#changed the ending a little bit by adding another scene

[mxtxfanatic]

It may seem like I skipped Chapt. 7, but I didn't. It's just that the chapter covered all of Hua Cheng's first appearance, and nothing was changed 😭 The minor chapt. 7 changes are:

The narration no longer lists specific reasons why the "mysterious youth" can't be the ghost bridegroom, nor does Xie Lian completely brush off his presence. Xie Lian wonders why the youth came to the bridal sedan if not because he was the ghost bridegroom before getting distracted by the shrine.

Xie Lian doesn't make any connection to General Pei and the ghost bridegroom at this time, just notes that it's weird that a god could be so well-off yet have a shrine disappeared and inhabited by an evil spirit in his own territory.

No extra details about Pei Ming's divine statue. Xie Lian notes that nothing's wrong with it and then beelines towards the corpses, following his sense of smell.

The part about the "strange sound" perhaps being the sound of something dragging is gone.

Chapt. 8—covering from the moment Xie Lian hides amongst the bride corpses to when Fu Yao demands to know the kind of silver butterflies Xie Lian saw, or the end of Chapt. 3 and into Chapt. 4 of the 7seas version—is when the edits pick back up in earnest again. Also as a sidenote: It has occured to me that those that have read tgcf through the official translation might not know who "the little bandit" refers to outside of context. The "little bandit" is "Xiao-Pengtou" in the 7seas version, which is just the pinyin of "little bandit" (not sure why 7seas stuck with the pinyin, as it's not like this is the character's name). Anyways, onwards!

Major changes: Anything to do with Xiao Ying or the bandaged teen is gone.

Minor changes:

The little bandit shouts at the crew to "find the living bride" (Xie Lian, who they hadn't realized wasn't a bride) instead of "find the freak ugly freak!" Another change brought about by Lang Ying's deletion.

The little bandit attempting to "calm the bride" is gone. The sequence skips from the little bandit telling them to "find the bride" to Xie Lian calling Fu Yao and Nan Feng to his side. They still are taken aback by his makeup, but the part about them having to be coaxed into coming around is gone. An extra paragraph is added, however, where the gang of men whisper about Xie Lian after realizing he's a man, and their words and stares make him break out in goosebumps.

Xie Lian doesn't have them split up. He tells them both to watch the shrine area. The little bandit doesn't shout that no one should listen to Xie Lian when told no one could leave; the whole gang grumbles and are subsequently silenced by Nan Feng. Xie Lian then politely explains the situation and asks them to check their group, rather than the little bandit being the one to suggest the idea.

Xiao Ying isn't discovered amidst the group.

Fu Yao and Nan Feng don't verbally discuss whether or not the ghost groom is possessing somebody. This whole thought process is entirely Xie Lian's inner monologue.

The bit where Xiao Ying (who hasn't appeared yet) is questioned is gone. The bit where Fu Yao and Nan Feng are questioned about their hesitancy around Xie Lian in drag is gone. The part about the gang whispering happened earlier.

Xie Lian telling Nan Feng how strange the presence of a Mingguang Shrine is, is cut after he asks why the people worship Nanyang in Ming Guang's territory. The rest of this explanation is still in the text, just as exposition rather than dialogue.

Xie Lian doesn't ask to borrow spiritual energy. The scene cuts to one of the men shouting about the number of brides.

Fu Yao doesn't say "let them be" when they run into the shrine. He says "if they want to court death, why block them," now.

The little bandit isn't initially alarmed at the revelation of the bride corpses, just tells the men to start grabbing to take them down in order to extort their families.

No corpse groping happens. Because Xiao Ying hasn't appeared by this point in the scene, Xie Lian goes through with kicking the little bandit to the ground the moment he attempts to grope one of the bride corpses (tell me I'm wrong for wanting this kid dead, I dare you).

The part about saying someone is "approaching" a new level—reference being Fu Yao saying that the Green Lantern is "approaching" supreme level—is an embarrassment is made into exposition in the final, rather than it being Xie Lian's direct thoughts like in the draft. But the part where Xie Lian talks about how the "mystery youth" broke the maze array is now said verbally rather than in his thoughts.*

There is now an addition to this scene where both Fu Yao and Nan Feng agree that the mysterious youth can't be the green ghost because the green ghost has low standards and no etiquette, which Xie Lian points out that it must be true if both of them agree with each other willingly and without argument.

*Small note: this has also been turned into a pun didn't exist in the original draft.

TGCF Draft vs. Final: A Ghost Marries a Crown Prince on a Bridal Sedan

First off, ignore that "chapter change," it is the same chapter title in Mandarin as the 7seas release's "The Ghost Takes a Bride, the Crown Prince Mounts the Bridal Sedan." I'm just personally working through the why's of how I'm getting a different translation of this and haven't yet changed it. The chapter title for 7seas' chapt. 2 is completely gone; it skips from "the third ascension" to "the ghost takes a bride..." This newly categorized segment of chapters in the final version covers content in chapters 1-3 of the 7seas release, the first chapter starting from the "three days later" and ending on the Xianle trio finding the little shrine to the Earth God/local god.

Major changes:

The only major change in this chapter is the scene where the Xianle trio come across the small shrine. In the draft version, the trio find the shrine to ask the local god for directions. The god comes out, is cowed by the brilliance of "Fu Yao" and "Nan Feng," directs them to the nearest big shrine, and disappears. In the final version, they only coincidentally stumble across the broken-down shrine, and the local god never appears. Instead, Xie Lian digs out a steamed bun from his robes to give as an offering, prays to the god for protection, and when asked by Fu Yao why he's "wasting his time" praying to a god that seems to have been long-abandoned, Xie Lian says,

“话不能这么说，对我来说是一个馒头的事，但是对人家而言可能很重要呢……诶诶诶，干嘛拉我。” "To me, it’s one steamed bun’s affair, but as far as everyone else is concerned, maybe it is very important…"

He is summarily dragged away by the other two with Fu Yao admonishing him about how it's "not important" and how Xie Lian should worry about his own lack of worshipers before praying to others.

Minor changes:

The tea master doesn't look at the bridal procession as it passes.

Xie Lian says "hello" to the silver butterfly.

When Nan Feng and Fu Yao introduce themselves, Xie Lian tells them he wasn't asking for their names instead of just thinking it.

Fu Yao is no longer obsessively wiping his fingers with a handkerchief, though he still ignores the tea Xie Lian pours for him. Also, it's stated that Xie Lian is the one who poured them tea, rather than tea just appearing in front of them, and Nan Feng thanks him, politely, for it.

The paragraph about how intelligent the two are is replaced with Xie Lian analyzing their characters, saying that Nan Feng is more cooperative than Fu Yao despite Nan Feng having the more explosive temper while Fu Yao appears "refined."

The part about Xie Lian going towards the forest to camp is deleted. He suggests they find somewhere to stay, and they just start walking on the road until the reach the tiny shrine.

Small note that I may revisit when I've read deeper into the revisions, but all mentions of what Ling Wen's palace does is gone. We don't get an explanation of her role, Xie Lian doesn't say he got the scroll from her (even though he does), the efficiency of her palace's work is omitted, etc. I don't know why this change was made, but yeah, as of now there's no explanation of what, exactly, Ling Wen does in the heavens.

[kiszjuli]

YOU WIN .ᐟ

✸ varsity!jaemin x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c. 2.1k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which jaemin has been pining after you and makes you a deal. if he wins the valentine’s day basketball game, you have to go out with him. you agreed, but you knew you didn’t like him like that. at least that’s what’s you’ve been telling yourself.

↳ playlist. pov - ariana grande. universe (let’s play ball) - nct dream. i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys call me baby - exo. talk saxy - riize. adore you - harry styles.

the large, crowed gym boomed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished floors and the faint echo of chatter and commentary bouncing off the walls. valentine’s day was tomorrow, and with it came the school’s annual basketball game—a game everyone seemed to love, whether it was purely for the game itself, or the romance that seemed to come with it. for you, though, it was just another day behind the camera, documenting the campus chaos for the yearbook.

through your camera, you’d captured just about everything this year: pep rallies, club meetings, quiet moments in the library, and even pictures of people doing the simplest things. and of course, na jaemin. somehow, he was everywhere. whether he was on the court, joking with friends, or flashing a charming grin at you, jaemin had an uncanny ability to find your camera—and you hated how often you found yourself keeping the photos he was in.

you’d spent the last semester convincing yourself it didn’t mean anything. he was just one of the many faces in the crowd, one of the players you documented out of habit. but jaemin thought very different.

about a week ago, he’d found you crouched on the sidelines during practice. you fiddled with your lens, as he walks up and proposed his idea to you. “if i win the valentine’s day game,” he’d said, leaning casually against the bleachers, and looking down at you, “you have to go out with me.”

at that, you almost dropped your camera. “what?”

“come on, pretty girl, you heard me.” his grin had been infuriating, as always. before you could think to respond, he added, “i’m. a deal’s a deal.”

“and if you don’t?” you piped.

"i don't always win, but i promise you i will this time.” he responded with a confident tone.

the idea was ridiculous. you clearly didn’t even like jaemin like that—or at least, that’s what you’d been trying to convince yourself of.

although you found your heart beating a little quicker when he was around, eyes lighting up a bit when he walked in the same room, laughing slightly harder at his jokes-it was all meaningless. right?

so, motivated by your persistence to prove your subconscious wrong, you’d agreed and now, as the stands filled quickly with students, and your camera in your lap, you glanced around not being able to shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to end you you expected.

—

despite yourself, because of the infectious crowd, you felt the pre-game thrill in your chest. you adjusted some things on your camera, getting it ready for when you needed it. aiming it in front of you you changed some of the setting, while looking through the lens. then you had noticed that he was directly in the middle; staring your way. you lowered the camera, looking at him straight on. that stupid smirk and casually spun a basketball in his middle finger. show off. his coach called the team for a quick team talk, and of course he didn’t leave without throwing a wink at you.

you fought the urge to roll your eyes but couldn’t deny the small flutter you felt in your stomach.

the gym fell to a hush as the referee walked to the middle of the court, the basketball in hand. both teams on either of his sides, waiting in anticipation. you got your camera ready for the shot, eyes trained on the scene in front of you, but you felt the weight of someone else’s gaze.

jaemin.

he stood at the center, opposite the other team’s strongest member, his attitude relaxed but ready. something about his calm and confident demeanor told you that he already knew how the game would end. like he was playing with certainty, and not hope.

seconds later, the whistle blew, the ball was thrown into the air.

jaemin reacted instantly, leaping towards it. his body stretched effortlessly to the ball, fingers grazing it first—the perfect tip-off. just like that the gym erupted in cheers and the game begun.

from behind the camera, you followed the motions of the players. shoes squeaked against the polished wood, the sharp bounce of the ball echoed through the gym. jaemin was moving like he was made for this, weaving through players with an ease. his focus was intense, completely imo in the game, but every now and then his eyes would flicker to you.

they were subtle glances, quick enough that no else would would have caught it. but you did, and he knew that.

and you hated that your stomach flipped every time it happened.

—

later in the game, halfway into the second quarter, jaemin caught a pass near the three-point line, and without hesitation, he launched the ball toward the hoop. The form was perfect, the kind of shot that sent the crowd to their feet before it even touched the net. and of course, you got the perfect picture of him in action, feet lifted at least a foot off the ground.

the cheers that followed were deafening. jaemin didn’t celebrate, he didn’t even look surprised. he just turned on his heels and jogged back to defense with that same cocky smirk, and looked directly at you.

you lowered your camera, heartbeat hammering against your ribs.

—

the fourth quarter had rolled around, and the gym was like a madhouse. the scoreboard glowing with mirrored numbers. 76-76. the game had been the kind that had the entire crowd on the edge of their seats constantly. every dribble, every pass, every shoot felt like it carried the weight of the entire game. and at the center of it all—na jaemin.

but he was also exhausted. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his hair. his cheeks were flushed, and his chest heaved.

the rest of the team was just as worn out, struggling to keep up as the opposing team tried to pushed harder, desperate to steal the lead. jaemin had been their anchor, but the slight lag in his step was noticeable.

and yet, every time he looked up at the stands to you, there was still that unwavering determination. almost as if it pushed him harder; to keep his drive high.

you weren’t sure how long you had been holding your breath when the game reached the final full minute. the rival team had the ball, moving with quick, calculated passes, trying to run down the clock. the team knew what they were aiming for—a last-second shot, the buzzer-beater that would end it all.

jaemin wasn’t about to let that happen.

in a fraction of a second, he darted forward, intercepting a pass with a speed that seemed impossible given how drained he had to be by now. the crowd gasped, watching with intense focus, defenders right on his heels. you didn’t even realize you were standing until your knees bumped against the scorer’s table, camera still clutched tightly in your hands.

the timer was ticking down—

ten seconds left.

he crossed the three-point line. his teammates shouted, signaling for a pass, but he didn’t even glance their way, focused on his own play.

seven seconds.

an opposing player lunged at him, trying to block him. failing, jaemin spun around him, keeping the ball in his possession.

four seconds.

he took the shot running out of time.

the ball left his fingertips, spiraling toward the hoop just as the final buzzer blared through the gym.

time seemed to slow, everyone’s heads following the ball.

the ball traced the rim once—twice—before finally sinking through the net.

the gym erupted with cheers and yells and claps.

the student section stormed the court, screams of victory bouncing off the walls. the team tackled jaemin in celebration, hands ruffling his hair, hitting him on the back, yelling his name.

but jaemin wasn’t paying attention to them.

his eyes were locked on yours, with an ‘i told you so’ look.

and you knew.

this wasn’t just a win, it was his win.

and you were his prize.

—

jaemin had done it. he’d won the game, meaning he’d also won the bet.

as you sat at the bottom of the bleachers, still surrounded but the buzzing nature of the gym, you weren’t sure scared you more—the fact that he actually pulled it off, or the fact that you secretly wanted him to.

but before you could process it any further, a familiar figure broke through the heavy crowd.

jaemin. hot, sweaty, completely breathless.

his jersey clung to his skin, strands of damp hair falling over his forehead, cheeks flushed even more. his eyes were sharp, focused and locked onto you. he didn’t stop until he was right in front of you

your breath caught in your throat.

jaemin tilted his head, a breathless grin tugging at his lips. “so…” he ran a hand through his damp hair, the pieces falling right back. his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. “about our little deal.”

you swallowed hard.

your mind scrambled trying to find an excuse, something to get out of this, but every word died before it could reach your tongue. the truth was, no matter how much you had tried to convince yourself otherwise, you wanted this. wanted him.

jaemin must have noticed the mix of hesitation in your expression because his smirk widened, a teasing glint in his eyes. he leaned in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of sweat and cologne, his voice dropping to something softer, more dangerous.

“you’re not gonna back out on me, are you, pretty girl?”

something about the way he said it, made your breath hitch. the way he looked at you. like he already knew he had won more than the game and bet. you couldn’t form a proper response.

“uh..”

jaemin let out a quiet chuckle, gaze flickering to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “guess that means i’ll pick you up at seven.”

and just like that he turned around back to the court, leaving you standing there with your racing heart.

oh, you were screwed.

—

you weren’t nervous, definitely not.

at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you checked your reflection for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. it wasn’t even a real date. just the result of a stupid bet.

and yet, here you were, doing your last touches.

a sharp knock on your dorm door made you jolt, heart leaping into your throat. you took a deep breath before opening it, only to find jaemin leaning casually against the frame, looking criminally hot.

his sweaty jersey and damp hair from earlier was gone, now replaced in a white tee, covered by a black jean jacket and matched black jeans. his usual charm fully present. his cologne was soft but warm, dangerously enticing. and they way he had that signature smirk, he knew exactly what you were thinking.

jaemin’s eyes raked over you, picking out every detail. he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “damn,” he leaned in. little. “if i knew you’d clean up this nice, i would’ve made the bet a long time ago,”

you rolled your eyes trying to ignore the quickened pace of your heart. “are you gonna flirt all night or are we gonna leave?”

he chuckled, stepping from the doorframe, gesturing his arm out of the building. “both. definitely both.”

with a dramatic sigh, you stepped out and locked the door behind you. as you followed him to his car, you realized something—this felt like a real date. nothing forced, not awkward, not something you were being dragged into. interesting.

—

jaemin ended up taking you to a tucked away, late-night café, the kind with dim lighting and cozy booths. it was quieter than you expected, more intimate, which he probably planned.

as soon as you sat down in the booth, jaemin leaned forward, eyes fixed on you with that same infuriating smirk. “so, be honest,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “how long have you been secretly in love with me?”

his words caught you off guard. “excuse me?”

he grinned. “i mean, you did agree to this pretty quickly.”

you scoffed. “it was a bet.”

“sure.” he nodded slowly, like he wasn’t the one who came up with it. “and yet, here you are. looking beautiful, by the way,”

you rolled your eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “do you flirt with everyone like this?”

jaemin tilted his head, pretending to think. “only you.”

your stomach flipped, but you forced yourself to glare. “unbelievable.”

he laughed, leaning back. “better get used to it, pretty girl. you’re my valentine this year,” ‘and hopefully forever’ he thought to himself.

you smiled shaking your head.

the worst part? you weren’t even mad about it. in fact, you couldn’t form see yourself going out with him more than just tonight. maybe you did harbor some feelings for na jaemin after all..

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

[gf2bellamy]

vest — aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: hotch helps you with your vest content warnings: mention of an unsub holding a hostage , mention of guns , mention of snipers a/n: hotch in a fbi vest <3 hope you guys enjoy this !!

You sat in the SUV for a moment, gathering your thoughts as you watched the flurry of activity outside. Police cars were scattered across the street, their lights painting the scene in sharp flashes of red and blue. Officers stood with their guns raised, their focus locked on a house at the end of the block. 

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the vehicle, following Derek Morgan as he strode toward the rest of the team.

This wasn’t your first case with the BAU, but you were still new enough to feel a little out of place. You’d learned quickly that there wasn’t much time for hesitation in this line of work, and standing on the sidelines didn’t help anyone. 

The unsub was holed up inside the house, refusing to come out, with a hostage trapped inside. Every second felt critical as the team discussed their plan. 

“Snipers are in position, but we don’t have a clean shot,” Emily said, her tone clipped and professional. 

“There’s only one way in and out,” Rossi added, nodding toward the front of the house. “If we breach, we need to control the situation immediately before he hurts the hostage.” 

You stood quietly at the edge of the group, listening intently but not speaking up. You weren’t sure if your input was expected yet, and you didn’t want to risk saying something that wasn’t helpful. 

Then Hotch’s voice cut through the discussion, calm and authoritative as always. “I’m going in.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and before you could process them, his dark eyes shifted toward you. 

“You’re coming with me,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

You froze, caught completely off guard. “Me?” you asked, your voice betraying your surprise. 

“Yes,” Hotch replied, already moving toward the house without waiting for further questions. “You’ve studied his profile. I need you in there.” 

You swallowed hard. The weight of the moment pressed down on you—this wasn’t a training exercise or a simple debrief. This was real, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. 

You walked back to the SUV, the cool night air doing little to calm the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Opening the door, you grabbed your bulletproof vest and slammed the door shut.

Your hands trembled as you fumbled with the vest, trying to slip it on and tighten the straps. You cursed softly under your breath, annoyed at yourself for not being able to steady your movements. 

“Do you need help?” 

The deep, steady voice startled you, and you turned quickly to see Hotch standing just a step away. His face was calm, unreadable as always, but there was a faint softness in his gaze that caught you off guard. 

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. Without another word, Hotch gestured for you to turn around with a light touch on your arm.

You swallowed hard as you turned, your back to him now. The faint pressure of his fingers lingered against your arm, and you felt your heart pick up its pace. You cursed yourself silently.

Hotch’s hands moved with precision as he adjusted the straps of your vest. His knuckles brushed lightly against your sides as he tightened the straps, and you couldn’t help the nervous flutter that rose in your chest. 

“Follow my lead,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. His breath was warm against the back of your neck, and you felt heat rising to your face. 

He finished securing the vest, his hands lingering just a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back. “And stay close to me,” he added, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

You turned around slowly, meeting his eyes. His expression hadn’t changed—calm, stoic—but there was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel just a tiny bit less terrified. 

“You’ll do okay,” he said simply, his voice firm but not unkind. 

For a moment, the chaos around you seemed to fade. You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to appear confident.

Hotch gave a single nod before turning, his focus already shifting back to the task at hand. But as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of his hands on your vest—or the way he’d looked at you.

[actuallyprobablyafaerie]

list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3

Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK

Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just

GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT

annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve

ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed

uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………

When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH

the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way

like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too

ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff

i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there

all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end

ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good

When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy

them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me

when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that

also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance

also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that

I AM IMPERTINENT

Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those

but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways

10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.

[johnpriceslamb]

— 𝓙𝓐𝓝𝓤𝓐𝓡𝓨

You are to be wedded by the end of the year. Upon travelling, you’re met with a group of pesky bandits.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 : age gap . fem ! reader . afab ! reader . hyper feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned to be physically smaller than chars mentioned in story . reader is in early 20’s . arthur is in late 20’s - early 30’s . fighting scenes . gore . traditional gender stereotypes heavily mentioned .

At the end of the year, you’ll be married off to a man.

Someone strong, handsome, clever, and gentle in heart. You hope.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for a woman.”

Your corset is tightened by your nanny from behind. The tightness of it makes your breath hitch slightly, hands curling up unconsciously.

In the late winters of 1892, the rolling plains of Lemoyne were no match for nobility. You were dragged along by daddy who was on a grand tour in the west, despite not being keen on the idea. He insisted on seeing the rails and trains he invested in, so you didn’t have much of a choice other than to tag along.

She ushers you to stand up so she could fit the petticoat around your hips. The bands of the voluptuous under-skirt were stretched, allowing you to titter in the large hole and shape your figure again. You’re thankful that it’s a lightweight cotton fabric, considering that all the other layers you adorned added a bit more unnecessary weight to your small frame. Then comes the underskirt, adding another layer of volume and structure.

“If a man stares at you, avoid direct eye contact by using the fan your grandmother has gifted you.” She instructs, remembering the lessons your governess taught you. Her frail hands place the soft, silk evening bodice over your tightened corset. A beautiful little thing which accentuated your curves even more so, kissed with ribbons and flares below the piece.

The burning wood which crackled near the fireplace left a smell around the changing room which you longed for. You’ll be leaving in just a few more minutes, having to face the harsh winter storms outside. You wonder to yourself if the amount of beauty products delicately touched on your face was really worth it, considering that the weather outside will most likely dishevel it. And of course, you’ll be spending most of the day travelling by carriage.

Finally, the skirt. The main part of your outfit. Nanny brushes off the remaining particles on the skirt with her wrinkled hands. You couldn’t help but admire the beautiful little thing, pleated with satin which ended with small bows. She repeats the steps like for the other underskirts, stretching the band, allowing you to step in, and lifting it up to shape your figure.

Upon the stool you sat, you squirm uncomfortably because of the amount of layers you had to wear. She notices, and kisses her tongue.

“A woman should not squirm uncontrollably in their seat.” She hisses, lightly tapping your hands with a ruler as a way to discipline you. “Repeat what I have said.”

A sigh escapes your tinted lips. You hold out your hands.

“Marriage is the ultimate goal for women,” You repeat, “I must not stare back at a man and avoid direct eye contact.”

“Why must you not stare back at a man?” She asks.

You hesitate. The ruler comes down to your skin and places a stinging kiss. You hiss at the pain.

“B-because—” Another hit.

“No stuttering.”

You take a shaky breath, enduring the soft whimper which begs to escape from the bottom of your throat, “Because returning a man’s gaze could interpret as an invitation or a sign of interest.”

“What must you do if they stare?”

“Avoid eye contact by using my grandmothers’ fan.”

“Good.” She nods her head in approval. You place your hands neatly on your lap, looking down to avoid eye contact.

You’re ready to leave as soon as she ties the delicate satin bonnet on your head, ensuring that your face is covered with enough shade provided by the head piece. With the helping hands of the maids in daddy’s manor, all of your luggage was carried to the boot of the carriage. You bid your goodbyes to a few of your selected favourite maids, lightly kissing their cheeks before tittering away.

As soon as you walked outside, you knew that the cold winters of ‘92 would affect you much more than you’d expect. Suddenly, you appreciate the amount of layers you adorned. You could hardly feel the cold winds blowing even if you stuck your head outside the carriage’s openings.

The old man who drives the carriage around hops out of that tall seat in front to open the door and lend a hand for you to enter in. Upon entering in, you can see that there was a small lit candle; your only source of warmth.

You feel really glad for all of the layers.

You vaguely remember daddy boasting about all of the railroads built all over this part of America. ‘The Central Union Railroad’, a camp made up by working men who were in charge of building all railroads— daddy owned that camp. Some parts of you feel grateful for being raised in wealth and comfort, while the remaining parts felt guilty for seeing others having to slave away just to get ends meet.

You’re not convinced that all the men in that camp were capable of working. You’ve seen a good litter of youths labouring here and there. You pitied them greatly but alas: you were a woman. The most you could do was provide them more food rations and safety gear.

But as time slowly passed by, you’ve noticed the laws overseeing the amount of child labour happening in businesses. Daddy wasn’t too happy seeing a slight decline of workers in his company, nevertheless it did make your lips curl up a bit.

You’re not particularly interested in watching the railroads daddy invests and funded in, only because your thoughts immediately go back to the amount of workers that barely get payed to slave away in building these roads.

On the other hand, it was also how you’re able to sleep in a large manor everyday.

The roads slowly turned more bumpy and rough when leaving Lemoyne territory. You’re quite surprised that your carriage hasn’t been robbed considering the amount of warnings of raiders being littered across this part of territory. Your beady eyes boredly peer out of the windows of the carriage, watching the distant white-tipped evergreen trees pass by.

There wasn’t much to do other than watch nature unfold or perhaps pester the driver. You’d rather the former since you don’t even know the drivers name.

You can still feel the stings from that stupid ruler your nanny punished you with. They catch onto the fabric, which makes you twitch a bit at the abrupt pain. The more bumpier the road was, the more it caught on.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve left home. If you remembered correctly, you’d be arriving to a town somewhere in Chicago. You peak out to the driver up front, politely asking him what the time was. You left during the early hours of the morning, and you could see the sun rise much more.

His warm, honey-dew tipped voice replies back with a frail ‘9 in the morning’. Just a few more hours until they reach to Chicago. Maybe even another day is to be filled with travelling.

You can’t help but sigh, “Could we take a break and rest somewhere in a few hours time?”

The old man hums, “We may, if that is what you wish.”

You smile sweetly. Of course, being told no was quite foreign to you. “Thank you kindly.”

You rest back onto the velvety cushions, heaving out another deep sigh. You look out of the openings again, and for the first time in a few months you lay eyes upon a long stretch of natural snowy land. It’s a vast difference between the usual scenery you’d see back in Lemoyne. There was no puffs of dark grey smoke in the sky, the heavy scent of engines and oil running wasn’t to be smelt, the bellowing of officers directing a crowd, no city life around.

Sometimes you’d see a few run-down stables with a few animals. Other times you’d just see landmarks with just the never-ending cold covering in it. On one occasion around noon, you saw a dead animal with its bones protruding out. Your nose scrunches up at the sight before looking away to the other opening of the carriage. Not much of a difference in scenery.

You tinker your lashes out of boredom, now playing with the satin-tipped bows on your bodice. The travel becomes much slower and difficult because of the amount of snow which catches onto the wheels of the carriage. It’s excruciatingly difficult to be entertained in these types of situations, considering that you left your novels back at home. You scoot back to the front seat of the carriage, peaking out to the man who lead the vehicle.

“May we please take a stop over there?” You ask with a shy smile, gesturing towards the small town from afar. You wonder if there’s any pastry stores nearby. The last time you ate was a few hours ago, a bowl of porridge and a few thin slices of bread. The man acknowledges your polite request with a gruff.

There’s been a bit of a food problem because of the cold winter, more snow meant less crops being able to grow and lesser animals being produced. You’ve been stuck on porridge and bread for a while now, and you’re hoping that it’ll change.

Once the driver stopped near the town, you’re greeted with the wind yet again. You unconsciously curl inward to protect yourself from the cold, peering at the people who lived in this little area. It’s humble, isolated, quiet.

Cold. Too cold.

You take a few steps, the bottoms of your shoes caked with snow. The man beside you takes ahold of your arm in case of any danger which falls upon you. He coughs a bit when the air hits his lungs. You pity him, asking if he needed a hot cup of tea or anything of the sorts to get him to warm up again.

His old eyes light up at the mention of tea.

“You mustn’t fret over me, my lady.” He whispers lowly.

“I insist.”

He takes a slow breath before sighing. “ If you must.”

Another pause to take a deep breath, “Your attitude is nothing like your father’s.”

You quirk a brow, “Pardon?”

He grabs onto your arm for support, mindlessly dawdling. “It’s a shame that you’ll be married off soon. When you see potential candidates during this trip, take a look at his attributes rather than his looks.”

What?

You tilt your head, “I thought this trip was a tour around the West.”

He grunts slightly, flinching a bit. “Perhaps I’ve spoken too much.”

Before you utter out another word of disbelief, you’re met with a click of a gun.

“Another step from either one of ye’,” A hoarse voice from behind grumbles like a predator, “One of yer head’s gon’ be rollin’.”

You’ve never been in situations like these before. Your nerves are getting to you. A soft sob escapes from your mouth as the tip of the gun threatens to puncture the back of your head. Your hands are immediately up in defence, beady eyes staring back at the frail man who could not do anything but mimic your actions.

You croak, “Please, sir. We don’t have anything valuable for you—”

Many more of them pop up. As if a litter of ants come and pour, the man behind scoffs before kicking your knees to buckle and kneel on the floor.

“Bullshit,” He snarls, “Look at what yer wearing. Pretty lil’ thing like ye’ ought to have somethin’ hidin’ under that skirt of yers.”

“What do we do with this one, boss?” One of them knocks the nozzle of his gun into the old man’s head. An old wail of pain escapes him, and your eyes water even more as you helplessly look around.

“Get rid of ‘em.”

“Wait, please! Don’t harm him! He hasn’t done anything wrong!” You sob, trying to reach out for him— only to be held back by these bandits, “No- stop, stop!”

The man who holds you back cackles, mocking your high-pitched pleas and sobs. The old man is knocked out with another blow to the head with the end of the bandit’s gun. You could see the back of his head starting to bleed.

“I’m telling you, a pretty girl like ‘er would sell real well in the markets.”

“How much do you think we could make?”

Another tug on your bodice gets you to raggedly gasp. Before your eyes peer to the Heavens above and beg for mercy, bullets from afar ring past and alert the others. You can hear gallops of multiple horses coming your way, and a heap of other outlaws.

“Shit, ‘s the Van Der Linde Gang!” The leader of the group- who currently holds you captive in his arms, yells at his group to gun them down. A bullet zooms past and catches onto his shoulder which allows you wiggle away and squirm to hide.

With the remaining strength you had, you drag the driver’s unconscious body with you and behind a barrel. He’s cold, everything is cold, you’re cold.

He’s dead.

The impact of the gun’s end must of cracked his skull. Tears pour down your beauty-tinted face, mustering up quiet prayers for him. Bullets are the only thing you can hear, accompanied with loud bellows and curses.

You have never in your life witnessed anything like this before.

You peak from the barrel, watching the man who gunned your driver down drops dead to the floor from one bullet which hits his head. Another array of shots are fired, and soon enough the litter of bandits are all gone.

Your ears perk when you hear them converse lowly, “Who the hell were those guys?”

“I don’t know, son. John, you ‘n Bill find supplies ‘round this town. Rob, steal, or be law abiding citizens— I don’t care. Just get as much as you can.”

You stifle a soft sob at the rowdiness. The man who was recently talking hears your soft whimper, before sauntering over to where you were located and crouched down in front of you.

“Arthur,” He seems to be calling for one of his men. He looks like he was born from wealth like you were. His clothes are tinted with jewellery and his vest looked like red velvet fur, “Come over here ‘n escort this girl!”

He lends you a hand. He sees the hesitation in those eyes of yours which lead him to a more softer approach.

When his eyes focus onto your face, he squints. He sizes you up and down quickly, the clothing you adorned clearly catching his attention. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Your small hands are held firmly by his as he hoists you up. Burdened with trauma and shock, you could only hear him murmur soft words of encouragement. You see a younger man strolling towards him, only for him to blink in surprise when seeing you.

There was something about him which sparked your interest greatly.

He scratches at his light stubble, barely visible yet. His breath seemed to hitch at the first sight of you.

“Can she talk?”

The other man who holds you closely scoffs, “‘Course she can. She’s just shocked.”

“Huh. Okay. What do we do with her?”

The man looks at you, “Hm. What’s your name, miss?”

You sniffle a bit, shakily replying with a meek babble of your name.

“Lovely to meet you, my dear. Dutch. Dutch Van Der Linde.” He squeezes your shoulder a bit, “Where were you last heading to before.. all of this?”

“Ch— Chicago,” You stutter, either from the cold or from the scene which unfolded beneath your very eyes.

“Damn.. That’s a long way away.” The man who eyed you with interest mumbles, not taking his kind eyes away from you.

You stare back of course.

Some sort of spark in you flared up.

He could feel it too.

“We ought to take her back to camp. She doesn’t seem like she’s in good condition.” Dutch makes you step forward out to Arthur, who grabs you and hoists you in his arms and to his horse, a soft grumble of annoyance escaping his lips, before murmuring a low ‘up you go, girl.’

“When she’s settled enough, we’ll ride ‘er to Chicago. We’re headin’ north aren’t we?”

“Indeed we are.”

“Not much of a problem, then.”

You needily paw at him before he could settle you on the large saddle of his horse, “W-wait but my luggages..”

He quirks a brow at you, “What about it?”

You meekly look around, stammering. “I need it. ‘s— ‘s important, I just—”

He cuts you off, “Where is it?”

You gesture to the carriage from afar. You watch his built figure stroll down thataway to retrieve them. You’re still surprised that the bandits from earlier didn’t manage to spot it. But nevertheless, you profusely thanked him before he left to go grab it from the boot.

You watch Dutch’s other men grab your old driver’s body and sling it on the back of their horse, probably to bury it somewhere. You deeply thank them in your mind, only for a chuckle to interrupt your thoughts.

“The boy’s smitten, Hosea! Look at ‘im,” The man who found you nudged an older looking man’s shoulder, pointing to his bulky figure which held onto your absurdly large luggages, “Never did that with any of the other men we saved. Didn’t even protest when I said that we’re bringing her back to camp.”

Dutch titters to you with that beautiful stallion of his. You couldn’t help but envy at how gorgeous that mane was. You remember back home your horses were used for training and educating rather than for show. “You’ll be staying with us for a while until we can get you on your feet again.”

You slowly nod, sniffling a bit. You rub your arms for comfort, hoping that they won’t do anything funny to you, “Th—thank you..”

Hosea— if you recalled, only looked at you with eyes as warm as the fireplace back home. He pitied you too, but in a sense that wasn’t belittling like how Dutch pitied you.

Arthur grunts as he heaves the luggages on the back of his horse, securing it with some rope to not make it fall. He mounts from the left and settles behind you, before kicking his spurs gently which makes his horse start walking in a slow pace.

A comforting hand is placed on your shoulder. He leans in a bit and murmurs, “You’re safe with us.”

You wonder if your family would condemn you for riding with a man you're not acquainted with.

You also wonder if they'd punish you by ostracism if they caught you riding with a group of outlaws.

The loud thunks of the horse's feet galloping through the snow was a sound you've heard before but not from this close. Usually, you're situated in a carriage with a dim light and windows, and then the horse at the front. You could listen to the soft tittering of the horses from inside. When you're walking down the street with your brother, you could also hear the horses gaits on carriages pass by.

The thick, southern drawl of an accent is also another thing you can hear. A vast difference between the usual whisper of educated, middle class accents within the streets. The men who rescued you are quietly conversing between one another. You're curious, but you feel as though your eyes will close as soon as you try to bother.

The young outlaw behind you catches onto your sleepy behaviour, a low wisp of that southern drawl is heard yet again but far more closely.

"Y'alright, miss?"

You stiffen a quiet sniffle. You want to go back home. But then again, you're glad that you aren't back home. You miss the feeling of comfort, the soft yet creaky beds, the dim chandelier which radiated such a warm light. A rush of emotion comes over your demure figure, and you can't help that sniffle which is emits through the cold air.

You don't answer. The silence is what confirmed his question. Your sniffles, more-so.

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, before gently pulling your form back to his broad chest. A quiet sign that you were welcome to take a little rest on him for the rest of the ride.

You sniffle once more, before a murmur of a little 'thank you' is etched out of your dry throat. You flutter those long lashes of yours shut, before taking a snooze on him.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Why You Should Try Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Part 8: Fun and Easy Character Creation

This is part 8 of a multi-part series of posts about the awesome features of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, in no particular order.

Find the earlier parts here:

Part 1 Link: We Worked Hard on It!

Part 2 Link: It's Easy to Learn!

Part 3 Link: It's Easy to GM!

Part 4 Link: It's Easy to GM and Supports Narrative and Roleplay!

Part 5 Link: It Revolutionizes Investigation and Mystery Solving in TTRPGs

Part 6 Link: PCs are Not Just Mystery Solving Automatons

Part 7 Link: Excellent Time-Keeping Mechanics Keep the Pressure On

I talked about Skills in previous parts, and here we will go more in-depth into them, as well as other awesome things that make up a Eureka character.

Skills

As mentioned before, Eureka characters have an all-purpose array of 21 Skills meant to cover just about anything they’re likely to encounter while trying to solve a mystery, with a rating that tells you how good or bad they are at each of these skills. You don’t roll for skill points, nor do you get a set amount of them to distribute. The only rules are that each skill must be set to a rating between -3 and +3, and at the end, they all have to add up to a net 0. This means that for every +3(making them an expert at that skill), they have to have a -3 somewhere else, or three -1s, etc. This can make character creation a little bit like a puzzle, where you slowly uncover just who your PC is as you move their skills around to add up to 0, while still giving you complete control over their strengths and weaknesses.

There are also additional “Write-In” skills, which are more specialized. You can also write in your own skills as Write-In skills if none of the official ones suit your PC. Any Write-In skill has to be set to +1 or higher, and counts for the total.

Traits

In addition to skills, Eureka characters are made up of Traits. These are literally personality traits that have a mechanical effect on that PC’s gameplay, further supporting roleplay. Each PC has 3 Traits by default, but additional Traits, up to 6 total, can be added at the cost of extending how many Investigation Points it costs them to get a Eureka! Point.

Traits can radically change how the PC plays, and of course help define their personality by encouraging and discouraging certain behaviors through bonuses and penalties. Many Traits also provide additional ways of spending Eureka! Points.

Here’s a few examples and a link to a big masterpost of Traits, though at the time of writing this there’s even more Traits than the masterpost shows. You’ll have to download the Eureka rulebook to see them all. (It's linked at the top of this post.)

Truth

A PC’s “Truth” is another mechanic that really fleshes them out in gameplay. It is one of more extra little elements of their personality. It could be a motto they live by, their short temper, their overly trusting nature, etc. The only rule is that it has to be something that would be likely to spur them to action or get them into trouble. Once per Scene, when they say or do something that is in line with their Truth, they gain a +1 bonus to their next 5 skill checks. This keeps your characters acting in-character, and rewards it.

Inventory and Wealth

You might have noticed that "Wealth" is a skill. In short, this skill is rolled when PCs buy something, or when they need to know something about high-society. (It can also be reversed when they need to know things about lower class environments.)

Another thing that Wealth governs is the PC’s inventory items.

Inventory items are determined on a per-scenario basis by rolling for how many Wealth Points can be spent on items before the scenario starts. You’ll get your investigator a house (or equivalent), a vehicle, and whatever else they can afford. Having the right item for the job can save lives, but powerful weapons, fast cars, comfortable homes, etc. can get expensive quick. Just like in real life, rich people generally have an easier time of things, but some of the best moments in our own campaigns have come from PCs struggling with money.

(You also fill out the PC’s Tiers of Fear in character creation but I already talked about that in Part 6.)

[shaunashipman]

here is the colouring tutorial i promised to go with my beginner's gifmaking tutorial.

to save image space, i've written up a simple explanation of how each adjustment layer works here, so i'm just going to over my colouring for these 4 different gifs.

as always, very image heavy underneath

there are many ways to get the same results and i'll use various methods usually just based on what i'm feeling at the moment. some of it is a little convoluted, but hopefully this will give you a rounded idea of how it all works so you feel more comfortable playing around with your own colouring

NADJA

this is the base gif with zero colouring adjustments, just resized and sharpened.

unless the base gif is already very bright, which doesn't often happen because directors nowadays are allergic to light, the first layer i add is always a brightness/contrast layer. i don't adjust any of the sliders, i just change the blending mode to "screen", and then adjust the opacity if needed. this gif was pretty dark, so i left it at 100%,

my next layers are always curves to even out the white and blacks. i use two curves layers, one for white and one for black. i used the white drop-picker and selected just below the lightshade on the lamp behind her, and for the black drop-picker i selected her hair near her neck which gives us this

it's already looking much better, it's not as green tinted, but i want to make the red of her dress pop a bit more. in order to do that without making her face too red, i'm gonna remove some of the yellow. so next i'm gonna add a selective colour layer, and under the yellow channel i moved the yellow slider to -5 and the black slider to -52. now

now that the yellow is reduced, i add another selective layer, and under the red i move the cyan slider to -66 and the black slider to +29. now the red of her dress pops and her face is still a realistic tone. when i first made the gif, i added the red selective layer first, then added another selective layer under it and adjusted the yellows to offset it. you can always shift layers around or add a new layer underneath as you go.

voila

TOMMY

here is our base gif

this scene is better lit than the nadja one, but i prefer bright and colourful gifs, so i'm gonna once again add a brightness/contrast level and keep it at 100%

and then the curves layers to even it all out. since there isn't a spot that is immediately noticeable as white, you can hold the alt button with the white dropper selected and it will highlight all the white/very near white pixels. you can also zoom real close in to select specific pixels. i selected a from the white area around his chin/mouth. the same process works for finding a black spot with the black dropper, and for that i selected from a dark spot in his hair

the curves layers evened it out but also made the gif a bit more red and warm toned, and since i've decided i want the end result to be more blue/green, so i'm gonna add a colour balance layer. in the shadows channel i moved the cyan/red slider to -16, and the yellow/blue slider to +11

now the gif already looks great, it's bright, skin tone is accurate, he's not washed out, but like i said i like my gifs colourful, so i'm gonna add two more selective colour layers. in the first i'm gonna adjust the greens, bringing the magenta slider to -87, and the black slider to +81. in the second layer i'm gonna adjust both the blues and cyans, because when you see blue in a gif it's rarely ever straight blue or straight cyan, so always adjust both. (you could adjust the blue and green in the same layer, but i prefer to do them separately in case i need to move the layers around)

now finally i'm gonna add a hue/saturation layer because i think the blue of his suit is too blue when the sky behind him is more cyan. (also, since you only have 256 different colours to work with, you don't want too many different colours otherwise it will distort the colouring.) in the blue channel i move the hue slider to -12 to make the blue a bit more cyan, and i also move the saturation to +38 to make it pop more

and voila

RHAENYRA

here is the base gif (this one is going to get very convoluted and imo best exemplifies what colouring gifs is like most of the time)

as always, a brightening layer set to screen

now the curves layers. for the white i clicked on her hair at the top of her head, and for the black i i clicked in the shadows to the left of her.

but as you can see, while it added contrast, it also made the gif more green tinted than it was. you could click around more, or manually adjust the red, green, and blue lines on the curves until it looks better but i decided to add a channel mixer layer instead. in the green channel i set the greens to -95, and in the blue channel i set the blue to -97

next i wanted to add a little contrast, but i find that using the contrast in brightness/contrast can saturate it too much, so instead i added a levels layer. first i adjusted the bottom bar, moving the right slider to 230 which reduces the overall brightness of the gif, so when i adjust the top bar it doesn't brighten the gif too much. on the top bar, i moved the right slider to 212, and the left slider to 9

now, i'd like it to be not exactly warm toned, but less cool, and while i could use colour balance or a photo filter, i'm instead going to add a gradient map, using the default gradient pink 08, and setting it to blend mode soft light at 50% opacity

next i just want to increase the blacks a little, so i'm gonna add a selective colour layer and under black i'm gonna set the black slider to +10

it's still not as warm as i'd like, so i'm gonna add a colour balance layer, in the midtones setting the cyan/red to +10 and the yellow/blue to -5

we're almost done, but i want to make her dress pop a bit more, so first i'm gonna add another selective colour to bring the yellows down a bit, setting the black slider to -15

and finally one more selective colour layer, in the reds, setting the cyan slider to -50, the yellow slider to +10, and the black slider to +15

voila

NATALIE

here's the base gif

as always the brightness/contrast layer set the screen

now the curves layer. for the white, i zoomed in and selected a pixel on her cheek under her right eye. for the black i the dark spot just above her head

now she's very yellow, so i added a channel mixer layer. in the red channel i set the reds to +88. in the blue channel i set the reds to +10

she's still a little too yellow for my liking, so i'm gonna add a hue/saturation layer, and under the yellows i'm gonna adjust the saturation to -60

finally, i want her to be a it brighter, so i'm gonna add another curves layer, but instead of using the drop, i'm going to manually adjust it. the two points along the line are where i selected it and then i dragged until it looked how i wanted. i start with the upper dot, which made it brighter and moved the line into an arch, and then selected at the lower end of the line and dragged in back closer to centre to add some darkness and contrast

voila

and that's how i do my colouring. it's generally all trial and error, using a layer to fix one thing and then needing another layer to fix something the previous layer did.

play around, have fun, see what works for you and what doesn't. it will take a while for you to develop your own method and style, and even then you'll come across scenes that make you question if you have any sills at all. you do, directors just hate us

have fun and feel free to ask any questions

[reccyls]

Chaotic Night - Warned by the Reaper on Halloween Night (Victor Story)

My translation of Victor's halloween event story

--

(It's quiet...)

Almost as if the party we just held had been a lie, Crown castle was bathed in silence. Wary of the effects of ingesting extract from the Queen of the Night flower, everyone had said they would confine themselves in their rooms. However...

(It's such a beautiful night tonight, I had hoped I could spend it with someone.)

Feeling a little peckish, I had returned to the kitchen and grabbed an ornamental pumpkin filled with candy. Now I was walking around the garden, when I spotted the figure of a person standing there.

(Is that an intruder...!?)

Suspecting that someone had snuck into the castle, I reached for the gun I kept strapped to my thigh. And that was when the figure turned around--

Victor: Kate?

Kate: Victor...?

The mysterious figure turned out to be Victor after all, but...

(He has a mask and gloves on... Is that a Halloween costume?)

His black outfit seemed like a costume, but even so, I couldn't rid myself of a sense of uneasiness.

Victor: ...What are you doing here?

His sudden question brought my attention back to him.

Kate: I was a little hungry, so I went to get some sweets from the kitchen. Kate: I saw you from a distance and I thought you were someone suspicious, sorry.

Victor: No need to apologize.

I continued to look at him, unsure of why I was feeling such discomfort.

Victor: But, well... Victor: Perhaps for now, I am one.

He averted his gaze, and I couldn't help but feel confused.

(That's right, Victor also drank the extract, didn't he?)

As I thought back to the events of the party, more and more questions bubbled to the surface.

(Victor is cursed, isn't he?) (It's more likely than not that he is, considering he's a part of Crown. But I have no idea what his curse is.) (He won't tell me a single thing.)

I've known him for quite some time, but he's still an enigma.

Victor: On Halloween night, walking alone in the castle is more dangerous than walking around town, you know.

Just as I was about to walk towards him, who had not taken a single step closer, I noticed the withered flowers.

(Huh...?)

The flowers around Victor had all withered unnaturally, dried leaves lay scattered at his feet.

(But just this morning they were blooming.)

As I took a step to approach the odd scene...

Victor: You must not come any closer.

His strong, solemn command stopped me in my tracks.

Kate: Victor?

The expression on his face was more serious than anything I had ever seen before, adding to the gravity of his words.

Victor: Turn around, head straight to your room, and lock the door. Victor: No matter who comes knocking on your door, do not leave your room until dawn.

Startled by his stark words, I took a step back, but--

Kate: Ah-

I dropped the pumpkin I was carrying, where it rolled to a stop at Victor's feet. He reached down to pick it up, and the moment his fingers brushed it--

Kate: What...?

Even through his glove, the pumpkin instantly started to change color, to rot, and shrivel away. Just like all the flowers around him.

(What just... happened...)

Unable to make a single sound, I met his eyes.

Victor: I could end your life with a single touch.

Kate: !

Victor: If you don't want to die, leave this place now.

Wracked with a terrible fear, I took a step back. And another. But, as the distance between us grew, his expression morphed to one of painful sorrow.

Victor: Just like that. I... I don't want to kill you.

I bit my lower lip. No longer able to bear it, I stopped.

Kate: --tomorrow!

Victor: What?

Kate: Tomorrow, can we have tea together?

His eyes were wide and confused, and I gave him my biggest smile.

Kate: To make up for today. We couldn't enjoy tonight's party until the end, right? Kate: And...

(I still don't understand everything that's happening, and I'm still scared... But despite all that...)

Kate: I want to be with you.

Victor: ...

Kate: Staying at this distance... it's lonely. Kate: So tomorrow, when I come back, let me stay beside you.

I waited for a little while, but he didn't reply. So I ducked my head, and left. Guilty for being afraid, regretful of my ignorance.

(I still know nothing about Victor.)

I felt the sting of pain and sadness building at the back of my nose.

...........

(I couldn't sleep at all...)

I looked up upon hearing a knock at my door the next morning, and opened it. The maid standing there passed me a letter, and a decorative pumpkin.

Kate: Is this from yesterday...?

Reading the letter, I saw a polite apology from Victor, As well as an invitation for a leisurely tea time with Victor later this evening.

(Oh, thank goodness everything seems to be okay now.)

My relief lasted only for a moment, because the last line of the letter made my heart race.

Kate: "Of course, just the two of us."

(What kind of face should I make?)

Though the pain and sorrow still lingered, every time I saw him, my heart leapt with excitement and it was as if the colors of the world changed.

Kate: ...I want to see him as soon as possible.

Giddy with anticipation, I raced towards my closet.

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Apr. 2025) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

Hey there! I felt like it was time for another devlog, it's been a little longer than usual I think. I felt it was less of a priority since I'd just shown off a gameplay preview, so my deepest apologies to all 7 dedicated devlog readers...

First off, in case you missed it, Lucid Mode was shown off in a recent gameplay preview of Stir & Mix!

During stages, freestyling well enough on two consecutive lines will allow you to ascend into Lucid Mode, a state where there are no charts or suggestions to follow, just your own freestyles! Successfully completing the stage in Lucid will give you a special ending scene and an emblem on your rank as lasting proof of your success.

To answer a few questions about it I've seen floating around:

Q: Does this mean the other parts of the song are gone? A: No, going Lucid is something that only happens if you manage to activate it yourself. Otherwise, the song continues as normal.

Q: Can it be disabled? A: Yep, if you're like really good at freestyling but still don't wanna ascend into Lucid, there will be a toggle in the Options menu to enable/disable the ability for it to activate.

Q: Can this happen in every stage? A: Probably! That's the plan, unless I find a rare reason it wouldn't work well for one.

In the preview, you can also see that Stir & Mix itself has been updated a bit in the vocal and artwork departments! Compared to the 2023 beta version's vocals, 2cada tuned them with a bit more stylization this time. In terms of artwork, the animations were redone in my current art style, as another step towards a consistent art style by release. In the process, I was able to make the animations much more fluid and expressive!

Little fun fact about that, Jamtine's hair actually used to cover up more of her eyes/eyebrows as if they were bangs of some sort, but I eventually moved it out the way so I could have more freedom with her expressions, which I found important for a character like her. An inverse of that philosophy would be Nami, who has her sunglasses and bangs cover up her eyes/eyebrows to give her a more mysterious feel. It's hard to tell what's going on in Nami's head! (If anything at all!)

Now, let's talk about the gameplay and UI again. Here's a little quickfire of some changes I've made: 

The Next Line Tab has a "NEXT" text sign above it and will stay at the end of the Player's line to help with clarity

 The background bar of each line now adjusts to the line's length to also help with visual clarity

When points are gained or deducted, it now briefly flashes over the score counter instead of having a separate bubble

Holding the button on pow notes instead of tapping them will accumulate extra points until you either release it or reach the max amount. The more buttons you manage to hold at once, the more points you'll get!

Landing notes on the later end of a beat marker without being off-beat can count as swing rhythm, adding extra points.

To account for the new score system and its balancing, you won't need the Perfect Bonus to be eligible for an S-rank anymore

Overall, I'd say the new rhythm/scoring system is much more consistent, balanced, forgiving, and accurate to the game's inspirations compared to how it was in the beta demos.

As for future stuff I'm working on, I've been animating the Boss battle for Act 2. Not much I can really say about it atm, but the song's going for an electro-funk style. Pretty happy with how it's been turning out so far!

I've also been redesigning the stage select screen to be easier to navigate and easier for me add more stages and acts to it. This one's able to just pull the needed information from each song/act and arrange it all accordingly instead of me having to manually do it each time I add something. It's still very much a work in progress, but it's functional! I haven't gotten to drawing McWave's new icons yet... (Don't look too deep into the number of acts here btw, it just stops at 3 because that's as far as I've indexed it at the moment!)

I've also started working on a redesign for the results screen. Since the new scoring doesn't have equal spaces between the rank requirements, I decided to replace the linear rank meter with a more dial-like one that goes through a cycle per each rank threshold you pass. Along with it, I'll have to finally make new results screen animations for Melodii at some point. Not sure yet if the pose Melodii's doing in this concept sketch will be what I end up using, but I definitely will be letting them aura farm more.

To save the most boring for last, optimization. For the notes in stages, I've started using a method called "Object Pooling". (Which I actually hadn't heard of until recently.) Basically, note objects get recycled now when possible​ instead of created/destroyed, which helps reduce memory usage. For materials, I've managed to up performance by using Texture Arrays and a pretty convoluted shader trick where I put the vertices of UV layers at specific coordinates, which are then decoded to be used as material info. (e.g. color, spec, emission) That way, more meshes can share materials while looking different instead of loading in separate ones. Not really sure how common this is, as I couldn't find much info on it, but it seems to be working pretty well so far! I was also able to cut performance costs in some areas by taking a screenshot of a background model and having the game render a flat image instead of the entire model. This works pretty well for shots where large background models are far away or when the camera angle stays static.

That's all for now! As always, thanks for reading.

-LJ

[s1ut-4-rafe]

UNCHARTED TERRITORY | Rafe Cameron | 01

MASTERLIST (Series - In Progress)

Pairing - Rafe Cameron x Thorton! Reader

Summary - You’ve always been under the watchful eye of your older brother, Topper Thornton. But when your feelings for Rafe Cameron—Topper's best friend—begin to shift, everything changes. Rafe's presence is undeniable, pulling you in with a magnetic intensity, while Topper’s overprotectiveness grows stronger. As your connection with Rafe deepens, loyalty, forbidden attraction, and simmering emotions clash, leaving you caught between family ties and a love you can’t ignore.

Word Count - 2959

Content - 18+, smut, angst, forbidden romance, brothers best friend, friends to lovers, moments of aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence and usage of drugs

Navigation - | Part One | Part Two |

The warm sun hovered low over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of amber and pink as it began its slow descent into the sea. A soft breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean air and rustled the leaves of palm trees.

The beach was bathed in a golden glow, the sound of the waves gently breaking against the shore mixing with distant laughter and music from a nearby bonfire. This was the Outer Banks, where summer stretched on forever, where the days blurred into one another, and time seemed to slow down.

You leaned back against the sun-warmed sand, letting the heat seep into your skin, your feet buried in the coolness at the edge of the water. The sound of waves was soothing, calming, like the island itself was singing a lullaby for all its inhabitants.

Life here had always been easy, carefree, a rhythm you’d grown up with, one you knew well. There was something about the Outer Banks that always made you feel at peace, like you could breathe deeper here than anywhere else.

The laughter of your friends rang out, and you turned your head to catch sight of your fellow Kooks. They were sprawled out on the beach, a mix of loud, boisterous personalities, but their presence felt comforting. The soft chatter, the jokes, the easy camaraderie, it all made the days feel like they would never end.

You adjusted your sunglasses and leaned back, content to soak in the last bits of sun. Summer had become second nature to you, a time of endless adventure and ease.

For now, you were happy to be part of the familiar scene, just one of the group. You’d known these people for as long as you could remember, and even though the years had added a little more distance and complexity between the conversations, they still felt like home.

As you half-listened to your friends' conversation, your eyes drifted over to where Topper stood, leaning against the lifeguard tower, watching the group with a bemused smile.

Your older brother. The one person who had always been there, through every phase, every moment. Even now, when you were both older, there was no mistaking the bond you shared.

Topper had always been the protective older sibling, his presence constant in your life. But it wasn’t just about protection. It was a rhythm of familiarity; he knew you better than anyone else, and you knew him just as well. 

The way he’d throw an arm over your shoulder when he was in a good mood, or the way he’d tease you when he thought you were being too quiet. It wasn’t just family; it was a friendship that had grown over time.

Rafe Cameron wasn’t far behind, lounging on the sand with his back against the same lifeguard tower as Topper. He was a fixture in your life just as much as Topper had always been, there since forever. The three of you had spent countless summers together, and although the years had shifted things in some ways, it still felt like nothing could change the unspoken bond you all shared.

Rafe, with his wild grin and the way he could be serious one moment and completely reckless the next. The way his voice always carried an edge to it, like he knew something the rest of you didn’t. You’d never given much thought to how close the three of you were, but today, something felt different. Something in the air made your chest tighten for a second, but you shook it off as the wind whipped through your hair.

You looked back at Topper, who had glanced over at you, catching your eye for a brief moment. A flicker of concern passed over his face before he returned his attention to the others, and you rolled your eyes slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Classic Topper. Always looking out for you, even when you didn’t need it. You could tell he’d been watching the dynamic between you and Rafe all summer, but you weren’t sure what he saw.

There was always something about Rafe that pulled your attention, though. Always had been, even back when you were kids and you used to play in the sand together, before you’d grown older and things began to change. 

He was no longer just the guy who hung around because he was friends with Topper. There was something else now, something more. It made you wonder when it started, this shift in the way you saw him, the way he seemed to linger in your thoughts even when he wasn’t around. You hadn’t let yourself think too much about it, but now, as you caught his gaze across the beach, the tension was hard to ignore.

The evening wore on, and the sky deepened into purple, stars beginning to appear. As the last of your friends wandered off toward their cars, you stayed seated in the sand, feeling the cool evening breeze settle in around you. The laughter from the beach slowly died down, leaving behind only the soft rhythm of the waves and the occasional shuffle of someone’s footsteps.

Topper made his way over with a casual smile, running a hand through his sun-streaked hair. His usual confident stride carried the ease of someone who knew exactly where they belonged.

“Guess it’s just the three of us now,” he said, settling down beside you in the sand, stretching out his legs. Rafe followed behind, tossing a few loose items from the beach into a nearby bag before plopping down beside Topper.

Rafe gave a lazy grin, tilting his head back to look at the stars already starting to make their appearance in the dimming sky. "Perfect way to end the night," he said, voice soft but filled with that familiar carefree vibe that had always made him seem just a little bit untouchable.

You chuckled, leaning back on your hands, eyes scanning the horizon as the waves rolled in. “It’s definitely not the worst way to spend a summer evening.”

Topper laughed, nudging you with his elbow. “Can’t believe we’re still doing this. Feels like we’ve been hanging out here forever.”

"Some things never change," Rafe added with a smirk, tossing you a cold drink from the cooler beside him. "Except you," he added, looking at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You’re way too grown-up now." His grin was playful, but you could tell he was genuinely curious.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged into a grin as you accepted the drink. “I’m still the same,” you said, tossing it back lightly. But there was an undeniable sense that you weren’t quite the same, not anymore. Something had shifted, and you weren’t sure what it was or when it had happened.

You caught Rafe’s gaze for just a beat too long as he handed you the drink, his fingers brushing against yours with a soft, almost imperceptible touch.

The light flickered in his eyes, the kind of look that lingered, but only for a fraction of a second.

You quickly looked away, pretending like it didn’t affect you. “Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice coming out a little more strained than you intended, but you chalked it up to the coldness of the drink. You were being ridiculous.

Topper, oblivious to the brief moment between you and Rafe, let out a laugh. “You two should just get it over with and start a podcast already,” he said with a teasing wink, clearly referring to the endless banter the three of you had shared over the years.

Rafe snorted. “I’m down. I could teach her all kinds of things.”

You shot him a playfully annoyed look, rolling your eyes again. “Sure, ‘teach me,’” you muttered, though the words felt oddly heavier now than they used to. They used to roll off your tongue easily. 

Topper, completely unaware of the subtle shift, chuckled and clapped you on the back. “You guys are hopeless,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “We should probably get going, though. Mom’s gonna start wondering where we are, and I really don’t feel like dealing with her when we get home.”

You nodded, standing up and brushing the sand off your legs. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you said, trying to shake off the odd feeling that had settled over you. 

Rafe stood up, brushing sand off his shorts, his usual lazy grin still hanging on. “I’m gonna head home too,” he said, looking down at you for a moment, the light from the sunset catching in his eyes.

“You know where we live if you need anything. See you tomorrow?” Topper asked with a smile.

Rafe nodded, offering a quick, easy wave. “Yeah, I’ll catch you guys later.” His eyes lingered on you for just a second longer before he turned, heading down the beach toward the path leading back to his place.

It was just you and Topper again.

“Alright,” Topper said after a beat, glancing over at you. “Seriously, let’s go before mom calls for a search party.”

You stood up, brushing sand from your legs, and nodded. You hesitated for just a moment, watching the spot where Rafe had gone, then looked over at Topper. “Thanks for sticking around, even after all the others left.”

Topper smiled, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. “What are brothers for?”

With one last look at the now-quiet beach, the two of you started walking back, the last traces of sunset fading as you made your way toward home.

The ride home was filled with easy conversation, Topper talking about his weekend plans and other things you barely paid attention to. Your mind was elsewhere. On the way Rafe’s fingers had lingered. The way his gaze felt different. You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung stubbornly to the edges of your mind.

By the time you got home, your mom was in the kitchen, giving you both a knowing look. “You two always lose track of time when you’re together,” she sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it, just routine.

Topper smirked. “Wouldn’t be us if we didn’t.”

You offered a small smile before slipping away to your room, changing into something comfortable, and climbing into bed. You should have been exhausted, but instead, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, replaying the evening over and over.

It was nothing. It had to be.

But as your eyes fluttered shut, one thought lingered—what if it wasn’t?

The next morning, sunlight streamed through your bedroom window, casting golden streaks across the floor. You stretched, feeling the lingering drowsiness from the late night at the beach. The sound of waves in the distance mixed with the faint murmur of voices downstairs, your mother, probably already chatting with a colleague on the phone, and Topper, his tone casual but edged with something impatient.

Yawning, you pulled yourself out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. Cool water against your skin jolted you awake, but it didn’t quite shake the haze of last night. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if that alone could clear it. 

Downstairs, Topper was leaning against the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone. “Finally awake,” he teased, glancing up at you. “You coming out today? Some of us actually have plans.”

Before you could answer, a knock sounded at the front door. Topper didn’t even look up. “It’s probably Rafe.”

Your heart skipped—just for a second.

You exhaled and turned away before your face could give anything away.

You hesitated for half a second, then grabbed your coffee and slipped onto the back porch instead. The morning air was warm but crisp, the sky a perfect blue. You sipped your drink, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, enjoying the quiet.

A few minutes later, Topper’s voice carried from inside. “Y/N! You coming or what?”

You leaned against the railing, glancing back through the screen door.

“Do I have to?” you asked lazily.

“You need to get out more,” he shot back. “And not with those petty girls you call friends. Actually have fun for once.”

You made a face at him, but after a moment, you sighed. “Fine, I’ll go.”

The club was alive with the sounds of summer—music, laughter, the occasional splash from the pool. It was familiar, predictable, and easy.

You found yourself lost in conversation, drinks in hand as the afternoon rolled on. Games of cornhole played out in the background, a few of the guys playing half-hearted rounds of golf on the golf course.

At one point, you ended up near Rafe. It was brief, you were reaching for a drink from the same cooler, and for a split second, it was just the two of you.

“So, you actually showed up today,” he remarked, something teasing in his tone.

You smirked. “Shocking, right?”

Rafe took a slow sip, his gaze flickering over you in that way he always had, a mix of amusement and something else you could never quite put a name to.

“Figured you’d be off somewhere with your little entourage,” he said, nodding toward a group of girls lounging by the pool.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “They’re not that bad.”

Rafe gave you a knowing look. “Right.”

You shook your head with a small laugh, grabbing your drink. “What, you don’t think I can have fun without Topper babysitting me?”

He leaned in slightly, like he was going to say something, but then Kelce called his name from across the patio. Rafe’s expression didn’t change, but there was a beat of silence between you before he finally shook his head, a slow smirk creeping onto his lips.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your unopened water bottle and a feeling you weren’t ready to unpack.

You found yourself wandering away from the cooler, your gaze shifting toward the pool where a handful of girls were gathered. Some you knew from school, others you had been around since childhood, nothing special, but it was always the same routine: a lot of talk, a little drama, and a whole lot of gossip.

You debated for a moment, but then Topper's voice rang out, teasing you again about needing a life outside of hanging with the same group. So, with a shrug, you made your way over to the girls.

They were lounging in oversized beach chairs, chatting casually, their voices rising over the ambient noise of the club. A few of them waved you over, and you joined them, setting your drink down beside you.

“Look who decided to show up,” Tiffany, one of the more persistent girls, grinned at you. She flicked her dark sunglasses off her face, her gaze assessing. "You know, we were just talking about how perfect it must be for you, being so close to the infamous Rafe Cameron."

A few of the other girls giggled in unison, and you immediately knew where this was going.

“Yeah,” Samantha piped up, fanning herself dramatically. “Like, how do you even deal with him being around all the time? I mean your brother is alright, but Rafe’s, like… another level.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, though a small part of you found it amusing how the girls seemed to think you had this inside track to Rafe’s world.

“Rafe’s just Rafe,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light and uninterested, but they weren't having it.

“Awww, come on,” Tiffany said, propping herself up on her elbows. “You know there’s something going on between you two. I can feel the tension when you’re both around. It’s like... electrifying.”

You laughed, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Samantha raised an eyebrow. “I’m serious, though. You have to admit it’s weird being so close to him. I mean, come on, he’s a total dreamboat, and you guys have known each other forever... Must be so hard not to get caught up in that.”

The conversation was starting to feel a little too close for comfort. It was strange hearing them gush over Rafe, especially when just the night before, you could’ve sworn there had been something more to his presence. But you weren’t ready to dive into that. 

“Rafe’s just Topper’s best friend,” you shrugged again, sipping your drink. “Nothing special.”

The girls exchanged a look, some of them clearly disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm.

“You’re just so lucky, though,” Tiffany added, her voice dropping a little, clearly a mix of envy and awe. “Like, we’d die for a shot with someone like him.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “He’s not exactly a charity case, trust me.”

They all laughed, but there was a layer of truth in your words that you hadn’t intended to put out there. It was just Rafe. But the way they were fawning over him made you almost feel like you were hiding a secret you didn’t want anyone to know.

Samantha smirked, then leaned back in her chair, clearly changing the subject. “Anyway, enough about Rafe. Have you seen Daniel’s hair lately? It’s like he’s trying to make a statement with that mess.”

You allowed yourself to relax as the conversation shifted onto someone else, and before long, you found yourself laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

[sansaorgana]

— NEW MEMORIES

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — You're excited to celebrate holidays for the first time in a long time and you prepare the school for Christmas and Hanukkah but your husband's attitude differs, which leads to an argument. You accidentally reveal too soon that you're expecting, which ruins a surprise.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — As usual, Reader’s mutation is NOT specified. I checked online Hanukkah's date for 1973 and I hope it showed me right that it started December 19th, which means it would overlap with Christmas. I also tried not to specify if Reader would celebrate only Hanukkah with Erik or Christmas, too, so I hope it's not very exclusive, because I imagine that even if she is not a Christian or Jewish, she would still want to celebrate Hanukkah because of her husband. In this fic, Erik and Reader are both teachers at Xavier's School, probably after Days of Future Past happened but with less shitty ending for Erik 😂 I also wanted to write a part when the baby is born but I decided the time difference between the scenes would be too big so I'll just write another fic 😁

WARNINGS — mentions of parents' death (Reader's backstory is similar to Jean Grey's)

WORD COUNT — 2,220

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

NEW MEMORIES

December has never been your favourite time of the year. Most of the time it was a reminder that you weren’t normal, that your life wasn’t usual and that whatever all these people in Christmas commercials had was out of your reach.

But in 1973, for the first time in your life, you were actually excited. And since Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was open again, you had plenty of people to share your excitement with. Lots of students volunteered to help you with decorating the place for the upcoming Christmas and Hanukkah celebrations. That year was one of those when the two of them overlapped.

After all your classes on Friday, you worked on yet another room of the house with the help of a few students. When you finished it was almost ten pm so you told them goodnight and went straight to your bedroom. Erik was already there, reading a history book and making notes.

“What is it about?” you asked him with a smile as you began to take off your clothes. You were so tired that you decided to take a shower in the morning and now just change into pajamas.

“Napoleonic wars,” your husband answered without looking up. “I have a feeling he might have been one of us.”

“Aren’t we, like, a product of this century?” you asked and put a nightgown on. “Come on, it’s late, let’s go to sleep,” you stood behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“I’ve only just begun,” he explained. “I need these notes for Monday.”

When you managed to convince Erik to join you at school and teach history, he was unsure about it but he promised to give it a try. Just like you promised you would leave with him to live in peace somewhere else if he wouldn’t like the life at Charles’ school. But one semester later he was already very engaged in his work. Students respected him although you could see that they were also a bit scared of him, which was understandable.

“You’ve just begun?” you laughed a little.

“I was playing chess with Charles earlier,” Erik answered with a nod and hummed after underlining a line in the book.

“Is this why you’re so tense?” you asked as you slightly squeezed his stiff shoulders. “Did you lose?”

“I’m not tense,” he tried to shake you off.

“Talk to me, Erik. It’s not gonna work if you refuse to talk to me,” you reminded him sternly and he sighed before putting the pencil down and closing the book. “We need to be open about what is bothering us, you promised me we’d make it work this time,” you added.

“Yes, I know. But I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Erik turned his head around to look at your face. You took a step back and furrowed your brows.

“What do you mean, Erik?” you asked.

He hesitated before saying anything and a million of possible scenarios started to come up to your mind.

“You don’t like it here?” You inquired. “You want us to move out?”

“No, it’s not about that… But…” Erik swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in. “I don’t like what you’re currently doing. I’m sorry. I don’t want to take your happiness out of it.”

“What am I currently doing?” you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Christmas and Hanukkah preparations,” he explained and you blinked a few times as your brain needed to process that information.

“Wait, what?!” you raised your voice a little. You didn’t want to scold him for expressing his feelings but you just couldn’t understand his reaction. “We’re going to celebrate for the first time in such a long time, and what’s more important, we’re not gonna be alone in this. We have our friends and students here. For the first time December is a positive time of the year to me… to us,” you tried to explain your point of view nervously. Erik was only looking at you and blinking slowly, patiently waiting for you to finish. “But I don’t do it for myself. I mostly am doing it for you, Erik. I wanted you to be happy, too. I wanted you to enjoy something that had been taken away from you a long time ago.”

“It reminds me of Hanukkahs with my parents,” he finally spoke up and you pursed your lips for a moment before opening your mouth again.

“So you don’t want to ever celebrate again?” you asked to be sure.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head.

“Why can’t you let yourself be happy, why are you torturing yourself further? I don’t get it, I’m sorry,” you tried not to be irritated but you felt utterly disappointed. You sat on the edge of your bed and hid your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a killjoy.”

“Too late,” you murmured, fighting your tears back.

“I know that most of the students will be celebrating. I think I’ll just leave for a week somewhere. I have already discussed it with Charles and he said there are a few things I can do for him at that time,” Erik’s voice sounded casual like he was discussing business for you.

“You want to leave us during Christmas time?” you moved the hands off of your face and looked up at him angrily.

“(Y/N), please, I don’t want to fight about it…” Erik sighed. “Why can’t you just understand that I don’t want to…” he clenched his jaw and looked away. “I don’t want to create new memories like this because it would remove the ones I already have… with my mother.”

“And you think she wouldn’t want you to celebrate holidays with your new family? You don’t think she’d want you to be happy?” you stood up and looked down at him. You felt like a bitch but his explanation made you even angrier.

“I don’t know what she’d want because she’s dead!” He stood up and raised his voice.

“So, I won’t be able to celebrate ever?! Because you don’t want to create new memories?” you put your hands on your hips.

“I’m not forbidding you to celebrate.”

“I don’t want to celebrate without you, don’t you understand?!” you yelled and rolled your eyes. “And when our child is born, you won’t celebrate Hanukkah with them either?” you asked and then you closed your mouth quickly. Your anger made you reveal a few things too early.

“What child?” you could see Erik’s face becoming pale within a second. “(Y/N)?”

“It was supposed to be a Christmas surprise… But since you won’t even be here, I guess I can tell you now,” you shrugged your arms. “I’m pregnant,” you announced and turned around to avoid looking at his face. You were scared of his reaction.

You didn’t know how long it took him to finally do something. Was it a very long minute or was it ten minutes of a heavy silence between you two…?

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. Apologizing wasn’t his strong trait. You sensed him standing behind you and putting his hand on your shoulder shyly. You didn’t push him away but you didn’t lean back towards him as usual either. “For how long do you know?”

“Two weeks. It’s the second month,” you answered, your eyes focused on the wall in front of you as you tried to fight the tears back. “Are you even happy?” you dared to ask and your lower lip trembled because asking it out loud made your heart break.

You were trying to give him a normal life, to give him family and happiness, joy around Christmas time and all that. But he seemed to prefer to dwell on his past. You didn’t expect him to forget about his mother or about the pain, of course not. Your past wasn’t exactly pleasant either. But you wanted to be happy despite that, you wanted to have a family, you wanted a new start in life, another chance.

“Of course I am,” Erik answered and gently turned your body around so you would face him. However, you tried to avoid his eyes. “But I’m terrified,” he confessed.

“And you think I am not?” you looked up eventually as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. “I’m a monster, Erik. You think I’m not scared of hurting them by accident?” you asked.

When you were about twelve years old, you caused your parents’ death after having an argument with them. Your powers were out of control and you were locked in a mental institution for underage girls by people who didn’t understand that you weren’t crazy nor really dangerous. That was where you met the person who made you realize who you were and who was the only person there who wouldn’t treat you like a monster; although that was the word you could easily call him with. His name was Sebastian Shaw – but he introduced himself as Doctor John Smith. He was experimenting on you for a few years and although it had been a traumatic experience, you learnt how to control your mutation thanks to him. That was also how you met Erik – he found you not so long after you turned eighteen years old and left the institution. You started to work as a waitress and he was hunting for the man who had used your pain and suffering to perform experiments on you to deepen his knowledge about the various mutations. You decided to join Erik because your life didn’t seem to have any purpose anyway.

“You’re not a monster,” he sighed and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you. With one of his hands he held the back of your head and caressed your hair. “You were just a child and now you’re older, you can control your powers. You’re extraordinary,” he whispered the words of comfort and kissed your forehead. “I’m not scared about you hurting our baby, I would never. I trust you with my life,” he assured you and it was comforting to hear that.

“Creating new memories doesn’t wipe out the old ones,” you cried out and pressed your face deeper into his chest. “Believe me, I wish it worked this way. I wish I could forget. I begged Charles to make me forget but he refused to do it to me,” you confessed and Erik raised your chin to make you look at him again. He hadn’t known about that before.

“You haven’t told me that,” his face was full of pain and worry.

“It was when you were in jail. I begged Charles to remove all the pain, the memory of my parents, the memory of Shaw… Even you. I begged him to even remove you from my head. But he told me I wouldn’t be myself any longer. He was right and I hate that. I hate that what I am is made of pain and suffering,” you sniffled. “That’s why I want to make good memories so badly, do you understand? I want to celebrate with you like we never have before. I want to laugh and feel safe. Like I belong somewhere, surrounded with friends and students, with my husband by my side and my baby growing inside of me. Do you understand my point of view now, Erik?” you bit on your trembling lip.

“Yes, my liebling, I do,” he nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead and then the tip of your nose, which made you giggle through the tears, until eventually he pecked your lips.

“But I don’t want to force you either,” you sighed. Now, when all your emotions were finally out and you calmed yourself down, you decided there was no point in pushing him into something that would make him feel uncomfortable. “If you don’t want to celebrate, it’s alright. We both have our right to deal with whatever that has happened to us in our own ways. I’ll still have fun with all the rest, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.

“No, you were right. About me choosing to torture myself instead of allowing myself to enjoy my life,” Erik caressed your cheek and you cracked a smile. “And I can’t miss my child’s first Hanukkah either.”

“I want them to have a happy childhood,” you told him. “Like we never had.”

“I know. I do, too,” Erik placed his hand on your belly and caressed it gently, like it was made of glass. “I will protect them from everything, I promise. No human will hurt our baby.”

You smiled at him and cupped his face before leaning in to give him a proper kiss this time.

But you didn’t tell him that what you feared more than humans hurting your child was actually the child turning out to be perfectly normal. You were afraid that a man so prejudiced towards humans as your husband wouldn’t love his child fully if they weren’t a mutant. You couldn’t tell him that, though. You didn’t want to fight with him anymore that night. Instead, you just kissed him. After all, you’d still have a few years before you’d find out if the baby was a mutant or not.

MASTERLIST

[captainfantasticalright]

Another Sir Terry Pratchett interview on the details of writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. (More about this process x).

Question about how he goes about collaborating with someone else .

Terry: “You make them do what you want”.

Gary Cornell came up with something very apposite talking about working together, he says : It’s not that (each) of you does 50% of the work, each of you does 90% of the work.

Um. The way we did it then, and I can’t really speak as an expert because it's the only time I’ve ever done it and other people do it in different ways, it wasn’t a case of, the way the Americans tend to do it, um, is one person writes a draft and the other person goes in and noodles with that draft. We did the whole thing from the ground up; each was doing bits. The ad hoc way we had of working, it’s simple: I’ve got a track record writing novels, Neil hadn’t. So I became like the editor, the taskmaster. Because the other thing is the practical problem about two people 120 miles apart doing something, is that, um, it would be different now, but in those days we had no reliable means of electronic communication. We could connect computers together with modems and then spend the whole evening at cross purpose and ringing each other up and saying “I’m getting lots of little faces and shit like that all over..”

Three quarters of an hour and about eight phone calls, you actually managed to transmit about 2000 words you could have actually phoned and sneezed in a morse code.

[w]hen we were doing the first draft of the film script, we were both members of CompuServe so crappy our BT rural lines that the quick efficient way was for me to go into CompuServe and leave the work I’d done in Neil’s mailbox on the computer in Ohio or someplace and later that evening he would dial CompuServe in America and download it from Ohio or wherever it was.

So in order to get the script 120 miles, electronically it was doing about 10000. This is from the global village.

What we would do is I would hold the master copy and sometimes work would have to stop for 24 hours because stuff was in the post, because the nightmare, the absolute nightmare which I knew would happen if we let it, was that somehow we’d end up with two master copies in existence with little, minute changes, and we’d never be able to spot which was which.

So the last thing we wanted was two master copies, and we worked on the phone who did what. I did a bit more than Neil, of that anyway. But, it also felt to me to be an awful lot of the glue that no one wanted to do because it was easy to do set piece scenes and written on a kind of, on the kind of plot somewhere you get A and B to F and X and Y across to C T. And that really is like 3000 words where you have to move people around and then,you know, shove extra bits in; so I ended up probably doing near 75% of the book.

I would probably say because it’s, because had we’ve done it any other way it would’ve been like three months longer to do.

Also part of the process from another interview with Terry Pratchett:

Q: Let's talk a bit about the book you collaborated with Neil Gaiman on: Good Omens. That was before email, so how did it work on a practical basis? What was the most challenging aspect of writing with someone else?

I'm sure what I have to say will echo what Neil has said. When two people work on a book, it isn't a case where each one does 50% of the work. Each one does 100% of the work. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are mine. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are Neil's. There are some bits which were Neil's idea which I wrote, and there are some bits which were my idea which Neil wrote. Some bits we no longer know exactly whose ideas they were, or who wrote them. By the time we'd gone through all the drafts, it had been written by some sort of composite entity. We wrote it in the 14th century. We each had one phone line and a 1200 baud modem. We'd work it out: "OK, you send, I'll receive." Sometimes it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before we could send the stuff. It would have been cheaper and easier to have rung each other up and sneezed out the text in Morse Code. I was the Keeper of the Disks. I insisted that there should only be one official version in existence at any time. The moment it split into two, we would be in dead trouble. But Neil would sometimes send me a disk with 2000 words, saying " This is the scene with so and so -- insert it here." It more or less worked. It took us about six weeks to do the first draft. I think it worked because, at the time, we were each making a name for ourselves in our respective fields. It's not that we didn't take it seriously. But we were relaxed. We thought we would earn some holiday money by doing it. The nice thing about collaborating is that there is one other person in the world who is thinking about the exact same thing that you are thinking about. We both have a similar reading background, I suppose. It was quite rare when one of us came up with something that the other guy didn't know about. So we could bounce ideas off one another quite easily.

[lu-is-not-ok]

quick question, how we feeling about hong Lu's new id after the trailer? I am personally so fucking hyped

Oh there's a lot I am feeling. Not just about Hong Lu's new id, but I am feeling things about them regardless.

I don't usually do full analysis on walpurgy trailers, but I want to at the very least plop down some observations I noted.

One - THERE IS A NEW TRACK IN THE SECOND HALF??? I can tell it's not originally from Ruina. They added. A wholeass new track. For the Church of Broken Gears fight. Fucking Incredible Honestly.

Two - Nothing too interesting going on with the Full Stop Heathcliff voice lines we got. It's mostly reiteration of the ammo-preserving ideas we got from Ruina's Full Stop Office reception, but we do get a little bit of lore through the full name of one of the ammo we see being used - Atelier Logic-made high velocity pulverisation round.

Three - Gameplay trailer for Full Stop Heathcliff. Three-coin Skill 1. One-coin Skill 2. One-coin Skill 3. Special Skill 3/Skill 4 that uses a cinematic as fuck animation of a unique bullet, my guess is that this Skill is used for either the last Ammo or through some other unique conditional. Evade that causes a followup attack from Full Stop Hong Lu. Retreat mechanic similar to Devyat IDs, but in this case upon running out of Ammo. Upon return, Heathcliff uses another Skill 1 - I'm guessing this is to showcase that this retreat is a Reload mechanic.

Four - Full Stop Hong Lu voice lines. So can we talk about the middle line? "I don't think the Head wants people to die anti-climactically. But what is an anticlimatic death anyway? We can put all kinds of meaningful labels on deaths, but it's still death at the end of the day." Hey. Hey Hong Lu. What the fuck are you talking about? This is terrifying because this could have two equally as likely explanations. This could be a Baoyuism, a musing about Daiyu's death being meaningless. OR. This could be a Daiyuism, a musing on the nature of death not unlike that of the flower burial scene. And the fact that both fit scares me.

Five - Gameplay trailer for Full Stop Hong Lu. Two-or-three-coin Skill 1. Four-or-five-coin Skill 2. Maybe four-coin Skill 3. Hard to tell if every gunshot is one coin or not. Then, we get something that I fucking called - Full Stop Hong Lu has an alternate Skillset for when he runs out of Ammo. Three-coin Skill 1. Three-coin Skill 2. Three-coin Skill 3. Next up, clashable Counter with two coins and what seems like a Reload. Then, a similar followup attack, in this case Full Stop Heathcliff shooting as a followup to Hong Lu's attack. And another followup attack mechanic, except in this case while Heathcliff has retreated - he can snipe enemies from afar.

Six - Quick note on Magic Bullet Outis E.G.O animation: I don't think what we're seeing is one continuous cinematic of one E.G.O use. I think this E.G.O will display different animations and have different effects depending on the amount of uses, aka depending on the amount of Magic Bullet Ammo. Similar to how Magic Bullet Outis ID's Skill 3 changes depending on the amount of Magic Bullet Ammo.

Seven - Magic Bullet Outis E.G.O Voice lines. Cause holy shit there's a lot of them.

Awakening:

"It really is as you say; this is a magic bullet that will never miss." - This is obviously a reflection of how the bullet is given through a deal with the devil... which then makes me think. Was Outis's role in the war also a deal with the devil? Was there someone in her life who willingly gave her the position of commander?

"There's no going back when I've already come this far by firing the bullet. Even if this road I walk is an inevitable path to inferno." - A reflection of Outis's own feelings. She feels like after what she's done, she can't turn back and change, even if she knows that continuing down this path will spell her doom. It's an insecurity we see be partially unearthed in Canto 7.

"The despairing heart is burnt black, never to fade away. Only its shearing cold floods within." - Perhaps a hint to her deeper feelings. Despair is what led her to taking the deal, and in the process she had to burn her heart and leave it with nothing but cold within.

"Though it was despair that I sought, the bullet's trajectory... is predetermined!" - Something something this flow cannot be stopped. Outis feeling like no matter her motivations she can't change what she's doing because she's in far too deep.

Corrosion:

"A bullet was fired, a magic bullet that will never miss." - Interesting how in these she completely dissociates herself from the bullet firing. Perhaps it's a reflection of how she deals with the crimes she's committed. Detaching herself from them, seeing them as just something that happened

"No justice, no malice. Only a finger that pulls the trigger." - Not just personal dissociation, but a dissociation from any emotions. Trying to say there is No real motivation for the bullet, it's just something that happens regardless. There's no malicious intent, but no righteous justice either. Just calculated violence.

"I'll be left alone in this inferno at the end of the road." - Girl you are so abandonment issues. This could be a reflection of both how she's worried about whether anyone is waiting for her to come back, but also an insecurity about whether anyone will accept her for knowing what she's done.

"Though I may lack the will to move forward... ...the bullet's forward-momentum cannot be stopped." - Reflection of how Outis, despite not wanting to continue down this path, feels like she has no choice. This flow cannot be stopped. Unable to change, she continues on.

To me, the awakening is a reflection of Outis when it all began. When she took the deal at the start of the war. The corrosion on the other hand is a reflection of Outis how she is now. One who is distant from the past, and yet unable to move on from it.

[deja-yu]

Night time routine - Jeong Yunho

Genre: Fluff

Warning: more than a little suggestive but no smut scenes~!

Note: I write x gn reader unless specifically stated otherwise.

Something Yunho absolutely loves to do is watch you get ready for bed.

He worked on this routine for quite some time, to start he’d always shower with you at night. If you mentioned wanting to shower he’d shoot up and beat you there. At first you thought he would eventually stop, blaming his eagerness to shower together on the newness of it. But he did not let up, at first it usually happened with giggles and laughter and at the end of your shared shower you’d both be too tired for any kind of skincare and just fall into bed. Over time it became routine, you’d talk about your day or whatever came to mind. Giggles and kisses did not disappear but you’d keep the other stuff for the bed on most nights. It even became something you started looking forward to, just to be close to Yunho and have each others undivided attention. He also loved this time together, as much as he started it as a means to his goal. He’d patted himself on the back for the added bonus. And neither of you minded when the other wanted a solo shower. It was also on those nights Yunho left you to get ready at whatever pace you wanted. 

Another way he made sure he was in bed first to watch  you finish your routine was by hogging the sink while brushing his teeth to the point where you have given up trying to squeeze past his frame to get your own toothbrush. But you would have gotten changed into your pyjamas instead of waiting. So he got you a robe after mentioning your shirt often got wet while you washed your face. Succeeding in having you wait for him to finish while wearing the robe after the shower. 

In his own personal opinion, the robe Yunho bought you, is the best piece of fabric that existed. The fabric comfortable on your skin as you went through the last of your routine. Maybe he liked it because no matter how you tied the satin ribbon around your waist it would always loosen within a couple of minutes. Either from you moving too much to put on lotion on your legs or just because Yunho’s stare burned too hot. And eventually you just accepted the amount of skin showing, you were in your own house anyway.

And now after weeks of working on this, Yunho could comfortably lie back in bed while watching you put on your skincare at your shared makeshift vanity. On some nights you’d walk over with an extra headband and sheet mask and he would give you a grin demanding a little kiss before you got to brush his hair back and carefully place a sheet mask on his face. He’d ask for another kiss when you finish putting it on and laugh at your sour expression while complaining about the taste of the mask if you did. “Okay, okay, you owe me one then”. 

And as much as Yunho thinks he looks like a sweet boyfriend waiting for his partner to get to bed, which in his defence he did look like a puppy waiting for his cuddles on most nights. You however often have to bite back reactions when you catch his lustful eyes in the mirror. On those nights you enjoyed acting all innocent, going about your routine all the same. Those nights the ribbon holding the robe together just kept getting loose! You would complain around two times while tying the robe back, with the same flimsy knot you’d used the first time. The third time you’d huff and just let it be. 

Your collarbones and chest will slowly come into view as the fabric falls away. Whenever it would start showing a bit too much you’d quickly finish up and walk over to the bed, moving the robe back to cover you just a bit, to keep up the act of course. Once at the bed you are greeted with a glassy eyed Yunho who would quickly throw himself over to your side of the bed. Hand reaching for the ribbon, and then he’d look up at you, wait for you to hum or nod in agreement before pulling. letting him watch as you shrugged the robe off before getting under the covers. You didn’t need pyjamas those nights, Yunho would make sure you're nice and warm. Without realising the two of you had created different routines for similar reasons.

[we-stan-cale]

I was thinking a bit about character development.

Like, Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu have a beautiful friendship - and it grew over the course of the entire story.

I'm probably going to talk about later parts of the story, so Imma put the rest behind a divider so you can avoid spoilers

In the beginning, Choi Han was loyal to Cale but .. it was kind of shallow.

Choi Han didn't understand why they had to wear those shitty Arm robes, was shocked when Cale created his alibi by drinking, and so on and so forth.

He followed Cale, but he didn't really know Cale that well yet and that was clear.

Oh, and it was much more of a hierarchical relationship. Cale as his legs, Choi Han as Cale's knight.

This slowly began to change, though I think there were a couple of key turning points.

Cale almost dying after the Battle of the Gorge was one of them.

I think that's when Choi Han truly realized he couldn't trust Cale when it came to his health. Not that he hadn't seen signs before, but Cale always brushed things off and I think this was when Choi Han realized that no, it's really not okay, no matter what Cale says.

After that, we see Choi Han start asking more questions...

And Cale (with a clear flashback to his time as a team leader, where his people desperately wanted to help more) actually answered them.

The relationship started to shift, and become less liege and knight, and more colleagues. (This, btw, came from both of them. Choi Han asking more, and Cale telling more. Somewhat. A little bit.)

They definitely grow closer in other ways - Choi Han telling them about his long life after they found the Dragon Village, for example. (Though Cale already knew it, so you also see just how much Cale is still keeping his secrets).

And then...

We get Choi Han receiving Choi Jung Soo's memories.

That causes the biggest shift yet.

Now they aren't just liege and knight.

Now we have Cale thinking of Choi Han as his best friend's elder (even if Choi Han doesn't feel a need for that).

Also, Choi Han now knows. Not just that Cale is a transmigrator, not just about his life as Kim Rok Soo, not just about the cataclysm (and what happened to the Choi family).

He also knows about the tragedy that has pretty much defined Cale. He may not know about the aftermath, or Cale's time as team leader, but he knows that Cale was devastated after losing everyone.

We also see Choi Han (who got Syrem's ancient powers and now knows what it's like to use them) insist that Cale shouldn't absorb the Blood-drenched Rock power, a potential standoff that ended when Cale found another way and used Embrace instead.

They are no longer liege and obedient knight.

And then came the sealed god's test, where Choi Han gave up quite a lot of his potential lifespan, just to join Cale in one of the worst times of Cale's life.

And he was happy for it.

We see Cale truly overcome with emotion. The trust and friendship between the two of them is just beautiful.

And I truly meant to talk about Alberu as well (him joining them also adding to this) but I only realized when writing this just how much I had to say about Cale and Choi Han, so maybe I'll do that another time.

Anyways.

That still wasn't everything. Because we also had the indignity test...

And while I think the author didn't fully finish everything Choi Han saw because it'll probably come up in part 2 (it hasn't yet, but I think I see the author building up to something. Because so far they've all been too busy to really address a few things, plus apparently there's dragons dealing with time? Anyways, I suspect we'll get more on Cale's childhood, and what Choi Han knows, and some other things, but we'll see. It took almost 300 chapters in part 1 before we got all the amazing scenes with Cale and Choi Han and the sealed god's test and instant so I'm willing to let the author build things up again.)

Oh, sorry. What was I saying? Right.

Even though we don't have the full story, we know that Choi Han knows.

And in one of the side stories, he says this:

He didn’t know at first, but that person’s days of rest that Choi Han saw was more of a period of recovery than days of rest. Of course, the person himself thought that he was playing around, but it did not seem like that to Choi Han at all. That was why his people, who at some point realized the meaning of this rest day, tried their best not to bother his recovery.

And again, in the same side story but referring to a moment later in part 1

Cale was mumbling. “Haaaa. It’d be great to be a slacker.” Choi Han knew the meaning of those words. ‘I want to rest. I need to heal.’ That should be the meaning. However, he now knew what Cale would say after that.

And skipping the specific details, what Choi Han probably meant when he said he knew what Cale would say after that

Cale looked toward the east and calmly commented. “There are too many things to do, so I can’t rest.”

Choi Han understands Cale 1000x more than he did when they started.

And Cale understands Choi Han better, too.

Which is probably a topic for a whole other post, considering Cale initially almost seemed to put Choi Han on a pedestal as the hero and protagonist of the story.

[mingi-s-dimples]

weird request..? ( kinda ) it’s me lis😚 i love your work bia and i really REALLY want a demon hongjoong fic 🪦 maybe add some praising and choking kink as well…🤭🤭 i recently saw a picture of him that added to the “joong demon agenda” AND OH BOY 🫠🫠 love you 😚❤️

Crimson Nights - Hongjoong

REQUEST BY: @mingleshine (or how y'all might know her, my lovely Lis) she also made the banner 😋😋 had to use it for my love.

pairing: demon/incubus!hongjoong x fem!reader

rating: 18+

genre: romance, demon x human, love not necessarily filth (but a little bit cause I love writing filth hihi)

summary: the sillhouette you've always been dreaming and painting about finally finds it's way in your room, giving you what you've been longing for.

WC: 3.5k

warnings: demon au, incubus!hongjoong x human fem!reader, choking kink, neck marking, marking, a sprinkle of praise, pet names (sweetie, darling, princess), ramming (if this is even a warning), hard deep and needy longing love (joong appeared in reader's dreams for years), choking, huge dick!hongjoong, slight belly bulging (he was a big guy hihi), eyes glistering with lust and changing as soon as they're finished, sharp nails (said marking + hickeys), biting, a little bit of cnc maybe from his perspective reader was all down for it, possesiveness, claiming reader (you/re mine/I already claimed you), completely consesual, unprotected (WRAP UP IRL!), slapping/spanking, orgasms (both m&f), fluff (if you squint but I promise there is fluff cause wdym Hongjoong has waited years for reader to be ready to invite him in her world and how he talks to her at the end ansadka I'm blushing), probably forgot something !

Author's Note: I loved writing this one. The description in the beginning made me absolutely looooooooooooooooooove writing this fic, I've always loved to describe nice, vintage/retro like things/rooms. Tysm love for the request andddd can't wait for another one from you hihi <3 love you always, enjoy this one ^^ also I love when u call me bia it makes something in me go insane nshdajkndsma

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The room was a sanctuary of warmth and color, tucked away in an old manor where the whispers of time lingered in the wooden beams. As you stepped inside, the scent of aged wood and crackling fire filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of dried leaves that had drifted in through the slightly open window. The walls were adorned with paintings of every size, each one a vivid portrayal of autumn’s embrace. Rich hues of amber, gold, and crimson spilled from the canvases, capturing scenes of forests bathed in the gentle light of a setting sun, of fields where goldenrod swayed in the cool breeze, and of paths carpeted in a mosaic of fallen leaves.

The floor, covered in a thick, russet-hued rug, creaked softly underfoot, adding to the room’s rustic charm. A grand oak table sat in the center, its surface cluttered with brushes, palettes, and jars of paint that seemed to mirror the fiery shades of the season. On a nearby easel, a half-finished painting depicted a lone maple tree, its leaves a brilliant cascade of oranges and reds against the backdrop of a fading twilight sky.

Outside, the trees rustled softly in the wind, their branches bare save for a few stubborn leaves clinging to their last moments of life. The windowpanes rattled gently, as if echoing the sighs of the season, and through them, the distant cry of a flock of geese could be heard, their silhouettes barely visible against the dusky horizon. The room, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp, seemed to pulse with the rhythm of autumn itself, a place where the beauty of the season was captured and eternalized within the frames on the walls.

You’ve been having some weird dreams lately. The dreams were always drenched in shadows, where reality blurred and the world seemed suspended between night and twilight. In them, you found yourself standing in a vast, moonlit field, where the air was thick with an unspoken tension. The only light came from a ghostly crescent moon, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the landscape. It was in these shadows that you first saw him — a silhouette against the silver light, imposing, with a presence that sent a shiver down your spine and yet held your gaze captive.

He was not like any man you had ever seen. His form was humanoid but dark, almost as if he were carved from the very night itself. Yet, it was his eyes—those glowing embers hidden within the depths of shadow—that drew you in. They were the color of molten gold, burning with an intensity that made your heart race, eyes that seemed to see right through you, into the deepest corners of your soul.

Despite his demonic appearance, you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a magnetic force that defied all logic. Each night, the dreams grew more vivid, more intense. You would find yourself standing just a breath away from him, feeling the heat of his presence and the chill of the night air against your skin. His gaze would meet yours, holding you in place, and in that moment, you felt a strange mix of fear and desire. It was as if his eyes were speaking to you, whispering promises of secrets untold, of passions that could only exist in the world of dreams.

Sometimes, you could hear his voice—a deep, resonant sound that echoed in the silence, filled with both menace and allure. He would reach out, his hand almost touching you, but the dream would always end before you had made contact, leaving you waking with a longing you couldn’t quite understand. The sensation of his gaze lingered among you, haunting your waking hours, making you yearn for the night when she would see him again.

In these dreams, you were not afraid. The darkness did not frighten you, nor did his otherworldly form. Instead, you felt drawn into the mystery, consumed by the curiosity of who he was and why you felt such a strong connection to him. Each night you slipped into the sheets, so willingly, eager to return to that shadowy place where the lines between fear and desire blurred, and where you felt more alive than you ever did in the daylight.

The air in the room was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavy. You stood in the center of the old, dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension, a sensation you knew all too well from your dreams.

You had been here before—in those haunting visions that gripped you in the dead of night, where the lines between fear and desire blurred into something irresistible. But tonight was different. This time, you were awake. This time, it was real.

The temperature dropped suddenly, and a shiver ran down your spine. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to coalesce, gathering into a single point of darkness that deepened until it was almost tangible. Your breath hitched as the air hummed with an otherworldly energy. The shadows twisted, taking form, and your heart pounded in your chest as you watched.

Slowly, he emerged from the darkness—a figure of impossible beauty and terrifying power. His skin was pale, almost luminescent against the darkness, and his eyes glowed with a deep, unnatural fire. They were the eyes that had haunted you in your sleep, eyes that saw through you, into you, but you yet had a desire to meet him. His presence filling the room, cloaked in darkness that seemed to cling to him like a living thing.

His lips curled into a knowing smile, one that sent a jolt of both fear and longing through you. It was the smile that had always made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something thrilling. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, velvety rumble that seemed to reverberate through your very bones.

"So, we meet at last," he said, his tone laced with a dark amusement. "You've been dreaming of meeting me, haven't you?" 

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. It was as if the reality of his presence had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the rapid beating of your heart and the heat that flushed your skin.

He stepped closer, his movements fluid, almost serpentine. Every step he took seemed to pull you in, your body betraying you as it leaned towards him, yearning for the touch you knew would burn but also ignite something within you.

"You've been calling out to me, every night," he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now, here I am." 

He was close enough now that you could feel the cold radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own body. The scent of him was intoxicating, a mix of something dark and forbidden, like smoke and spices you couldn't name. It made your head dizzy, your thoughts tangling with desire and dread.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and the contact sent a shockwave through you. His touch was cold, but it sparked something deep within, a fire that you had only ever felt in your dreams. It was a sensation that bordered on pain, but also pleasure—a perfect, terrifying balance.

"Why do you fear me?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "I am what you desire most, am I not?"

You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "Who are you?"

His smile widened, a flash of sharp teeth that should have frightened you, but instead, it only made your heart race faster. "I am everything you've ever feared, everything you've ever wanted. I am the darkness in your soul, the fire in your blood. I am yours."

The words wrapped around you like a spell, binding you to him in a way that felt both inevitable and inescapable. You knew, deep down, that this was what you had been searching for, what your soul had been yearning for in those lonely, desperate moments between sleep and wakefulness.

“W-what’s your name?” you said, your head dizzy from what he made you feel deep inside you.

“I’m Hongjoong.. nice to meet you, princess.”

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but a breath, a heartbeat. His eyes burned into yours, and you felt yourself falling into them, into him, as if you had always belonged there.

"You have nothing to fear," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel their coolness. "We are one, you and I. And now, you will never be alone again."

As his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to fade, dissolving into darkness. All that remained was the heat of his kiss, the cold fire of his touch, and the knowledge that you had finally found what you had been seeking all along—him.

He stopped kissing you, a heady silence falling between, thick with the weight of what was about to happen. His hands, cold yet searing with an undeniable heat, trailed down your neck with a slow, deliberate touch, making you shiver. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. You could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing you closer, deeper into him, and you knew there was no escape—only surrender.

With a fluid, almost predatory grace, he lowered you onto the bed. The mattress yielded under your weight, and the cool sheets sent a shiver through your body. He hovered over you, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never wavering from yours as he gently eased you down, guiding your back to the softness beneath. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of darkness and desire.

His lips found your throat, pressing soft, lingering kisses that ignited every nerve in your body. The sensation was intoxicating, a mixture of warmth and cold that made your skin tingle with anticipation. His kisses were like whispers against your flesh, trailing down to your collarbone, each touch a promise of more to come. His sharp teeth, grasping your skin, receiving some whines out of you. 

You gasped as his hands slid under the fabric of your shirt, his fingers cool against the heated skin of your waist. His touch was slow, sensual, exploring every inch of you as if committing your body to memory. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice like velvet, dark and rich. “The way your body responds to mine? The way you tremble under my touch?”

His lips traced the curve of your shoulder, then continued their journey downward, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His fingers followed, brushing against your sides, your hips, as he moved lower. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every reaction you gave him.

When his lips reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. There was a question in his eyes, one that didn’t need to be spoken aloud, and your answer was in the way you arched your back, pressing your body into his touch, craving more. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pulled your shirt higher, exposing more of your skin to the cool air.

He kissed along your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of bare flesh he uncovered, each kiss sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands were everywhere, caressing, teasing, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he continued his exploration. The sound seemed to please him, a dark glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he looked up at you from beneath his lashes.

His mouth moved lower, his kisses growing more insistent, more demanding, and you could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter with each passing second. His touch was like a drug, addicting, overwhelming, and you were helpless to do anything but give in to the sensations he was pulling from you.

When he finally moved back up to capture your lips again, it was with a hunger that took your breath away. His kiss was deep, consuming, as if he was trying to devour every part of you, to claim you as his own. You could taste the darkness on his lips, the promise of something forbidden, something you had craved in your dreams but had never fully understood until now.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the small space between you. “You are mine,” he whispered, the words more a declaration than a question. “Every part of you, every breath, every heartbeat. Mine.”

And as he kissed you again, slow and deep, you knew that he was right. There was no turning back, no escape. You were his, body and soul, and the thought of it sent a thrill through you that was equal parts fear and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, as his lips found every sensitive spot on your skin, you surrendered completely to the darkness, to him, knowing that you were lost and yet finally found.

Your hands found their way through his hair, rubbing the nape of his neck. He took that as a challenge and as one of his hands was travelling around your body, all touchy on your thighs and waist, the other one went for your neck, putting pressure, almost like choking you. It only made you yearn for more as you squirmed under him, his gaze never leaving your needy eyes.

“I can see it in your eyes, princess. How much you want me, how much you need me. Do you want me to let you give in or… will you let me make you mine?” he said as he pressed down on your neck, hovering his lips over your collarbones, leaving soft, sloppy kisses, waiting for your response. 

But as you didn’t say anything, only moving underneath him, in wish of some friction, he understood your movements and manhandled you on your back, pressing your face into the mattress. 

“See, darling? Your body language is everything to me. The way it speaks to me… in no way you’d be able to portray by words” he whispered, his eyes glistening with lust and desire, eating you as a whole. 

“Joong- i- “ you mumbled, trying to get ahold of yourself, his dick struggling inside the rough fabric of the leather jeans, creating a prominent tent. All of this mess caused by you and your little dreams formed a loop of stroking his cock for a few seconds before rubbing his thigh up and down, all through the tightening cloth. 

His calm, yet lustful, twisted expression gave you an understanding on how much he wanted you, how bad he craved putting you on all fours, head buried in the mattress, holding your hands and pounding into you like the demon he was. 

Trembling hands gripping the silk sheets, your bottom lip quivered involuntarily as breathless pants left your mouth, Hongjoong behind you, squeezing and occasionally slapping your ass. It was already red… at how much he fondled with it.

“So… should I.. finally claim you, princess?” he said as he turned you over to face him. He started undressing you, slowly but surely getting rid of everything. You were now laying bare in front of him, goosebumps visible on your entire body from the cold yet inviting touch he had.

He pulled you into him by your waist, making you gasp once you felt his hard erection press against your thigh. "Feel that, princess? Gonna fill you up nicely" he whispered, his breath stuttering against your face, like he was a feral animal wanting to destroy you. 

As he unbuckled his leather pants and got rid of them, unveiling his already dripping cock, you were left amazed by the size. You expected.. the size.. cause he was a demon, after all, but...

"Oh, fuck" you exhaled when he went between your thighs, his red angry tip pressing and slowly moving up and down on your folds.

"You good, darling? he grunted as he pushed himself inside you, no warning. You softly moaned at the sensation, but as you realised he put only his tip in, you braced yourself on the mattress and when he pushed himself just a little bit more, you whined and tears started forming at the corner of your eyes. As he wiped them soflty, he let you adjust to his size but you never quite completely did.

Pain and pleasure hovered over you, heavy mist in the air and breathing. He lifted you up, still bouncing slowly on his cock, holding you close to his chest. It was it you were making love to your demon.. this was exactly what was happening. Slow, lustful, desireful thrusts, moves and touches, soft kisses from your neck to your collarbones, sucking dark spots on your fair soft skin.

You suddenly moved and twitched as he bottomed down, to which he pushed you down even further, feeling how a small bulge was forming in your belly, almost visible.

"Princess, stop moving. I might actually hurt you if you move without warning" he said as he dug his sharp nails into the flesh of your waist, leaving soft bleeding marks on your skin. You whined at the pain but damn... it turned you on so bad, arousal dripping on his balls, from below you as you bounced on him more forcefully, not caring about the pain anymore, which had turned into utmost pleasure.

Hongjoong was all touchy with you, he was like this... maybe because he was longing you how much you were longing to meet him? All of these years you've seen him in your dreams... all of the paintings and stories you've made up of him, all because you wanted to meet the mysterious entity in your dream and... you were over the moon for him. How he fucked you so good, how he took you under his influence, his voice, his fangs, as he dug them suddenly in your neck, getting soft choked moans out of your rapidly rising chest.

Only sloppy sounds could be heard from between the two of you, soft and slow stuttering moves, arching your back with every thrust of his. It's true.. he was basically ramming into you, feeling like he could destroy your insides any moment. But at the same time.. there was some kind of slowness, caring to it, deeply pounding into you but making sure you slowly take every single inch of his length, while he gave you soft kisses. One of his hands found it's way to your breasts, playing with your nipple as he received a whine out of you. You were already close, your head getting dizzier, cloudy with the thought of the dirty things you've done with your... demon.

His hands all over your back, leaving scratches and his lips leaving spots on your skin. This is how fucked up you were.. but you were close to finishing, and as he rammed into you a couple of more times and felt how your core bursted, you creamed on his cock, leaving out moans and cries of arousal, tears falling down your cheeks. He fucked you through your orgasm, overstimulating you. He later came inside your aching and throbbing pussy, slowing down his thrusts and then finally comming to a stop.

"Such a good girl you are... such a good girl for me. Is that right?" he whispered.

Both of your fluids were dripping down your legs and on his thighs as he let you fall slowly on the ruined bed sheets. He could feel... even smell how your blood boiled for him, how aroused you were.

"Everything good, darling?" he said as he wiped down your tears, rubbing your trembling thighs slowly. "Mhm? Are you feeling okay?"

"Uh, yes, Joong. It was incredible... " you said and he gave you a kiss on your forehead.

"You know.. y/n. I've been longing for this moment... for years. Ever since I first appeared in your dreams... but I had to wait until you finally wanted it to happen. Now I'm here, sweetie. I'm here.. I'll stay here forever. You're mine and I'm yours.. remember?" his eyes changed colours, from a deep red that appeared when he pushed you on the bed... to a soft hazel-like colour.

"You can't escape my grip anyways. I already claimed you before inviting me in your life..." he said and hugged you thightly.

"Hongjoong... I've always wanted to meet you.. the mysterious entity haunting, appearing in my dreams. I was so eager to meet that sillhouette... you won't ever understand." you said and gave in, curling up into a ball in his grip.

"Don't worry.. I'm here and I won't ever leave, as I said" he reassured you, stroking your hair slowly and biting your neck again, marking his terittory once again for the night.