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inkedtae · 4 months ago

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xiii. rotten angelcake ⇾ kth. [M]

⎡She’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten⎤

chapter thirteen : the mysterious angel of seoul ⤑ ❝ the world is desperate to know who you are, but taehyung is the only voice that matters. ❞

⇽ prev. | masterlist | next ⇾

⌁ pairing; ceo!taehyung x curvy!reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; s2l, ceo au, sugar daddy au, smut, fluff, 18+

⌁ word count; 9.9k

⌁ warnings; dom!taehyung, daddy!taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, virgin!reader, daddy kink, praise kink, corruption kink, bdsm themes, orgasm control, dirty talk, dry humping, ab riding, begging, grinding, teasing, neck kisses/licking, a bit of spit play

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ও huge thanks to jen ( @itaeewon ) for the amazing new banner and a very huge, massive thanks to jen ( @anobodyslove ) for beta-reading late into the night for me and being so fucking patient! please send her all the love because she helps me make this so readable and clear for you and she is just over all the best human in the world 💕

Misty cobalt skies blanket the city. Rain falls steadily, blurring the city lights below. You love watching the droplets disrupt puddles and the sea of coloured umbrellas. While most are black or grey, a few pops of yellow, red, blue and pink still bob down the sidewalk. Perhaps your favourite thing about rainy days, however, is how the pavement darkens, glistening under the streetlights. Like how the vibrant green grass of the countryside invokes a reconnection with nature, the vivid black streets of the city draws you into a quiet, almost meditative stillness amid the chaos.

Flashes– white-hot and blinking.

You blink, disoriented from the all too bright lights on just a gloomy day. Glancing further down the window, you quietly groan at the growing crowd of reporters. A group of perhaps ten photographers and five journalists huddle near the front entrance, bombarding anyone who walks in or out of the building. Arms crossed, jaw tight, you step away from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room and make your way back to your desk.

You knew you left an impression on the press the night of the ballet performance. The following morning, you woke up with an ache between your legs and a series of reassuring text messages from Taehyung. He said he’d take care of it, but your face, slightly hidden behind your fur coat with loose strands of hair dancing in the wind, was the top story on every media outlet. Glittering makeup, furrowed brows, and annoyed confusion in your gaze– you cannot believe you’re staring at a photo of yourself. You thought they might have edited it, or adjusted the contrast settings to highlight the whiteness of your coat against the darkness in your eyes. But the same picture was posted thousands of times over.

When Taehyung told you that he couldn’t get the photo removed, you weren’t surprised. It had been circling around the web for the better part of the day and he would have to track down every device in the city to permanently erase it. However, he reassured you that the details of your personal life will remain hidden.

You hoped that would be enough. Eventually, Seoul would grow tired of looking at your face, you remember thinking. They will move on to the next spectacle and you’ll be able to go to work on Monday with little to no trouble.

So, you locked yourself in your apartment and decided to wait for this all to blow over. You made sure to stay off social media, as per Taehyung’s advice. He said it’s not healthy getting lost in threads and posts about yourself, having been a victim of his own curiosity once or twice before.

Instead, you watched a handful of movies, avoided Mrs Chu’s prying questions about Taehyung and applied to a few jobs. You baked cookies, brownies and a banana loaf. You reorganized your books, did some laundry, and lost a few board games against Mrs Chu…again. You texted Taehyung until he had a business call to hop on and then tried, with all your might, to finally go to bed. However, the curiosity of how much they knew had finally worn you down. You started with a single thread from a reputable news outlet. But soon, you scrolled too far into toxic netizen territory.

For hours, you skimmed articles and speculations about your identity. Some think you’re an escort, which isn’t entirely inaccurate, but most think you’re some nepo-baby, deeming you too well dressed and poised for any other line of work– a sentiment that still makes your eyes roll. They also point out that The Geraldson Group is known for nepotism hires and so if you are anyone, it must be some rich man’s daughter.

And while a Daddy did happen to get you an interview, he wasn’t biologically yours.

This morning, you were sitting in the backseat of the car Taehyung contracted for you. Given your newfound fame, he thought it would be best to have a driver escort you to ensure your safety. While on your way to work, a series of new photos surfaced. You stiffened in your seat as you clicked on the link Taheyung sent you. He wanted to give you a heads-up about the new pictures and reassure you that he is doing his best to take care of it.

The photos, seemingly taken from a hidden angle, were from your day off a couple of weeks ago. You were on your way to the Bangtan Building, the same annoyed, distant look in your eyes. There are frames of you getting into the cab, sitting in traffic, and walking into the building with an air of defiance. You suddenly understood why Taehyung had been adamant on disciplining you then. You looked like a total brat.

The media, on the other hand, thinks you’re some sort of notable figure, absolutely in love with your fashion sense and cold demeanor. From recreating your make-up to your style, you start trending online. More than that, the topic of your identity has everyone hooked. People want to know who you are and why Taehyung won’t share you with them. They want to know where you came from, how you met, and if you are the love of his life.

[V] : I think you might be more famous than me.

[angelcake] : are we surprised?

[V] : Careful.

[V] : Don’t make me come down there and give everyone another reason to talk about us.

[angelcake] : me**

[V] : Behave or I will tear that little dress off.

You suppress a blush at the memory of the conversation.

Now, as you walk through the Research and Development floor, you tug at the long sleeves of your tight, ribbed cotton shirt. The high collar covers your neck from the cold and balances out the shortness of your strapless black dress. The smooth fabric clings to your frame, its tailored cut accentuating your curves. You can hear the soft brush of your sheer, black tights between your thick thighs with each high-heeled step down the hall. With your hair up in a high, sleek ponytail, your dangling silver earrings are on full display. Taehyung sent the delicate diamond set, with a matching necklace and bracelet, yesterday to cheer you up after you confessed you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of googling yourself. You opted for the earrings only today, saving the other pieces of jewellery for another time.

As you near the common area, where an array of desks are meticulously organised for optimal movement and focus, you begin to attract more stares. Some people smirk, others raise brows and the very few you might consider work-friends, draw heavy breaths as they meet your uncertain gaze.

Jackson leans against your desk, arms crossed, while Ethan stands beside him. They both give you tight smiles.

“Morning,” Ethan greets, taking a step back so you can walk around them to your desk.

“Good morning,” you reply with a polite smile, though your voice is shaky.

You look between the two, about to ask them what’s going on when you notice the magazine on your desk. There, on the front page of The Metropolitan, is your original viral photo. Your face dominates the entire cover. By the fur of your coat, covering your chin to the better part of your nose, is the title: The Mysterious Angel of Seoul.

Brows furrowed, you grab the magazine. Taehyung never mentioned anything about magazines, but you feel like you should have known. Your face is all anyone has been able to talk about all weekend. You can't even scroll through social media without someone mentioning you. Rolling up the magazine, you toss it into the trash bin behind your desk and take your seat.

“So–”

“We’re not talking about it.”

You don’t even spare Jackson a look as you log into your computer. You can feel them share a look before Jackson straightens up.

“It’s not about that,” he says, pausing to take a breath.

You chance a glance at the pair of them over your dual screens. They're still rigid, shifting their weight and sharing uncomfortable looks. You lean back in your seat to offer them your full attention, waiting for one of them to continue so you can get back to work.

“We’re actually not allowed to talk about… that,” Ethan clarifies, slightly nodding to the magazine. “Didn’t you get the email?”

Of course you did, and you’re certain it was Taehyung’s doing. But no email has ever stopped anyone from whispering about people before.

“That’s not the point,” Jackson cuts in before you can reply. “Um… Here’s the– So, the thing– uh…”

Face scrunched in confusion, you let out an exasperated sigh. You don’t have time for this. You have a million and one things to do and the last thing you need is Marina finding yet another reason to make your life miserable. You turn back to your computer and open the documents the marketing team had sent over a few minutes ago. With a few clicks, you send them over to the printer. Standing to gather your clipboard and pen, you turn to find Jackson and Ethan still stammering over their words.

“Look,” you cut in, “whatever it is, can it please wait until after the meeting?”

“It’s about the meeting,” Jackson tries again. “Lucas–”

“Yeah, where is he? I’m not prepping for this meeting by myself again,” you interject, already making your way to the copy room.

The two men follow behind you, trying to keep up with your fast strides. “He’s not an intern anymore,” Ethan informs.

You pause mid-step.

Jackson swallows thickly and Ethan rubs the back of his neck as you turn to face them.

“Did he quit?”

He must have quit. In fact– he better have quit. Because if he hadn’t, if he had been promoted to junior coordinator, you might break your stupid clipboard over his head and tear the conference room apart instead.

The guilty look on your friends’ faces confirms your suspicions. Ethan is the first to redirect his gaze to the floor. To his credit, he’s just some research assistant and doesn’t have much say in who gets promoted.

Jackson, however, is your supervisor. He’s well aware of the amount of work you put into every assigned task, no matter how meaningless it seems. He knows you’re the one that constantly picks up Lucas’s slack. You even correct his work. You don’t care much for Lucas’s success, but Marina tends to make his failures your own. So, you come in early to do your workload and half of his. You double check all his reports, emails and documents. You taste all the lattes he makes and often remake them yourself. He can barely pour a glass of water without it splashing all over the counters and floors. Jackson knows this, even witnessing it all himself. He could have stopped this, could have advocated for you.

He takes a step forward. You take one back, blinking back tears. You’re not upset– not sad, but rather angry.

Lucas should’ve used his fucking brain. Jackson should’ve used his fucking mouth. And Marina, with her imitating outfits and mocking tasks, should’ve used some fucking common sense.

“Our evaluation is not for another three months,” you mutter. It’s all you can professionally muster as your anger simmers deep in your chest. You bite back profanities, gritting your teeth to keep from screaming.

Jackson licks his lips. He meets your steel gaze with pity and replies, “I was informed about it this morning. I wanted to let you know before you read it in some email.”

So she’s here.

You look over Jackson’s shoulder to find Marina sitting in her office. You narrow your eyes at the striped black and silver blouse, and black pleated mini-skirt combo. She pairs it with charcoal grey, calf-high socks and velvet black heels. You internally roll your eyes at the replication of your outfit last week. She even has her blonde hair pulled back into a tight clipped bun. Her makeup is a complete copy of yours, from the soft smokiness of your eyes, the rosy highlight of your cheeks, to the pink gloss of your lips. She sits with one leg crossed over the other. Phone pressed to her ear, she stares at her screen.

She’s here, dressed just like you, and she was going to hide behind a fucking email. A good manager would call you into her office and inform you of the promotion herself. She would coach you and explain why the promised evaluation had been bypassed, why you did not receive the position. She would give you the space to ask questions, the resources to try and help you eventually work towards your own promotion.

However, Marina is as good a leader as she is a lover– bitter, vengeful and completely insecure.

It seems it is not bad enough that she has been feeding the press your personal information and embarrassing you in front of your colleagues. But now she’s hellbent on undermining you in front of the entire department. You know she wants to humiliate you, just like she did on your first day when she forced the entire floor to applaud you for the attention she thought you were seeking– over the colour of your outfit.

Her irrational, unprofessional and borderline psychotic behaviour stops now.

Handing the clipboard and pen to Jackson, you push between him and Ethan. They part their lips but you can’t hear anything. You are not interested in their pacifying words. You’ve heard it countless times before– Don’t test her. She’s not worth it. Just keep your head down. You’re tired of the same passive advice. It doesn’t make you feel any better, nor is it working. It doesn’t matter what you do or how you react to her abuse. Nothing will ever be enough for her.

You open the door without knocking.

She glances up at you, green eyes turning cold and uninviting.

Usually, you’d avert your gaze and yield to her superior position, respecting the hierarchy of your workplace. This time, you hold her glare and lock the door.

The tightness of her jaw wavers. She sits up in her seat, attempting to appear intimidating.

While she is around your height, she does not have your powerful frame. With narrow shoulders and hips, she barely makes a threatening impression. She lacks shape, not only your fullness. Perhaps, at one point in your life, that detail might have caused you to internally spiral, wondering if it was her smaller figure that drew Taehyung to her. However, you are thankfully not that person anymore. And the last thing you can ever imagine being, is jealous of Marina.

“Hang up.”

Marina raises a brow. Rolling her eyes, she laughs into her phone. “Yes, of course,” she says before shooing you away with a wave of her hand.

You reach her desk in two strides. Leaning over the cherry oak desktop, you press down on the switchhook, hanging up the call.

“What do you–”

“We need to talk.”

Your voice is tempered, but edged with bitterness. You suppress a smirk as she falls silent, her angry resolve wavering.

“You’re not promoting Lucas.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, Bo-peep,” she spits. Her tone carries resentment, but voice ever so slightly trembles.

Tonguing your cheek, you refuse to be baited by the stupid name and continue, “No one is getting this promotion. You will wait until the evaluation in three months and make your decision based on merit and management recommendation, as per protocol.”

Marina sits back in her seat, crossing her arms. She humorlessly laughs, the sound jagged and irritating– still, it lacks conviction. “Do you think you can just come into my office and order me around? You think because you made it on the cover of one stupid magazine that you’re untouchable? Let me remind you who is in charge here, sweetheart,” she seethes, leaning forward in an attempt to rob you of your space. "You are nothing but some slutty intern who got lucky. Don’t mistake that for power."

You smirk, shaking your head. “Do you think you can just continue to harass me and I won’t do anything about it? Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been up to the last couple of weeks with your meaningless tasks and constant manipulation? Three research assistants needed to reschedule follow-ups with their suppliers because you had me chasing an ex-employee all over the building the other day. And what did Lucas do, beside sit around and wait for me to hold his hand through a fucking photocopy?”

Marina swallows thickly. The vehemence in her green eyes falters. She shifts back into her seat, suddenly needing some distance.

“It’s one thing to release information about me, but another to completely fail to do your job as a manager out of pure spite. You have other members on this team that need your support and you’re here bitching because of a man. Get your priorities straight, sweetheart.”

She lets out a dry chuckle. “You think I was the one that told them you work here? Everyone knows you’ve been feeding them information yourself. You just love the attenti–”

“I can make one phone call,” you snap, cutting her off, “You’ll be fired within a minute and I’ll take your place within the next.”

The harshness of your tone silences her, but the possibility of your words rattles the mocking smile off her slim face. In reality, you are certain that one phone call to Taehyung won’t grant you her position, even if she did get fired. You would never attempt such a thing either. While you are bratty, you are not spoiled. You respect Taehyung enough not to put him in that position too. But, Marina doesn’t know that.

“You are only here because I am allowing it,” you continue. “So, here is what’s going to happen– You are not promoting Lucas, you will wait for the evaluation and you will base your final decision on professional merit. All that petty, personal bullshit ends now.”

Marina scowls but slowly nods.

You resist the urge to smirk. “Now,” you sigh, “Tell me to sit down.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Sit down.”

You take a seat, avoiding the stares of the entire department. You’ve felt their curious eyes on you the moment you stepped into her office. “Stand up and point your finger at me.”

Marina does so, still clueless as to what you are trying to do.

“Great. Now, tell me to go home.”

“Are you trying to weasel your way out of work again?”

Biting on the insides of your cheeks, you fight the urge to snap at her again. Through gritted teeth, you try to discreetly reply, “I am trying to help you save face. Now, get your head out of your ass and tell me to go home for the day.”

She tries and fails to hide the shock on her face. For a second, you think you catch the faintest glimpse of guilt in her eyes. But then she blinks and her usual annoyance overtakes her avian features.

“Go home,” she whispers. “Come back tomorrow with a better attitude.”

Pushing yourself up, you mutter, “You too.”

You avoid the cautious stares of your colleagues as you exit her office. Their eyes follow you, but you don’t acknowledge them as you head to your desk to gather your things. They whisper, scurrying around you, yet you remain unfazed. It seems your attempts at salvaging her reputation were successful if everyone’s content to talk about you, but not to you.

When the elevator doors on the fifteenth floor close behind you, you text your driver to meet you at the back exit—the same place he dropped you off earlier this morning. For the first time since you were hired, you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Mr Zhang stands by the black Rolls-Royce Ghost. An older man in his mid fifties, his posture is rigid and dependable. He carries a degree of composure that makes you want to stand straighter and be worthy of his presence. His silvery-blue eyes, the epitome of calm strength, shrink as he smiles at you. Dressed in a crisp black suit, matching long coat and a pair of shiny loafers, he walks towards you with an umbrella to shield you from the rain, even if you are merely three steps away from the car. You let him dote on you, knowing Taehyung must have ordered him to do so.

While he has only been chauffeuring you for a morning, you have learned that Mr Zhang has been driving Taehyung for about seven years. You were surprised to hear this, but as Mr Zhang explained how Taehyung would often spend his time working in the backseat, you assumed his need for a car service was probably required before he built his self-driving car.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as he opens the door for you.

“My pleasure, Miss ____,” he replies with a tender grin of his own.

You settle into the backseat with a gentle sigh. After buckling yourself up, you take in the interior all over again. You still cannot believe he accented the sleek black leather with gentle notions of pink. From the trimming of the seats, to the door pockets, to the seat belt button, Taehyug has customised the car to reflect your favourite colour. The ceiling is a beautiful replica of a starry night, only instead of silver, rose-white stars twinkle instead. Even the system lights are pink, the same shade EDEN switches to when she talks to you. And if he didn’t outdo himself already, he also made sure to stock the car with your favourite snacks and drinks. Mr Zhang encouraged you to take some with you before helping you out of the car earlier this morning.

“Where would you like to go, Miss___,” he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Can you please take me to the Bangtan Building?”

He nods, flashing you a fond smile as he shifts the car into drive.

One of your favourite things about the car, besides the celestial ceiling, is the fact that all the windows are tinted. You sit back, close your eyes, and allow yourself a moment of peace without the fear of being photographed or talked about, even if it is for a fleeting five minutes.

When the car slows down, you blink your eyes open. The first thing you notice is the absence of the steady pitter-patter of the rain against the car, the soft beat ceasing as Mr Zhang pulls into a garage. You sit up, looking out the window to find a collection of luxury cars neatly parked in several rows. You recognise two of them: Taehyung’s personal, sleek black car and the black Jeep he used the weekend you went to meet his family.

You wonder if this is possibly the sub-level of the Bangtan Building when Mr Zhang parks the car in front of an elevator. He circles around the back of the car to open your door for you. You tried to open it for yourself this morning when he dropped you off at work and received a gentle scolding.

“Thank you,” you murmur, accepting his hand as he helps you out.

Mr Zhang replies with a polite nod. He shuts the door and asks, “Would you like me to wait?”

“Um,” you hesitate, looking at the elevator as if it holds the answer. If Taehyung is free, Mr Zhang has no reason to stay and wait for you. But if not, then it would be best if he hung around for a few minutes, right?

You’re not even sure what you’re doing here. You can’t go back to work, you don’t want to spend another second locked in your apartment and it’s not like you can kill a couple of hours at a cafe or at a bookstore. You’re supposed to be keeping a low profile until this chaos about your identity gets buried by the next news spectacle.

The Bangtan Building feels like your only opinion.

“How about this,” Mr Zhang suggests, noticing your hesitation. “I will stay for ten minutes. But, if in eleven minutes you change your mind and decide to leave, I am a text message away.”

You let a small smile spread on your pink-glossed lips. Nodding, you thank him again and head towards the elevator. The car door opens and shuts as you look for the buttons only to realise it requires a keycard instead.

Digging through your purse for the pink pass Taehyung gifted you, you wonder if it will work here. It is an all-access authorization card, however this level of the building seems more personal than professional. Twirling the card between your fingers, you wonder if he will be upset that you’re trying to use it to access this elevator.

Maybe I should text him, you think, pulling out your phone by the pink and white charm that dangles from its matching case. You unlock it and stare at his name, wondering what you should even say. You know that if you ask him if he’s busy, he’ll tell you he’s not and demand to know what’s on your mind. He might be able to manage a few minutes away from his work to promptly answer a text. However, you doubt he has enough time to entertain you.

You sigh heavily, growing tired of the overthinking. You just want to see him, to be in his presence and let his musky, intoxicating cologne soothe your erratic heart. You want to hug him, to be engulfed in his warmth and feel his muscles flex under his clothes as he tightens his grip around you.

So, without a second thought, you toss your phone back into your purse and scan your card.

DING!

The elevator chimes, doors opening.

“Good morning, Angel,” EDEN greets.

You can’t help but smile at the familiar voice. “EDEN,” you reply through a breathy chuckle as you step in.

“Mr Kim is currently on the fitness and wellness floor. Would you like me to guide you there?”

You smile fondly at the speaker. “Yes please,” you nod before adding, “I’ve really missed you.”

“Should I send you a reminder of my capabilities, or would you prefer a more heartfelt digital hug instead?”

You laugh as the doors shut, the elevator whirling as it moves upwards. If you didn’t know she was created by Taehyung, that comment alone would have given it away.

Tone slightly teasing, you reply, “I suppose I can use a hug?”

“I sense you are mocking me,” EDEN responds. “Mr Kim says you enjoy teasing. As always, he is correct.”

You freeze.

“Taehyung talks about me?”

“Mr Kim often talks about you. He worries about you when you are at work. He says he cannot stand that you are miserable there.”

You know you shouldn’t ask, but your curiosity is louder than your conscience. Biting your lip, you twist your fingers nervously and whisper, “What else does he say about me?”

“He says you’re beautiful, Angel. More than that, though… he believes you’re precious—something to be protected.”

Swallowing thickly, you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself. A shaky exhale escapes as you ask, “He said that?”

“You sound confused. Would you like me to relay Mr Kim’s exact words?”

“Yes.”

“On numerous occasions, Mr Kim stated: Angel is beautiful, EDEN. She’s delicate and thoughtful, even after everything she has been through. She’s strong. She has a nasty attitude, but I like that she doesn’t yield to just anyone. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Taehyung doesn’t just talk about you, he dwells on you. He didn’t just tell her all this at once, but rather on numerous occasions. He went on and on about you to his AI system, telling her what he liked about you and how you’re one of a kind. There is a certain degree of reverence in his words, even when reiterated through EDEN. It’s as though he is revelling in your existence.

Your heart pounds so fast in your chest, you can feel the heavy beats in your throat. Gulping, you try to settle your nerves at the new revelation. He really does like you– or at least enjoys your company. All those times you thought you were bothering him, or worried he was obligated to reply based on the origins of your relationship were ignorant and short-sighted. You should have believed him when he told you that you could never annoy him with your messages.

“Would you like to hear more?”

“No,” you breathlessly reply.

You’ve invaded his privacy enough. In fact, you should probably try to erase this from EDEN’s history. If he finds out you’ve been snooping, he might not find you so charming and endearing anymore.

“Is there a way to delete this conversation?”

“Yes.”

You wait, hoping she will give you options. When she doesn’t, you ask, “Can you delete it then?”

“Unfortunately, only Mr Kim is authorised for this action. Would you like me to request his approval?”

Panic surges through you. “No!” you shout, worried that if you take too long to answer, she might ask him anyway. “Can you just not tell him about this conversation?”

“You are not authorised to lock information. However, it sounds like you would like me to omit this conversion from my communications with Mr Kim. Is this correct?”

You raise a brow at her words. Is she… finding you a loophole?

“Yes, that’s correct,” you confirm.

“Understood. The previous conversation will be omitted from future communications with Mr Kim.”

Fighting off a smile, you look up and tease,“EDEN, if I could kiss you right now, I would.”

“While I am flattered, Angel, I do value my job.”

You’re about to ask what she means, when the elevator dings again.

“I’ll leave you to your visit. Let me know if you require further assistance,” EDEN says.

The doors open to reveal an expansive gym. You step out of the elevator after thanking EDEN, heels softly clicking against polished concrete floors. To your right is a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that offer an impressive view of the city below. It’s not as breathtaking as the view from Taehyung’s office, but still looks beautiful. You imagine the sun flooding the space with light, wondering how peaceful it would be to come up here every morning and stretch under its golden warmth.

The sound of a distant, deep laugh draws your attention to the main section of the room. You cast your gaze over the row of state-of-the-art equipment–treadmills, ellipticals, and free weights all set up to accommodate any fitness routine– and catch a glimpse of three dark-haired heads by bench-presses. You immediately register one of them as Taehyung, his soft mullet easy to spot even from a distance.

The little smile playing on your pink glossed lips flatters at the sight of his board bare shoulder. He looks so strong and big. You suddenly miss being in his arms, whether you are being hugged or disciplined, you just want to be held against his strong frame and feel safe.

“So, who is she?” an unfamiliar asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Save your breath, Guk. I already tried.”

You tiptoe down the pathway, between treadmills and stationary bikes, straining your ears to catch Taehyung’s reply. A pang of guilt engulfs your conscience at your sneaky behaviour. You’ve already extracted more than enough information from EDEN. You don’t need to eavesdrop on his private conversations with his friends either.

But Taehyung is so… reserved. He doesn’t share his thoughts unless you bear your own to him first and you’re tired of the emotional drain of doing so. You just want to hear what he thinks of you, without the pressure of trying to comfort your insecurities or fulfil your desires. And talking about you to his AI is one thing, but talking to his friends….

That must mean something, right?

“Why are you being so secretive?” Guk presses, despite Taehyung’s silence. “I promise I won’t try to take her from you.”

“One more word, Jungkook, and I’ll make you lift this last set on your own,” Taehyung threatens.

His friends laugh, loud and giddy. You can imagine Taehyung’s small smile as he tries to maintain an annoyed look, but cannot resist the teasing comradery around him.

“Apparently, she’s precious,” the second voice chimes in again.

“I told you that in confidence.”

Taehyung’s voice is rough and deep, resonating within your bones even from a distance. You catch the slight notions of betrayal. The twinge of hurt in his tone triggers your guilt. It gnaws at you all over again. You shouldn’t have hidden your presence or attempted to violate more of his privacy. It’s bad enough you didn’t tell him you were coming over but you’ve also overheard more of his private conversations than he’d probably want you to.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” Jungkook asks.

“For like a second— she was sleeping in the back of the limo. Which reminds me,” the second voice says, a hint of conviction in his tone, “Are you ever going to tell me why I had to fire the driver?”

“Are we going to work out or continue to ask stupid questions?” Taehyung snaps.

His tone leaves no room for argument, yet Jungkook manages to find some. “That sounds like a stupid question,” he jokes.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing along with his friends. Rolling your shoulders back, you try to regain your composure. Perhaps this is a good place in their conversation to subtly announce your presence. Jungkook’s joke has diffused the tension enough to build your confidence and finally silence your conscience.

With a deep breath, you put one foot before the other and allow the rhythmic click-clack of your heels to echo in the now quieting room.

Taehyung peeks his head down the pathway, brown eyes distant and cold until they meet yours. A soft glow of recognition softens his gaze. Then it darkens, trailing up and down your voluptuous frame, taking in every curve, every roll. You notice his attention lingering around your swaying hips. A small smile tugs on his lips.

His gaze alone is often enough to rattle your senses, sending shivers down your spine. One look, and the world fades–every thought quiets, every doubt diminishes and you’re left with only his name burning on the tip of your tongue. However, when that intense gaze is paired with his bare, toned chest, you cannot breathe. Your steps falter as he makes his way towards you, black basketball shorts sitting low enough to expose the waistband of his briefs. Your eyes slowly fall down from his broad shoulders, to his buff pecs– where that celestial tattoo is inked, then drop to his taut abs.

Heat creeps up your neck and spreads across your cheeks as a wicked thought whispers– what would it be like to grind on them?

“Hey,” Taehyung greets, smile widening as he nears.

You blink out of your thoughts as he pulls you into a hug. His usual clean scent, a soothing blend of sage and crisp white tea leaves, is muskier from this sweat. His soft skin feels damp too, but you embrace him tightly all the same, letting his warmth and strength ground you. For the first time since your photo has gone viral, you release a heavy breath.

Sensing the tension in your posture, Taehyung holds you tighter. His fingers brush up and down your spine, relieving the tension from each vertebrate until you are a puddle in his arms. Then, after a few more seconds of peace and security, he slowly untangles himself from you.

Taehyung lowers himself a bit to properly meet your gaze. A teasing smile plays on his lips as he quietly asks, “Playing hooky again, sweetheart?”

The gentle tone of his velvety voice lights your nerves with giddiness. Your body buzzes with desire, and you can’t help giggling–especially when he calls you such intimate terms of endearment.

“Not exactly.”

Hope twinkles in his eyes. He raises a brow, standing back to his full height. “God, Angel, please tell me you quit,” he says.

You bite your lip, a guilty look settling upon your features.

Before you can properly explain, Jungkook’s loud voice carries in the empty gym.

“Is that her?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s hot.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, hearing such a shameless declaration from his friends startling you. While you don’t think you’re unappealing, you wouldn’t necessarily define yourself as ‘hot.’ You’re not sure what you were expecting from his friends but you can confidently say you didn’t anticipate them to be so… open. Taehyung often maintains a tough exterior and doesn’t let it soften for just anyone. His friends, who flash goofy smiles asTaehyung turns to glare at them, seem more comfortable speaking their minds, even when most are better left unsaid.

You look over Taehyung’s shoulder to get a better look at them. You do not recognise the taller one. In a tight, black tank top and shorts, he stands with most of his weight resting on his right side. His toned arms are covered in colourful tattoos. He winks at you, though his long hair slightly obscures his gaze. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him, turning your attention to the slightly shorter one.

He’s a bit thinner, but still just as ripped. Also shirtless, with the word nevermind inked across the right side of his body, he gracefully stands with his weight evenly distributed and hands in his pockets. You recognise his prominent, full lips and soft brown eyes from the ballet you attended a coupe of days ago. His earlier comment about the limousine driver suddenly starts to make sense.

Upon meeting your curious gaze, he offers a sweet smile and nods as a way of greeting.

“Can you give us a moment?” Taehyung asks.

The taller one, who you realise is Jungkook based on the sound of his voice, smiles, seemingly complacent before replying, “No.”

Without missing a beat, the shorter one adds, “So, you must be the girl Tae won’t shut up about.”

You raise a brow, feigning your surprise. A smile tugs on the corners of your lips, but you try to fight it off. You can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. He studies your reaction for a moment too long then finally turns back to his friends.

“Why does he always tell you– Why do you never tell me anything?” Jungkook complains. He furrows his brows and returns Taehyung’s half-hearted glare. “I’m always the last to know.”

“That’s cause I’m his favourite,” the shorter one teases.

You tilt your head up at Taehyung, whispering, “I thought Wooyoung was your favourite.”

Within seconds, Taehyung’s glare softens, twinkling with amusement as he looks down at you. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and you’re close enough to watch a droplet of sweat slide down his temple. Without thinking, you reach up, wiping it away with your thumb. He leans into your touch, his throat bobbing. You bite your lip, about to avert your gaze to the floor when he parts his lips to say something. You lean in, eager to hear the vibrations of his deep voice resonate down to your core.

“You met Wooyoung?”

Jungkook’s voice shatters your fragile bubble of closeness.

Blinking yourself back into reality, you take a small step away from Taehyung and turn to face his friends. “Um–” you start, cutting yourself off when you notice a shift in their demeanour.

Once foolish, their attitudes become serious, rooted in confusion or perhaps concern. You don’t have much time to decipher it before they share a look and, soon, knowing smiles.

“It’s not–” Taehyung starts only for Jungkook to fearlessly cut him off.

“You’re his girlfriend,” he states through a chuckle.

You stiffen at his emphasis on the label. “We’re just friends,” you correct, ignoring the sting of that truth all over again. Keen on changing the subject, you step forward with an outstretched hand and introduce yourself.

“Jimin. Jungkook,” Taehyung quickly says, pointing to each one as they shake your hand. “And they were just leaving.”

“No–”

“Yes.” Taehyung hisses, silencing Jungkook.

His friends share an annoyed look, attention flickering back at you for a moment. Jimin sucks in his cheeks while Jungkook’s tongues his and scratches the back of his neck.

You awkwardly shift your weight, crossing your arms over your chest. Regret twists in your gut and you find yourself wishing you hadn’t come. You should have told him you wanted to see him before showing up here. Instead, you let your fear of rejection overrule your mind. You bite your lip as shame heats your face. He just wanted to hang out with his friends– they were having such a great time before you arrived. And now a blanket of thick tension settles over the room as they try and fail to silently convey their disagreement with not only Taehyung’s decision, but his tone.

“Fine,” Jungkook finally sighs. As he grabs his water bottle and walks by Taehyung, he adds,“I want details later.”

Jimin pushes Jungkook along, with a chuckle. “Don’t be gross,” he half-heartedly chastises.

You stifle your own laughter with a bite of your lip, earning an amused look from Taehyung. He pulls you towards his chest as the elevator dings and his friends' voices eventually fade.

Once he is sure they are gone, he dips his head into the crook of your neck and presses soft, wet kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Finally,” he groans against your throat, then drags his tongue up to your jaw.

You lean your head back. A breathless gasp escapes you when he kisses his way back down your neck to graze his teeth against your collarbone. You clutch onto his strong biceps, feeling them flex under your touch. With a quiet moan, you arch your back and push your full chest against his.

Taehyung groans in reply. His hands slide down from your waist to your rear. He grabs handfuls of your cheeks, kneading your supple fat like a stress ball. His nose nestles up into the space between your jaw and ear, then he whispers, “You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you?”

You know you should tell him to stop. You should explain what happened at work, what you have been seeing online and how suffocating it feels to be locked in your apartment all weekend. Instead, all you can manage is an eager nod and a strained whine as he smacks one of your cheeks and nibbles on your earlobe.

Trembling, your knees almost give out. Taehyung holds you tighter to keep you from losing your balance. It seems to pull him out of whatever feral state he was previously in. The tenderness in his eyes is so overwhelming, it stirs a quiet ache deep within you. Fraught and breathless, a fragile moan falls from your pouty lips.

“Trying to spoil me,” he teases, rubbing your back.

Your brows furrow, pout prominent as you peer up at him in confusion.

His smile widens. Nudging your nose with his own, he asks,“What did I do to deserve your company this morning, Angel?”

Your face is so hot, you’re certain he can feel the heat radiating off your skin. You try to fight off a smile, but he holds you tighter and you can’t deny your heart the satisfaction of giving into him. “Things got complicated at work, but I worked it out and gave myself the day off,” you explain in the steadiest voice you can muster. Running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you continue, “I didn’t want to go home yet though. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, princess,” he reassures. “You’re welcome whenever, you know that.”

He has told you that countless times over text, but you always thought he was just being polite. You’re starting to realise that you should’ve known better. Taehyung never says anything he doesn’t mean– especially not for the sake of being polite.

As his words settle in, your hands instinctively slide up and down his biceps. They’re so big, barely fitting in your grip. The solid strength beneath your fingers draws your attention, and before you can stop yourself, you squeeze. He flexes in response, and you gasp.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You playfully glare up at him. He never misses an opportunity to tease you, deep voice dripping in condescension. The urge to tease him back is strong, and you find yourself having to bite your tongue to keep from spewing your most disrespectful remarks– like how he pushed his friends out as quickly as possible to get a chance to touch you. It would be so easy to rile him up, to trigger his unyielding dominance. Instead, you opt for a tamer response. Or, you at least try to, unable to completely subdue your snarky tone.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” you ask, echoing his words. You squeeze his arms again, cinching a moan in the base of your throat.

Taehyung leans his head back to get a better look at you. His eyes darken, mischief shifting to authority. With a lick of his lips, he adjusts his grip to your hips and holds you steady.

“I think you like touching me like this.”

“Way to answer the question, genius.”

“Is this you flirting?” he smirks. A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest and resonates deep in your core.

You press your legs, clenching your jaw as your face flushes. “Do you ever get tired of mocking me?” you ask, slightly raising your voice.

Taehyung tongues his cheek. A hint of quiet challenge flashes in his gaze, but he stifles it, likely giving you a chance to correct your attitude on your own. You swallow thickly and resist the urge to sink into his hold all over again.

“Do you ever get tired of drooling over me?” he questions.

You’re about to tell him not to flatter himself, surely earning a swift spank but he caresses your chin. Using his thumb, he gently wipes the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth. He then brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean.

You gape up at him, lips quivering.

He fiercely maintains your gaze, holding your chin again, and leans forward. “How come every bit of you always tastes like desperation?” he whispers, feigning curiosity. When you don’t answer, voice shackled in awe and submission, he tightens his grip and hisses, “Do you want daddy’s help?”

“Yes, daddy,” you immediately murmur, nails digging into his muscular biceps.

“Beg for it,” he orders. “Tell me what you want.”

His voice is so husky and raw, you can’t help the roll of your eyes as it vibrates through your body. Your arousal pools between your thighs, panties clinging to your folds as you squirm and whine. Your attention drifts down to his broad chest, lingering on the intricate tattoo, before settling on his tight abs. Your shaky hands follow the heated trail of your gaze, moving up from his biceps to his shoulders, down his pecs and finally finding their place on his stomach.

“I–” you start only to cut yourself off.

Just like when you asked to ride his thigh, your body burns with desire, but you can’t find the words to voice your fantasy. You can see the image so clearly in your mind– he’s lying on his back and you’re straddling his waist. Hands steady on his chest, you drag your wet folds against his abs. But to vocalise it, all needy and weak, feels somewhat embarrassing. Is this normal? Is this something people do– rub themselves against someone’s stomach?

Taehyung tilts your head by the grip on your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze again. “What do you want?” he asks, gentler this time.

“I don’t know how–”

“Yes, you do,” he whispers. “Tell me.”

Furrowing your brows, you internally groan. While a part of you is glad he’s not willing to let this go, you’re still worried you might sound stupid. What if he gets turned off by your request, or worse– what if he thinks less of you?

You part your lips, about to tell him you just want his fingers when you notice the intensity of his gaze. He stares at you with such deep certainty, like you are the only thing grounding him to this moment. Your doubts diminish under their sincerity.

“I want to grind on your abs,” you confess before you can second guess yourself again.

A throaty, rough groan sounds in response. Your knees buckle and Taehyung pulls you closer by the arm wrapped around your waist.

He… likes that?

“Say please,” he orders.

And now he wants you to beg for it. Your breath hitches and you search his eyes for a hint of mockery or mischief, but only seem to find desire.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, shifting your grip from his waist to his shoulders. Your long, blush pink nails dig into his soft skin as he backpedals towards the bench-press. “Please let me ride your abs. I’ve been trying to be good.” Your voice wavers with desperation, much to his amusement.

“I know you have, princess,” he mutters, pecking the tip of your nose. Slowly detaching himself from you, he nods towards your hips and orders, “Take those off.”

You step out of your heels immediately. Hiking up the tight skirt of your dress, you hook your thumbs in the waistbands of your tights and thong, then tug them down your legs. You quietly gasp at the brush of friction it causes, biting your lip.

From his place by the weighted bar, Taehyung snaps his attention back at you. He watches your garments roll into each other as he lifts the heavy bar resting over the bench. You pause with your tights off one leg, gawking at the flex of his biceps, the veins that protrude along his forearms. His gaze meets yours and he winks, like he isn’t carrying a massive amount of weight in his hands.

Your core clenches, clit throbs reminding you of your desire. Swallowing thickly, you hastily return to your task and yank the remainder of your tangled tights off.

Taehyung sets the bar down with practised ease, thumbing his nose with a little sniffle.

You nervously clutch the hem of your short dress, thick thighs tightly pressed together to relieve the tension between them.

He smiles at your shy posture, taking a seat on the edge of the bench. “Come here,” he softly beckons with a nod.

You obey, reaching him in no more than two steps.

A teasing smile plays on his lips. Stationing his hands on your hips, he maintains your gaze and presses a gentle kiss against the curve of your stomach. “You’re so cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, then kisses your hands on the hem of your dress.

You tremble under his delicate touch.

His attention snaps up to your face again and his gaze is a dark abyss of feral desire. Licking his lips, he looks ready to devour you.

You open your mouth to ask if he’s okay, but he lies back against the bench, gesturing you to mount his waist with a causal wave of two fingers.

You don’t need to be told twice, eagerly straddling him. Needy tears prick your eyes as you press your slick folds against the ridges of his stomach. A strangled whine tears through your throat, and you attempt to steady yourself by pressing your hands against his chest. Your clit is aching for stimulation, but you hesitate to put all your weight on him.

Taehyung gently soothes you with soft shushes, gripping onto your hips. “Take a seat, Angel,” he encourages.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Sit.”

You seat yourself on him without another word.

His back slightly arches, as if responding to your full weight with a desire for more.

You tremble at the pressure, sinking your nails into his strong pecs. Your hips start to move on their own, slow and unsure. You assumed it would feel good, your heat, all wet and sticky, gliding against his soft skin. But the lines of his abs, sturdy and tight, add a layer of texture that causes your toes to curl and eyes to roll.

“Oh, god,” you cry as your thrusts gain some confidence. “D-daddy!”

Taehyung groans beneath you, his stomach rising and falling against your fervent hips. He shifts your dress even higher to watch your pussy move.

“That’s it, baby, just like that…” he whispers, trailing off with a quiet hiss under his breath.

Your vision blurs with desperation. You’ve never been this needy for him before, your walls clenching, longing for the familiar stretch of his fingers. It’s just the act of claiming his body this way, sitting on such an unconventional part of him, a part you’re sure none of the others have sat on, and using it–using him–to get yourself off.

And he encourages you to do so, helping you with your thrusts and guiding you towards a faster pace by the rough hold on your hips. His jaw is clenched tight, attention captivated by the slick sounds of your wetness rubbing against him.

“You feel so g-good,” you moan, dragging your nails down his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses when you scratch his nipple.

Your eyes round at the slight tremor in his voice. Hips still grinding steadily under his guidance, you thumb his right nipple and watch him bite his lip. He meets your gaze and you expect to receive a silent warning. Instead, he gazes up at you with… adoration?

“I can’t take this,” he growls, shoving your hips down to his crotch.

You’re about to whine, furrowing your brows and nudging his shoulder in protest at the lack of contact, when his clothed cock presses between your folds.

Taehyung sits up and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap around your waist and you cannot sit still another moment longer. Your hips shift forward and back, slow and hesitant. You don’t want to receive a scolding for not asking for permission, but holy fuck you need to do something, anything.

“Keep going,” he whispers against your jaw. “Faster, Angel.”

It’s all the encouragement you need. Running your hands through his hair, you gently tug at the ends to ground yourself against his hard, throbbing cock. Your legs are already shaking, entire body quaking in his arms as you snap your hips as fast as you can against him. You know you are no match for his speed but the friction stimulates your clit all the same. You can already feel your gut tighten and knot, orgasm building from the impression of his thickness.

You didn’t come here for this. You didn’t plan to get lost in his touch, or be on the verge of crying for his attention. You just wanted a new place to escape and recharge. You wanted his comfort, sure– but his cock was not the goal.

So, why the fuck are you salivating at its thickness, at the fact that it barely fits between your folds? Why are you scratching at his back, biting your lip to keep yourself from begging him to let you feel it against you, unclothed and raw? Why are you on the brink of shattering at the mere thought of it?

You promised yourself you’d set more boundaries and you really do have every intention of doing so. But… Taehyung is just so magnetic, so alluring. You cannot stop yourself from craving him. And what were you supposed to do when you walked out of that elevator and saw him shirtless? How could you really expect yourself not to get distracted?

“You’re doing so good,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Quick study, huh?”

You cannot hold back a giggle at his teasing tone. Pride blooms in your chest at his words and you find yourself putting a bit more force into your thrusts in response. “I learned from the best,” you moan.

Taehyung chuckles darkly in your ear, hot breath sending a wave of shivers right down to your core. Your smile falters and you tighten your core to keep from releasing, a loud moan tearing from your throat. The rippling vibrations of his laughter almost put you over the edge, but you know if you cum now without his permission, you will receive a harsh punishment– the denial of a future orgasm.

“I need to cum,” you whimper.

“So?”

Your eyes roll from the coldness of his tone, and for a second you think you might just let go, but you hold onto your release even tighter, tensing up in his arms.

Taehyung is relentless. Noticing the hesitance of your hips, he grinds up into you, faster than you have ever been able to move. He’s testing you, pushing you further towards the edge.

“Please,” you cry, tears finally splitting, rushing down your face. “I-I can– Daddy, please! Please!”

“Please what?” he coos, the mocking tone not doing you any favours.

You part your lips to give him what he wants, to scream for his permission but you cannot hold back any longer. Your orgasm ripples through your shaking body. You throw your head back, almost falling off his lap as you squeal and gush all over his shorts. Eyes rolling, jaw slack, you can feel yourself drooling, but cannot be bothered to care when he’s still thrusting.

While your mind feels foggy, blood rushing to your head and muffling your ears, you still catch his whispered profanities. Suddenly, his hips jut forward with renewed force before tensing. You feel a bout of warmth between your folds as he growls your name.

A shuddering sigh falls from your gloss-smeared lips as you lean forward. You rest your head against his shoulder, limp and exhausted as your pussy still clenches sporadically. You should feel ashamed for abandoning your decision to keep things professional, but all that fills your thoughts is the aftershock of his touch, the overwhelming ache of your body still quivering from the intensity of a delayed orgasm. His name lingers on your tongue and you cannot deny how sweet it tastes. Even as you try to gather yourself, willing some semblance of strength back to your legs, your body betrays you, leaning into his warmth.

You want to apologise for losing control, but the words don’t come, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re too far gone or because deep down, you don’t want to. Because right now, it’s just you and Taehyung, panting and clinging onto each other.

Because right now, you feel whole.

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts v #v smut #v x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #taecember 2024

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canmom · 7 months ago

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Animation Night 189: Nonphotorealistic

There is a funny trend in animation-related terminology to define things by what they aren't. Animation is any technique for creating film that isn't live action. Limited animation is any style of 2D animation that doesn't follow the conventions of Disney's 'full animation' on 1s and 2s - a category that includes a wildly diverse range of approaches and techniques, as this wonderful history by Animation Obsessive describes.

In 3DCG circles, there is a similar term: nonphotorealistic. Which describes, naturally, anything that isn't trying to look like a photograph of a real scene. There has been a real boom in this of late, and just like the other terms, it really doesn't narrow it down very much. Other terms like 'hybrid animation' add a bit more hints.

Of course, if you've been anywhere near animation in the last few years, you'll probably know another term: 'Spiderverse style'.

There is no denying that Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (2018) by Sony Pictures Animation was an absolute landmark for animation. (I wrote about it way back on AN21, focusing more on the cultural angle.) The ludicrously stylish film pretty much set the direction for animation in the 2020s - making a bunch of money and awards and thus finally throwing open the door to 3DCG animation that doesn't look like the style set by Pixar/Dreamworks in the 2000s. Its sequel, Across the Spiderverse (2023), was even more ambitious and successful (despite a troubled production involving a lot of needless crunch). We'll be showing that soon in a Spiderverse double bill so look forward to it!

So perhaps not surprising that when people see the use of graphical styles, 2D elements, limited framerates and the like in 3DCG these days, Spiderverse comes to mind. In its wake have come various films and series that apply these and related techniques: 3DCG animation is more varied than ever, and it's cool.

It isn't really a style, tho.

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Here I'm indebted to youtuber Camwing who has made a nice video overview breaking down the animation of recent movies in this vaguely defined paradigm. Among them we have The Mitchells vs the Machines (2021, also Sony), Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022, Dreamworks), and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem (2023, animated at the French/Canadian studio Mikros animation), and of course over on Netflix you got the wildly popular League of Legends spinoff series Arcane (2021, Fortiche Productions), and the romance film Entergalactic (2022, DNEG), tying in with an album of the same name.

None of these films has exactly the same style, but they all pull from a related bag of tricks. The core techniques are animating on reduced framerates for a 'snappy', high-clarity feeling, the combination of 2D and 3D elements in some fashion, and taking inspiration from traditional media such as paintings or comic books.

For example, Arcane and Entergalactic both use the trick of 2D backgrounds/projecting paintings onto 3D geometry, inhabited by 3D characters with a stylised shader. Arcane is dripping with 2D visual effects. Puss in Boots drops the framerate during its action scenes - the opposite of the old paradigm of full animation, where fast actions would get more frames. Spiderverse draws 2D expressions onto its 3D models to push them further, and is full of all kinds of colourful stylised rendering - screentone effects, kirby dots, outlines, the works.

It's tempting to link this to 2D-in-3D animation, and certainly many of these films apply this technique - this is the major niche where Blender has found its way into industry pipelines. But using 2D isn't mandatory to count here. For example, TMNT Mutant Mayhem has an incredibly striking storybook-painting style, accomplished largely by clever shader work and a strong sense of graphic design. Genndy Tartakovsky's canned 2014 Popeye project was planning to use a ton of 2D-style posing and squash-and-stretch, accomplished largely with rigged 3D models. There are many paths to take!

And mind you, I haven't even covered one of the biggest angles here. Search for nonphotorealistic 3DCG on Youtube and what you'll probably find most is information about cel-shading - aka 'anime style'. This has also advanced considerably in the last few years, with the techniques pioneered by Arc System Works in Guilty Gear such as editing the normals of characters for more precise control over shading, and minute adjustments to break up the mechanical feeling of 3D, becoming widely copied in both games and films. (And particularly, animated porn.)

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Vtubers in particular have really run with this technique, generally speaking using cel-shaded models with edited normals, inverted eyes, etc. etc. to try and get the feeling of an anime character come to life. [You can see a lot of these state of the art techniques if you download Pixiv's free VRoid Studio software and import the model into Blender using the VRM plugin.]

Naturally this kind of cel-shaded approach has found a particular home in Japan. In anime, the biggest champions of it are certainly Studio Orange, whose hybrid approach involves planning out shots with 2D animation before matching them with the rigs. We've covered their adaptation of Houseki no Kuni in great detail on Animation Night 97; their Trigun reboot was perhaps even more popular. But cel-shaded techniques, 3D previs and the like have also made their way into big films like Eva 3.0+1.0 (AN66).

Although this type of rendering aims to recreate the look and feel of 2D animation as much as possible, it always ends up being something new: character models that would be too complex to draw, an ease to 3D movements and camerawork that would be challenging in 2D, and generally a new hybrid style. This is good! 2D animation is already very good at being 2D animation - it's fascinating to see what 3DCG becomes with that inspiration.

So with that brief overview, where does that take us tonight?

I'm not quite ready to do a Spiderverse double bill tonight, so instead the plan is to check out a couple of recent American franchise films that are taking on the new suite of techniques. I've mentioned them up above, but let me introduce them more fully here.

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish is a sequel to a fairly unpopular spinoff about a side character of the Shrek franchise (AN75). Not, on its face, very promising - which is why it is all the more striking that I was told on all sorts of sides that I must watch this movie. I'm finally going to make good on that.

The title character is a kind of feline musketeer type, now facing the end of his swashbuckling career as he's lost 8 of his 9 lives. Not wanting to hang up his hat, he goes on a quest to restore them. What makes it stand out its the action scenes, which go all in on the anime-influenced, extreme perspective and lighting, limited framerate style that we're discussing above. Apparently it looks sick as shit.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem is a fresh reboot of the venerable TMNT franchise, which pretty much describes itself in the title: four turtles (named after Renaissance painters, of course!) live in a sewer as ninjas, led by their aging master who is a rat. Starting as a comic book, it became one of the iconic toyline-driven TV shows of the 80s - but it's still going! Indeed, Turtles has been on a roll of late (at least going by animator scuttlebutt), with Australian studio Flying Bark Productions turning a lot of heads with their neo-Kanada School style (and for really stretching the definition of 'storyboard').

This new film takes a different approach to the bombastic action of Rise. It focuses on a new origin story for the turtles, telling a kind of coming of age story - but what makes it unique is the animation style and cinematography. Cinéma vérité is not a phrase you really expect to be associated with ninja turtles, but the film seems to really go all out in a way you wouldn't really expect from a franchise movie, shooting the young turtles in a handheld style and focus heavily on character. Marcel Reinhard's shader work, allowing the animators to isolate lights to specific objects and characters and introducing graphical elements of cross-hatching, stippling, etc. etc. to the lighting, gives it a uniquely painting-like feeling, augmented by a lot of 2D creativity in lighting and effects.

Turtles has never really been my thing, but this film looks unique enough that I really want to see it - and I hear it's a good film too.

So that's our bill for tonight! Puss and Turtles. Let's see what the big studios have been cooking of late...

Animation Night 189 will be starting around 10pm UK time (roughly three hours hence) and carrying on til about 2-3am same! We'll be on twitch.tv/canmom as usual. Hope to see you there!

#animation #animation night #Youtube

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wordsarelife · 6 months ago

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⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 05: i think he did it but i just can’t prove it

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: you and theo go to the ball of the nocturne society and find out more about the dark magical artifact

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of murder, illegal activities, underage drinking and smoking of weed, mentions of intoxication, mentions of stabbing

note: welcome back to the fifth episode of nbnc! i’m so excited to have you all back!! sorry it arrived a bit later than promised, didn't have the time to finish it sooner, but i hope a little sooner than usual is still good. check beneath the tags for a little surprise!!

please let me hear what you think in the comments!!

“okay” you muttered, still staring at the place malfoy had last stood. “what do we do now?”

theo sighed, glancing at the paper in his hand. “we still have that invitation” he shrugged.

“you seriously wanna go in there?” you asked baffled “after everything malfoy just told us?”

“well, if they’re onto us, we better try to find out more” theo noted. “i’d rather know who i’m facing than sit around and wait for them to get me first”

“good point” you finally agreed after a few beats of silence. you adjusted your mask.

theo looked at you, waiting. “ready?”

“ready” you nodded.

theo spoke the latin code word from the paper. aetema iuventa. eternal youth. the portrait swung open, revealing a hallway filled with green lanternts that hung above your heads. the entry to the party was closed by another door that flew open when theo’s hand touched it.

you weren’t ready for what you saw. everyone was dressed in similar festive clothing, just like theo and you. but the ball was everything else but that.

the location was beautiful. a big dance floor, surrounded by tables with food and drinks, a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling that rattled to the beat of the music. you bet those diamonds were real.

though the location fit the theme of a ball perfectly, the behaviour of the guests did not.

a couple was making out against the wall next to you, a few people were licking salt from each others bodies, while a few were snorting something that looked an awful lot like cocaine at the very end of the room.

“i thought most of the slytherins had gone home” you noted, swerving to the side, right before a drunk and masked man got to take you down with him.

“it might’ve looked like that” theo agreed. “but many stay for the holidays and let the houseelves bring them dinner”

“that’s possible?”

“only if your parents are heavy financers of the school, i guess”

“hm” you nodded, following him to a table filled with drinks. “well, it’s a bit more scandalous than i would’ve thought” you muttered, watching people run to the dance floor when the first few notes of ‘you know you like it’ broke through the boxes.

the music was electrifying and drowned out every bit of fear in your body.

“good evening” a voice broke your gaze away from the dancing people. theo looked up too.

a girl was standing in front of you. she was wearing a black dress with dark green details along her chest. it almost looked like a wedding dress photographed with a black and white filter. her black hair was styled in a beautiful updo, definitely with magic. you were sure not even a hairdresser could style their own hair so beautifully.

the girls mask was in the same colour as her dress — a mix between black and green — as her dark brown eys studied both theo and you “hello pansy” you greeted.

her eyes widened, as suprised flooded them. “and you are?” pansy parkinson asked with a hint of distrust in her voice at the sudden exposure.

“y/n and theo” theo intervened quickly, not liking the edge in the way she was talking to you.

“potter, huh?” pansy crossed her arms, the fabric of her dress flowing around her elbows, as she quirked a brow at your greeting. “you’re smarter than you look, love”

you ignored her, as your eyes wandered behind the girl, staying on mattheo, who was wearing a mask too, but his smug smile was the biggest giveaway in the world. “what did i tell you, pansy?” he said “she lives up to her boyfriend’s expectations, right theo?”

“um” you muttered, knowing fully well, that theo and you had not discussed anything related to your relationship status.

theo was more relaxed than you, answering before you could make a fool out of yourself. “of course”

both mattheo and pansy smiled in satisfaction, while your cheeks turned rosy. “would you like a drink, y/n?” pansy asked with a sudden kindness “i’m allowed to call you y/n, yeah?”

“sure” you shrugged, not feeling like you had any right to forbid her whatsoever. “can i have one glass of this?” you pointed at a green colored bowle that honestly looked like it was the least alcoholic thing from the table.

pansy complied, putting down the drink she had poured for herself and filled a little glass with the green liquid.

behind your back, mattheo and theo were eagerly discussing something that didn’t reach your ears, due to the loud music — right now, the bridge of ‘you don’t own me’ was jumpin through the room, rattling the chandelier — but theo’s hand was gripping your waste, unconsciously assuring his presence.

“here you go” pansy held the drink in your direction, you welcomed the glass, drinking a sip and scrunching your face at the horrible taste.

“is this your first slytherin party?” pansy asked as she giggled at your expression of disgust.

“it’s my first cult party, if you mean that”

pansy rolled her eyes. “the nocturne society is not a cult”

“no, you’re right” you nodded sarcastically “it’s just a very tight knit group of friends, how did i miss that before?”

“okay” pansy breathed. “some of the members might confuse it with one” she nodded to the a group of three people, who were eagerly trying to hex tattoos of the nocturne society’s coat of armour onto their hands.

“cults are dangerous, even if not everyone believe it is one”

“cults are dangerous, murder is bad, i know” pansy muttered, before she downed the rest of her drink “we’re no saints, but we ain’t killers either”

“maybe you aren’t”

“yeah, maybe” pansy nodded, deep in thought, her eyes wandering along the people around you. “just be careful, theo he—“ she paused, unsure if she should really finish the sentence, before she finally sighed, a soft smile on her lips, “he really likes you”

“i really like him too”

pansy squeezed your hand in a reassuring manner, sending you a look that told you again to be cautious, before she held up her arm, waving for mattheo to follow her.

mattheo quickly excused himself from his discussion with theo, following pansy through a crowd of people, your eyes quickly losing them.

“what was that all about?” theo asked as soon as they had disappeared.

“i could ask you the same” you smiled michievously, taking another sip from your drink, before you finally decided it was too strong and put it down again.

“i don’t trust them” theo shook his head, worry wandering over his face.

“i thought mattheo was your friend?”

“it’s not just him, it’s this whole society. how are they involved? mattheo and i always got along, yes, but i’ve always managed to stay out of his dubious plans”

“did he tell you anything useful?” you asked, not trying to discuss the future of mattheo and theo’s friendship here and now. “did he find out anything about the artifact”

“actually, yes” theo nodded, his gaze wandering into the crowd of people behind your back.

“what is it?” you wondered, turning around and searching the people for a familiar person.

“come on” theo motioned for you to follow him. “i think i just found someone who could help us”

he took your hand in his, dragging you a through a crowd of people. in the middle of the dancefloor, the music was somehow louder, wrapping you in a thick bubble, where the only thing you were feeling was theo’s touch. you grabbed his hand tightly, scared to lose him between this many people.

you feared that once you would lose him, you were caught. you were sure that this whole party was magically manipulated, as to make it harder to leave. you noticed the mission theo and you had set, slipping to the back of your mind anytime the beat hit and the chandelier above you rattled.

theo stopped when you reached a corner across the room from the table with the drinks. a guy in a suit was busy rolling himself a cigarette. his suit looked like it was made out of couch cushions, the soft material crunching at any move he made. you noticed it was dark green, but so dark that it almost looked black.

his hair was slightly curled, dark brown and messily decorated his head. he looked up at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“enzo?” theo asked.

you only recognized the boy now. he looked a lot more comfortable and relaxed when he was hiding behind a mask.

it seemed that your company only confused enzo or you were sure he had recognized his friend sooner. “theo?” he finally asked, after he had searched the masked face in front of him. “and?”

“y/n” you quickly answered, smiling at his expression, when he sighed in relief.

“what are you doing here?” even though it was not far to assume, enzo sounded nothing but nice as he send you a smile, surprised at your unexpected presence at this party.

“theo brought me along” you said simply, not feeling in the mood to explain the real reason why you had come, so you put it simpler: “we wanted to ask you something, about the artifact”

“oh” enzo pushed the finished cigarette into the pocket of his trousers. “the artifact?” he questioned, his voice losing a bit of it’s confidence.

“do you know anything about it?” theo asked

“well, it’s not been dealt like a secret, not as much as it should've been at least” he shrugged, before he looked around, checking for any unwanted listeners. “blaise, he’s in the room behind this door” he nodded at the wall behind you, “he knows more about it”

“thank you” you smiled honestly, trying to calm the worry on his face.

“but please don’t get careless” enzo pleaded. “i heard it’s pretty dangerous and i’ve kept out of it for the most part. but a few people were absolutely obsessed with it. too obsessed to still care about anything else”

“we know it can be dangerous” theo muttered, not impressed by the warning.

“you don’t understand, theo” enzo shook his head, more urgency in his tone now. “it’s soul shattering. you lose a part of yourself with it. it makes you become something you wouldn’t have imagined in your worst nightmare. it could even get you to hurt a person you loved” his eyes wandered between theo and you. “love. it’s like a trigger”

“we’ll be careful, i promise” you put a hand on enzo’s shoulder, assuring your promise.

theo and you excused yourselves, walking in the direction of the door. enzo watched after you, taking out th cigarette from his pocket. “they should’ve never brought it here” he muttered, but you were too far away to still hear him.

the door enzo had guided you to was surprisingly easy to open. you had thought the room behind it was special, granting it a higher security than the party itself.

the opposite was the case. the room was full of smoke, to the brim. theo and you inhaled a large amount when it wandered in your direction.

“woah” a voice called and with a move of a wand, most of the smoke was gone. blaise zabini was laying on a red velvet couch, a blunt in his hand and surrounded by various people. he was bare chested and only still wearing the trousers of his suit. his shoes and socks were gone too.

there was a thin layer of sweat on his dark skin and his eyes and lips were redder than normal.

“theodore nott” he recognized immediately. “where have you been all this time?”

it slowly became clear that theo really was an outsider in his friendgroup, considering all of them seemed to be regular members of those secret parties.

“and accompanied by y/n potter, if my eyes don’t trick me?” blaise now asked, sitting up and waving you both inside. “get lost” he told the others. the room quickly cleared out and theo closed the door, ensuring that your conversation was kept private.

“does this even lead to something?” you asked, pointing a hand in blaise’s direction. “i mean he’s higher than a kite”

"and yet sharp as a blade" theo replied with a smirk, glancing back at blaise "don’t let his state fool you”

blaise rolled his eyes, leaning back casually “higher than a kite, maybe, but i’m still seeing straight enough to know when i've got a legend in my midst. hey ace!”

“ace?” you repeated confused.

“you don’t get to be the reason for blaise zabini making it through divination class without earning yourself a praising nickname” theo shrugged. “he’s been calling you that ever since”

“you copied my answers?” you asked, a bit of surprise stinging in your voice.

“pretty obvious question, huh?” blaise shrugged. he made a motion for both theo and you to sit down on the couch next to him. “so tell me, what can old blaise do for someone like ace potter, hm?”

“this is weird” you muttered, but followed his request, before theo and you explained what you were searching for and why.

while you were talking, blaise nodded along, expertly rolling another blunt, before he lit it up, unintentionally breathing the smoke in your direction.

your nose was fillled with the smell of weed and there was no escape in the small room.

“i’m sorry” blaise said when theo asked him to put out the blunt. “i need this or i won’t be able to think straight”

“okay” you nodded, putting a calming hand on theo’s knee, who you felt was ready to discuss the matter. “then let’s not waste any time. what can you tell us about the artifact?”

“it didn’t work” blaise shrugged, “it was useless basically. just a dust catcher if you ask me”

“we heard different things from enzo”

“well, i’m sure it’s pretty dangerous once you find out how it’s activated” blaise muttered. “but we didn’t. no one could use it, it was impossible to crack. nothing we tried worked”

“what did you do with it?”

“nothing”

“what do you mean ‘nothing’?” you almost laughed, his answer confusing you.

“we kept it in the hope that we would find out what we could use it for. it’s in the cushion behind you.”

theo quickly sat up straight, not wanting to disturb or destroy the artifact by leaning against it.

“professor burbage suspected that i had stolen it. she confronted me before she died. but it was weird, really” blaise’s mind wandered off, as he let the rest of the sentence hang in the air unfinished.

“what? why?”

“well, for starters: she didn’t even want to have it back” blaise shrugged. “she was acting strange altogether. she made me promise to be careful, but i think she wanted me to keep it and try to use it further”

“why would a teacher want a student to keep a dangerous dark magical object? that doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” theo mumbled.

“well it doesn’t, unless she—“ you paused, thinking for a second before you finally finished the sentence. “unless she didn’t know how to use it herself”

“you could be right” theo nodded, his eyes widened. “we never found out how burbage got it into her hands in the first place. maybe you weren’t the first person to steal it, blaise”

“just for the protocol; i was not the only one involved in the um, disappearance of the artifact”

“no one here is writing a protocol, blaise” you assured with a tap to his arm.

“you never know who listens” blaise mumbled, the paranoia of the weed clearly setting in.

“has someone shown any particular interest in the object or tried to take it?”

blaise shook his head. “no, not that i noticed”

“great” you smiled. “please be sure to hide it better, we don’t want anyone getting stupid ideas and going to dumbledore could lead to you leaving the school, so just keep it on the down low, yeah?”

“don’t worry, ace” blaise nodded with such a confidence you almost had to laugh. “it’s like fort knox in here.”

“sure, okay” theo nodded, standing up, but wobbling a bit.

“are you alright?” you questioned, copying his movement, but finding yourself to be unable to stand straight.

“it’s the weed, i think” theo mumbled and you nodded. “maybe it’s just a short effect”

the effect was anything but short. as soon as theo and you walked, or more wobbled back onto the dancefloor, it seemed to only highten the feelings you were experiencing.

everything he said was so so funny. the music was like a drug, you couldn’t walk away from and theo’s two heads were definitely a sight to see.

“what was the plan?” you screamed into theo’s ear. the loudness of the music made you feel like it was coming from right next to you.

“what?” theo called back, before he finally understood your words. “what plan?”

“uh- i forgot” you answered before you broke into a loud giggle.

“let’s dance” theo encouraged, taking your hand in his and bringing your bodies closer together.

you recognized the song that was playing as ‘meddle about’ and theo smiled, because he recognized it too.

the dancefloor was quickly filled with even more people that had the sudden need to dance to the intoxicating music. the chandelier glistened in an intense green and if you weren’t mistaken, it flashed a lighter tone with each beat. someone had hexed it to fit the music playing perfectly.

theo and you moved effortlessly. it felt like you had no real control over your body, as you lost yourself in a haze of sweaty and hot bodies. the light made the scenery feel ethereal.

theo’s chest was warm as your hands pressed against him. he held you close by your waste, the fabric of your dress not able to lighten the heat of his touch.

he smirked down at you, when you threw your head back, your hair falling out of the clip you had secured it with. theo caught it effortlessly, clasping it around his belt.

his hand didn’t go back to it’s original position on your waste, but wandered to your neck, lifting your head up, so that your eyes met his. his face looked heavenly in the green light illuminating it. his skin looked like porcellain and the usual blue of his eyes was a mirror to everything playing out before you, you even noticed your own face in them.

“that’s me—“ you pointed to his left eye as theo brought you close in the same second, connecting your mouths and interrupting the rest of your sentence.

his lips were soft and just as hot as the bodies surrounding you. he tasted of nicotine and —if you weren’t mistaken—, a hint of blaise’s weed you both had inhaled, but maybe that was only due to your own state of intoxication.

theo’s hands wandered through your hair, tilting your head to bring you even closer to him. you found help in his tie, your hand clasping around it like a lifeline as your knees got weak at the way he was kissing you.

you felt yourself fall deeper and deeper into the haze as theo’s lips intoxicated your body even further, but you were interrupted by a loud snapping sound.

you broke the kiss. “what was that?” you muttered against his mouth. it looked like no one around you had heard what you had, maybe they were even further gone than you.

“i don’t care” theo mumbled, pushing his mouth to yours again.

“no” you said when he began kissing you neck. there was the sound again. “theo, we have to stop”

“no, why—“

“we’re falling for it” you said, holding his face in your hands. you quickly noticed the redness in his eyes. “it’s not real, theo, we have to wake up”

theo ignored what you were saying and tried to kiss you again, but you quickly swerved to the side. that seemed to have been enough for him to fall out of his own trance. “what—where?”

“yeah, i know, we—“ the snapping sound repeated for a third time. now louder, more urgent. you searched the room for a hint where it was coming from, when your eyes finally wandered to the ceiling above you.

your eyes widened. three of the five strings that were holding the chandelier had snapped. it was hanging dangerously to the side, only waiting for the other two strings to break.

“the chandelier” you said and theo understood immediately, helping you to push the people away.

you had reacted at the right time. just a second after you had pushed the last guy away, the fourth and fifth string snapped at the same time, sending the chandelier flying down.

theo and you, having been the last people in the middle, dashed to the side. he pressed you body to his chest, as you watched the chandelier fall apart right in front of your feet.

a few seconds went by without anything happening.

1, 2, 3. when finally loud screaming broke out and everyone fell into a similar panic. the people began running to every side, while theo and you stood in the middle of the room, watching the chaos around you unfold.

people were screaming all sorts of things. from ‘oh my god, so close!’ to ‘someone just tried murdering me’

you continued standing still, quickly realizing that it was to no use to throw yourself into the panicking crowd. bodies hit you as they ran through the room without care and theo and you could only wait and hold each other until the panic had calmed down.

a body collided with yours, almost pulling your hand along as they ran around you. theo caught you, pulling you back. you watched after the figure in confusion.

“what is it?” theo muttered, noticing the room had calmed down as the guests were pouring out of it. he walked you both to the wall, away from the leaving crowd.

you held up your hand between his and your body, revealing the content inside. it was a crumpled up piece of paper the unfamiliar person had given you admist the chaos.

theo furrowed his brows, taking the paper from you and folding it open, reading the words written inside of it: “humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. all the king’s horses and all the king’s men”

you looked at him, waiting for him to finish. nothing happened. “couldn’t put humpty together again?”

“yeah” theo nodded, “but it doesn’t say that” he held the paper in your direction, showing you how the rhyme ended in the middle of the last verse.

“what does that even mean?”

“i have no idea” theo pushed the paper into the pocket of his trousers, “but i say we get out of here. we cannot be sure the noise hasn’t triggered a teachers attention”

“yeah” you nodded. you looked behind you at the door that was hiding both blaise and probably the most dangerous artifact in the whole castle, debating if you should warn him. the door flew open, revealing blaise leaning in the doorway.

he waved at you, clearly less intoxicated, and watched as theo walked you out of the room.

“despite how the night ended it was pretty successful, right?”

“you think so?” theo asked surprised. “i wouldn’t say we found out a lot”

“well, i’m pretty sure that we can rule out the artifact as a motive. i mean she didn’t even want it back, it would’ve been easy enough to steal it from the professor, but blaise is basically no threat if the killer was really trying to get to the artifact”

“yeah, you’re right” theo nodded. “if the artifact was the motive, there would've been no murder, so it’s basically a false lead”

“maybe an intentional false lead” you thought aloud. “remember who first mentioned it?”

“mattheo” theo muttered, realizing it had been his friend who had first brought up the existence of a dangerous dark magical artifact.

“but mattheo isn’t the killer” you quickly assured.

“how can you be so sure?” he challenged, skepticism dancing in his eyes.

“well, first of all: it’s mattheo we’re talking about” you replied, shaking your head. “he isn’t stupid, and he doesn’t even have a motive. why would he risk an unnecessary murder when he gets absolutely nothing from it? no, the killer had a reason. a good reason.”

“something that warrants a murder?”

“no” you shook your head. “something that requires a murder”

“a point of no return?”

“exactly” you nodded.

the both of you were walking down the corridor to the gryffindor common room, theo not leaving you alone until he was sure you were safe. you had made a stop at the room of requirement, switching back into your normal clothes, as to not reveal where you had been the whole evening.

“i know it’s not really the right time, but i just wanted to tell you that i had a great time, apart from all the drug intoxication and us nearly being killed by the chandelier, thanks for saving me by the way”

you smiled at him, stopping in the middle of the hallway as you looked at each other. “i couldn’t have imagined better company than you, theo nott”

“don’t flatter me, sparrow. you’re the most—“

the portrait to the common room flew open, revealing an angry harry potter. he was red in the face as he walked in your direction with an urgency you had never seen before.

hermione almost fell as she tumbled out of the portrait behind him. she looked even worse. the buttons on her cardigan were only halfway done, missing out one completely as it hung to the side. her face was as red as harry’s but not from anger. the reason for it were the tears on her face, sobs shaking her whole body as she tried reaching for harry’s arm.

“i couldn’t stop him” she sobbed, trying her best to hold him back from theo and you. “i’m sorry”

“what?” you muttered confused “what happened?”

theo was less relaxed than you, quickly interpreting the scene, knowing clearly well hermione would’ve never revealed your secret. “what did you do to her potter?” he stepped in front of you protectively, softly pushing hermione behind him at the same time.

“what have i done to her?” harry huffed unbelieving. “what have you done to my sister?”

“harry, please i can—“

“no, you can’t” harry shook his head. “i have been worried sick. there’s been a murder and you’re nowhere to be found, running around with him. he is part of the people we once stayed clear of, remember?”

“harry, please don’t—i mean burbage, she—“

harry shook his head and you had to look around theo’s body to make out his expression, the surprise in his eyes making your eyes widen, while hermione was hanging on your arm like it was a lifeline.

“i’m not talking about burbage”

“what?” you muttered in shock, stepping around theo to fully look at your brother, hermione right by your side. “where is ron?”

you could feel hermione shake her head.

“it’s not ron” harry declared and your breath calmed down for just a second, before he added “it’s neville.”

hermione sobbed again. tears shimmered in your eyes, while you grabbed theo’s arm as not fall to the ground. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the air being sucked from your lungs completely.

“longbottom?” theo almost whispered. even he was shocked at the revelation. none of you could even think about what would qualify neville as a murder victim. he was never involved in anything remotely bad. he always stayed clear of danger or forbidden stuff. how could someone even so much as think about—

“hermione found him in the library” harry’s voice was a lot calmer now, realizing your obvious shock to the situation and deciding there was no use in screaming at you now. you outstretched your arm, pulling hermione close. she hid her face in your shoulder, as both of you cried together. “this was in his hand. she thought you might want to see it, so she made a copy” he held a little piece of paper in theo’s direction, who quickly took it.

“how?” you whispered, while theo was staring at the writing.

“stabbed” harry’s voice broke, as he looked to the ground. he cleared his throat, taking hermione from your arms and walking her back to the portrait. “please come inside now” he demanded, but his voice was only so much as a whisper, defeat swinging along in his tone.

you nodded quickly, ready to follow behind them, when theo held you back. “wait”

and with that he held the paper in your direction, the one neville had held in his hand when he died. you looked at him, silently asking if that was really important now, when he nodded down at it.

your eyes fell on theo’s hand, the veins popping out through the hard grasp he had on the paper. his hand was shaking, nerves playing out as he recited the earlier message you had received in the ballroom: “humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. all the king’s horses and all the king’s men..”

your gaze froze on the words, reading what was written on neville’s paper.

“..couldn’t put humpty together again”

go to the next part

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