ll be meeting with their own lovers soon, so I’m not worried about them.”

I knew that the three of them always spend the festivals together and knowing that bit of information made me less guilty for asking him to spend it with me. I looked up at him, noticing the relaxed expression on his face as we walked to a food stall to grab something to eat. I managed to not burn my tongue over the freshly served takoyaki as Lance quietly eats up his yakisoba, tapping him on the shoulder to share a piece with him.

Afterwards, we spent a good amount of time going around the other stalls. Several children were gathered around the tub of water filled with goldfish, trying to catch one with their poi. I failed miserably at the ring toss, while Lancelot managed to win a box of cookies from the shooting booth.

“I honestly think you could’ve won the big teddy bear.”

He shrugged, giving me a small smile. “I missed the last target. Besides, I would’ve just given it to you if I won it.”

I laughed, linking my arm around his as we continued to stroll along the shrine walkway. Instead of mixing with the crowd by the temple, he led me to a different path, one that led beside the grounds. The way up was well lit with the soft light of the lanterns, the bamboo trees standing tall around us. We eventually reached a clearing, figuring that we were almost behind the temple. I looked at my boyfriend in wonder. “How did you know about this?”

“We always come here to watch the fireworks. The view isn’t always clear, but we can still get a good watch.” He smiled, motioning me to sit beside him on the nearby bench.

The silence between us was comfortable as we waited for the signal. Resting my head on his shoulder, I snuggled up closer to him. “Thanks for spending tonight with me.”

“You make it sound as if I wouldn’t want to.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” I responded, fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. “I know you always spend time with the two of them, and I just thought maybe you wanted to spend this year with them too instead o--”

I got cut off as Lancelot pressed his lips against mine. The contact surprised me but I immediately responded, kissing him back. He moved to deepen the kiss, cupping my cheek to angle my head. He pulled away first, resting his forehead on mine. I heard a faint sound of a drum in the distance.

“I love you, and I’ll always want to spend time with you.” He murmured, a gentle pitch to his voice. “Never ever think otherwise.”

I nodded, believing him. I closed my eyes as we kissed again, the fireworks going off in the distance. His kisses were more loving and passionate, filling me with warmth and happiness. Kissing him back with as much emotion and earnest was the only way I could let him know that I felt the same way.

It took me awhile to register that his hand had been resting on my thigh. I shivered in anticipation of what he was thinking, until I remembered where we were, pulling back. “Lance…”

“Shh. You’re fine.” Whispering, his hand slipped under my yukata, fingers caressing my inner thigh. I moaned as I felt his fingertip slide over my slit, teasing me with light touches. My hand gripped his shirt as I adjusted to slide my legs open, just enough for him to cup my sex. The lights were the farthest thing on my mind as his fingers pushed my panties aside, hearing him groan over the wet heat he found.

Fingertips found my clit first, rubbing circles around it as my hips jerked up, asking for more friction. Lancelot’s mouth trailed kisses down my neck, lingering at the base to nip and suck at the skin. I couldn’t help the gasp that fell from my lips as I felt two of his fingers slip inside my pussy.

The fireworks were going on in front of us, but I could barely register them happening. My skin felt hot, his mouth on them sending me little shivers throughout my body. Lancelot didn’t stop there--he nudged a portion of my yukata off, exposing my shoulder. His lips made their mark on the new found territory as his fingers thrusted at a pace, gradually speeding them up while his thumb flicked over my nub. The pressure built up inside me as my hand clenched on his clothes, my cunt pulsing and spasming around his digits.

I couldn’t stop the moan I let out as my orgasm washed over me, my back hitting the wood for support. He didn’t lose speed as his fingers drew it out, prolonging my pleasure as I shut my eyes, sparks dancing behind my eyelids. Lancelot paid close attention to me, eventually stopping before taking his fingers out gently, bringing them to his mouth for a taste.

“G-Geez..” I managed to breathed out, my voice hoarse from his ministrations.

He gave me a grin before planting a kiss on my cheek. “Watching you was more satisfying than the fireworks show.”

I blushed red, smacking him on his arm as I hid my face in his shoulder. He laughed softly, bringing me in for a hug as we listened to the last of the fireworks before coming down to enjoy the closing of the festival.

[larasati98-blog]

KNB217 Digital Creatures Assignment 1

By Yosephine Vania Devi Larasati | n10129251

For this assignment, I decided to choose Jack from the folktale of a magic beanstalk. Since this is a well-known story for decades, I find it easier to identify the character and setting played in the story.

Jack and the Magic Beanstalk

Jack and the Magic Beanstalk is an English fairy tale. According to Joseph Jacob’s version (1890), this story revolves around the adventure of Jack, a boy living on a farm with his poor widowed mother. One day, his mother asked Jack to go to the market and sell their only cow there, since they run out of money to buy some food. In the market, thoughtless Jack met an old butcher that offered him a magic seed in exchange for his cow. Instead of selling it for some coins, Jack tempted to trade his cow for the seed. Knowing that Jack brought home a seed instead of money, his mother was angry and threw the seed outside. However, the bean grew overnight into a giant beanstalk where there is a castle upon it. Excited, Jack climbed the stalk to find the castle on the top and it was filled with magical animals and instrument which belong to a giant living in it. Realising that he needs goods to sell, he stole a magical hen that lays golden eggs and magical harp that can talk. Unfortunately, the harp began to scream for help and surprised the giant. The giant chased down Jack until he almost reached the ground, but Jack started chopping down the stalk that also crushed and killed the giant. The overall story takes place during the renaissance. The setting happened in the farm, market and a gigantic castle built for giants.

Jack

Jack is often described as a young man that is always taking advantage of any opportunities provided to him. The folktale also shows that he lives in desperation since he and his mother lived in constant poverty. From my personal view, I would describe Jack as a naive and reckless young man, yet caring about his family’s needs. Jack is very spontaneous, innocent, and easily tricked by an old man into trading his cow with what the man called it a magical seed. Not forgetting the fact that he is a farmer, he has a diligent personality.

Jack is physically skinny, due to living in poverty for a long time. He is a tall boy and his body barely shows any muscle, like a twig, I would describe. He weights very light that allows him to sneak into a castle without waking up the giant. His clothes are very simple and comfortable to wear for farming but seem quite dirty from going to the field often. Also, the clothes seem old since those are old clothes from his late father.

In summary, the characteristic of Jack is divided into two:

Personality traits:

Innocent and naive

Spontaneous

Somewhat stubborn

Taking for granted

Soft-hearted and devoted to his family

Physical characteristic:

Tall and skinny

Pale skin with noticeable sunburns

Extremely light

Round face (as he is still young)

Wearing old farming clothes that are lightly covered by dirt

Mood board

First thing, I gathered references based on style and body type that is relevant to the story. I love the idea of loose clothes with a belt that exaggerates his thin figure. However, since it is a low poly character, the clothes might be harder to animate the flow.

Experiment Drawing

After that, I began to draw the character concept based on the mood board. The first picture shows the characters line up consist of Jack, his mother, and the Giant. I love making a character comparison at first, so I know what will differentiate Jack among all of the characters.

Here is I draw rough sketches of Jack. From first glance, he looks like a scarecrow, which I found very interesting. I continued to explore his look by combining shapes.

I tried to combine shapes of circle, square, and triangle. I decided to use many circles for his head to show youth. Later on, I prefer a round shape for the eyes and the nose that emphasise his innocence, friendliness, and soft, while I was still playing around with the shape of the body.

Rough Silhouette

I narrowed down to 5 silhouettes that I find appealing and easier to create in low-poly.

Final decision, I found this very simple yet appealing. Just from the silhouette, this character seems clumsy and soft. I will develop this rough silhouette into a more unique character.

During the renaissance era, men were mostly wearing linen tunic that is belted at the waist and tight legging (Central Coast Renaissance Festival, 2019). The tunic was worn as an undergarment beneath outer clothes, such as cloak by upper class (Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1998).

I tried to modify the clothing a little, such as cutting short the bottom part of the tunic. This makes Jack looks slender and gives clarity to his body shape. Creating a character turnaround sheet is not something new to me, yet still challenging no matter how many times I have done it. Especially, in a three-quarter view. Also, I am giving Jack a slightly crooked back.

Medieval and renaissance tunic (Larp Inn, 2019).

As for the colour palette reference, I am using a colour wheel and chose to use complementary colours with earth tones. Here, I combined blue and orange as well as adjusted the saturation to bring the two colours together.

Colour wheel sample (Lynton, 2018).

Coloured character turnaround

The image below here is used for reference in the modelling process. The character is drawn from the front, right, and topside view.

Modelling Process

The video below here shows the quick video of modelling the character from a cube.

Due to insufficient storage, I screen captured some stages after the recording. These are where I learned my mistakes.

1. Arm Twisting

I did not pay attention to the anatomy of the muscle. So I had to remake the arm and make a twist.

2. Face Topology

Modelling mouth and nose with the right loop pattern is complicated for me. I followed several other tutorial videos on the internet and other people’s work as a reference. Other challenges include modelling the face to look appealing while maintaining the polygons count to keep it under 1000, for example, changing the hairstyle to be much simpler than the original design.

Overall, I did not find any problems with the UV map process, everything went smoothly. Until I painted the model using Substance Painter. Painting hair surprisingly became the most difficult thing. I mostly do realistic style rather than stylised, so it took a while for me to get accustomed to the painting process. I mostly used polygon fill feature in Substance Painter at first, then added more details(dirt, and collar) using brush.

Rigging Process

First time using Advanced Skeleton 5, many things happened in the process. There are a few steps that I have to repeat until the model can move properly. One of them is the eyeballs that are stuck with the head model and won’t rotate by themselves. Resolved it by fixing the connection between the joint and the geometry. Another problem I had was the knees bend backwards. Turned out that my model’s legs were slightly bending backwards and Advanced Skeleton automatically generated inverted knees.

Animation Test

Final Render

Jack by yosephine98 on Sketchfab

In summary, I am satisfied with the design of the character. Even though the execution of building the 3D model does not meet my expectation. There are many things I have to fix in my model. In the future, I am excited to build another model with better design and 3D model.

References

Central Coast Renaissance Festival. (2019, May 24). How did people dress in renaissance England. Central Coast Renaissance Festival. https://ccrenfaire.com/how-did-people-dress-in-renaissance-england/

Jacobs, J. (2003). Jack and the beanstalk. English Fairy Tales. http://www.authorama.com/english-fairy-tales-15.html

Larp Inn (2019). Guy Tunic. Larp Inn. https://www.larpinn.co.uk/guy-tunic-brown-p-6496.html

Lynton, J. (2018, 29 May). Close to my heart color wheel [Image]. Make it from your heart. https://blog.closetomyheart.com/2018/05/29/color-theory-double-complementary-color-schemes/

The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. (1998). Tunic. Encyclopaedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/tunic-clothing

[marvelandponder]

Look How Far We’ve Come

Welcome to Year of the Pony’s second regular series (aside from the editorials), The Elements of MLP! Every month, we’ll be looking at one aspect of Friendship is Magic in some degree of depth to explore all the different parts that go together to make MLP what it is.

Part of the reason I started this year-long event was to get to the bottom of why I love this show so much, so maybe looking it piece by piece will help me appreciate the whole better.

This month, we’ve got the Element of Design and Animation, one of my personal favourites.

And, I’m not alone! So let’s go through the whole gosh darn process (or at least as many stages as I’ve got something to say on)!

Design

In the beginning, there was Lauren Faust.

If you only know one name from behind-the-scenes, it’s Lauren Faust. As MLP:FIM’s creator, she lead a lot of the development that made the show what it is visually (and in other areas, too, of course).

So, yes, Faust had an immeasurable influence on the design choices. And, because of her genuine love for My Little Pony as a kid, so did previous generations of MLP.

Figures that AJ would be the one to change the least during development (never change, AJ), but here they are: The old school Mane 6! As you probably know, all based on characters from the franchise’s history!

You’ll notice that even though the colours themselves varied, the pastel colour-scheme overall was there from the start, and it’s largely because of the franchise's roots in the 80s. 

*Correction: Silver Rain on EQD pointed out to me that the cartoon commonly thought of as G2, My Little Pony Tales, is actually still G1. There is no G2 cartoon (generations are defined by new sets of the toys, not the cartoons or feature films, so even though Pony Tales is very distinct from the first two movies, it’s still G1)

The closest thing to a G2 anything besides the toys is a video game, but for this analysis I decided to keep it strictly to television and movies. So, enjoy knowing G2 is a lie!

See how the first two generations looked a bit washed out? And the next two are sort of over-saturated? In addition to looking cleaner because digital animation v.s. traditional (neither is better), G4 strikes a balance between the different colour-palettes of the franchise in a really comforting, visually satisfying way.

Soothing is probably the best word, which expertly matches the breezy, light-hearted, and loving tone of the show.

So, anyway, even after development went on, as changes were made, notes were taken, and the world we’ve come to know took shape, the show’s roots still have a surprisingly big influence on its visuals.

And my god, can we all take a second to appreciate these designs?

Every element---from characters, to creatures, to backgrounds, to that storybook thing they keep doing---make this show a visual treat. For several reasons:

Cute - the ponies are round; there are very few sharp points in their designs and that combined with the classic big eyes + cute tum + small nose and mouth = cute, makes them even freaking cuter 

Instantly Recognizable - there’s a rule popularized by Simpsons creator Matt Groening that if you can recognize a character in silhouette, that’s a good design; even besides the fact that they’re ponies and you could tell them apart from human characters, there’s absolutely no doubt who’s who---I could even name the side characters if you tested me

Conveying Personality - You can tell most character’s personalities from the minute they walk on screen---take Starlight Glimmer, for instance; the first shot we see of her, she’s got kind of a 60s hairstyle, so before she even opens her mouth, you can guess she’s either got some old-fashioned ideas, or more accurately, she’s in charge of this weirdly cheery village (ever watch, well, pretty much anything from the 60s? Those fake smiles in Starlight’s village would fit right at home); her false-belief of what will make ponies truly happy is reflected in her design, and not only that, she used to have straight bangs to instantly cue to the viewer that this is a character who’s going to parallel Twilight (especially when she’s screaming about ‘creating Harmony’...)

Simplistic - Most of these designs use thick outlines and soft colours to emphasize just how cute the horses are; in relation to the backgrounds and other creatures, they easily draw the eye because the other elements are more detailed but very rarely have outlines.

Asymmetry - You’d think it would be more satisfying to an audience to see characters with symmetrical designs, but not so, and this is reflected in every single character design in the show (as well as most building designs: the Golden Oaks Library, Canterlot Castle, Cloudsdale, etc.); even Twilight, who’s bangs are cut straight across (according to the EQG universe), has a curve to her mane, highlights to the left, and a small part on one side

All of these aspects and probably more give all the designs a strong visual impact, while also making them cute as heck.

I don’t think I can say it better than this: these designs are so sweet, distinctive, and inviting that the fandom latched onto and created entire backstories and personas out of background characters. It’s like Bobba-Fett from the Star Wars franchise---in reality, he’s barely in the films, but because he managed to grab so many people’s attention with his surprisingly memorable design, he’s one of the most popular characters!

And, you know, I’m not going to lie to you. Part of the reason this show is so comforting to watch is just the soft colours and incredibly cute characters. It really is just soothing to look at. But there’s more to the visuals than just cute, pretty ponies.

Movement

One of the things I remember hearing back when I first came into the fandom in early season 2 was that some fans were downright shocked that MLP was animated in Flash--- a program so cheap and hard to animate in fluidly that most shows and projects that come out of it tend to look ... shoddy.

Which isn’t always the case, of course, good shows have been animated there, but I would say that, on the whole, shows animated in Flash seem to have great designs but less focus on fluid movement. 

Like, even if you’re not an animation nerd, if I list a bunch of shows you animated with Flash, you might notice a kind of a pattern in how they move (of the ones you know):

Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends

Johnny Test

Total Drama Island

Hi! Hi! Puffy Ami Yumi

Yin Yang Yo!

Kappa Mickey

Dan V.s.

Archer

The Gravity Falls pilot (the rest of the show was animated in ToonBoom Harmony, the same animation program My Little Pony: The Movie is being animated in!)

It’s a hard quality to describe for me, but the absolute best example probably is the Gravity Falls pilot:

See how everything looks exceedingly flat (even for 2D animation)? And how each movement tends to have this weird, unnecessary (for lack of a better word) pop to it?

That’s what Flash is known for. 

I’d like to take a second to say it of course doesn’t make all of those shows bad at all; and in fact, there are a number of shows besides MLP that actually use Flash well (to the point that you wouldn’t know it’s animated in Flash).

Bob’s Burgers, Archer, Sym-Bionic Titan, The Amazing World of Gumball, even Fairly Odd Parents as of the 10th season.

I think it’s mostly just the fact that at the time we didn’t know many shows that could look this good and still use Flash. 

The exciting thing is that MLP doesn’t move like that. Season 1 had its moments of animation flubs, sure, but I’ve re-watched it recently and it is animated pretty well.

A lot of moments will have a snap for emphasis (like, the manes will move how they’re supposed to), but it’s handled in a natural way that doesn’t distract from the movements we’re actually supposed to focus on.

And, no, it’s not the most sophisticated, beautiful animation out there, but it can run the gambit from snappy comedic timing to slower, dramatic scenes.

I think the only problem I’ve really noticed with G4 animation is whenever characters run in Equestria Girls.

I know, that’s really specific. I don’t even have a problem when they walk, it’s just when they’re running that it looks the most like the cheap Flash animation. It’s a hard quality for me to describe, but rewatch a scene where they have to run at all, I’m serious. It’s almost a pet peeve at this point.

It’s a hazard of the genre, I suppose. Like most Western animation, MLP focuses most of its time and energy on expression and the smaller movements as opposed to big, involved battle sequences or choreographed action (the only big battle sequence is the Dragon Ball Z Tirek fight, which was done super well, but is still a rarity in this show).

Meaning, some of the most unique bits of animation come in the form of expressions and reactions. 

I always love these. Not for the meme potential (although... ), but because I know every time I see a face like that the animators went out of their way to make something distinct and insanely expressive. 

And that’s not the only way they bring the visuals together. I could probably go on and on about things like the shading and lighting, the staging, the intelligent use of background to hide gags or references or just add that much more depth to a scene...

But, seriously, I’ve already eaten up so much of your dash.

I will say this, though. Friendship is Magic’s style is more gorgeous, fitting, and creative than you might think at first. It’s why the artistic side of the community exploded, and still hasn’t stopped growing. And the continual improvement in this element alone is enough to get me excited for the next season. I’ll admit it, it’s one of the biggest reasons I always look forward to seeing more. 

Woo! That’s a wrap for this Elements of MLP, but I’ll have a new one for you every month this year! In the meantime, you can always check out the editorials, or, you know, whatever. I’m not gonna tell you how to live.

Year of the Pony

Header Image Only Possible Thanks to...

Elements by SpiritoftheWolf Elements by TechRainbow

Two really talented vector artists that were awesome enough to make this stuff! You’ll be seeing their names at least 12 times this year, so might as well check ‘em out now!

Pretty Pastel Ponies Practically Prancing ... Politely? Parallel? Perfectly?