#didn't have to correct much lighting in post

[dunmeshistash]

ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

[novelmonger]

I am now (finally) embarking on the last of the LotR audio commentaries I never listened to before: the Production/Post-Production one, with Barrie Osborne (producer), Mark Ordesky (executive producer), Andrew Lesnie (director of photography), John Gilbert (editor), Rick Porras (co-producer), Howard Shore (composer), and Jim Rygiel (visual effects supervisor). A lot more Americans in this group than the previous ones have been. I feel much more out of my depth with this one in terms of figuring out who's talking, but let's see what new stuff they have to say for FotR!

The sound from when Sauron explodes comes from a bunch of sounds they recorded both inside and outside ships in the harbor, as well as the sounds of WWII airplane propellers.

The scenes with Gollum in the prologue were actually some of the last shots they filmed for FotR.

The farmers around the area where they filmed Hobbiton would warn them when people would turn up who weren't supposed to be there, with cameras and whatnot, as well as warning them when planes or choppers would be overhead, so they could prevent (as much as possible) from footage leaking before the movie was released. That warms my heart :)

They used the analogy of a "shell game" when talking about all the different techniques they used to keep the proportions of characters correct with their different sizes. Because they would switch up the techniques between shots, it helped sell the overall effect, because you're not just always looking at a scale double or a bluescreen or what-have-you.

In the scene with Bilbo and Gandalf in the kitchen, they used forced perspective, with the table cut in half so that everything is small for Gandalf and the right size for Bilbo. When Bilbo pours the tea into the teapot, Gandalf handles a small lid on his side, putting it on a little rod that holds it in the right position so it looks like it's sitting on the teapot. Meanwhile, the actual teapot is on Bilbo's side so he can pour the water into it. Also, when Gandalf is first sitting down at the table and turning to get his legs underneath it, if you look closely you can see that when he bumps up against it, the half of the table closer to the camera jiggles a little, but the other half doesn't because it was actually some 5-10 feet away.

In the shot at the party that pans down from the fireworks and the tree, the actual party with all the dancing and everything was shot in a set, so they had to go back to the Hobbiton location (which had already been cleared of the set at that point, I think) and match up that shot to get the tree, and then they composited it together.

The direction for that shot of Minas Tirith when Gandalf goes to research the Ring was to make it look like "Constantinople in the morning." This may be my favorite part of this commentary :)

They needed to scan actors' faces so they could have their digital doubles to work with for certain shots. When they brought in Ian McKellen to scan his face, they said, "We just need to scan your face in a neutral position." He said, "Neutral for me or neutral for Gandalf?" And he demonstrated his own neutral expression, and when he switched to neutral Gandalf, he looked completely different, pursing his lips and furrowing his eyebrows and sucking his cheeks in more. Truly the sign of a gifted actor who knows how to ply his craft.

In the scene where Frodo and Sam are trying to sleep on the road for the first time, originally they were going to end with some sort of animal sniffing around them. First it was a deer, and they also tried a rabbit and maybe some other animals (possible fox appearance???). But that part didn't even make it into the Extended Edition.

Something I never thought about that they had to pay attention to was, because Orthanc is made of shiny material, they had to consider the color and quality of the light reflecting off it. So when they filmed the real location, they would take the camera and pan around the location, then print out stills and put them up around the miniature when they filmed that part of the shot, so they could get the right colors to match each shot they would composite over it, so it would look like both were in the same place. Now that's what I call attention to detail!

On the night they shot the little chase sequence with the Nazgul in the forest, it was actually raining off and on, even though you can't really see it in the movie. That made the ground very muddy, so the Hobbits actually had to be carried back to their first position for each new take so they wouldn't get too much mud on their feet and clothes.

To get the sounds of the trees' "voices" when the orcs in Isengard tear them down, they actually used several animal sounds like whales, moreso than sounds recorded from actual trees.

Bob Anderson, the swordmaster for the films, said they needed to have five copies of every sword for every actor every day they were going to be fighting with them, because that's how likely it is for them to be broken (since the swords actors use for hitting each other are lighter and not made like a real sword). But Richard Taylor wanted to find a way to make the swords more durable, because there are a lot of swords in these movies. So Weta developed a technique to help the stunt swords redistribute the shock from hitting them against each other. They took polyurethane, which Mark Ordesky notes is the same material as skateboard wheels, and they made a sort of sheath of that under the surface of the hilt. None of the swords they made like that ever broke.

The tree that gets thrown down into the chasm in Isengard had to be a miniature so they could get it high enough to drop it as far as they wanted to (and so they wouldn't have to cut down a huge tree). But they had to add little springs and things to make the branches bounce and jiggle properly, rather than just break off, as they would if you just made a little model tree. Little details like that really sell the scale.

In the Nazgul horseback chase scene, they cleared a path for the horses to safely run through the forest. But then they would also get branches and put them on the car or whatever vehicle had the camera, so it would look like they were pushing through more dense foliage, while still keeping the actors and horses safe.

The Council of Elrond was the final piece of the sound mix they had to finish for FotR, and it was down to a matter of hours. One of the things they mentioned having difficulty figuring out what to do with was the moment when Frodo sets the Ring down on the plinth. Originally, there was going to be a murmur of the crowd watching, but it didn't seem to have the gravitas and stunned awe necessary for that moment, so they had to play around with a lot of things before Peter Jackson was satisfied with it.

When Gimli smashes the Ring with his axe, John Rhys-Davies was actually only holding an empty handle, and the axe head was added digitally later so it could shatter.

Barrie Osborne (I think?) commented on something at least Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan, especially Dom, started to do in order to make it more believable that the primary actors and the scale doubles are the same people. He noticed that their scale doubles tended to move and walk in a certain way (I assume partly because most of them were Little People, so their physique and proportions are a bit different), and so instead of leaving it up to them to mimic his movements, he started changing the way he moved to match them. That's just really cool.

Originally, they were going to do a bit of a flashback when Boromir asks Aragorn, "Have you ever seen the white tower..." etc. It would have been shot in the same place as the scene where Aragorn is visiting his mother's grave, and would feature Elrond talking to Aragorn about how he's the only one who can wield Anduril and how he needs to take his place as the king of Gondor.

For some of the close-up shots of Gimli in the scene where they first head into Moria, they actually had to use a double - not a scale double! an actual guy who was the same size as John Rhys-Davies! - because John had such a bad reaction to the facial prosthetics that he had to go a few days in between each time he put it on. But he'd had the prosthetics on the day before, and they didn't have time to wait until he could put them on again. So they had to find a double, put on the prosthetics and costume, and then John stood out of frame and spoke the lines, and the double mouthed the words along with him. I would never have guessed!

THANK YOU TO WHOEVER WAS TALKING AND I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RECOGNIZE YOUR VOICE FOR SURE, but someone was talking about "cinematic dark." In other words, how to light a scene so you can see everything that's happening even though you're in a place with hardly any light sources, like in Moria where the only light comes from the torch and Gandalf's staff most of the time. Instead of making it all really dark (*pointed stare at too many movies these days*), they shot it as if there is a source of light, but always very far away, like it's filtering through miles of rocky caverns or something. What that meant practically was that they would only light the characters in silhouette or from the side, never the front. So it would still give the impression that they're in darkness, but you don't have to strain at all to make out what's happening. They also desaturated the colors so everything looked muted, similar to how your vision kind of goes black-and-white in the dark.

One of the fundamental elements for the Moria goblin screeches was an opossum screech. There was some kind of opossum research facility in Wellington that they went to to record what became the foundation of the goblin sounds. Then they took them and re-recorded them in some WWII tunnels to get the right echoey reverb effect. And then for the sounds of them moving, they took sounds from insects like grasshoppers, as well as rattling seashells from the beach against the walls of the tunnels to get a scuttling sort of sound for when they come pouring out of holes in the ceiling.

You know that one shot where Legolas fires an arrow at a goblin archer and the camera follows the arrow all the way into his forehead? I always assumed that whole thing was all CG, but no! Even that had a practical element to it! They set up a camera on a sort of zip line with a bungee cord and sent it down as fast as it could go towards an actual stunt guy in costume! Now that's what I call above and beyond.

They shot a scene that didn't make it into even the Extended Edition of the Fellowship arguing about what they should do next after they leave Moria, with some members having misgivings about going to Lothlorien. I wish we could see that, even though I understand why they needed to keep things moving. They didn't mention if they actually shot this or if it was scrapped by the time they got that far, but there was also a mention of the entry to Lothlorien being much more frantic, as they're chased by orcs and then rescued by a sudden volley of Elven arrows.

There was also once a longer scene between Boromir and Frodo as they're waiting to see if Haldir will let them into Lothlorien. He tells Frodo a story of him getting over the death of one of his comrades. Um...I wanna see these extra scenes!!!

They wanted Lothlorien to feel ethereal and maybe almost slightly in a different universe, because of the Elves and especially Galadriel, who can see into hearts and minds. One of the ways they did that was by diffusing the light on the set so everything seems kind of dreamy. Another way they tweaked things was by bringing out the blues and edging them towards lavender. Yes, yes, Lothlorien is supposed to be golden, but after hearing the explanation about how lavender is actually one of the hardest colors to get to look right on film (the word used was "fragile") and to look good against skin tones, and therefore you don't see it very much in the movies, I can appreciate the subtle ways they tried to make Lothlorien feel distinct.

Originally, they were going to have a scene where the Fellowship goes through some rapids on the Anduin and get ambushed by orc archers. Ultimately, they decided they didn't need that as a story beat at that point, and it would have been very difficult to shoot anyway. Makes me wonder if that influenced the infamous barrel scene from the Hobbit movies, like they dug up some old plans for that....

Except for one wide shot where they used a scale double for Frodo, the entire confrontation between Boromir and Frodo was shot just with Sean Bean and Elijah Wood, no special effects, just strategic blocking and using the slope and different angles to their advantage to always make it look like Frodo is smaller than Boromir.

If I understood Howard Shore correctly, he was inspired to use a boy's choir for Boromir's death when he saw Boromir, after falling to his knees from the first arrow or two, looking up at Merry and Pippin. Boys singing at his death gives a sense of lost innocence, which is appropriate both to Boromir trying to take the Ring as well as to the lost innocence of losing the Hobbits. So it's not just a lament for Boromir, it's also his lament for (as he thinks in the moment, because he knows he's dying) failing the Hobbits.

The original mix for Boromir's death had all the sound effects at full volume, which made the moment even more brutal. Mark Ordesky was saying that he (and probably some others) was thinking it might be better if they pulled back on some of the sound and let the music be louder. Peter Jackson said, "Well, let's try it," and as soon as they turned down the volume, the entire room basically agreed immediately that's how they needed to do it. It's meant to sound and feel almost like you're sinking underwater as Boromir is dying, because that's how it would sound and feel for him.

Oh my goodness, further proof that studio execs shouldn't have a say in the story of a movie. New Line wanted the movie to end with Frodo and Sam paddling across the river, and then an Uruk bursts up from underwater and grabs Frodo, pulling him out of the boat. The Ring somehow comes off the chain, and the Uruk is so enamored with it that he ends up drowning while trying to grab it. Then Sam somehow gets Frodo (and the Ring) back into the boat. Thank goodness they came up with the much better ending we all know and love. Because the people actually involved with writing the movie and telling its story knew that the ending of FotR needs to be about the breaking of the Fellowship, about love and loyalty in the face of great evil. So that's why they went with the ending they did: Sam falls into the water and almost drowns, Frodo saves him, and that paves the way for the incredible emotional high of Frodo leaving the Fellowship, but Sam going with him. And just like Frodo is thinking about how Gandalf talked about how he was meant to find the Ring, Sam is thinking about how Gandalf told him not to leave Frodo. It all ties together so much better.

The last shot for the film was Boromir going over the waterfall. It was in the final cut of the movie just as a previs shot, and Barrie Osborne said he assumed it was going to be a CG effect or something. But finally, while Peter Jackson was in London working on scoring the film - so pretty late in the production - Barrie called him and asked when they were going to shoot that scene. Peter Jackson had forgotten about it! So Barrie had to shoot it, and since they didn't have the actors in New Zealand at that point, they had to get Weta to make a silicon dummy to shoot instead.

[nefja]

Hello again.

[calltainn]

This caught me in my I-don't-want-to-go-to-sleep-yet danger zone and I put the first few hours of vote results (at 1,705 votes) into a spreadsheet.

Some observations: Anon's sibling's theory doesn't seem to have much support from the responses so far. The results so far are the opposite of what you'd expect to see if that were the case - a higher percentage of respondents who celebrate or observe a winter holiday get seasonal depression (62%) compared to those who don't celebrate a winter holiday at all (48% of them get seasonal depression). This suggests that anon's sibling is probably correct that winter holidays and seasonal depression are linked in some way, just not the way they expected. The causal relationship, direction, and mechanism are also not immediately obvious.

I offer two different theories to consider.

"Seasonal depression causes winter holidays" theory: Cultures with higher proportions of people who experience seasonal depression are more likely to develop winter holidays, perhaps with the hope or belief that it will counteract the negative feelings (whether that actually happens or not).

"Winter holidays cause seasonal depression" theory: The combination of winter and winter holidays results in more people experiencing seasonal depression than winter alone, perhaps because of the additional expectations and social pressures holidays can generate.

Separating those who celebrate a winter holiday from those who observe but don't enjoy a winter holiday provides some additional info (62% of the celebrators and 70% of the non-enjoying observers get seasonal depression), but it isn't clear if the observers' poor experience of the holiday triggers depression or worsens a mild seasonal low mood to the point of depression (which might support theory 2) or their pre-existing seasonal depression means they don't enjoy the holiday or both.

I would be interested to know the reasons why some respondents don't celebrate a winter holiday (e.g. is there no winter where they are or where their culture developed, or do they opt out of a winter holiday they could participate in if they chose) and how/why winter holidays correlate with variables that predict winter seasonal depression in general (I'm guessing latitude at a minimum). But those are queries to be investigated by someone who wasn't meant to be asleep an hour ago.

Personally, I suspect both causal relationships exist and contribute to higher seasonal depression among people who take part in present-day winter holidays. I'm most familiar with modern, relatively secular Christmas celebrations in Scotland and the UK, which are known to be associated with a lot of intense pressures and difficult emotions, so it seems plausible that could help push mild seasonal glumness into a stronger seasonal depression. On the other hand, I live in a fairly cold, high latitude country, which I would hazard a guess is likely to have a relatively high proportion of people who get winter seasonal depression, and I have long since thought that bright and cheerful winter holidays probably developed in such places in large part because without it winter can be fucking BLEAK.

Anon's sibling has a theory that people who don't celebrate a major holiday in winter are more prone to seasonal depression because they don't have festivities and holiday cheer to look forward to.

*"Major" holiday in the sense that it's a significant reason to celebrate personally, not necessarily just major calendar holidays– for example, Hanukkah isn't a major holiday by religious tradition, but some individuals love it and might consider it "major" on a personal level.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[yaniluvs]

‧₊˚ ⛲️ ⌇ 리노 : OUR MOONLIGHT ── your idol-boyfriend comes over to yours, tired from the day's schedule, only to find you wearing one of his tees.

𓍯 idolbf!leeknow ʚଓ unistudent!fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 0.9k ── ༯ DRABBLE, established relationship, domestic and tooth rotting fluff, cute, comfort, petnames, messy but romantic kissing, making out, corny flirting, requested by anon! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ if you saw this post earlier, no you didn't. this is a repost ㅠㅠ.. ginger/red/brown minho is my weak spot.. >< loved writing this so much !! my very first request, thanks anon! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the hum of the city outside was a comforting backdrop as y/n sat in her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she adjusted the brown frame of her glasses, staring at the glowing screen in front of her.

assignments always had a way of consuming her time, but tonight, her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.

the sound of keys jingling at the door snapped her back to reality. she smiled to herself, knowing exactly who it was.

the door opened quietly, and the guy stepped inside, the dim light of the apartment highlighting his newly dyed dark brownish-scarlet hair. it suited him perfectly—soft, warm, hot, and too fine. 

he noticed her immediately, sitting on the couch in one of his tees- fitting her loosely, paired with shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem. she looked effortlessly cute, and his heart swelled at the sight. 

"busy, hmm?" her boyfriend asked, his voice gentle yet teasing, as he closed the door behind him.

she looked up, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

"you’re home," she exclaimed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "and you look so fluffy today. i can’t get over how perfect this hair color is on you."

minho cringed at her words, his face turning into mock-disgust, running a hand through his soft locks. "you think so? i thought you’d like it." 

"i love it," she replied, her tone affectionate. "you look like a hot rockstar who's secretly a red velvet muffin inside."

"interesting choice of words.." he chuckled, shaking his head at the nickname. "a red velvet muffin? really? i was going for something more…mature."

she giggled, setting her laptop aside. "oh, trust me, you look very mature," she teased, her eyes trailing over him. "but i can’t help it, you’re just so adorable."

minho made his way over to her, his movements slow and deliberate. he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead before whispering, "and you, look way too good in my shirt."

y/n smirked, pulling him down by his hand to sit on the armchair nearby. "you mean my shirt now," she corrected, her voice playful.

"is that so?" his eyes sparkled with mischief. he sat down, pulling her with him so that she ended up on his lap, straddling him. 

she gasped softly, her hands instinctively finding their place on his broad shoulders. "someone’s feeling bold tonight."

"bold?" he tilted his head, his expression innocent. "i’m just getting comfortable."

she rolled her eyes, though her heart was racing. "comfortable, huh?"

he nodded, his hands resting on her waist, gently tugging her closer. "very comfortable. i mean, how could i not be when i have you right here?" his voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing against hers.

she couldn’t help but smile, her hands moving to play with the soft strands of his dyed hair. "you really do look good with this color," she murmured, her lips hovering just above his. 

"then stop talking about it and do something," he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

her smile widened as she accepted the challenge, closing the small distance between them. their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened.

her heart pounded in her chest as she melted into him, every inch of her body aware of his presence. she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and it was comforting, grounding her in the moment.

his hands slid up her back, his touch gentle. he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "you taste like strawberries."

"you look like one," she chuckled softly, brushing her nose against his. "but you taste like trouble."

"is that a bad thing?" he asked, his voice pouty, laced with amusement.

"not at all," she replied, capturing his lips again. 

the world outside her apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in each other. their kisses stayed soft, more calm, as if they were making up for all the time they’d spent apart. 

minho's hands roamed over her body, his touch setting her skin on fire. he loved how she responded to him, the way she clung to him, the little gasps that escaped her lips between kisses.

her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, as if she could never get enough of him. she could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed her, and it made her heart swell with love.

eventually, they pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. 

"you really need to come over more often," y/n whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

the guy only chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "i’m not going anywhere, not when you look at me like that."

she blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "like what?"

"like i’m the only person in the world," he replied, his voice soft, sincere.

she smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. "that’s because you are," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more.

this time, it was better, more tender, a promise of all the moments they would share in the future.

and as they held each other, wrapped up in their own little world, they knew that nothing else mattered. not the assignments, not the schedules, not the outside world—just the two of them, here, in this moment.

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[floraisunwell]

Promise | s.r

who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)

category: angst (bold move ig)

summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.

based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3

dividers by @aquazero

English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!

The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.

Funny, because he was the one to leave.

After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"

That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.

He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.

Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.

Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.

After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.

Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.

He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.

His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.

For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.

But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.

He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.

Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:

"Are you home?"

He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.

You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.

Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.

You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.

"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice

"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.

You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.

Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.

You were not going to let him in.

"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.

"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"

You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.

You let him in.

You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.

“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.

 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.

★

Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.

tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated

@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ something like sympathy

summary: winter break with a sympathetic vil schoenheit type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, good old fluff, mentions of food and eating + vil is kiiind of implied to have an ed word count: 4k

Different never meant "bad" to Vil Schoenheit.

...And besides that, he simply had no reason to care about the magicless student. You weren't like the others at Night Raven College- you didn't run in the halls or make obscene gestures behind the professor's backs, you didn't shout, you didn't interrupt, you didn't fight or scream or slouch.

You were truly nothing special at all, which is special itself at a place like that.

Vil supposes that's why he liked you.

And you were always alone. At the beginning of the semester, he'd seen you straggling along behind the other first years, looking like a lost puppy. Never quite sure of what to say or not say, what to do with your hands, but always sure that you didn't quite belong.

He recognized that look on a person.

Then, you were alone again. Vil reasoned with himself. It wouldn't have been unusual for a student of Night Raven to prefer their own company. But again, you weren't a Night Raven student. You were a stranger, and stranger you stayed.

For all the things he'd heard about you, your presence was not impressive. You were always meek. Quiet. You did not join a club, he heard. You didn't talk to your classmates. They didn't talk to you.

Vil had once quietly, very quietly, asked Epel about you. And those dreadful dark circles, he said. But Epel didn't know much, just that the other first years thought you were "weird" and thus you spent more of your time with the staff than the students.

Weird. That word left a poor taste in Vil's mouth.

Different, yes. Quiet, reserved, yes, yes. But weird?

"Why the staff?" he had asked, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

Epel shrugged and picked at his collar. He'd learned not to complain in front of Vil by that point. "Mostly Crowley. They do his bidding, or something,"

He shouldn't have let that bother him, but he did, anyway.

Vil watched you a little closer from then on. How you stuttered when you spoke. How you sat away from the others. How you always looked so tired and unwell and...

Stop making me feel sorry for you, he thought, as if you could hear him. Stop it.

He asked some of the other housewardens. All of them had stories, but none of them seem worried. Again, that word. Weird.

Vil corrected them each time. Different. Not weird. Different. They ignored him.

You became a mystery to him. You sat, you waited, you stood again. You ate, sometimes, but never quite enough. You looked at your paper but didn't write. It was as if you were dead to this world and reborn into your own, existing solely within yourself in the way that he could only see through the light in your eyes.

He wanted to get closer, he wanted to see that light and know what you were thinking, but he didn't know how. And he didn't want to involve Rook in this. That would only scare you away.

No. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man in the world, actor, model, housewarden of Pomefiore, would have to be gentle with you.

.

"And Epel?"

He asks, serving him another helping of green beans. Epel's nose wrinkles at the smell of whatever fancy spices they'd been baked in.

"...Back to my... grandmother's," the boy says.

"Don't scowl," Vil snaps. "This is our last dinner as a dorm before break. You could at least pretend to have manners."

Epel bites back a swear, and Rook gives him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back. Vil rolls his eyes.

"And you, Rook?"

"Ah! My family is vacationing at one of our villas," he says, vague as ever. Vil doesn't bother asking for details.

"Good," he says, cutting himself another piece of fish. He doesn't eat it, though. "And the Prefect?"

The question is directed at Epel. He blinks.

"I reckon... I mean, I assume they'll be staying here,"

"Alone?"

He gives the housewarden a suspicious look. Rook's grin sharpens.

"...I guess so. No students, no staff,"

"That can hardly be safe," Vil says, finally eating. He chews, swallows, and dabs around his mouth with his napkin before speaking again. Everyone waits for him.

"How will they feed themselves? And what of the cold? Crowley does realize that they are a person, and not a cardboard cutout, yes?"

Epel shrugs. He doesn't know more than that. Rook does, but he chooses not to say anything.

"It's not like they got a lot of options," the first year says, pretending to eat his green beans while discreetly discarding of them under the table.

Vil scowls, this time. "And no one has offered to take them?"

Epel blinks. "...They don't have any friends, really,"

He shakes his head. Why is he not surprised? Would it kill the students at this school to have one shred of human decency?

"Shall I extend them an invitation on your behalf, Housewarden?" Rook says, a coy smile playing at his lips.

He's teasing, in his own infuriating way, but Vil isn't witless. Even he can be surprising.

"Yes, thank you," he says, and then returns to his meal without another word. The shocked silence and envious looks of the other students are not lost on Vil, but, this time, he doesn't scold them for staring.

.

"Leave your shoes by the door. You'll track mud," Vil says, walking inside.

You do as he says without missing a beat. It's almost adorable, how nervous you are. And it's terrifying at the same time. You act as if you haven't been shown any kindness in months.

He supposes you probably haven't.

"It's warm in here," is the first thing you say.

Not a comment about the imported marble, or the display shelf full of Vil's father's accolades, or the stained glass windows.

No. "It's warm in here", you say.

Something like sympathy twists in Vil's stomach.

"...Yes. And it's quite expensive to heat a house of this size, so, please, mind the door,"

You realize that you're standing in the doorway and promptly move inside, letting the large front door close behind you.

Your cat... thing makes a comment about how shiny everything is. Vil sighs.

"And please don't break anything. Most of the art is original and can't be replaced..." he says. "We have three meals a day, and if you're hungry between then, there's fresh fruit in the kitchen."

The little dire beast looks up at you with big, sparkly eyes, and you nod, letting him scamper in the direction of the kitchen, which he must have... smelled?

Vil watches him skid across the marble floors and crash into the wall, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"...Sorry about Grim," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic, and it makes Vil nauseous. How did anyone like you even end up at Night Raven?

"Never mind that. Are you hungry?"

You stare at him as if you hadn't heard what he said. You seem reluctant to answer.

Vil puts a hand on his hip. "We're never going to leave the foyer if you keep staring like that. Come on,"

He leads you to the kitchen, ignoring the sight of Grim digging through his pantry like a starved man.

"We don't have dinner until six, and it's past lunch, so I'll make you something light," he says, looking through the fridge. You stand behind him like you have nothing better to do.

"You can have a seat wherever you'd like. I won't charge you for it," he smiles.

You stare back. Sevens, now he's making jokes with you. What is WRONG with him?

He does get you to sit somewhere, though, which he counts as a win. Your little creature eventually joins you, sitting in your lap and probably covering you in cat hair. Vil tries not to think about it.

You wait until he's begun taking out plates and pans to speak. "You're cooking?"

"Surprised?" He smirks.

There's always something rather satisfying about subverting expectations. Of course, you didn't know him yet, and you probably assumed that he was just another spoiled-

"No, I mean, you're cooking for me?"

Vil almost drops the pan. Damn it. Must everything you say be so insufferably pitiful? With the kicked puppy look, too? Are you doing this on purpose?

He quickly turns his back to you, facing the stovetop.

"...I am. Is that alright?"

He hears some shuffling that he takes as a nod.

"Better than alright!" Grim says. He can hear you chuckling at that. The sound is warmer than the open flame.

"...Well... good," Vil says, trying to sound stern again. "I don't cut corners when it comes to healthy eating, and while you're under my roof, I expect the same. So... it'll be three home-cooked meals a day. Understood?"

Grim whispers to you, asking about dessert, and you shush him. Vil rolls his eyes.

"...And dessert. We're in agreement, then?"

You nod again, and he hums. Good. Now he won't feel ill every time you look at him.

He finishes your "snack" (which is more of a light lunch), and serves both of you. Grim immediately digs in, practically tearing apart the plate, but you don't even touch yours.

Vil doesn't care for that look. It's all... sad. "Is something wrong?"

And you hesitate to answer. For a moment, he worries he made something you can't eat. Finally:

"Aren't you going to have something?"

What are you trying to do, kill him? Vil huffs.

"I didn't think of it,"

Your hands remain on your lap. Grim is starting to pick veggies off your plate already, and Vil has to fight the urge to swat him away from your food.

He sighs. "Will you eat if I have something?"

You hesitate to answer again, and then you nod. Barely. Like you're nervous just being in the same room as him. Damn you.

Vil sits next to you and takes a modest portion from your plate. He hates himself for doing it, but he doesn't ask why, either. He just assumes you feel awkward eating in front of him.

Or maybe you think he's poisoned you. It wouldn't be unbelievable, considering what you've already been through at school.

Either way, you do finally eat, even though the food is cold now. You even give Grim something else from your plate when he begs.

Vil watches you. The way you eat, the way you smile at that terrible greedy cat of yours, the way you politely stack your plates when you finish. You should be under someone's Christmas tree, not sitting in his kitchen.

"...Can I ask you something?"

He'd been cleaning off your plates in the sink when you spoke again. Vil hates those sorts of questions- haunting memories of interviews and tabloid reporters flash across his mind.

"You may," he says, subtly correcting you.

"Where's the guy in all your pictures?"

Vil quiets. His pictures? His Magicam pictures? Why would you-

When he turns over his shoulder, you're looking at the wall. Oh. Of course.

"My... father is filming a movie. He won't be home until the end of break. You won't have to meet him... but he would like you,"

"So you're here all by yourself?"

Vil hates that question. He hates the way you say it. Why would you care? Why would you worry about him? You barely know him.

"...Well, there are the staff. The housekeepers. But I don't need them here every day, so I usually let them have paid time-off when my father isn't around,"

That sounds silly when he says it aloud, he thinks.

"You do...?" you ask. "...That's sweet."

Vil doesn't answer that. He doesn't have an answer for that.

.

He doesn't know how to approach you.

It's funny. Vil can handle paparazzi, prying interviewers, tabloid gossipers, demanding directors, egotistical designers, even Neige Leblanche... but he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

Five times, five times since you've arrived at his home, he's gone to you, up the stairs or down the hall, stood in front of your room, and did nothing.

Sometimes he can hear you inside, others not. Once, he came as soon as he got up, not even bothering to fix his hair, and threw open your door... and you were asleep.

He isn't even sure what he wants to say. Something. Anything.

"Do you want to watch something with me?"

Vil jolts. He's not easy to startle, but he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you standing behind him. You're quiet.

"...Yes... I suppose I have the time," he says, as if he's done anything this week but imagine this exact moment. "Do you have something in mind?"

You bring him to the viewing room, to the cabinet of all of his and his father's movies. Apparently, you'd been exploring the house while Vil sulked in his bedroom.

"This one?" he asks, not bothering to hide the sour expression on his face as you held up your pick.

"Is it bad?"

"No," he says. Nothing he makes is bad. "It's just... well, I..." It's a Neige movie, and Vil is not in it for more than a scene. "...Never mind. We can watch it."

He sits beside you and the furball, who seems more entertained with rubbing himself all over the couch to get his scent on it (ugh), and the film's opening credits roll.

How he's going to sit through two hours of Neige Leblanche with you is beyond him.

A small, quiet, but biting thought that you might like Neige more than him makes Vil uncomfortable in his seat. He doesn't know why he would care about such a thing, but he does.

Vil watches you more than he watches the film. You don't react much, he notes. The jokes don't land with you, the songs don't make you smile, not even the scary scenes really get more than a yawn out of you. He so desperately wants to ask-

"Who is this, again?"

He blinks as you finally speak, as if he'd forgotten you could do that.

"...The actor? That's Neige. Neige Leblanche," Vil has to remind himself that you're not from this world, and you don't know these things.

You make a face. "...I don't really like him,"

And there it is. If Vil were not already sitting down, his legs would've given out. He stares at you as if you were speaking another language to him.

"...Hm... You don't, do you?" he asks, trying to withhold the excitement in his voice. My, my, how he'd love a look into your mind...

"He's a little too much," you say. "Just... too much."

Vil nods. "I understand completely,"

A pause. He swallows thickly. "Would you like to watch something else?"

"Um... yeah. Maybe you should pick,"

Maybe he should pick. He smiles, takes out the disc, and comes back with a different one.

"This, you should like," he says, putting it in. "...And no Neige."

You nod. "No Neige,"

.

Winter break goes on, and the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Vil won't think the words. He refuses to let them come together in his mind, because once he's thought them, they'll feel real.

Fortunately for him, he has other things to occupy his thoughts.

He cradles his chin in his palm, sitting beside you in a way that's certainly not good for his posture, but he can forgive himself for being comfortable just this once.

You'd built him a fire. What a strange thought that is. You'd gone outside, found the wood, split it, and built a fire in the lounge. He walked in on you as it was kindling, and you explained you had been doing this for months at Ramshackle. As if you were living in another century, he thought.

And now, here you were. You and him. Sitting in front of a marvelous fire you'd made, warm drinks he'd made you in hand, Grim snoozing on a cushion behind you. You'd been telling him about your home, your family, your schooling, your country and culture... and he'd been listening. Of course.

He'd never seen you smile so much.

"Do you miss it?" he asks, his voice quiet so as not to disturb Grim.

You're quiet for a moment. You take a sip of your drink, and then put it on the rug. Normally, he'd chastise someone for being so careless, but he doesn't even think of that now.

"...It wasn't perfect. But it was home," and that's all you say.

Vil smiles softly. "I imagine NRC hasn't been the most inviting,"

You almost chuckle at his joke. He knows that's a bit of an understatement.

"...Not until recently," you say, quietly, as if sharing a secret. "You... um... this is the closest to home I've felt."

Vil's heart skips a beat. Again, you somehow manage to leave him speechless and flustered, and he doesn't hate it. Not really. And, for a moment, he could've sworn you'd almost told him that he was the closest thing to home.

It's a scary thought. In a good way, though.

"Oh, it's snowing," you say, standing to go to the window. He lets you go, taking the moment to think about what you said.

And he thinks. And he thinks. And eventually, he thinks that he does want to be your home.

And the words he'd been avoiding for days come to him.

Because he's falling in love with you.

.

Things are easy. He cooks. You do dishes. You build him fires, and he thanks you with dark chocolate and tea. The snow gets heavier, but you have plenty of movies to watch and much to talk about, so it never bothers you.

He does your makeup for you, once or twice. You never go to sleep before a cleansing face mask. Even Grim gets his nails trimmed and fur brushed.

Vil lets you braid his hair one evening. He teaches you how to tighten the braids, how to pin them back so they stay in place. He does your own hair to show you.

He promises that when the snow melts, he'll take you shopping.

"It's a date", you smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.

You stay up late one night, scrolling through Neige's Magicam and judging his posts together. Your head is on his shoulder. His arm is around you. You fall asleep like that, and the next night, you do the same.

The door to the room he'd been so scared of knocking on is always open now, because you're never inside. You stay in his room, with his jewels and awards, where you belong.

He even lets Grim sleep on the bed, when he's behaved.

You laugh more. Even at his stupid jokes, the ones he never makes in front of anyone else, you laugh. You're beautiful, he thinks.

You talk more, too. About yourself. About your home. About NRC. The dark circles under your eyes begin to make sense. Vil's hatred of the incompetent headmaster is justified. He hates him even more.

He promises you that you can stay in Pomefiore whenever you want. There's always a door open for you.

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One night, he gets carried away. You were in bed. He'd been attending to you again, soothing your cuticles and fussing over your hair. He peels one of his nice face masks off of you and smiles.

"Much better. Softer. Feel," he commands, guiding your hand up to feel one of your cheeks. His hand is on the other.

You touch the plush softness of your skin, greatly improved by his weeks of care, and you nod. "Better,"

"Better," he echoes. Suddenly, he has this terrible, nagging urge to touch you more, and he kisses your cheek.

It's fleeting, so fast that you might have missed it if you weren't paying attention. You are, though, and your eyes are wide.

Vil feels dread. More than before any audition or award ceremony. He stares back, desperate to find his voice.

"...Is that... okay?"

He can barely breathe until you nod.

"It's okay," you say.

He sighs, letting the dread out of him in a single breath. He curses at himself for letting his thoughts carry him away like that, and he makes a mental note to work on it. And then you drop a bombshell on him.

"...You can... do it again, if you want."

Vil says nothing. He stares, his expression unchanging, as if he hadn't heard you right.

And then he moves without thinking, without caring, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you everywhere. Your forehead, both cheeks, your nose and jaw, all of the affection he'd been withholding comes pouring out of him all at once, and it takes a strenuous amount of effort not to touch your lips.

He's almost upset that he isn't wearing lipstick. He would have liked to see you covered in kisses. The thought of you being so visibly his is intoxicating.

He pulls away after you start giggling. You're both dizzy, flustered by the attention he was giving you as if he would never get to give it again.

And he smiles back.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You take a breath to compose yourself, and you nod. It's cute. You're cute.

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"You know, when I heard that my son was bringing someone home for the holidays, I wasn't expecting..."

Vil shoots his father a very pointed glare, both for embarrassing him and for bothering you.

You don't seem to mind, though. "I wasn't expecting to be brought home, so I guess I can't blame you,"

Erik laughs. You laugh. Vil sighs.

When he asked you if you wanted to meet his father, he wasn't really expecting you to say yes. Honestly, he was sort of hoping you wouldn't. Not because of his father, but because he was beginning to enjoy being alone with you. In your own little world together.

It's already been harder sleeping in the same room without being noticed. Their home is big, but not that big. And that's not even mentioning the cuddling and kissing Vil had grown rather dependent on in the past few weeks.

"Well, I'm pleased. If Vil is happy, I'm happy," Erik says. Vil hates the way he said that, as if he already knows...

...And there's that look again. The raised eyebrows, the cheesy grin. Pointed right at him. Vil sighs.

"Really, it was nothing. If anything, I was just appalled that none of the other housewardens had extended an invite," Vil says.

Erik nods. "You'd think with all the princes and what have you, someone would've had a spare room. I guess it all worked out for the better, though. Right?"

He may as well be planning your wedding right here. You watch as Vil sets down his fork, takes his napkin off his lap, and pushes in his chair.

"Excuse me for a moment,"

He excuses himself, stepping out of the dining room and into the hall. Pull yourself together. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

"Vil?"

Vil's meditative thoughts shatter at the sound of your voice, and his heart picks up again. He turns to face you.

"I... apologize for my father. He's only joking," he says.

You shake your head. "I was just making sure you're okay,"

There it is again. Always putting everyone before yourself. Always making sure he's well. Always bothering him, asking if he's eaten enough, when he should be the one worried about you. Everyone should.

The other housewardens were right. You are weird. You don't fit in at NRC. Perhaps you didn't fit in before that, too.

And perhaps that doesn't matter. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing, to be weird. You don't need to belong anywhere but with him.

Slowly, he smiles.

"I'm alright. Just... collecting my thoughts," he says.

He holds out a hand for you to take, and you take it. He gives you a gentle squeeze. You squeeze back.

"...Shall we?"

[redflagshipwriter]

Batmom Cass : enter Barbara

Part one of 2

“You did good work,” Barbara said, in a casual tone. Proud.

Timmybird nodded and gave a flash of teeth in a smile. Didn't believe. It's nothing, look away. “Glad you think they'll pass.” He rolled his neck. “I don't want anyone to be able to prove he's Danny F.”

Cass watched their interplay casually, hair damp from the post-patrol shower and comfortably swimming in an oversized sweatshirt. She played with the ends of the sleeve as they talked.

“They can suspect it all they like, but it'd be hard to disprove this is a separate kid.” Barbara ran her palms over her wheelchair handles in an unconscious tic that meant she wanted to go, go, go. “Still, I like the idea of keeping him out of the public eye until we nail down what's going on in Illinois. This GIW group is bad news.”

Cass bit her lip and flexed her toes, uncertain. Danny was getting restless. And he was a teenager: he needed to be in school. He needed to learn, stretch his wings, grow.

But safe. He needed to be safe, first.

The trouble was she didn't know how to make him fully safe. She'd had him for four days now. Judging by the report of his death, Danny baby had been homeless and on the run for more than a month. He was hiding. Even when she was in the room, he was looking for attacks. Who was he looking for? Dad and mom Fenton? GIW group?

“-gonna hit the showers,” said her little brother.” Cash barely registered him heading to the batcave bathrooms. She was internally weighing her bat nosiness sense against her worry about pushing Danny for answers too soon.

“Am I good to meet him, Mamabird?”

Cass blinked back to awareness. “Mama bat,” she corrected. “Yes.” She cracked her lower back. Mm. Too much standing after patrol. She needed to move a little. “Breakfast. Baby wakes up soon.”

Barbara snorted. “I'll go to bed after,” she said wryly, because they had been flying and solving into the morning light. Riddler was out on the streets. “Did someone check with Alfred about adding me to the breakfast table?”

She didn't know. Cass hummed and flipped over to walk on her hands up the stairs. It sent a pleasant ache through her upper back. Stabilizing her core and legs was just the right amount of casual challenge to make her body feel better.

“Christ,” Barbara said quietly, and huffed out a laugh. The elevator dinged. “I'll see you upstairs.”

Barbara Batgirl beat Cass to the top. Cass huffed in displeasure at the loss and flipped back to her feet. She ducked into the first bathroom they passed to wash her hands.

Alfie was in the kitchen in his morning waistcoat and a thin, comfortable button up shirt. Casual day!

“Good morning, Miss Cassandra,” he said. The kitchen smelled like yeasty bread. Cass sneezed happily and peered around to see meats, cheeses, and fruits.

“Morning!” She chirped. “Barbara wants to stay for breakfast,” Cass said. Barbara wheeled in a moment later, sheepish.

“Good morning, Alfred,” she said. “If it's not too much trouble-”

“It's no trouble at all,” he reassured. “Miss Cassandra, would you add an extra place setting?”

Cass hopped to it, mimicking the placement Alfred had made. It was a nearly full table today. Timbird, Batdad, Dickbird, Cass, Danny baby, Damibat. And now Barbara bat.

She heard a jaw-cracking yawn before Danny swung open the door. “Good morning,” Danny baby yawned through his hand. His eyes were bleary. She watches with amusement as he shuffled in, face down. “Have a good ni-”

He stopped. Eyes on Barbara bat.

New adult, he was scared?

No. Cass rapidly calculated and shifted his shifting body language into emotions. Surprise, joy, love-love-lo-wrong! Not love! Sad. Wistful.

“This is my baby,” Cass said, pretending she didn't notice the reaction. “Danny. This is Barbara.”

Barbara must have noticed Danny's reaction to her. She didn't move closer, lifting a friendly hand from across the countertop.

Danny looked haunted. Danny looked small. “It's nice to meet you, Barbara,” he said. Weak smile.

She had to talk to him, Cass realized. She had to talk with him today. No more delaying. After breakfast, she would talk.

[nymphea0]

The Duke And His secret

Yan! Matthias x Reader

Oneshot Story.

Warnings : mentions of nudity, use of power, mention of sleeping pills, Bird corpse, some light mature content.

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Manhwa : 울어 봐, 빌어도 좋고.Cry, Even Better if You Beg. Cry, Even if You Pray.

Author & Ilustration : Solche & Van J.

Word Count : 3.25K word.

Hi Neva again... i didn't post any story a few days ago, mybe? i always forget that i have a tumblr TvT... hope you all are doing well and having a nice day, i never expected my last story character manhwa Ishakan will be liked so much, i'm glad you all like my story, mybe after this story i will update Ishakan's story soon.

Well, for your information. Solche, the author who made Cry, Even Better if You Beg. Has 3 other stories too!, Solche has a style of writing stories in dark romance but realistic version? I'm not so sure. And all the stories, every ML character is a complex character in each of the 3 stories, Matthias is the darkest black character among them all, He is the definition of Black Fleg, not a red flag, but black!, I wonder if you all like it if I write this character again? Like Bastian and Bjorn?.

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my first oneshot story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

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12-xx-01xx

Birds chirp throughout the Arvis paradise forest, so green and beautiful, so fertile and very pleasing to the eye to see every corner.

But the beauty must be broken by the loud sound of the nobles' annual hunting rifles in the Arvis region.

The sound of horse hooves and the barking of hunting dogs accompany every corner of the Arvis paradise forest.

Three pairs of teenagers are running along the outskirts of the road that is indeed not passed by the nobles.

Layla Llewellyn, Kyle Etman, and you.

Each of you holds a small shovel to bury every bird carcass from the nobles' hunt that lies pitifully along the hunting path.

"They're crazy! How could they be so relaxed hunting such beautiful animals!" Again, it will always be like this, where Layla will complain and cry, and Kyle will calm her down, while you, well you just sigh and dirty your dress.

Lyla is the niece of the gardener of the Arvis residence, Kyle is the son of a doctor, while you, you are just the daughter of an Earl from an empire quite far from the Berg empire.

Your soft and smooth white dress is now dirty from the dirt from the action of burying the bird's corpse, while Kyle is busy calming the crying Lyla.

While you are busy digging the ground you feel someone watching you, slowly raising your head, looking straight there your Amethyst eyes collide with sky-blue eyes, the eyes of the young duke of Arvis, Matthias Von Herhardt, Arvis's perfect work from the Berg empire, a skilled hunter, the , Lyla's natural enemy who loves birds.

There he is, on his horse, still fully dressed for hunting, tall, handsome and masculine, no wonder all the women in Berg want to marry him.

That's what's in your mind, you just stare at him for a moment then go back to burying the bodies of these poor birds.

"Come on Lyla, there's no point in crying, let's bury them properly"

Kyle's voice was very loud but gentle when calming Lyla who was busy crying

In the end you spent the afternoon together burying the carcasses of birds from the nobles' annual hunt.

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Walking in your now dirty white dress, it was certain that the maids and especially your mother would scold you.

Lyla she just looked at you and smiled guiltily with Kyle beside her who also looked at you guiltily.

"Well, you guys should take me to hidden places in this Arvis forest, as payment for me burying all the bird corpses" Kyle and Lyla spoke softly excitedly, especially Lyla who hugged you tightly.

"Of course!! We will definitely take you to a place you've never seen!"

Look at these two cinnamon rolls, they are so cute!.

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You still remember when you first arrived in the Berg Empire, the Arvis region, your mother's hometown. Your father is an Earl who fell in love with your mother, the daughter of a Baron from Arvis, they met at the annual event of nobles from all over the world held in the Berg Empire.

From their love you came, your father loves and cares for you very much, you inherited your mother's soft and beautiful face, while the rest, like snow-white hair, and your Amethyst Eyes you got from your father.

The combination of your father and mother, this is also what makes your grandmother and grandfather spoil and love you very much, they are like seeing your father but the female version.

In addition to the fact that your father loves your mother and you very much, your father made a small agenda that every 2 years you, your mother, and your father, will visit the Berg Empire, your mother's hometown Arvis.

The baron's residence is very different from the earl's residence where you live, if the Earl's residence is full of white buildings that have intricate carvings and statues that you will wonder which is the main residence, then the Baron's residence is only a 2-story building that is not so big with a fairly large yard.

Well, whatever it is, home is home.

That was when you first met Lyla and Kayle, at that time you were still 11 years old, and now you are 14 years old.

This is the second time you have visited your mother's hometown. For you, Arvis is beautiful, especially the forest, but your instincts say that behind the beauty there must always be ugliness that is hidden tightly, but you don't know what the ugliness is.

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After separating from Lyla and Kyle, you were scolded by your mother to the fullest. That is a sign that your mother loves you very much.

While your father just laughed out loud seeing your condition.

"Well, I thought our stray kitten likes to explore Tera, look at her hair, Hahaha" laughing out loud until he almost spilled the coffee in his hand.

"Don't defend her Vincent! This could become a habit!"

Finally you and your father knelt down with your mother holding a broom standing upright scolding the two of you who were behaving immaturely and childishly. The baron's residence is as comfortable as Arvis' heaven and the servants greatly adore your harmonious family atmosphere which is very different from other nobles.

Your father's name is Vincent Zeredith Von Alvern. A noble from an empire quite far from the Berg Empire.

Your mother's name is Teresa Von Adelaide.

Your father is a noble with the title of earl of the Alvern Territory.

And your mother is the daughter of a baron from the Berg Empire, the Arvis Territory, the Adelaide Baron family.

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The afternoon where this is your second day in Arvis, you visit the Berg Empire, Meet the emperor and empress.

After visiting your father and mother let you go exploring within a period of only the Arvis forest and nothing more.

Running excitedly, the lilac dress that fits your body moves gently in the wind, Your snow-white hair moves gently as you run, you wait at the usual place where Lyla and Kyle and you chatted 2 years ago, at a large tree, a willow tree.

You stood under a willow tree looking around the beautiful Arvis Lake, butterflies flying around you, various colors.

You sat looking at Arvis Lake while waiting for Lyla and Kyle to come.

Unfortunately you did not know and did not realize that, at Arvis Lake, someone had been watching you closely.

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Matthias as usual at the age of 17, did his noble routine as a duke of Arvis and.

That afternoon was very hot, naked, Matthias swam around Arvis Lake in the Annex, a private place that not many people visited, while swimming, Matthias saw the willow tree that Layla usually sat on, the same tree where he caught Layla accidentally seeing him swimming naked.

For Matthias Layla was just an ordinary girl, a girl who went through a normal life path in Arvis.

expert layla what matthias saw was you, busy laughing softly playing with the butterflies around you, your long and soft white hair for matthias was like snow in spring.

If lyla is the sun and a little bird, then you are snow and a kitten.

Matthias already knows you even if you don't know him.

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Imperial palace berg

Matthias, 11 years old.

With his mother Elysee von herhardt, and his grandmother Norma Catharina Von herhardt, chatting with various nobles from all over the empire.

Looking around matthias' eyes accidentally saw the other side of the room where he saw a girl who he thought was 8 years old.

A petite body, a soft and smooth blue dress, the type of noble child in general, but that white hair, for matthias it was like the white color of snow.

Time passed quite a long time, but the main event was not over yet, bored looking around and only chatting with the old noble. Matthias excused himself to go to the imperial garden.

Tak

Tak

Tak

The sound of his leather shoes with quite sharp heels made quite a loud noise in the middle of his journey to the garden.

Upon arriving at the garden, Matthias saw the girl again, the same girl he saw at the imperial party.

There the girl stood in the middle of the rose garden, busy looking at the roses that were as red as blood, a stark contrast to her snow-white hair.

Whether he realized it or not, little Matthias was already by the side of the girl who stole his attention.

"Do you like roses?"

In Matthias' entire life, it had never occurred to him to start a conversation first, but here he was, talking to a girl who he estimated was not that far from him.

The white-haired girl turned around and looked at Matthias in confusion.

Bright amethyst eyes met sky-blue eyes. Purple and blue.

Matthias in his life he had never seen someone with amethyst eyes like the girl in front of him.

Usually the colors he saw were hazel, gray, yellow, blue, dark blue, and green, but purple... that was something new.

The snow-haired girl answered.

"I like it, why ask?"

Matthias was not sure but as if his mouth moved on its own and answered.

"I also like roses just like you"

That night. Matthias never asked the name of the snow-haired girl with purple Amethyst eyes.

Neither his mother nor grandmother knew that he met a girl who was not much different from him, at the annual noble event in the corner of the world.

For Matthias the snow-white-haired girl with purple amethyst eyes was his secret, his little secret that he didn't want people to know.

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Matthias swam in the Arvis lake, annex, staring at you who was busy looking at butterflies, not realizing that someone was staring at you.

He saw you 2 days ago, with the doctor's son and the gardener's nephew, for Matthias Kyle is a volatile teenager, Layla is an ordinary girl and you, for Matthias you are noble lady who befriends a commoner? Clearly that is a deviation from social life of aristocrat.

A deviant noblewoman who hangs out with commoners.

Busy burying the carcasses of birds hunted by nobles and himself.

For Matthias, Layla is a girl who likes to cry, is troublesome and goes the wrong way.

And you for Matthias are a deviant noble lady, who really likes to dirty your dress, you look like a cat who is not aware of being covered in mud all over her body.

Chuckling softly, how could he forget you. you, the same girl he met 6 years ago, his little secret.

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That afternoon you were busy playing with Lyla and Kayle, walking slowly along the Arvis forest path or people call it Arvis heaven.

Busy staring at the wild flowers and you saw a wild rose bush, with white and pink colors that clashed. Once again you ruined your dress, well anyway the roses were beautiful and you didn't expect a white stray kitten to be caught there.

Feeling pity and sympathy you knelt down which made your dress that was already torn by the thorns of the wild bushes become even more damaged by the dirt of the ground, slowly releasing the white kitten. which was caught between the tendrils of wild grass you didn't even realize that your chain bracelet with amethyst diamonds was caught there, fortunately there were no wounds on the cute cat, you put the kitten gently on the ground.

The white kitten was busy licking its tiny feet, you had to restrain yourself from squeezing and kissing the kitten affectionately.

You were busy admiring the white kitten until you didn't realize a horse neighing sound was right not far behind you, you turned around slowly, there you saw, the young duke Arvis in his hunting suit, you saw him holding his rifle, the rifle was pointing right in the middle of the position, between you and the white kitten.

You felt that this young duke wanted to hunt the kitten, quickly you stood up and in a position to block the duke's rifle

"Don't! Duke do you also hunt a cats?! Aren't birds enough for you?"

Looking annoyed at the duke arvis who had now gotten off his horse.

Walking slowly the young duke arvis stopped in front of you, he was tall, sturdy and fit, the body type of a trained soldier.

You were only as tall as his chest, amethyst and blue eyes collided with each other.

"Duke? Do you know who I am?" A soft and deep voice came from the duke in front of you.

"Who doesn't know the duke, the perfect work of god from the arvis region, the young duke herhardt, Matthias Von Herhardt"

You answered casually which was answered by a chuckle from him.

You almost wanted to slap his face, you didn't know why but you didn't like the way he chuckled! Just almost.

"You know me, but I don't know you, why don't you introduce yourself to me?" Matthias' soft but deep baritone voice spoke to you.

You introduced yourself to him.

"Which family are you from?" Matthias asked you again.

"Alvern, Roshanette Empire, Alvern Territory"

Answering casually because you don't want to be familiar with this man!.

Silence fell on the two people, the man was busy staring at the woman, while the woman was busy staring at the kitten that was right under his left foot.

Because you didn't want to linger there with the young duke Arvis, you gently picked up the kitten.

"Nice to meet you, Duke, have a nice day"

Then you went to take the kitten away from him.

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Matthias he was still standing there staring at the place where you were standing in front of him.

You were so small, so fragile, Matthias was sure that if he touched an inch of your hand, maybe you would be crushed in his grip.

When he was about to return to his horse, Matthias' eyes accidentally caught the soft gleam of the wild grass tendrils.

Walking slowly towards the weeds, crouching down and there Matthias saw, the diamond chain bracelet that had an amethyst color was caught around the weeds.

Grinning slowly, Matthias took the bracelet, even when the bracelet was in his hand, it was very small, Matthias measured the hole of the bracelet on his finger, and it only fit 3 fingers.

Chuckling softly Matthias returned to his horse while carrying the item he took happily and he was not sure whether to return it or not.

Unfortunately for Matthias that was the last time you and him met.

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7 years, 7 years Matthias has not seen you, he still keeps your bracelet that he stole secretly take and never returned to you.

For 7 long years, he had to go through 2 years of war, a time when he pretended to be engaged to his distant cousin, Claudine, many rumors fell on him saying that he was playing behind his back with Lyla, the gardener's niece just because Matthias liked to make her cry like accidentally throwing her hat to the lake and almost drowned.

Or hunted migratory animals just to say the sentence that Layla was just an ordinary girl and to make layla know her place .

His engagement with Claudine ended in failure because Claudine loved Rittie, her other distant cousin.

And the engagement between Layla and Kyle, 2 unstable teenagers who were strange in Matthias' eyes.

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That night Matthias, his grandmother and his mother ate quietly, only the sound of spoons and forks could be heard

"Matthias, how long will you continue to reject proposals from several noble families?"

Elysee his mother looked at Matthias with tired eyes.

While his grandmother just chuckled softly.

"Are you really with that garden girl ?!"

Elysee stared at Matthias' eyes uneasy.

Matthias he just ate and drank quietly he didn't even answer his mother's question.

"Matthias Von Herhardt! Answer your mother!." Staring fiercely at Matthias, her only child, Elysee, gripped the fork and knife tightly in her hands.

"Mother, even flies will be attracted to dirt rather than rumors of nobles"

Matthias spoke with an authoritative language, if traced, Matthias said that did his mother prefer to hear rumors of nobles that were not true?

Before Elysee had time to speak, Matthias said again.

"1 month, give me 1 month, and I will bring a wife, mother"

After saying that, Matthias left the dining room.

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You, 21 years old, very young and beautiful, you are currently at the age where noble ladies get married.

But instead of getting married, your parents asked you to focus on studying and pursuing your dreams, make yourself happy and have fun.

You are studying medicine, mental health and psychology.

You are currently in the Berg Empire, after 7 years of never returning.

Unlike 7 years ago where you were with your parents, this time you were alone, considering you were old enough.

You visited only for a moment, to see Kyle and Lyla who were getting married.

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Currently you were at the baron's residence of your mother's family, even though your grandparents had passed away, the baron's residence was still well maintained.

You spent the remaining 2 days shopping and helping Layla.

The 3rd day, you spent your time in the Arvis forest alone.

Staring around the forest that you passed through 7 years ago with Kyle and Layla, you didn't expect that now they would be getting married.

You stared at a flock of birds flying, until you felt a cold metal object pressing against the back of your head.

Turning slowly, exactly about 3 feet away, stood the duke of Arvis, Matthias von Herhardt! The man you least wanted to meet!

Matthias stood in all his glory pointing his hunting rifle at you.

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Matthias thinks you are too much, leaving without saying goodbye and then coming so suddenly, how can he be calm when his heart beats so fast just by muttering your name, just by seeing you breathe.

You haven't changed at all, for Matthias you are still the white-haired girl, the noble lady who got into the hang out with commoners, and the noble lady who is like a stray cat who likes to dirty her dress with dirt and mud.

"Duke, do you intend to kill me?"

Asking Matthias carefully.

Instead of lowering his muzzle, Matthias chuckled and said

"Why is that? Are you afraid of me?"

You looked at Matthias in disgust.

"Everyone would be afraid if a stranger suddenly pointed a gun at their head"

Again, Matthias only answered with a laugh that seemed to be mocking you.

"Well, it's not wrong"

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Unfortunately, that afternoon you spent being forced to accompany Matthias hunting! He used his authority, saying that you were in his territory, and someone who was not from this territory had to obey the orders of the one who held the highest position.

You felt like slapping, hitting, and swearing at the man sitting on his horse! As for you?! You were walking holding his rifle that you were sure weighed almost 4 kg!

This duke is crazy! He must be the incarnation of the devil!

"Lady, are you cursing me?" Matthias grinned slightly, looking down at where you were walking while holding his rifle.

"I'm not the duke, why should I even do that?"

Answering half-truthfully. You almost rolled your eyes in annoyance!

Matthias he just grinned slightly looking at you, it was very clear to him that you were cursing him, it was very entertaining for him, your expression really wanted to make him bite your cheek in annoyance. He had to be patient, just a little longer, and you would be his.

That afternoon you spent your time reluctantly becoming Matthias' assistant.

You are only 5 days in the Berg Empire after that you will return to the Roshanette Empire, Alvern region.

Unfortunately for you it seems like it was just a dream for you.

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You don't know what what happened to you, after becoming Matthias's hunting rifle assistant that afternoon, right when Matthias was taking you back to Baron Adelaide's residence.

You felt like your head was hit by a very hard object, before you even had time to be inside the residence, you only saw darkness and a warm arm hugging you.

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The Annex, another residence in the main area of ​​the Herhardt residence, was Matthias's main house, Matthias's main residence as a duke and where he relaxed and was himself. Surrounded by the clear Arvis lake which was connected by a pier that was integrated with his residence in the Annex.

Slowly smoking a tobacco cigarette, Matthias stared at you there, his little secret, sleeping soundly in his bed.

Matthias knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself, he had held himself back enough, looking around the room, which was currently very messy, furniture was destroyed, clothes were scattered, and the bed was very messy.

Matthias has claimed you as his, maybe you will hate him, but Matthias doesn't care, it took him 7 years to realize that he loves you, love? Matthias wanted to laugh so much, in his entire life, he never thought he could fall in love and feel love.

Slowly extinguishing his cigarette, Matthias walked towards the bed, opening your legs a little, that's where Matthias saw the remaining traces of your love activities left behind.

Chuckling softly, Matthias looked at you, your eyes were swollen from crying, even though you were on sleeping pills, you were still able to refuse him.

Looking at your ring finger which now has a diamond ring embedded in it.

Tomorrow Matthias will marry you, make you Duchess Herhardt and tell your parents in the Roshanette Empire, that their child is married.

Matthias only needs 1 week to find a wife, which is you, and 1 month is a phrase that Matthias plays with and gives to his mother as another form of sentence, namely

"In 1 month I will give you a grandson and bring a wife , so be patient mother, soon you will have daughter in law and became a grandma".

Matthias has got you, his, his life, his woman, his wife, the mother of his children, his little secret.

Even if you try to run away from him, Matthias will lock you away from the outside world, whatever it is you are his.

Kissing your forehead softly, Matthias looks at you with love, passion and a deep sense of possessiveness and obsession.

You are his little secret, his secret that he really doesn't want anyone else to see, hear or interact with. Because you are his.

His secret, his little secret.

.

.

.

*Source Image : pinterest

*Source Image : pinterest

*Source Image : pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Oneshot.

Special Story for my Love; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut

Tag list; @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

[iceunhie]

indirect kiss moments !

summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....

featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham

notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)

WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working

wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.

why, you ask? it's all because of you.

he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.

all because of a damn indirect kiss.

his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.

it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—

….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.

if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.

[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.

you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]

KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)

kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.

it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.

…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.

small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.

perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?

oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.

[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.

the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]

[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.

[sleepyeepyp3rson]

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader

John Price, former two-time Wold Champion, the Bear of the Ring, back from retirement. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, a newcomer, moving on up to the big leagues. The Golden Boy of London. John "Soap" MacTavish, the Street Fight Champion, the half of the most menacing duo in WWE history. And "Ghost," the Shadow of the Ring, who won last seasons duo Championship with Soap.

an: i JUST got into wwe, so sorry for any inaccuracies! correct me, it's always fun to learn more :3 also also! my first full fic 😭😭 got SO SCARED posting this so sorry if it low key sucks, if it doesn't, i have plans for a second one + shoutout to my awsome beta reader (my best friend)

(masterlist)

Recently, one of the announcers retired after a long career, and WWE scrambled to find a suitable replacement that wouldn't cause an uproar in the dedicated fanbase.

They chose you. A person with an impressive resume and a quick wit, willing to be accidentally trampled if need be. And the best part for the company? The fans love you, some even making compilations and edits of you. Of the few moments you get shown on camera at least. (The wrestlers are the main event.) And the wrestlers seem to like you just fine. Better than the refs and each other, at least. The 141 seem to like you the most, though.

Price, just coming back from a short retirement, was the first match you narrated. You loved him growing up, the finishing moves, the walkout song (Thunderstruck AC/DC,) everything. He put the attitude in the Attitude Era, the main event, the headliner. Then he retired.

You cried during his final show. Being one of the live announcers for his comeback now is huge for you.

He walked out on the ring, fought like hell, and at one point he slung his opponent over the net and the guy crashed into your table. Admittedly it was a little frightening, but seeing John Price drag the guy kicking and screaming back into the ring by his hair was enough of a reward. And the gruff "Sorry, dove," he said to you certainly didn't make anything worse.

But you thought that was it for the nicknames.

Until Gaz. Every match he has, whenever he has the mic, he's referencing you at least once, with an added "Love" or "Sunshine" to it. That alone gave you a thousand more followers on your Instagram, but the post he made on Twitter? At least ten thousand. And it wasn't anything major, but being the "Golden Boy" comes with certain privileges, and he uses them well. You start researching him after that, and he hasn't done that for any other announcer.

Soap and Ghost’s first team-up of the season has them against the men they stole the Duo Champions titles from. Graves and Makarov. Match made in Hell, the two of them. They can't stand each other, but they hate the 141 boys enough to justify a team-up.

During the match, Soap broke Makarov's arm. Maybe he just forgot it wasn't his usual rules, or maybe it was the reference he made to you during the pre-fight trash-talk session. Either way, Ghost had his back, as always, and covered for him by throwing the rest of the match as the script told them to. Either way, they were disqualified.

And you? You're having the time of your life. The fights are right up by your face, the adrenaline rush right there, and this time you actually get to chase it.

Maybe you're egging them on a bit. Grinning like mad during Price's first match, responding to Gaz's tweet and comments with nothing short of glowing praise, giving colorful commentary during Soap and Ghost’s fight. But who can blame you, really? For liking your job, for entertaining people.

Maybe that's why this match, the grand match between Task Force 141 and The Shadows is packed. You entertain people just as much as the wrestlers.

The lights flash, Thunderstruck plays, the 141 boys walk out. Then here comes Graves for a rematch against the ones who broke his arm, complete with his entourage behind him. Surprisingly the whole broken arm thing fits the storyline well, after some panicking from the writers and producers.

"Your boy broke my arm." Graves starts, grin sharp, canines poking out. Grinning despite the red-hot pain in his arm.

"We do what we have to. Keep your mouth shut next time, aye?" It's a measured response from Price, but the headbutt Soap does as soon as the sentence settles is definitely not.

"Grab your popcorn people, the world's Street Fight Champion Soap is jumping right into the fight!" And there's your voice, over the speakers. Sounding thrilled.

The fans both cheer and jeer and Ghost’s chant is started up, a steady thump, thump, of boots on the floor of the stadium.

The fight starts without much else, men thrown and chairs cracked over heads. With the disadvantage Graves has, it's clear who will win, but the play-by-play is still fun to give.

"Oh! And Graves has got Soap on the ropes, can he break his hold- and Ghost runs up behind him, always on his six, yanking Graves away! This is the Champion duo ladies and gentlemen."

And maybe it's distracting the boys a little. Maybe Johnny puffs up a little when you point out his title, maybe Ghost looks over at the booth for a little too long. Just maybe. And just maybe that gives the Shadows an opening for a takedown move or two. And just maybe, the 141 loses twice in a row.

[nariism]

{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]

Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞

a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3

you've been spoiling him to no end.

if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.

right now, he just feels miserable.

wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.

you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.

"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.

"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.

"it’s just a necklace."

"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.

"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."

you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"

the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."

"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"

"feed me."

"..."

his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.

if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.

and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.

the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.

so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.

that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.

you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.

either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.

"i should get sick more often," he muses.

you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.

"no... please don't."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[abbysbug]

streamer!abby x streamer!reader HCs

a/n: i enjoy writing streamer!ellie so much that i've decided i wanna try writing streamer!abby too :p

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

• she mostly plays call of duty or league of legends!! those are her favourite games ever.

• her setup is very clean, including her room. she has a white setup with pink/purple neon lights.

• her equipment is very expensive and she always has the newest things. she never wants to waste her old equipment tho. she always does giveaways to her viewers or friends.

• she KNOWS how hot she is and what type of chokehold she has on her viewers. she'll casually flex her arms. it makes her chat go crazy.

@abbysonlyone oh my GODDD thats my muscle mommy guys

@teddybear48 replied BACK TF OFF THTAS LITERALLY MY MUSCLE MOMMY

• "guys chill. you can all have a piece of me." she has this cocky grin on her face as she says that.

• she's positioned her camera so alice can be seen sleeping in her bed. everyone finds alice adorable and constantly ask for pictures of her.

• she typically streams alone. she feels more connected to her viewers that way, buttt she does occasionally make the exception and stream with you. her viewers love watching you both interact with each other.

• "abigail anderson, if you steal my kill one more fucking time, I'm going to break up with you."

• "ooh, so scary."

• she'd steal your kill again and look over at you with a grin on her face. you'd throw your pillow that rested in your lap at her, bonking her on the head.

• people made edits out of that. it was one of abby's most embarrassing moments. you thought it was hilarious.

• she posts gym pics on her instagram.

• she displays herself to be very confident at streamer events, but inside she's panicking and overthinking everything. you always notice when she's feeling anxious and you slip your hand into hers.

• you guys are very affectionate on stream!! at first, abby was nervous and didn't enjoy pda much, but overtime she's started to like it.

• you both like to share kisses when one of you are streaming. people think it's adorable and hot.

• she has auto caps turned on and uses 24 hour time.

@therealabbyanderson Hey guys, I'll be streaming at 21:00 tonight. It'll just be a cozy Minecraft stream.

@ynplayz replied bruh just say 9pm and why are you using such correct grammar ITS TWITTER!!

@therealabbyanderson replied Let me do what I want to do.

@ynplayz replied people are gonna think im a controlling partner omg TURN THAT SHIT OFF ABBY

• she still has not turned it off.

[doki-doki-imagines]

They compliment you feat. mk1 bi-han, kitana, kung lao

author note: felt like I was going to explode if I didn't post them today, I hope it's not complete trash LOL.

Bi-Han: -It was a quiet morning, for once you were the first to wake up, so you started cooking for the both of you. -Then you felt the arms of your lover wrapping around your waist, always so chilly against your body. -You feel his right cheekbone brush against yours, like a kitty searching for affection, then his chin rests on your shoulder, you can feel his black eyes on you. "Dawn creates light and shades on your face, making your feature stand out even more, I didn't think it was possible to make you look even more beautiful." -You choke on your own spit, stunned by the honeyed words dripping from your partner lips. -What was happening? Did Bi-Han hit his head during sparring? In any case, there's no way you'll stop him. -Kettle whistle, but you don't move, still looking at Bi-Han with wide eyes. -He sighs, kisses your cheek, and takes the kettle, pouring the boiling water into his cup, where you previously put the tea bag. -"Moron, if this is your reaction, I'll have to filter my thoughts again." -You shook your head, hell, you don't think you'll ever be able to go back now, his sweet words a drug that got you immediately addicted. Sadly, you aren't used to compliments anymore; you can just stutter out a no, while you feel heath on your cheeks. -Bi-Han smirks at you, a playful gesture you rarely see (and you are still thanking the gods that blessed you this morning) his right hand reaching for the apple of your cheek, pulling it in between his index and middle fingers before snapping it back in place. -"Sit down, I'll make you coffee maybe it will wake you up." -You aren't sure if you want to wake up.

Kitana: -You are waiting for her to return from work, your stomach churning always worried something bad may have happened. -You are reading a novel when you feel the door of the living room opening. You lift your head up, eager to see your lover come in. -And she does, a ray of sunshine deep into the night. -Kitana walks to you, a tired smile on her face, 'till she reaches you behind the armchair you are sitting on. -"Good night beautiful, first time here?" You say, chuckling at your own silliness. -Kitana chuckles along, the kind that shows the wonderful smile that always makes you understand how lucky you are. -"Since you leave me breathless every time I look at you-" Her face lean closer to yours "maybe it is" her plush lips kiss your forehead before she leaves to change in more comfortable clothing. -You curl on yourself, face hidden inside your book, and you are pretty sure your head is fuming for how fast the gears in your brain are working. -"Don't curl up, dear! You know it's bad for your back" Kitana shouts from your shared bedroom "I don't want my princess to get back pain" she whispers the last part. -Maybe one day she will get bold enough to freely speak her mind, for now you'll have to cheerish this rare moment of softness.

Kung Lao: -You tried a new recipe today, made with the fresh vegetables Kung Lao and Raiden picked up at dawn. -Saying you were nervous is a euphemism. You didn't want to fail, but even more to thrash the food your friend and boyfriend grew and picked up after so much effort. -You put the food on the table, useless to say to start the meal, Kung Lao cheeks were already full, and Raiden followed soon. -The judgment arrived soon, the burp coming from your partner mouth a telltale sign and a bad habit you still weren't able to correct. -"My love, the food was amazing, delicious!" Kung Lao stands up, arms open ready to embrace your body "Not that I have any doubts, your cooking skill just another plus of my wonderful-" He kisses your nose "amazing-" his lips touch your left cheek "beautiful dove" his lips finally rest on yours. -You reciprocate the kiss, but your mind is elsewhere, so used to Kung Lao singing his own praises without sparing a nice word to anybody else, you didn't expect so many compliments. -You break the kiss when you hear Raiden coughing in the background, heath flooding your face while your boyfriend was totally unaffected, still looking at you with that softness he always reserves for you. -Kung Lao soon returns at the table to finish the meal together with Raiden, and then they both go back to train. -But not before smooching your cheek, lips staining your skin with, what you guessed was the juice of the peach Kung Lao eat before going back to work. -You clean yourself with the back of your hand before going back to work, the comoliments of your boyfriend still reverberating into your brain, a nice intrusive thought that won't leave you for the rest of the day.

[ccstiles]

I had originally posted this through a reblog of the art, but decided it would be easier to just make a post with it, but anyways

Fic inspired by this art and the trans!Penelope AU by @bigidiotenergytm , go check it out!!

(in the AU, Penelope's preferred name is Vasileios, just so you know!)

Could you love me again?

"Penelope..."

Odysseus said to himself, scared to open the oh so familiar doors in front of him.

He didn't know how she would react to him, to what he had become. Last she saw of him, he was simply a man going off to war, to help his brotherin, but now... He was caked in blood, and looked like he hadn't seen a bath in years.

He took a deep breath, gathering as much courage as he could, and he pushed the doors open.

His eyes were stuck to the floor, unable to look up at his wife that he knew was standing there.

"Is it you?"

Odysseus was expecting a soft voice to greet him, not knowing if it was going to be filled with hurt, anger, or love.

"Have my prayers been answered?"

But as he heard who was speaking to him, his eyes widened, not expecting the voice he was greeted with.

"Is it really you standing there? Or am I dreaming once more?"

Odysseus began to look up as the deeper voice registered in his mind.

"You look different. Your eyes look tired, your frame is lighter, your smile torn."

Finally, as his eyes landed on the person that was speaking, he felt his heart drop.

"Is it really you my love?"

It wasn't her.

Where was she?

"Who... Who are you?" Odysseus asked the person, the man, in front of him, his anger growing as he continued to speak, "what have you done to my wife?"

"Ody," the man began to take a step towards Odysseus, but he was quick to draw the sword at his hip.

"Where is Penelope?!" He all but yelled, staring down the man in front of him, threatening him with his sword.

"Odysseus, it's me," the man in front of him stepped back, figuring it best to reason with the angered king at a distance.

Odysseus stared for a moment at the man, his face seeming familiar yet not at the same time, his voice, deep but still light as he talked, and his eyes...

The eyes he saw every time he closed his own to sleep. Eyes that both haunted and eased him any time he thought of them during his 20 year long journey.

Her eyes.

His eyes?

Odysseus lowered his sword as these thoughts raced through his mind.

"....Penny?" His voice was quiet, confused and curious as the pieces started to click into place in his head.

The man nodded, still uncertain as he brought his hands to his chest in comfort, something she- he? Would always do when upset.

"Vasileios," he corrected quietly, scared at how Odysseus would react to the name. "I... I know I am different," Vasileios continued, "I am not the woman you fell in love with, the woman you were looking to be with when you returned."

Odysseus' shoulders began to lower as Penelope- Vasileios? talked. He took the other in, everything that was the same and everything that was different.

"...neither am I" Odysseus stated, "I am not the man you fell for under the olive tree all those years ago. I've done so much..."

As the two lovers looked at each other, at what they had become, fear struck them both that all this waiting was for nothing, that they couldn't love each other as they had 20 years ago.

"... What have you done?" Vasileios asked, curious.

"So much," Odysseus breathed, like the weight of his actions suffocated him, "killed, betrayed, hurt, crossed, everyone I saw. Gods, mortals, giants and monsters, none escaped the bloodshed."

Vasileios looked at him with sympathy in his eyes, listening as Odysseus laid his sins out for the other to see.

"Would... Would you ever fall in love with me again?" Odysseus braced himself as he asked the question that rattled around in his brain. After everything he'd done, after the monster he had become, would he love him the same?

"...I knew that those years at war and years disappeared would leave you with blood on your hands. I was prepared to see you with horrors of war painted across your thoughts and dreams." Vasileios' face softened as he spilled his own heart out for Odysseus, "You are still the man I fell for, the man I married, even if you have crossed those that once trusted you, I still love you. I never stopped."

Odysseus was shocked at his words, his eyes filling with tears and his heart filling with love knowing that even after the horrors he had committed, they didn't matter to him.

"But..." Vasileios looked down as he fidgeted with his hands, "could you ever love me again?"

Odysseus felt his heart break, hearing the sadness and fear in the other's voice.

"Pen- Vasileios," Odysseus corrected himself as he slowly walked towards the other, letting his sword drop onto a nearby table, "my love. No matter how you change, no matter if your voice deepens, if you grow hair on your chin and cheeks, if your muscles tone, if anything, you are still you. You are still the mind that interested and intrigued me, the soul I connected with, the person I love and married. No matter how your physical body changes, you are still you; the person I love."

Odysseus' vision blurred with tears as Vasileios ran to embrace him, feeling tears on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his lover, never wanting to let go ever again.

They stood there in a tight embrace, scared that if they let go that the other would disappear.

Vasileios slowly pulled away to look up at Odysseus, cupping his cheek in his hand.

"How long has it been?" Vasileios asked, tears still falling.

"20 years..." Odysseus sighed, bringing his forehead to rest on Vasileios'.

"I love you"