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characterillustrationoliviap · 2 years ago

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Character Illustration: Class 1

I started this class by opening up some of the palettes which Toby said we would be using today. These palettes were the layers palette, colour palette (colour wheel) and the brush palette. I then saved the layout as a workspace by selecting new workspace in window.

Today we talked about line work for illustrations. We were all given a Wacom tablet to plug into our computer and then I played around with it for a bit. It's very different to drawing on paper or an iPad as what you're drawing appears on the screen rather than the tablet.

I tried drawing a straight line and a curvy line. As you can see, the lines aren't very clean and are really bumpy.

To fix this, I needed to increase the smoothing of the brush. Originally it was at 0% so I tried it at 50% and 100%. This allowed me to understand how the tool works and which percentage I should have it on when drawing.

This was the 50%.

This is the 100%.

Since I am use to drawing on paper or onto a screen, it was difficult at first getting the line to go in the right direction. To refine this skill I drew two Xs and practiced drawing a smooth curved or straight line that went from one to another. It became easier time and I found zoning in helped at times. I think this is something would definitely take time to get really good at so I'll just have to be patient.

Using these curving lines we then tried to draw an eye. It was just a quick rough exercise to adjust to the tablet. I added another layer underneath and gave the eye an iris colour. I played around which the sensitivity of the tablet and pen when I made the specks in the eye.

We then moved on to tracing a shape from a template. The first template we were given was this duck. It has a large variety of line lengths and curves so it will be a really good drawing to use to adjust to the tablet. I brought the image into PhotoShop and then added a layer. I placed a white rectangle over the drawing and then lowered the opacity to make the sketch less visible.

I then added another layer and started to draw the outline of the duck. This took we a bit of time as I was trying to make the lines as smooth and clean as possible. For a few sections, I had to redo the line about 10 times until I produced one I was happy with.

This was the final outline I had for the duck. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I think the curves are mostly all really smooth. The eyes are a bit rough but it's the best I was able to do. I decided to go for more of an angry duck so I gave him some big tilted eyebrows.

I then moved on to colouring the duck. I decided for this drawing I wanted to try and get use to the tablet more so I coloured the entire illustration in by hand rather than using shortcuts like fill. I'll use these better techniques in my second drawing.

I started by adding base colours on a layer behind the outline. I coloured the entire duck in a pale yellow colour for a start. This gave me a simple base colour to build off.

I then went and added all of my other base colours using the brush tool again. I frequently went over a line so I used the option key and mouse to select the other colour and quickly fixed it.

The next step was to add some details. I started by adding some detail to the eyes. Since he was angry I wanted to give him some red bloodshot eyes to match his fury. I made my brush a lot smaller and changed the colour to red. I then made a collection of squiggly, branching lines. I then wanted to add a redness around the edge of the eye. I started made my brush a lot bigger so it would blend evenly. I lowered the opacity of the brush to about 10% and started to build up the redness.

I then added some shadows and highlights to the beak. I used the colour wheel so select a slightly darker shade of orange. Shadows typically are under raised points so I added them under lines on the beak as shown in the image. I added a highlight on the top of the beak and a small one on the bottom.

I then moved on to his outfit. I decided to make it so it looks like he was wearing a vest with some sort of shell (bullet) belt. I started by adding the darker grey shadow to vest. I just played around with the shape of the shadow as there wasn't any guide in the template. I then added some shadows on to the neck of the vest. I also changed the colours of the legs to match the darker orange from the beak. I think the yellow was a bit too light.

I then moved on to adding highlights and shadows onto the boots. I made the boots have a massive lip rather than a really thin one. I added a lighter shade of blue so that the darker one became the shadow. It took me quite a while to get the shape of the shadow right as I was trying to make it fit with the rest of the boot.

I then added some highlights to it to make them seems shiny and new.

I then added some shadows and highlights onto the duck itself. I added some shadows on the underside of some feathers and under his eyebrows to help express the anger. I added some highlights on the top of his head and on his wings.

This was first final drawing. I'm really pleased with the outcome as I've never drawn anything on PhotoShop or using a wacom tablet so I think this was a really successful first attempt. Next time I'd really like to try and add some more shading using brushes with lower opacities. I think this would really elevate the illustration. I think tomorrow I'll move on to the Rooster cop template and try colouring in using the proper way shown in the tutorial.

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comicaurora · 2 years ago

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How old were you when you decided to start taking Aurora seriously? ("taking seriously" as in, deciding to start making it a comic, and putting work into making it come to life rather than it just be a dream project or a fun thought)

File dates indicate I first started drawing proper test pages for the comic at the very beginning of 2018 (a random snippet of a very early draft of Dainix's intro arc, just to get a feel for the comic tools in CSP) although I remember I had drawn up some short experimental intro comics probably as early as 2016, and I had full digital illustrations of some of the characters in my college application portfolio around 2013-2014, although I don't think any of those made it onto my current computer.

I started on the proper comic, like the actual illustrated pages that made it onto the site, in march of 2019, but it seems like I created those files as early as october of 2017, so it's possible I was playing with the sketch of the first chapter pretty dang early.

It's a little tricky to answer this question, because the very first form this story took was comics I drew in my old sketchbooks, so there was never a time when I didn't want to make it exist in some comic-shaped form. Initially I just wanted to make a story for me to read, because I was very bored and hungry for fantasy that wasn't boring, depressing or both. But somewhere along the line it occurred to me that I could make something other people would want to read too. I don't know exactly when I made that switch - I suspect it was fairly early in the process, because due to who I am as a person I have a very strong urge to share what I make. For me, just making the thing wasn't enough - I got so much more energy from showing it to people and discussing it with them than just drawing it for myself. I got zero interest or positive feedback from my peers in middle school and quickly resolved not to share anything until I was certain it was good, which in hindsight was a maladaptive attempt to avoid being bullied by people who, shockingly, didn't actually determine their bullying schedule off any internal logic I could work around. But it did motivate me to practice a lot and branch out artistically in directions that had previously not interested me. Having a distant but attainable end goal was exactly the kind of carrot on a stick I needed to lure my baby ADHD brain into actually sticking with something for a change.

At this stage I'd say it was firmly "I want to do this someday." Not because it wasn't practical or realistic, but because I wasn't ready. That's how it was through most of high school, though after I got my first drawing tablet and began exploring digital art around 2012-2013, things went from "it'd be cool someday" to "I have the tools I need to do this as soon as I'm ready." After that I started playing with drawing programs, acclimating to the weird experience of using a drawing tablet instead of pencil on paper, and even toying with a little simple cel animation with the built-in bare-bones app that came with my tablet.

The idea of drawing the illustrations for the videos I was starting to do came from the same impulse - I wanted to get better at digital art, and needed to in order to make the comic a viable possibility. Again, it let me trick my brain into focusing on getting really good at something, which was a practice I'd never been able to sustain for long without a concrete end goal in mind. Sticking with something for its own sake didn't work - I needed that delicious dopamine feedback to keep me going, and the constant rush of "I'm getting better at this and that's getting me closer to this thing I really really want" apparently did the trick.

But I actually think this is around where I started faltering - late high school and very early college, so like 2012-2014. Aurora was the first big writing project I'd ever really loved, and I knew from experience that first writing projects were usually bad. They were valuable for skill-building and refinement, but were they actually worth showing to anyone? Plus my notes/timeline file had gotten really massive and unwieldy at this point, and playing with the cast and story was turning into a chore of continuity rather than a fun exercise. It was getting bloated - rather than making the story go anywhere I was just adding little bits onto it every time they occurred to me. Every cool idea I was having had to be mashed into this one world I was playing with, and I worried it was getting out of hand. So I dropped it for over a year and spent my time playing with an urban fantasy ghost story concept instead. That got far enough in development that I still have a saved color swatch for it.

I played with it and built it out and felt more serious and cool with this Edgy Dark Adventure with a psychopomp vs an immortal witch vampire and a wild cast of colorful supporting weirdos, and then I realized I was really bored. Once again I'd built a cast of characters without a plot to actually use them, only this time they weren't even characters I particularly liked.

So I tentatively went back to Aurora. I think this can't have been much before 2014, but I'm not certain on that. And with the benefit of a year's time on the backburner, I'd boiled it down to the core elements I really liked and rendered out all the filler and padding I'd stuffed it full of back when I was just using it to store every cool idea and character I had. I was relieved to know that this story and cast of characters I liked so much was turning out to be actually worth exploring, and I went a lot harder on the worldbuilding and establishing an actual set of arcs and plots to keep the characters engaged and occupied by an interesting diversity of setpieces, side characters and events.

By early college (2014-2015) I think I was back in the swing of things, determined to actually make the comic happen (once I was ready and good enough, natch) and enthused about rewriting the basic arcs and beats from scratch rather than touching that bloated timeline file I'd abandoned a year earlier. By junior year (2017) I have a distinct memory of doodling out the first designs for Tynan in my Greek Thought And Lit course, which is a pretty good indicator that I was getting committed to the granular parts of the story.

It wasn't until after I graduated in 2018 that I really started thinking about, you know. actually doing it. not someday, now. I was free from school and mentally decompressing from a decade and a half of nonstop stress and pressure, the channel had hit its first major jump and was actually making us a proper living so I didn't need to pivot to a job hunt like I'd feared, and if I didn't bite the bullet and start immediately I would probably just keep procrastinating it out of a mounting sense of guilt and insecurity until I couldn't bear to look at it again. Sure, I could still get better, but at that point I'd done enough headfirst dives into the unknown to conclude that it is literally impossible to fully prepare for something before you experience it for the first time. If I kept waiting until I felt ready, I would never start. So that's around when I started looking into building the site, drawing up the first three chapters and going from there. Sometimes you gotta say "fuck it", push yourself off the diving board and hope you figure something out before you hit the water.

#asks #behind the curtain

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canyouhearthelight · 2 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 201

Not even gonna lie, I kinda gave up on the queue at this point. It seems like every time there is an update to the site, my scheduled posts vanish. So, instead, I brought my tablet and a mobile hotspot to work so I could post on time,

Got to do what you got to do, right?

Shout outs for this week go to @bogwalkr and @peachymis, both of whom have been going through chapters at a very impressive clip.

Thanks, as always, goes to @baelpenrose for his beta reading, and also @quantumizedinsanity, who is trying to help me get this huge thing cleaned up for AO3.

“Can I retire yet?” I groaned as I fell on my sofa.

Immediately, I levitated back to a standing position with a shriek when a disembodied voice responded. “You have four more months until then, Wisdom.”

One hand slammed into my sternum while the other braced against the nearest sturdy surface as I caught my breath. “Are… are you speaking to me again, Miys?” Thankfully, I didn’t even have to remind myself to not get my hopes up, seeing as I was half panicking and half mad as hell.

“I have never declined to speak to you.”

Wincing at the literal nature of the response, I tried again. “I was under the impression that you were angry with me, specifically, and no longer fraternizing with the humans on board, in general. This is definitely the first time in several months that you have voluntarily spoken to me unless I asked a direct question in an official capacity.”

“Technically, asking an empty room the remaining duration of your tenure in your current role with the Council is a question in an official capacity, and one which could be interpreted to be directed at me.”

Discretion was the better part of valor, and cowardice sufficed, so I agreed to let it drop. “I thought I had one Terran year after the establishment of the Colony?”

“A year which will largely consist of handing over your responsibilities and smoothing the transition, not any actual work.”

Shaking my head, I made my way to the console. “One adult beverage, hold the additional nutrients just this once,” I asked before continuing. “And I don’t know where you got the impression that handing over a job isn’t actual work.”

“I fail to see the laborious part of a transition in which you have been training your replacement options for the better part of a decade.”

“Oooo,” I drew out mischievously. “You really are talking to me again. And to what may I attribute this wondrous occasion?”

“I am simply responding to your inquiry and also attempting to report a malfunction within the computers that is preventing new information from being transmitted to the escort fleet. The time stamps are updating, but the data transmissions are simply reporting data from the last fourteen ship days. It is also transmitting the data out of sequence. It is distressing.”

Surrrre it is, bud. I’d received more impassioned weather reports. Out loud, I assured them “I’ll have Derek take a look. I assume that is why you told me rather than Pranav or Alice?”

A buzzing hum betrayed their coming excuse. “I am not entirely certain that Derek is not the cause.”

I arched a brow at the ceiling and pursed my lips to one side. “It’s not like he’s going to lie about it. He’ll just refuse to fix it.”

“I still request that you belay any inquiry in that direction until I am certain.” The response was rushed, which told me all I needed to know.

Miys had done it, and humans dinking around in the system were the scapegoat. “In that case, let me know when you’ve finished your investigation, and I will put the appropriate parties on it,” I caged.

“Duly noted. What will you do once you leave the Council?”

I twisted my neck into a very uncomfortable position, purely out of confusion. “I’m…. I’m not sure, Miys.”

“You may call me Noah, Wisdom.” There was a subsonic hum behind the normal buzz of their ‘casual’ tone.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do when I leave the Council, Noah,” I sighed, sitting on the couch again and dropping my head against the back. “I suck at glass blowing, at any constructive portions of agriculture, and my knitting is ugly at best.”

Another hum issued from the ceiling, and my heart twisted in hope for better times. “You show significant proficiency in combat medicine - a disturbing amount for a human with no record of enlistment, radicalism, or training.”

“Eyeah. We’re not going into medicine.”

“Your psychological profile is rather counter indicative. What about your aptitude in cultivating spores?”

I scowled softly. “Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than is necessary or healthy is not an aptitude.”

My drink spilled down my shirt when I heard Tyche’s voice drily intone “You would be surprised.”

“What the fuck!?” I shouted, brushing droplets off of me. “You called my sister?”

“I apologize, I did not.” A grinding noise I had never noticed before was added to their voice, and I wondered if it was a malfunction or an emotion I hadn’t identified yet. “I am unable to accurately produce the necessary level of emotional tone, and have established that Tyche’s tone is the one you are most responsive to in the regard to that emotion.”

Of fucking course. I rubbed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Hokay. Let’s run this back. You mentioned my proficiency in cultivating spores. I said ‘Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than necessary or healthy is not an aptitude’.”

“You would be surprised.”

“You want me to learn to grow fungi.” In context and less startled, I blinked several times. “Wait. Waitwait wait.” Scrabbling, I bolted to set my drink in the console for a refill while I flicked my datapad open and started typing furiously. “Noah, I need you to send me all mycologists on the Ark. If you find them before I do, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“I do not eat Terran food.”

“But you do ingest composted matter, and I can get that. You can do whatever you do while we chat. We’ll have dinner. It works…” I trailed off as my search came up with one biologist with a focus in the topic and three with sub-specialties. “Okay, we do have mycologists…. That’s a good sign.” Granted, it wasn’t very many, but if I went that route I would have someone to show me the ropes.

“Cultivation of spores on hot planets is particularly difficult.”

“We have caves,” I waved off. “Networks and networks of caves. The humidity is excellent in subsurface formations warmed by geothermal springs.”

“If humans do not take up the space.” Was Miys wheedling? That sounded like wheedling.

“Most humans despise humidity unless there is a corresponding amount of airflow,” I assured them. “Else will be fine, I just need to figure out what their preferred diet is these days….”

“Yes, Else.” The confirmation was sharper than I was used to, but I shook my head and continued on with the new challenge.

“AH!” I barked. “Says here that eighty percent of Else’s current configuration subsists on high protein vegetable matter and - capsaicin. Whoops! Sorry about that, Noah.” It did no good to even pretend I was blameless in our resident fledgling species’ love of the spice. Granted, I was maybe half of half of half of a percent responsible, but still. Culpability.

“Technically, bell peppers contain capsaicin, and I am quite all right with those.”

That made my brows furrow. “Noah, Else loves capsaicin, the higher the concentration the better. Bell peppers aren’t going to cut it.”

“I understand that the podlings prefer much spicier fare,” Noah conceded. “But it does cause me burns.”

Suddenly, their interest in my future vocation seemed a lot less like concern for Else. Very, very carefully, I ventured my next comment. “We have the areas of the Ark dedicated to cultivation of foods that may harm you designated as a biohazard.”

“This is correct.”

“And the bell peppers are not in there,” I pointed out. “They are in the same BioLabs as the lettuces so that they go into the same biowaste containers. Because we know you like them.”

“This is also correct.”

“Is someone growing spicy spice in those labs without our knowledge? In labs other than One and Five?”

“This is not accurate. No, Wisdom, they are not.”

I nodded slowly. “So you are suggesting that we cultivate the produce from BioLabs three, four, seven, and ten in locations on Von as far from the produce from Biolabs One and Five as possible?”

“That would be preferred.”

“And Biolab Six is safe to put near the spicier group?” Six was dedicated to simulated genetic sequencing on Terran livestock that was considered either unkosher or haram.

“Yes, Wisdom.”

I nodded again. “But not Nine.” Nine was the same aquaponics lab that Eino assisted in, the one that smelled like hell and cow farts.

“Certainly not Nine. Data indicates that the crops in Nine would work far better embedded in the crops from Four and Seven, specifically.”

“Hmm.” I raised my brows and stood to get another drink. Four and Seven held crops that were especially prone to rot and required a significant degree of climate control. Which made them a very odd choice to suggest they be grown near the aquaponic crops. Something was going on, that much I knew. I couldn’t tell if it was help or sabotage. “Well then. A toast. To computer malfunctions, mycology, and… knowing what crops don’t mix well.”

“Indeed.”

I needed someone a bit more familiar with this, for sure. And I knew just where to start.

<<Prev Masterlist Next>>

#the miys #scifi #original scifi #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #post post apocalypse

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked.

The bastard.

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose.

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again.

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.”

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered.

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief.

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief.

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “ But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned.

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?”

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

“He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?”

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...”

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes.

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve.

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious.

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough.

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe.

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about.

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive.

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at.

“Oh my fuck...” I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen.

It was a drawing of me.

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs.

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple .

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry.

I was just ridiculously turned on.

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me.

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face.

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out.

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me.

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive.

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him.

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork .

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised.

Surprised but not particularly bothered.

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic.

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot.

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped.

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin.

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned.

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually.

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream.

“Areum, I-”

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled.

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise.

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file.

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her.

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.”

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second.

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away.

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him.

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out.

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth.

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him.

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped.

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly.

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually.

I laughed in disbelief.

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually.

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped.

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain.

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out.

“And I get to use my toy box.”

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously.

“You know the one...Big mahogany box underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags.

I shuddered.

Nope.

This wasn’t working.

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.”

The audacity of this bitch.

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out, but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free.

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy and cute.

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed .

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?”

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me.

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt.

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .

I fought the urge to laugh .

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....”

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.”

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed .

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled.

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck.

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my favorite distraction.”

I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun.

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face.

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy....

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply.

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out.

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?”

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down.

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock , pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly.

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center.

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke.

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me.

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me.

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter.

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works.

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #bts au #bts enemies to lovers #jungkook fics #jungkook reactions #bts smut #bts fics

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radnewspaperroom · 2 years ago

Text

The Pact

Sahmin dodged bodies in the hallway as she tried to find her next class. Seductive Speechcraft is what it was called on her online schedule, located in room 204 on the first floor. She only had a few minutes left before the bell. She spotted a familiar white head going into a classroom, she glanced above the door and sighed in relief, 204. She bolted for it and entered just as the bell rang.

“Cutting it close, aren’t you hon?” Asmodeus teased from his seat in the second row. Rather than having individual desks like in most human world classes, there were 2 students seated at a long desk that was slightly tipped up on one side so they could read their books more easily without having to crane their necks or hold them up. Quill shaped pens were placed in inkwells that, as Sahmin understood it, would never empty out.

The boy who had entered before he turned to glance over his shoulder as he slipped into an empty desk, it was Mammon, and he rolled his eyes when he realized it was Sahmin that Asmodeus was talking to.

“This is seductive speechcraft, right?” Sahmin asked as she marched to the desk that Mammon was slipping into and settled herself beside him on the bench. He scowled at her in annoyance as she smiled at Asmodeus.

“Mmhmm! You getting along, okay?” Asmodeus leaned against his desk and gave her a pitying look, “People giving you trouble?”

“Not as much as I expected.” She answered as she adjusted herself on the seat. “Only two demons have threatened to eat me before classes this morning, and one threatened to rip me limb from limb during break because he bumped into me.” She glanced around the class as more people filed in and filled the seats. “Pretty sure he did it on purpose just to start a fight.” A tall, limber instructor with long black hair and elegant looking makeup approached the front of the class and enchanted the chalk to start writing on the board.

“And you’ve managed to not get yourself gobbled up,” Mammon chuckled, “Maybe you’re not half–”

“As dumb as you look?” Sahmin cut him off and smiled brightly at him when he turned to glare at her. Asmodeus cackled from his seat and drew his brother's ire.

“Shut it Asmo!” He barked and leaned back so he could see the Avatar of Lust. “You.” he pointed a finger in Sahmin’s face, “Remember what I said, don’t cause me trouble.” She leaned a little closer and let her shoulders drop a little, she tried to make her face look apologetic and sad. When Mammon blinked and started to pull his finger back, she reached over and bit the tip of his finger. “OW! What’s the big idea?!”

“Point it at me again and I’ll bite it off.” Sahmin told him. “I’m not something in the distance and your bullshit tough guy act isn’t gonna work on me. You will NOT intimidate me anymore Mammon. Mark my words.” She snapped and then ignored him when he tried to scold her–as the instructor had begun speaking, welcoming everyone to the new school year. She caught Asmo covering his open hanging mouth and glanced at him with a smile.

Asmo gave her a look that read he was impressed at her standing up to Mammon and turned so he was facing the front of the class. The instructor tapped their long nails on the board until everyone fell silent. Their dark umber skin shone under the lighting and their dark eyes scanned the room.

“My name,” Although they were speaking loudly, they weren’t shouting. “Is Aesma. You shall call me Professor Aesma. My pronouns are they and them.” They clapped their hands and books appeared on the desks. “Rather than allow you all to take the materials home, the physical books will be enchanted to stay here. You may access the digital version from phone, computer or tablet.” They smiled and opened their own book to a page, “Seductive speechcraft might seem like an impossible feat for those of you who are more on the shy side, but by the time I’m through with you–you’ll be seducing with the best of them.”

“And you guys actually use these tactics on humans?” Sahmin tried to ask Mammon, who was idly playing with his own personal pen, with his mouth.

He leaned against the desk and an openly flirtatious smile spread slowly. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice low, almost a purr.

“You know,” she looked away and prayed she wasn’t so embarrassed her cheeks would redden. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know.” She murmured.

“Today we will just be going over the syllabus, I will show you a successful seduction, and we will fill out a questionnaire that will ask you to try and judge for yourself, your weak points. It won’t be too extensive, so I don’t want to hear any groaning.” They warned as they pointed a painted nail at the class. More than a few students were grumbling under their breath. “If we know what we are terrible at to start with, we can smooth it out more quickly and move on.”

They shook their head, “I don’t like having to fail people, do not mistake that as a weakness. Even the biggest simpleton of a demon should be able to seduce a human with their words alone.” The sad look hardened as they took a stack of papers from their desk and started handing them out to a student in each of the first rows. “What would it say about my teaching ability if I couldn’t even teach you how to be successful? Pass these back and we’ll get started.”

Sahmin looked down at the questionnaire after she passed the rest of the papers back to the demon girl sitting behind her. There were only ten questions, and they were fairly simple. While listening to the professor, she idly started answering them.

Do you find yourself easily embarrassed?

Not particularly. Have I been embarrassed? Yes. Is it often? No.

Do you have a hard time talking to new people?

Not really no, I like meeting new people.

Do you find romantic moments on television ‘cringe’ or ‘annoying’?

It really depends. Sometimes I find it's the writing of dialog I find corny or cringe, rather than the act of romance itself. If you have a tough punk reciting flowery poetry and he sounds and looks like he’d be murdering you, it’s not exactly believable that he’s professing his love.

Have you ever successfully seduced someone (human, demon, angel?)

I couldn’t really say. I’ve never attempted too, consciously before. I’ve had lovers and one-night stands, but I’ve never consciously decided ‘I want to seduce them’. If it happened, it happened.

If you have, please give a short-written example of how you accomplished it.

N/A

What would you consider your greatest weakness in social interactions?

My temper. When someone insults me, I tend to run my mouth and escalate the situation.

Are you a virgin?

No.

What part of Seductive Speechcraft interests you?

As a human, the entire class seems interesting. I never knew this was something demons had to work at. I assumed it came naturally.

Not a question, sign your name here to show you are aware that you will be required to successfully seduce a fellow student during exams.

Sahmin Otori

What’s one thing you want to accomplish by the end of this class?

I want to be able to hold my own against someone attempting to seduce me. To recognize an attempt and turn it around in my own favor.

She looked over to Mammon’s paper and he had barely filled anything in, although she could see he’d written down ‘The Great Mammon’ more than once across the page. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore him for the remainder of class. She found she was half surprised that Asmodeus wasn’t teaching the class, given he was the Avatar of Lust, but as she thought about it–it made sense. It probably came innately to him, he never had to think about how he did it–and he probably had magic that would differ greatly from the average demon–or another avatar like Mammon.

She glanced at Asmodeus as he neglected to pay attention to Aesma at the front of the class. He was on his D.D.D. instead, scrolling Devilgram and hitting like on the selfies that came up. He probably wouldn’t make the best teacher besides; he seems very wrapped up in his own little world. Sahmin shook her head and tried to pay attention to the rest of class. She couldn’t afford to fail and let down Diavolo or Lucifer–she was too afraid of the consequences.

///

Sahmin sighed as she tossed and turned in bed, she couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard she tried, and she blamed it on being so early. After classes, she came straight back to House of Lamentation and unloaded her new daily burden of books and notebooks onto her table. Satan had been kind and thoughtful enough to get her a bag from the school store, as she didn’t have any money yet. Asmodeus had told her to call him Asmo for short and told Satan, her and Beel that he was on dinner duty for the night–but seeing as he had an important party to go to–they were on their own as Mammon had a modeling job and Lucifer was taking dinner with Diavolo that night.

Beel had gone out to a restaurant to eat by himself because he claimed there wasn’t enough food in the house for him alone, let alone the three of them. Once he was gone, Satan decided to order in so he could finish reading the book he had started earlier. He had ordered enough food for him and Sahmin both. ‘If I don’t feed you,’ he had said as he ordered online from his D.D.D., ‘Lucifer will get mad and then all of us will get into trouble. Besides, you probably haven’t learned what is and isn’t safe for human consumption down here yet.’

The food had been good, if a little different from human food. She couldn’t name a single ingredient and it was on the spicy side, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Since the house was basically empty, she had decided to get an early start on tomorrow by getting to bed early. But she was striking out in her battle for sleep. She eventually rolled over and picked up her phone from the floor where it was charging.

Sahmin: Hey, Levi. I talked to Lucifer today and he mentioned something about Mammon’s weakness being FROZEN.

Levi: Frozen? Are you absolutely sure that’s what he said?

Sahmin: 110%

Levi: Come to the kitchen. Right now.

Levi: Don’t tell anyone what you’re doing. I don’t want anyone to mistakenly think that I hang out with some human normie.

Sahmin’s sigh turned into an irritated groan, there was that dismissive context again. Human. Like one would speak about the plague, or cancer. She rolled off her bed and tiptoed to her door. Lucifer’s study was located in a secret room beside the library, which was located across the hall from Sahmin’s room. She wondered if demons had spells to look through walls and decided she didn’t want to think about it.

She stepped into the kitchen and jumped when she heard something rattling in the large walk-in fridge, she peeked through the open door to see Beelzebub’s back as he rummaged through half empty bottles and empty boxes. He belched and began munching on something he found in a box. Sahmin decided to step away from the door, she didn’t want to be mistaken as a late-night snack.

“Ah,” Beelzebub’s deep voice said from inside the cooler, “Perfect timing.” He popped out around the door and startled Sahmin once again. “Listen, do you have any food on you? Because there’s not nearly enough in the fridge.”

“Didn’t you go out to eat?” Sahmin asked, tilting her head to the side and glancing inside the fridge the size of a walk-in closet. “Are you still that hungry?”

“I did, but I got hungry on my way back. I tried to resist but…” He put his hand to his stomach as it growled like a mythical beast. “I’m hungry.” He blinked at her and his stoic face showed no change. “Anyway, what’re you doing in the kitchen so late?”

Sahmin started to tell the truth, that she was meeting Leviathan, out of habit of being honest when asked simple questions. But she didn’t want to anger the only demon on her side at the moment. “I was a little hungry myself.” she lied with a sheepish smile.

“Ah,” Beelzebub smiled, and Sahmin felt her heart do a little flip. He had such a sweet smile. “You’re hungry? That makes two of us then. In that case, I understand. When you start feeling hungry in the middle of the night, it’s not like you can just wait until morning to eat. You know?”

Sahmin found herself nodding. “I don’t have any food on me,” a thought struck her, and she pointed to the wall that connected to her room. “But on my table in my room there’s this snack cake thing. A girl at school gave it to me, but I wasn’t sure if it was safe to eat it or not. I was gonna ask Satan and I forgot. You can have it if you want. I’d say you’re probably a lot hungrier than I am.”

“Really?” Beelzebub blinked as he shoved his hands in his pockets. It was then she noticed he wasn’t in his school uniform. He was wearing jeans, belts, sneakers, a jacket and a shirt. Aside from his jeans, he had orange almost the same color as his hair on each piece of clothing. His jacket had sections of sleeve that was different from the dark blue that made up most of the jacket. One sleeve was orange, the other was white. There was brownish fur around the neckline. His shirt had triangles that matched the designs on his belts and the necklace that was wrapped around his neck by a leather strap several times. “You’d give me food?”

“Yeah?” Sahmin smiled, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re not gonna tell on me for eating everything that was left in the fridge, are you?” Beelzebub gave her a wary look, his violet eyes narrowing hatefully.

“Why in the world would I tell on you?” She shook her head, “It’s your house, can’t you eat when you get hungry?”

“Not all the time.” Beelzebub explained with a sigh. “I have a limit on how much food I’m allowed to eat in a day. Lucifer says the expenses get to be too much if he doesn’t make me behave.”

Sahmin remembered her first few minutes of the Devildom. Beelzebub’s stomach had rumbled like thunder and all he had said was ‘Lucifer, I’m hungry.’ before he was made to introduce himself. “Aw, I’m sorry. No one should have to go hungry.” She gave him a friendly smile. “I promise, I’m not here to tattle. And you really can have that snack cake, I’m almost certain now that it’s not something a human can have and even if it was,” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’d rather you have it anyway, you’re a lot hungrier than me. I even forgot about it.”

Beelzebub seemed pleased with this and rocked back on his heels as he closed the fridge door. He caught the look Sahmin was giving him and as he secured the door he asked, “What? Is there something you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, uh, I guess…sorta?” She chuckled nervously. “It’s just...I’ve been told that there are seven of you brothers. I’ve met Lucifer, Mammon, Levi,” she started counting the names on her fingers, “Satan, Asmo, you…” She paused and looked up at him with a smile. “Who's the seventh brother? I haven’t met him yet.”

Beelzebub’s look turned dark, and he stepped closer to her, looming over. “Now listen, don’t you EVER mention him in front of Lucifer.” He warned, his voice a deep growl. “Just so we’re clear,” he leaned back and pulled his hands from his pockets and clenched his fists. “I’m not going to tell you anything either. Lucifer would yell at me if I did.”

His look turned less angry and sadder “And don’t bother asking my brothers either…No one talks about HIM.” He sighed and gripped his left wrist with his right hand. “Even though he’s our brother…we have to treat him like he doesn’t exist…It’s not right…” he looked away from Sahmin, “But since no one can defy Lucifer…” He shook his head, the anger gone from him now. “You know what? This isn’t any of your business, human.”

Sahmin noticed that there wasn’t any disdain with the way Beelzebub said human, unlike Mammon, Levi and Lucifer. “Oh,” she wrapped her arms around herself and took a step back, putting her back to the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to reopen a wound. Please don’t think I was trying to be cruel; I honestly didn’t know.

“Whatever.” Beelzebub lifted one shoulder and then put a hand to his neck to massage it. “I’m leaving. I’ve already eaten everything in the refrigerator now anyway.” he had a thought and smiled, “I’m pretty sure Lucifer is hiding a poisoned apple in the desk in the study…” Without a word of goodbye, Beelzebub swept past Sahmin and down the hall to the study.

“Psst…hey!” a voice called.

“Is that you, God?” Sahmin joked, watching as Levi poked his head around the corner.

“Seriously?! No, over here, look!”

“Why are you hiding?” She asked as he came into the kitchen fully. He was dressed in stretchy black pants, a shirt with white, black and blue in the design and a black and white jacket over it. He had little smiley faces pinned to the jacket in red, yellow and green that showed how happy the faces were depending on color. Green was happy, yellow was neutral and red was angry. He had yellow studio headphones around his neck and his hands in his pockets as he approached, a wary look in his eyes.

“What do you think? Beel was just in here! I can’t have him finding me with you, now can I?!” He approached and double checked that no one was around, “You didn't tell him anything did you?"

Sahmin hissed and pretended to be apologetic, "ooohhh..." but before she could say a word, Levi started to rant. "Relax!" Sahmin laughed and waved when he stared at her. "I'm just fucking with you. I didn't say anything to him. Your anti-human, anti-normie rep is safe and secure." She rolled her eyes and watched as he heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

"So, it’s actually true, right? Lucifer definitely used the word ‘frozen’?”

“Absolutely sure.” Sahmin assured him.

“In that case,” he opened the refrigerator door and stepped inside. “It could only be hidden in here.” He opened a somewhat large box inside the fridge to reveal a freezer.

“In the freezer?”

“Hmm…” Levi turned on his flashlight on his D.D.D. and began searching the ice laden box. “All I see is a bunch of ice inside…Oh wait, look! It’s the ice cream Satan hid from Beel a century ago. I totally forgot about that,” he laughed as he continued his search.

“Oh, we should tell him then, he was hungry and was looking for food.” Sahmin told him as she peeked over his shoulder to see inside.

“No way, that’d spoil the joke. He’ll probably figure it out in another 2000 years or so, I’d say.” Levi chuckled again and swept his light over some of the ice.

“Wait, what's that?” she asked and gestured toward a patch of ice in the back of the freezer. “There,” She pointed again as Levi shone his light, “behind that patch of ice!”

“I don’t believe it! It was behind the ice and it’s frozen solid, Lucifer wasn’t lying!” Levi pulled at the chunk of ice until it came loose. “Ugh, it’s super heavy, and big!” He looked over his shoulder, “Get the door! I’m gonna put it in the microwave to thaw it!”

“Is that safe?” Sahmin asked as she watched Levi hobble to the large microwave and put it inside.

“Eh, it's so frozen it shouldn’t bother it. Two minutes on auto should be about right.” He slammed the door shut and punched in the appropriate time. “Let the defrosting begin!” He pushed the start button and watched as the microwave hummed to life and began thawing out the ice.

“Hope it don’t ruin ya’lls microwave.” Sahmin mused aloud, “With the ice just melting and everything.”

“What’s with all the racket you two!” Mammon’s voice barked, startling Levi and Sahmin both into jumping and trying to block the view of the microwave with their bodies. “HEY!” Mammon pointed to the microwave, “Wait a minute, is that…” he pushed Sahmin and Levi out of the way, but Levi put his hands on the door of it to keep it closed. “That looks like Goldie, my credit card!”

“Goldie?” Sahmin repeated, a wave of cringe going through her. Levi had been right.

“My baby! The one thing more important to me than life itself!” Mammon gushed as he tried to open the door, but Levi wasn’t budging. “Get it outta there before the microwave demagnetizes it and makes it useless!” Mammon barked. Levi knocked Mammon out of the way and opened it just enough to snag the wet card from the pile of unthawed ice. He jumped away as Mammon tried to grab the card as his hand come out of the microwave.

“Levi, you idiot!” Mammon barked and pointed at his brother, “How could you do something so stupid?! You’re as dumb as a stump, ya know that?!”

“Hmmm,” Levi smirked and waved the card high above his head, just out of Mammon’s reach. Sahmin grabbed Mammon’s brown and white leather jacket to keep him grounded as he attempted to jump for the card. “Are you SURE you should be talking like that to me Mammon? After all, I’m the one who found the credit card Lucifer took from you.”

“You did?” Sahmin snarked as she pulled Mammon back, he stopped struggling for a moment and listened to Levi as he ignored Sahmin and kept talking.

“So, do you want me to give you your credit card back?” Levi taunted.

“YOU’D BETTER!” Mammon snapped, but when Levi’s look darkened, he changed his tune. “Um, I mean, yes, please! Please give it back…Leviathan, sir!” Mammon dropped to his knees and put his hands together like he was praying to Levi.

“Oh wow,” Levi looked disgusted. “This is embarrassing! I can’t believe that's all it took for you to abandon your pride! You’re even down on your knees! You’re one of the seven rulers of the Devildom! Mammon, shouldn’t you be ashamed of yourself?” Levi shrugged, “Oh well, whatever. Okay then, if you want your card back, then you have to give me that Seraphina figurine you won at the convenience store!”

“The Sera what now?” Mammon looked up, clearly confused. “What’re you talkin’ about? I don’t remember winnin’ anything?”

“I don’t believe this!” Levi thundered angrily, “You forgot that you even have her, how could you?!”

“Not the time, Leviathan!” Sahmin barked and crossed her arms. “More important things at hand right now!”

“Ugh, c’mon, enough! Whatever you want! I’ll give it to ya! Just give me back my credit card!” Mammon pleaded from his knees.

“Right!” Levi nodded and pointed to Sahmin with his free hand. “These are the conditions. I get the Seraphina figurine and you make a pact with this human!”

“Right, a pact, fine. I’m more than happy to make a pact with you…” Mammon glanced over his shoulder at Sahmin who smiled down at him. She was glad he was so willing to– “wait, WHAT?! Why d’ya want ME to make a PACT?!” He yelled at Levi and got to his feet in a flash.

“Think about it,” Levi told him with a grin. “If you make a pact with Sahmin, you’ll have to do whatever you’re told right? Which means I get my money back that you owe me, cause Sahmin’ll order you to give it back and you can’t refuse a command from a pact master! Game over, I win!” Levi cheered for himself and struck a victory pose as Mammon growled.

“Pff, I don’t believe this. It’s just money Levi! I can’t believe you’d go through all this trouble!” Mammon snapped.

“Excuse me?” Levi raised a brow and shook his head, “remind me again which of us tossed aside what little pride he had left, all to get his hands on a CREDIT CARD?”

“Hey! You shut up!” He whirled on Sahmin and glared at her, “And you, human! What’re ya thinking, lettin’ Levi use you like this? Are you stupid? Go on, say somethin’!”

“He’s not using me,” Sahmin countered and put her hands on her hips. “I get something out of his temporary partnership too. You’ll make a pact with me to get the card back, and I can make sure you can’t ditch me if some demon decides to make me into a meal, like you tried to do with Levi!” She grinned and leaned closer to him. “So, c’mon Mammon, make a pact with me.”

“UH-UH!” Mammon started shaking his head violently, “NO WAY! NOT INTERESTED!” He made an X with his arms, “I am the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, one of the seven rulers of the Devildom! Fool…do you actually think I’d let some human be the boss of me?”

“You will if you want your precious Goldie back.” Sahmin threatened, bearing down on Mammon as she got closer.

“Or what!?” Mammon challenged.

“LUCIFEEEER!” Sahmin and Levi yelled in unison, “MAMMON’S UNFREEZING HIS CREDIT CAAAAARD!”

“D’ah!” Mammon covered Sahmin’s mouth with his hands and kicked Levi in the gut with his foot to shut them up. “Shut up! Alright! I’ll make a pact with you human, I’d be thrilled to.” Although the words sounded genuine, she could see the underlying anger and resentment in his face as he spoke. “I, Mammon, Avatar of Greed, pledge myself to you…human.” Sahmin felt a burning sensation on her chest and she pulled away from him, sure that he had attempted to burn her for blackmailing him.

She pulled her shirt down a little to reveal a tattoo-like mark made in yellow on her skin, written in runes she couldn’t read. “What the hell?” She looked up to Mammon who shrugged.

“It’s our pact mark. Everyone who gets in a pact with a demon gets a mark somewhere on their body to represent the bond.” He turned and snatched the credit card from Levi’s hands before attempting to run off.

“Not so fast Mammon! Get back here and pay Levi what you owe him!” Sahmin barked as she touched the mark on her chest. It was tender and it lit up as Mammon made struggling noises.

“Noo!” Mammon protested as his body moved on its own. He opened his D.D.D. and transferred money to Leviathan’s account. “My…body….it’s movin’ on its own!” He struggled but until the transaction was complete, Mammon couldn’t move. Once Levithan had accepted the money on his own D.D.D. he jumped and ran from the room, yelling about ordering that blu-ray set. Mammon sniffled and got to his feet, rushing for the door. The pact mark stopped glowing and Sahmin felt the warm sensation fade with the light.

“Just so you know, if I can’t hear you, you can't make me do shit!” Mammon warned as he bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Sahmin found a towel and cleaned up the microwave before leaving the kitchen. She didn’t want Satan or Lucifer to get mad that they had made a mess. She paused in the hall at a mirror around her height and checked the mark to see what it looked like in her reflection. Her pale skin made it sort of difficult to see the yellow mark, so she was sort of grateful for it, but she knew during the summer months when she tanned it would be far more visible.

Now to come up with an excuse for it when she went back to the human world.

#obey me!#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #obey me fanfic #Obey Me: Sahmin Edition

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yurimother · 5 years ago

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Interview: Shilin Huang, Creator of Amongst Us and Carciphona

Shilin Huang ( @okolnir )is a Canadian freelance artist and comic creator, known for her long-running series Carciphona. She has a Bachelor of Music in Performance from the University of Western Ontario. Carciphona is a long-form fantasy story set in a world where demon-magic is forbidden. The series follows a young sorceress named Veloce, and the mythical assassin assigned to kill her, Blackbird.

Shilin’s newest book, Amongst Us, based on the webcomic of the same name, is an alternate universe comic that reimagines Veloce and Blackbird as musicians and girlfriends in the modern world. You can support the physical release for Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today.

The first book of Amongst Us is coming soon. How do you feel about the release?

Eager and relieved!! I had worked for so long to make the web format viable for print format, as well doing all the extra drawings that were necessary--like covers--that I had to keep under wraps, it felt great to know that that part is finally done and I can release my child into the wild. I was very worried too before the launch of the Kickstarter, because though I am the one who made this story, I am not quite a slice-of-life type of person myself, and it was hard for me to see value in this mundane, not-plot-driven kind of story as a printed book. But I was very lucky to have that worry dispelled!

What drew you towards creating comics and artwork? Was it a dream of yours?

I’ve been drawing since before elementary school because I enjoyed it, and somewhere along the way, I wanted to create my own characters, and then I wanted stories for them. It was always just me doing what I felt like doing, more so than something that I aspired towards achieving consciously. If I had to analyze the allure myself, maybe it was because people and the world are so interesting, I’ve always loved thinking about their nature and circumstances, and art/storytelling was the best way for me to explore and share those thoughts.

Could you briefly walk us through your creative process for making a page of Carciphona or an episode of Amongst Us?

Carciphona is a long, plot-driven story, and so the scale of preparation required before the page eclipses the actual drawing of the page itself. [A] small moment has some larger impact in the plot, character development, and accuracy of world-building. So I usually spend about half a year or more writing out an entire volume, read it over many times over the course of the years, before I do the same thing with sketching the entire volume on the computer, rearranging pages and panels and entire scenes for best delivery, before I finally commit to drawing out each page in detail on the computer.

Where Carciphona is like an elaborate set course where I chop up and measure ingredients and time their cooking with a careful game plan so everything can be served as they should, Amongst Us is more like an omelette that I’m making to taste. There is still planning and writing ahead of time, but each episode is much more self-contained, and I do more of the planning of the episode within the episode itself, adding and taking away details as I see fit before I feel like it reads naturally enough for me to fine line, colour, and paint.

You talk about being a self-taught artist, how did you learn to create artwork? What are some of your favorite educational resources?

While I did come across many tutorials, they were mostly short ones here and there made by my peers, so I don’t have any favourites in my mind that I can share ): . I learned by just looking at the art of my peers at the time and drawing a lot myself, thinking about what I could learn from each time I see something great, and what I could try next time to make the next drawing look better to me. When I had just started drawing digitally, the internet was quite new, drawing tablets expensive and uncommon, with no social media to share art or find resources. Over time, I did try to learn more properly by doing studies and seeking out professional tutorials, but I found that I hated it and decided that I’d rather learn and make mistakes at my own pace and be happy than to commit to effective and efficient learning and make myself dislike drawing.

Amongst Us is, of course, an Alternate Universe comic featuring characters from Carciphona. What inspired you to put your characters into a GL slice of life work?

Back in 2006, when I started drawing Carciphona, I had no plans of this frenemies dynamic for the two main characters, Blackbird and Veloce, and when the thought had occurred to me as I continue to tweak the story, canon GL relationships were still rare and rarely accepted. I was even told on many occasions by readers that they hope the two do not end up with some couples dynamic, or they will no longer be interested in the story. Ultimately, Carciphona was a fantasy story about an entire world, and I wasn’t going to risk the story’s reception over a small detail like whether or not Blackbird and Veloce sleep together, so I just played with the ideas of their relationship on the side, in paintings of many different AUs. Eventually, all that did was make me become so attached to the idea that I decided to say, screw it, I need someplace where they could be together, and I’m drawing an AU for real.

Where do you draw inspiration from for your work? Both Amongst Us and Carciphona.

I love a lot of things, feelings, aesthetics, and I eat up all of that and take it back out in the form of my stories. The inspiration is everywhere, from beautiful imagery I witness in pictures and in real life, to [the] lives of people that I hear about or experience firsthand, to the ethics and structures of professions from mechanics to medicine… In feelings, knowledge, and perspective, there’s an infinite amount of things that makes me think, and that thinking is what creates AU and Carciphona, whether or not that line of inspiration can be clearly drawn back to the root of the thought.

What are some of your biggest challenges or fears creating Amongst Us? Was there any realization or advice that helped you overcome those difficulties?

My biggest fear is always in relatability because it’s a difference between me and the reader that I do not and cannot have a solution for because it involves another person. In such a relatable genre as slice of life/comedy/romance, where the readers have more experience and therefore more varied but stronger expectations of a version of life that is relatable to them, I know that even if somehow I become a master writer, I still would not be able [to] say whether I could story that others would get or would be interested in, especially because I am aware I am an oddball when it comes to how I think, how I live, and what I value. What helped me the most was simply seeing that there were readers who did enjoy the stories for what it was, and reminding myself that I’m telling the stories to find those who might enjoy it, not to avoid those who might not. It’s a different perspective, rather than a solution, so the worry constantly resurfaces, but I hope it becomes easier over time as I am proven wrong more often!

Amongst Us readers have gotten to see Veloce and Blackbird as an established couple, and now we are witnessing flashbacks to how they first met. Where do you hope to take the series in the future?

I intend to tell both of these timelines concurrently, so as the couple timeline ended at episode 20, I intend to end the flashback at around episode 40, and then switch again at episode 60, and so on. While this kills the momentum for each arc, I made AU so that I can have the cake and eat it too--I want both their back story and a happy ending at the same time without having to wait 10-20 years for it, like I do with Carciphona’s plot haha!

What is one dream or aspiration you would like to accomplish? Even if it is unrealistic.

My only dream right now is just to finish both Carciphona and AU before my time’s up! Funny how unrealistic is specified, it made me realize that I rarely consider unrealistic dreams/aspirations as worth thinking about as they are unlikely to happen when there are so many other things I want to do that are actually possible. Most of my unrealistic dreams actually revolve around music, a profession I had left behind with an aching heart. I dream to play a concerto with an orchestra someday, or even learn to conduct, but for now, drawing my dreams out feels enjoyable and fulfilling enough a compromise!

What advice do you have for people wanting to create artwork and comics?

The true challenge these days I feel like is rarely in the work itself; there are so many readily available free resources that anyone who is capable of working hard and thinking critically will sooner or later be able to master skills they acquire to some degree. What is truly challenging is finding, and then accepting, what paths work for you. Someone might find great joy in working in a studio with a group on something big, while someone else might only enjoy drawing what they feel. Both, in this current climate, will be compelled to adhere to the standards of drawing what others want to see in order to gain recognition and financial stability, one will thrive, one will not.

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is understanding what you want out of drawing/creating, and why. Understanding yourself is often not as straight-forward as it may seem, everyone has different circumstances that subtly motivates them to sometimes misdirect energy and misinterpret what it is they truly want. Some people need to be understood, some people want an excuse to execute, and some people want fame, money, recognition, validation. Whatever it is, and all valid, understanding and accepting your own motivations to create can tremendously help you find the path forward that is suitable for you, not anyone else, even if it might mean following an impractical path that no one else recommends.

Finally, after the release of the first Amongst Us book, what is next for you? Anything special your fans can look forward to?

My game plan through the decades has always been to just keep going. I did choose long-form projects such as the comics that I draw, and the best thing I can do is to just keep it up and reach those exciting points of the story that I’ve always worked towards, no matter how uneventful that may make my work routine sound. However, I do have a little side thing with a(nother) recurring theme that I’ve been doing here and there for fun whenever I had time, people who keep up with my social media art posts may have noticed. If I ever accumulate enough material, maybe there will be some bonus snacks for my readers on the horizon!

Read Carciphona and Amongst Us online now and be sure to support the physical release on Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today. Also, be sure to follow Shilin on Twitter @Okolnir.

#yuri #news #essay #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #shilin #girls love #gl #wlw #essays #interview #art #artist #comics #indie #carciphona #amongst us

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snarkymonkeyprime · 4 years ago

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Oh hai; more of the sci fic weirdness that is eating my brain. No Dean here but maybe plot?

Given how little had resulted from the autopsy, Castiel went with the only lead he had; that of the former Councilwoman’s successor, Balthazar Severin. To his annoyance, the flamboyant civil servant was currently not in his offices nor at his home; he was instead traipsing about with donors and other hangers-on in an over-priced, gaudy ballroom in one of the grander buildings downtown.

He bit back an annoyed groan as he called out the address. The car’s communication screen flickered and announced pleasantly, “Please buckle up for safety,” before sliding into the fast-paced traffic of the early evening.

As he rode, Castiel pulled out his case tablet, flicking through the information he’d gathered. Rebecca Errol had been hounded by scandal in the last few terms of her Seat. Everything from purchased votes to greased palms over development deals. Little wonder why Severin had managed to be win by such a large gap. Not that Castiel saw much difference. The Council had long since been a localized but fully corrupt replacement of local governments. Only really shocking concept was that states continued to function at all.

A half hour later, he arrived at the ballroom. He left the car and it dinged as it sped away, searching for a parking space. Given it was Friday and relatively early, Castiel believed his car would simply end up circling until he called it back after his interview.

I hate the city, he admitted. He ignored the valet’s look of superiority and flashed his ID screen. The man’s face paled and he gestured rapidly.

At least some things still work. The wide entry to the ballroom was brightly lit and full. He didn’t stifle the look of disgust. All this opulence and for what? Ego stroking? The amount of money spilling from the crystal chandeliers and elaborate buffet tables would certainly be better served elsewhere. Not that he could voice such an opinion.

He asked about quietly, seeking the newest councilman. He found him rather by accident, talking with a tall brunet nearest the open bar.

Both men turned at the same time as Castiel stepped close.

“Councilman Severin? Might I have a word?”

Before the man could respond, the younger, taller one held out a hand. “I’m Sam, his attaché. You can make an appointment with his office in the morn-“

Castiel held up his ID screen. “It’ll take only a few minutes.”

Balthazar tapped Sam on the shoulder and inclined his head to the left when the man looked back. “I do so love it when he’s aggressive.” He grinned at Sam’s annoyed squint. “What, Agent Novak, might I do for you this fine evening?” He sipped his drink, pale eyes on Castiel’s.

Maybe I just hate people, Castiel grumbled. He pulled out his case tablet. “Last night, Rebecca Errol was murdered at her campaign headquarters.”

“So sad,” Balthazar muttered. He waved away Sam’s groan of protest.

“Might not be the best reaction,” Castiel pointed out, hiding his smile at Sam’s look of no shit he threw at Balthazar.

“You’d have a harder time finding someone who liked her over someone who didn’t,” Balthazar drawled. He shrugged. “In any event, I don’t know why you’re bothering me with this news.”

“Councilman Severin, you have to understand why I’d be asking.” Castiel fought back a yawn. He didn’t truly believe the man had anything to do with her death. Even the idea of hiring an outsider appeared laughable. Balthazar was many things but from what little Castiel knew of him, he was too lazy to engineer assassinations over something as small-time as a Council Seat.

“Please, call me Balthazar. You make me sound so old,” he wheedled.

“Fine. Balthazar. You’re an obvious suspect given your past in regards to Errol.”

Balthazar pulled a face. “Oh, yes; she and I were fond of our public tête-à-têtes, were we not?” He held his half-empty glass loose in be-ringed fingers. His gaze wandered the room, flickering about like a moth distracted by a wildfire. One could think him well beyond the intoxication of the socially-acceptable; but Castiel could see the pale blue eyes that roved were still sharp and clear.

Balthazar caught his look and smirked, before swallowing the last of his drink. “My condolences to my predecessor but you’ll no doubt find I have not been in her presence – or in fact, near her base of operations – in nearly a fortnight.” He didn’t lift his gaze from Castiel’s as he replaced his glass with a full one from a wandering waiter. He looked away then to peer at his drink, shifting it under the myriad lights of the ballroom. “In fact, I would believe she has been rather naughty these last few months.” He let the glass dangle from his fingers. “Perhaps those avenues are better traveled?”

Castiel ignored the question. “Have you ever actively hired Alters?”

Strangely, Balthazar glanced at Sam before answering. Any sly humor had tempered as he responded. “I don’t seek them out, no. I may have hired them in the past but not with any intent. Mods are rarely so useful to require purpose.” His flirty, drunken behavior vanished entirely. He stood straighter, glass forgotten in his hand.

The man was a chameleon. Castiel could see why he’d been able to win the election so handily, even with Errol throwing money at every corner. Balthazar appeared to be expert in behaving exactly as expected or desired, no matter the venue. But beneath that shifting exterior peeked a cunning awareness that Castiel found far more interesting.

“Why?” Balthazar asked, tone low.

“Her killer is thought to be one. He, uh, removed her mods.” She didn’t have many. One in her left ear for communicating with staff and cash card chips on the back of her right. He showed the crime scene, her right arm ending in a bloody stump and the left half of her head torn away, exposing bone and brain.

“Bloody hell,” Balthazar breathed, his face pale. That reaction alone was enough to convince Castiel that Balthazar had no hand in her death.

The other man took effort to tear his eyes from the photo. He cleared his throat and pushed Castiel’s tablet down and out of sight. “I may not have liked the woman but I never wished her dead.” He turned to Sam and leaned in, whispering low.

The other man frowned but nodded.

He turned back. “Why do you think an Alter is involved?”

Castiel flicked through his tablet, pulling up the same distorted image he’d shown the shop owner at Winchester Station earlier. “This. This was the last person seen around her compound before the morning when her body was found.”

Balthazar grimaced. “Unfortunate looking soul,” he muttered. He shook his head. “I am genuinely sorry she suffered like that, but I’m afraid I’ve nothing to offer.” He held out his empty hand. “Nor have I seen that man before.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Sam took the tablet from him, frowning at the image. “Do you think her mods had anything to do with it?”

“Not at present, no,” Castiel replied slowly. He retrieved the tablet. It was an avenue he was considering and found it interesting that a councilman’s attaché had clued in so quickly as well. Everything about the crime scene spoke of a serial killer with intent. This wasn’t an assassination. He’d taken his time with Errol. Careful and methodical. Though, his superiors were quick to indicate anything but. To them, the easiest and cleanest answer was a political argument turned bloody. Castiel feared it something more.

It resembled two other unsolved cases he had. In far too many ways. The grotesqueries. The destroyed mods. The time. He hadn’t exaggerated when speaking with the shop owner; he was certain this killer targeted Alters. And given Errol’s demise, apparently even ones with minor mods. Which meant more than half the population at this rate.

He eyed Sam, watching his reaction. “Do you have information?”

Sam blinked in surprise. “Er, no. Sorry. I just . . . her body getting damaged like that.” He drew his hand along his mouth and shuddered. He coughed and looked toward Balthazar who watched him carefully. “I’ll, uh, have flowers sent to her office in the morning, Councilman.”

Balthazar nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “So thoughtful, Samuel.”

Castiel turned off the case tablet and returned it to his coat pocket. “Chances are, it’s as you intimated; an enemy of hers. Possibly angry over her election loss.” He tugged on the collar of his coat. “I’d be more suspicious of you, Balthazar, if she’d died before votes were cast.”

Balthazar’s grin was cold. “Indeed.” He raised his eyebrows. “Well, if I’m no longer needed?”

Unwilling to consider the avenue closed, Castiel nodded. “For now.”

There was no missing the narrowing of pale eyes. “Do help yourself, Agent,” Balthazar purred, gesturing to the excess around them. “As a dutiful servant of the Council, you’re more than welcome.”

Castiel worked a hollow smile. “Thank you, but no. I’ve still plenty of work to do.” He touched two fingers to his temple in a false salute. “I’ll be sure to leave a message with your office when I’ve more to discuss.”

“Until then,” Balthazar murmured, raising his glass.

Castiel felt two pairs of eyes on his back until well out the ballroom’s false opulence. He glanced over his shoulder as he headed toward the street and noted both men were now huddled together, the taller one’s hands motioning quickly in agitation.

He frowned.

Something there. Something to pursue.

Outside, the cold musty air a boon compared to the stuffy confines off the ballroom, he tapped a code on his wrist. The medallion he wore there vibrated and quite quickly he heard the soft hum of his car as it approached.

He slid into the vehicle with a grunt and directed it to home. A fruitless day, in the end. He’d done little more than unearth new questions. He tapped a code into the console of his car, opening his private computer link.

“Yes?” The soft, male voice filled the cab of the car.

“Run a search on Winchester Station. I want to know who owns the building, who runs it, anything.”

“Yes, sir.” A click and the AI disconnected.

He rubbed his jaw, wondering why his instinct wouldn’t let him risk the public channels. Why only the ones provided by his old friend, Gabriel. Paranoid, maybe? Yet, some quiet part of him knew it a wrong turn to use the Department’s servers. Given their insistence on this being an assassination and Castiel knowing it spoke of worse, he figured he may as well give in. For now, at least.

He sighed and ground his knuckles into his eyes. “I’m turning into him, probably,” he muttered.

Thinking of Gabriel reminded him that he owed his friend a visit. Maybe Gabriel had heard something. Or knew who might have performed the killer’s mods.

Or knows who performed the shop owner’s. He sat back in his seat, eyes unfocused as street lights and head lights turned into streaks of brilliant white and gold. Something very strange there. Mods so well hidden were expensive. And if that were true, why would someone with that kind of financial access work in a backwater repair store like that?

He sighed and shut his eyes, settling in for the long drive home.

“What I wouldn’t give for an ordinary murder.”

#destiel #destiel!au #supernatural #supernatural!au #deancas #deancas!au #altered states #sci fi #i do wish more people were interested #i'm glad there a handful of folks who appear to care #such is life i suppose

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norabrice1701 · 4 years ago

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An Offer Received - Part I

A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic

Pairing:Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader

Summary: You were just doing your job. It wasn’t your fault you did it so well that your boss, Thomas Conrad, wanted to recruit you in his plan for world domination. And what Mr. Conrad wants, well…

Rating: Part I - an F-bomb or two (later parts heat up, but gotta start somewhere)

A/N: This is rather the hopeless result of watching "High-Rise", "Crimson Peak", the British Villain Jaguar commercial series, and "The Night Manager" over the last few weeks...so, here goes nothing! Planned to be 5 or 6 parts when all’s said and done.

GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search!

Part I - 5 Minutes

You dropped to your office chair with a sigh, plugging in your laptop. Today’s department head meeting had passed uneventfully for once. Robert Stark, Head of R&D, and Chris Rogers, Head of Operations, constantly jockeyed for more allocation of your production resources. It was challenging, you’d admit – finding the balance act between supply and demand while planning for the future. But you were the youngest Head of Production for the largest tech giant in the world, Lok Industries – better known by the LOKI brand splashed on phones, watches, tablets, computers – for a reason.

While youngest as your particular department head, you were hardly the youngest on the senior staff. And that was to say nothing of the CEO himself. The youngest man in corporate history at the helm – an engineer with the aptitude for business strategy and the political savvy to chart a meteoric rise to the top. In fact, Thomas J. Conrad’s nomination for CEO five years ago passed unanimously in record time.

You’d never met him, never even seen him around the office despite your department head position. Plenty of others had, though, with stories to tell and scars to prove it. You tried to stay above the office gossip – especially when it concerned your senior boss – but it was intriguing. For all the press release photos and official portraits you’d seen – Mr. Conrad looked pleasant enough. Intelligent, sky-blue eyes; well-coiffed, gold-brown hair that betrayed just a hint of natural curl; a dashing smile. But that’s all it was, according to the hearsay – just a well-crafted facade. No one should be fooled by those eyes that could cut men in half; by that clever mind operating with ruthless intent; or, by that sharp, cold tongue that knew no mercy.

It sounded like such a cliché. The handsome, suave boss who was secretly-not-so-secretly a heartless bastard. A vicious predator in a bespoke suit. Albeit, a gorgeous one.

That’s why you didn’t care for the gossip. It’d be far better to meet the man and form your own opinions – but you’d been sufficiently warned that you’d only be brought before Mr. Conrad when you royally fucked up. “Not if you royally fuck up,” Scarlett Romanov had helpfully clarified with a coy smile, “but when you royally fuck up.”

Well, four years in and it hadn’t happened yet. And today was no time to start.

Turning to your laptop, you tended to the business at hand – reviewing production data, answering emails, assigning resource allocation. All in a day’s work. At one point you glanced at the clock, realizing there was just an hour left in your day. Perfect.

Perhaps tonight, you’d break the stalemate with Sebastian Barnes, Head of IT, and text him. He was quite handsome in his own right, easy to converse with, and even easier to fall into bed with. Even morning coffee at his apartment had been pleasant. But work got in the way for both of you – between server upgrades and production outages, there always seemed to be some excuse recently.

The desk phone beeped twice, flashing red, followed by another set of two beeps. An internal caller. You glanced at the ID on the screen, brow furrowing as you hit the speaker button.“Afternoon, Mrs. Brunhilde.”

“Good afternoon.” The pleasant voice of Mrs. Willamina Brunhilde – a relic of the former CEO and still glorified secretary of the CEO’s office – suffused your name with warmth and professional detachment. “Mr. Conrad would like to see you. He has an opening for the next hour, and I’ve just reserved the time on your calendar. Are you in a position to come to his office in 5-10 minutes?”

You knew the question was largely a polite formality. When Mrs. Brunhilde called and Mr. Conrad wanted a meeting, there was no excuse to say no. Your heart rate accelerated as you swallowed. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

With a few more perfunctory pleasantries, the call ended. You exhaled deep, fighting to reign in the sudden nervous energy that pooled in your gut. This was no different than any other meeting you’d attended – you were smart, you were capable. You were the Head of Production, and you didn’t get this job for being a pretty face. Brushing your slacks, adjusting your blazer, and smoothing your bangs, you exited your office for the trek across the sprawling building.

Mr. Conrad’s office suite overlooking the city harbor matched much of the building aesthetic – sharp lines, glass and chrome, a study in clean whites and crisp greys with hints of the company’s bold green signature color. Mrs. Brunhilde greeted you with a smile, ushering you forward to the dark, partially cracked double-doors. You rapped on the wood, exhaling deep.

“Enter.” His velvety, British drawl had always been appealing.

You opened the door further, stepping inside. He glanced up from the slim folder in hand as he sat in the white, leather chair at his desk – the picture of perfection with straight posture, a black tie knotted tight at his throat, and the crisp white sleeves of his dress shirt on display.

He inclined his head ever so faintly, face devoid of a smile. “Thank you for coming.” Your name rolled off his tongue in the most pleasing way.

You tipped your head in return. “Of course. Thank you, sir, for taking the time.”

He reached to his laptop, pressing a button on the keyboard before looking back to the folder as audio started to play.

Your stomach sank to your feet as you recognized it.

Your voice carried clear. “Our control limits are holding – 23 defects per 1,000,000 units. Our department has set an improvement goal to drop that number from 23 to 5 in the next four years –.”

Robert’s voice interrupted. “Oh goody, but perhaps, more importantly, you can tell me when Lane 5 will be restored?”

“The investigation into Lane 5 is still ongoing,” you said, voice even, “the code has been scrubbed, and we’re looking at retooling options.”

“Retooling options?” Robert scoffed. “Need I remind you that it’s been 33 hours since you canned my primary production line? That’s 33 hours of lost time, to the tune of – oh, say a 9% drop of market share come holiday season if we don’t finish the dev on these new marine products.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “As opposed to a 21% loss in market share if we let our control limits slip and start producing a higher percentage of defective products? Consumers know the LOKI brand is reliable – the highest reliability of any of our competition – and reliability makes or breaks on the production floor. Sacrifice quality control limits and you might as well kiss your cushy retirement goodbye.”

“Then, scale back – temporarily – on Rogers’ orders. He’s meeting quota, check the box for market supply. And if it does get tight, well, a little more demand for less supply usually helps -”

“Robert,” you cut him off, voice tight, “this is my call. I’ve looked at the same numbers you have – with Lane 5 out of commission until we can bring it up to spec, it’s a hit to our bottom line. It’s my job to minimize that hit. While never desirable, we can weather a 9% loss without permanent damage to the brand. Even Mr. Conrad would agree to that. But, if you don’t like that answer – then, by all means, let’s do discuss with Mr. Conrad.”

The room fell dead quiet, broken only by the faint squeak of a shifting chair.

“Well,” Robert started softly, “I don’t know that we need to go there just yet. What’s your projection on the investigation conclusion?”

“Retooling should complete in the next 21 hours, then we’ll move through start-up.”

Conrad’s hand floated back to his keyboard, pressing a button to cut off the recording. You didn’t dare speak as silence fell. If he was displeased, you would know soon enough. And if he was pleased, well…no one ever said they were called to Mr. Conrad’s office because he was pleased.

Your heart raced as he drew out the moment, but you wouldn’t let him see you sweat. You wouldn’t let him unnerve you.

Cold, crystalline eyes darted up to yours, pinning you in place. “You have absolutely no authority to speak for me. Making baseless statements about my assumed inclinations is not part of your job. Your job does include resolving those inter-department squabbles without leveraging my involvement as a threat. Now, if you’re incapable of standing behind your own decisions, incapable of defending the trajectory that you have set for your department and this corporation by extension – then, tell me now and spare me further disappointment.”

You responded on instinct, hiding the sting of his words.“No, sir. I’ve watched the company’s production numbers for almost four years now. Every metric is higher across the board than when I assumed the position -”

“Yes, including budget. Your department’s costs have increased, not exactly commensurate with your outputs. Diminishing returns often plague the pursuit for perfection as one approaches the pinnacle.” He glanced down idly to the file in his hand. “Your department walks that razor’s edge now. It would be well within my interest, perhaps, to cap you there.”

“Sir, the quality of our production is unparalleled –.”

“But you wanted to bring the discussion to Mr. Conrad, did you not? Well, here you are.” He closed the folder, tossing it idly to his desk before rising. Despite the late hour, he looked as pressed and polished as if the day had just started. He crossed around to the front of his desk, bracing against it as he rested his hands inside his trouser pockets. “There’s only one solution in this case.”

You debated asking but thought against it. Asking would be redundant. He wouldn’t have brought you here without a purpose, without something to gain.

He gestured at the nearest leather armchair opposite his desk. “Do have a seat.”

You paused, hesitating in consideration of his words. Sitting as he indicated would place you in a physically submissive position to his tall, lithe figure. Not that you were short in your heels – standing just over 5’9” – but you weren’t exactly keen to meet your senior boss on unequal footing.

His gaze hardened, mouth pinching with irritation. “If you’re stalling for time, my patience is not inexhaustible. And when I make an offer, I expect it to be received.”

Steeling yourself, moistening your lips, you crossed around to sit as indicated. You squared your shoulders and held your head high, refusing to fully angle back to look up at him as he spoke.

“Mrs. Brunhilde’s time at LOKI has come to an end. As you know, she was installed to her post by my predecessor who tailored the position to suit his needs. Needs that no longer align with my own or the corporation. The position is now evolving to meet the ever-evolving environment in which it must function.”

You nearly whiplashed from the change in conversation. Hadn’t he just questioned your ability to successfully do your job…?

He continued to speak softly yet there was no mistaking the hard, commanding edge. “The new terms for the CEO Administrative Executor now require someone with a working knowledge of the business and its trajectory; a willingness to stand in defense of that trajectory while keeping a clear head for the larger vision,” he pitched slightly forward, voice dropping with the barest hint of a tease, “and, of course, leveraging the power of one’s boss with explicit authority.”

It sure sounded like a tease, but you couldn’t be sure. You were too busy reeling from the implications. “Forgive me, sir,” you looked up at him, “but…it sounds like you’re suggesting….” You didn’t finish. Couldn’t finish. The thought of being removed as Head of Production and reassigned as his personal secretary, office administrative whatever repulsed you. Had he already judged you incapable? Was this punishment for one fucking meeting?

“I’m more than just suggesting.” He reached behind him for a loose sheet of paper. “Take the rest of this week as transition, and start in earnest on Monday.”

“The rest of this week?” You couldn’t stop the outburst. “I couldn’t possibly – you’re giving me just three days to transition out as Head of Production, and into the role of your office executor? Who’s my replacement? I need time to prepare the turnover, oversee the transition – and, surely, I should be involved in determining my replacement.”

A wolfish smile ghosted his face. “Welcome to your first objective in your new role. In addition to learning the expectations of this office and implementing goals for your redefined position, of course.” He held out the paper in your direction and you stared at it, wishing it would burst into flames.

The official notice of transfer with authority granted by the one and only Thomas J. Conrad.

Well, you wouldn’t be texting Sebastian tonight, after all. Not when your workload just quadrupled. You reached out for the paper, gripping it tight as you sighed.

“You needn’t look so glum about it,” he scolded lightly. “Consider it a promotion. If you hadn’t caught my eye – or ear, more accurately – you wouldn’t be here now. At least, you’ll find I’m rather adept at managing my own schedule; my valet manages my personal affairs; and, the café staff is well aware of my expectations for coffee and tea service.”

You quirked a brow. “Isn’t coffee delivery standard to every assistant position?”

He leveled you with a stern look in return. “If you ever bring me a cup of steaming liquid, you’ll find your pay docked by 60%. You’re in this position to be eyes, ears, and perspective on this company. Someone adept at managing the razor’s edge and surviving.” He straightened from his desk, extending a hand. “Are we understood on your priorities?”

Another challenge. Another opportunity. And if it didn’t pan out…well, how many others could say they worked directly for Thomas J. Conrad on their resume?

You rose, taking his hand. “Understood, sir.”

His answering smile, predatory and self-satisfied, sent shivers down your spine.

Up Next: Part II - 5 Weeks

#tom hiddleston #villain #the art of villainy #hiddlesedit #good to be bad #world domination #loki #avengers reference #fanfic #an offer received #wannabe writer #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #not rpf

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simphibians · 4 years ago

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this is my submission for @dagdagsims beguiling the heirs bachelor challenge (?) this is admittedly WAY more than i’ve done for any sim i’ve made.. ever LMAO but once i got started i couldn’t stop so .... enjoy my sim babies, under the cut is a massive “interview” i made so @dagdagsims could get a better feel how they present themselves

Camping or Binge Watching Shows at Home?

Ashlyn: watching shows at home all the way,,, well it would depend on where and how we were camping, would it be camping or glamping? and the weather? If it was nice.. maybe, but if it was humid? gag no huge pass then

Fin: watching shows, I do not have time for all those bugs, ugh I’m getting the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it

Coffee Cup or Thermos?

Ash: Thermos I’m on the go far too much for that.

Fin: coffee cup, for me thermos just leave this... metallic taste? if I need to take my coffee I use a reusable cup rather than a thermos, because I’m not too worried about temp control, I only drink it iced

. Soup or Sandwich?

Ash: weather dependant

Fin: Yeah, very weather dependant, I will not eat a deli sandwich when it’s snowing out, now am I?

While walking: Music or Podcasts?

Ash: music all the way, I would get too distracted in podcasts.

Fin: podcasts, I think I would end up dancing rather than walking if I had music

At a movie: Candy or Popcorn?

Ash: Popcorn,,, oooo the possibilities are endless. Plus, who said you couldn’t add candy TO the popcorn ;)

Fin: ... Ash.. you.. astonish me sometimes.. also neither, I don’t care all that much for snacky foods, I’m a health junkie in its sorts

Tablet or Computer?

Ash: neither. my phone

Fin: depends on my workload, if I have loads to do I feel more productive on my computer as I’m almost,, locked? to a certain area, because my tablet I can go anywhere, so I find myself distracted

Toilet paper: over or under?

Both at the same time: under.

Working Alone or Working in a Team?

Ash: team for sure, it’s no fun doing things alone

Fin: I don’t connect to people in the same way Ashlyn does, but it would be impossible to run my nonprofit alone.

Okay! Just a last few more serious questions and we’ll send you on your way, how’s that sound?

Ash: Let’s do it

Fin: ha.. ha sure!

What drew you to meeting Atticus and Imogen?

Ash: oh! easy! my PR manager brought up the show to me and I was making fun of it but Fin here dared me to join! but now the more I read about Imogen the more I get this little pang of excitement, I love meeting new people and I make my living off of traveling and doing just that, so I’m just excited to travel, meet a beautiful woman, and whatever comes out of it, comes out of it. y’know?

Fin, crazy blushing mess: I.. well.. *clears throat* Ash showed me the flyer for the production and me being me thought nothing of it besides daring her to join, I forgot who I was talking to and my brain clicked as hers lit and I realized at that point she was going to give me puppy dog eyes until I followed with her. So here I am, not as cute as her story, I’m... a little nervous? I feel like this thing is out of my comfort zone, but first and foremost I would do almost anything for ash, and... I will not lie... Atticus... mmm.. let’s just leave it there if ya get me

What’s something you want to learn or wish you were better at?

Ash:.. hm... I wish I was better at slowing down and taking things in the moment, I’m always on the go, and while that brings me nice opportunities and I’m not ungrateful for the experiences I get to take part in but I find myself in situations where I’m not living in the moment or for myself but for others and sometimes I wish I could just... I don’t know disappear into the selvadorian jungles for a moment, go off-grid and recoup, okay now that I’m thinking maybe not the jungle, bugs, humidity, hmm nope. maybe I’m destined to be a cottage core lesbian? eh? *laughs*

Fin: I feel like wanting to learn or be better at things is just a normal human experience, like... what’s life if you’re not addressing things and adapting to the surrounding changes? so I just wish I had a more natural ability to adapt as changes are anxiety-inducing but I realize things change for a reason.. so perhaps I wish I was better at accepting change, and god an instrument I want to learn an instrument, we have a piano at our house that ash drug in from god knows where but I’m TERRIFIED to touch it!!! I’m inept to musical abilities, trust me, you don’t want to be around when I’m singing in the shower might lose the ability to process a decibel or two after that!

Alright, guys! Just one last question, what are some personality quirks you’d like the producer and show team know about yourself that hasn’t been touched on?

Ash: uh... To be honest, I can adapt to everything? I like an enjoyable challenge; I’m not shy, I’m an open person, but besides that, I feel confident in how I’ve expressed myself.

Fin: nope! I think we’re wonderful; we got it all, gay dads, trans, queer, deaf, oh vegetarian I am very vegetarian, meat .... animal meat, grosses me out I can’t, I used to as a kid but god I don’t miss it, yuck the blood, I despise it! But other than that, I too feel hopeful in my character representation, so... that’s it?

That’s it, guys! Thank you so much for your participation, I’m excited for you guys to meet the twins, it’ll be exciting to see how this blossoms, or fails? Who knows?!

#idk what to tag this #ts4 #dagdagsims #submission #??#dk bro

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rhaenyratargeryn · 4 years ago

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EXIT WOUNDS (CYBERPUNK 2077) Ch. 2

Pairing: Takemura Goro x (female) V Rating: Mature Summary: When his plans for revenge fail, V and Takemura are left right where they once started. A dying thief and a disgraced soldier, with as much in common as they lack and an improbable bond that holds them to one another. Notes: Post-Canon, Nomad ending. Spoilers for post-game! Read on AO3 Read Ch. 1

The first awareness was that of light. Warm and bright behind his lids. The second awareness was ache. Persistent, painful and sharpened to a razor’s edge at every small movement.

Takemura begrudgingly accepted consciousness, finding the will somewhere inside him to open his eyes and look towards where the offending ray of sunshine was being allowed in.

The tent flap was being held open, just a sliver, and a pair of soft brown eyes, large and doe like in the middle of a tan-skinned face stared at him with interest. She had full round cheeks, youthfulness in every aspect of her cherub like features. The child froze as their eyes met, but slowly she smiled, a dimple in each corner of her mouth.

It was the height of spring, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and their petals scattered over the still pond in the gardens of the estate. Small pink ships, sailing endlessly on the vast sea.

Takemura was twenty-nine, three years dedicated already as an elite Arasaka soldier and known for his discipline, his dutifulness and his loyalty. When he did not pace the nearby halls, or stand at attention near Saburo-sama’s side, he was allowed to sit kneeled on a small mat on the wooden floor. His hand would remain on one hip, poised over his katana and another over his gun, his eyes sharp and his cyberware readings keenly attuned to every person who may move within the family halls.

It should have been a point of great shame for him then, that the tiny stumble of socked feet did not catch his attention until he found before him a small girl, her cherub cheeks puffed with a smile. She held up a drawing, or rather, scribbles upon paper in varying shades of black and red and tanned peach, all forming together to make a familiar silhouette.

“Taka-san, I drew you!”

In his duty, Takemeru was not to engage with others. He was meant to be as the room, as furniture or a tool left out. A knife on a table. What he was not meant to do, was speak to Saburo-sama’s three year old daughter. She was Saburo-sama’s joy, his greatest treasure, a child he doted on and who went everywhere at her father’s side.

Takemura looked to him now, for guidance, he told himself, but the look he gave Saburo-sama was more aligned with pleading.

“My daughter has presented you with a gift, Takameru. Be polite.” his master said without another glance, turning his attention back to his tablet.

Hanako waited patiently, expectantly. Takemeru found it difficult to even bring the words forth, his tongue sluggish and thick from so long hardly speaking much at all.

“Thank you, Hanako-sama. It is… lovely.”

She beamed, her smile drawing wider until a tiny dimple dotted high on her cheek. With insistence, she held it out for him and with equal amounts of hesitation, Takemeru took his hand from his blade and slipped the paper from her hands.

A voice called out a name, the sound hazy and muted on Takemeru’s ears. The girl turned, answering the call without looking back, leaving only the sway of dropped tent flap to ever prove she was there at all.

Takemeru let his eyes drift back closed, trying to recall the lines, the colors of the drawing. He had kept it, folded and safe beneath his armored vest for several days… but where did it go? What had he done with it after? It had been eighteen years since the blossoms and yet the few months he had spent alone, masterless and exiled, felt so much longer.

The tent opened again and Takemura groaned when the light flashed into his pupils.

“Morning.” a voice spoke, the man who had sewn up his shoulder and his side coming to sit near the cot Takemura was still shackled too. The man, too his wisdom, kept a good distance between them still.

“Is the pain bad? We scrounged up some MaxDoc to help take the edge off if you’re needin’ some.”

Takemura did not reply.

“Also need to change your IV. Sometimes the old ways are the best ways when it comes to saline and good ole H2O…. unless you’re feeling up to drinking some water?”

Water. The very word drew Takemura’s attention to how dry his throat was, how paperlike his tongue felt against the roof of his mouth. Water. His body pleaded to his mind. Water.

Takemura nodded, short and curt.

“Great. Hold on— “

Takemura watched the man as he moved around the tent, doing a good job still of keeping out of arm's reach. As his eyes traced his movements, he noted a change to the room.

There was a second cot set up at his other side.

In the second cot, was V.

Takemura felt a snarl build up near his teeth, a look of disgust and outrage ready to mar his features… until his eyes caught up with his emotions.

V looked terrible. Worse than terrible. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, greyish and clammy. Her breaths were short and slow, as if her own lungs were too tired to make more of an effort. Some strange band was attached around her head, monitors fixed to her temples as a nearby computer beeped and monitored large spikes and numbers that made no sense to Takemura.

The doctor caught him staring as he returned with a cup of water. Takemura sat up as best he could manage, unsurprised when the doctor called in another to stand guard with a gun in their hand while he held the cup for Takemura to drink from. He was not to be unrestrained it would seem, though his prey lay but a scant few feet away.

“Another seizure. Hit her hard. Been out as long as you now, but… well. We’ll see what happens.”

Takemura frowned, “‘What happens’?”

He cursed himself for speaking, but the words were out before he could catch himself.

“If she wakes up. Every time it seems she has one it takes longer and longer… one day I figure she just won’t.”

V had succeeded in removing the relic, had rid herself of her demon and in doing so had thought to free herself from impending doom… and it had all been for nothing. Saburo was dead. Hanako was dead… and V was still going to die.

Takemura refused food when offered and drank only a little, the pain of his wounds a welcome distraction for the turmoil in his chest.

He never would have thought nomads would have such tech available to them, but in the large tent there was enough equipment and cases to fill a small clinic. This man is what Takemura could only imagine was their version of a ripperdoc, but he didn’t have to worry about the man trying to invoke his sympathies towards V for long. A young woman entered the tent and the ripperdoc gave her a respectful nod.

“She good, Tom?” the woman asked and Tom nodded, “Okay. Take a breather.”

She shrugged toward the tent entrance. Tom frowned, but he didn’t argue, getting up and exiting the tent and offering Takemura a quick view of the guards outside. They were still present. Not a good tactical advantage.

The woman set her fists on her hips, eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him with dark brown eyes. She has no visible cyberware to speak of, but it was common for Nomads to reject enhancement, at least in his limited experience.

Takemura, despite his feelings, spoke politely enough.

“I am Takemura Goro. If V has not already informed you.”

The woman looked a bit taken back by his easy words, but after a moment that surprise resumed an expression of suspicion.

“She did. Now you wanna tell me how you found us? And who else knows where we are?”

Takemura frowned, “It is considered extremely rude not to introduce oneself. Even to enemies.”

The woman’s face flushed red down to her neck and her teeth set against the inside of her cheek. She had a short-temper, but also a position of authority and respect given how the ripperdoc had so easily relented to her requests. She was a leader, but a potentially weak one, Takemura set that information aside for later.

“You attack my people and you wanna school me on manners, Corpo?”

“...You have someone I want.” Takemura stated, a simple reasoning for why the young Nomads he encountered were threatened.

“Too god damn bad. Now who else knows where we are?”

Takemura fell silent again, a sigh held back in his throat. V stirred slightly on the cot nearby, drawing both of their attention to the other woman as she flinched and jerked slightly in sleep. The monitors sped for only a moment and then slowed again, whatever neurological event passing quickly.

The Nomad woman’s expression had broken apart quickly from one of stubbornness and annoyance to worry… colored with affection and familial concern. She cared for V. She cared for V very strongly. That would complicate any attempts of persuasion or negotiation, but then again, Takemura had not considered those to be strong tactics to begin with.

The woman looked down at her boots and then, curtly spoke, “I’m Panam Palmer.”

“It is good to meet you, Palmer-san.” Takemeru said, but his words were filled with polite detachment that would make it quite evident even to Panam that they were simply a platitude.

“How did you find us?”

“Simple reconnaissance. I visited towns. Spoke to people. It was difficult for several weeks, but then…” Takemura paused.

“Then?”

“You and your people became lazy.”

Panam sucked in her cheek again, but controlled her emotions.

“Are there others coming?”

“No.”

“Wow… I mean, wow. Didn’t expect you to just offer that one up.”

“I have no reason to lie. My purpose is simple. You and your people are responsible for the death of one I held in utmost regard and respect. I am duty bound to end the life of the one who commanded it.”

Silence followed the end of his words, the steady beeping of the monitor filling the room. Suddenly then, Panam scoffed out a laugh and Takemura jerked his head up to glare at the young woman, forgetting himself.

“Jesus christ… you Corpo’s are really crazy, you know that? You’re ‘duty bound’? By who? You aren’t Arasaka. You aren’t anything. You come here and try to kill my sister because of some deluded belief you owe a buncha criminals and psychopaths? Who don’t want you?”

With each word her volume increased, the look of revulsion so prominent on her features that even if she had chosen not to mince her words, her distaste would have been clear. Negotiation it would seem, was not a viable option.

Takemura felt her words, but only in that they stoked a growing tension edging through his limbs and fueled a gnawing want to snap this crude woman’s neck. He let his anger stream out from his chest and into his hands, clenching them a bit tighter to try and relieve some of the pressure his growing anger exuded.

“This is what is gonna happen,” Panam began, her voice having grown colder, “We’re gonna dump you out on the sand with a quart of motor oil and a pistol and take bets on whether you shoot yourself before or after the thirst makes you crazy enough to drink it.”

The image was certainly— vivid. The sadism of such a statement catching Takemura slightly off guard.

“Wow. ” said a voice instantly recognized by both of them as V’s , “I mean, that is one stone cold line. I think I’ll steal that.”

---

“Shit, V— you need me to get Tom?” Panam had all but forgotten about Takemura, moving around to V’s cot to try and prevent the other woman from getting up.

“No.”

Yes. An indignant Johnny-Silverhand-induced auditory hallucination said quietly in the back of her mind. Maybe one day she’d get lucky and forget what the guy sounded like, then her head-voice would go back to just being her voice.

More importantly, she was nauseated as all fucking get out and Panam’s hand on her arm was doing a great job of making V feel a bit more grounded. She heard a faint click, the sound of someone chidingly clicking their tongue against their teeth and looked up to see Takemura had turned from them both, staring pointedly at nothing. But it was nothing away from V.

“No execution by desert, aight?” V said, lulling her head back towards Panam.

“Sure. Fine. Execution by bullet works just as well.” Panam said, shooting Takemura a dirty look that went unnoticed.

“Talkabout it later.” V said, only slightly slurring her words as she pulled the band off her head and peeled the monitors off a moment later. The computer made an alarming noise and V had a funny feeling it was becoming quickly overcrowded and overly loud for the former Arasaka bodyguard.

“Got an idea to make everyone happy.”

Takemura’s interest had been piqued. V caught him casting a look out of the corner of his eye at her.

---

What the fuck, V. Panam's voice still rang in her head, rolling around in her ears and in her skull and fueling an oncoming headache. For once, the voice didn't sound like Johnny though and maybe that was a good sign.

Of course Panam would hate the plan. But in the end, it wasn’t her choice. It wasn’t her life and although it had gone over about as well as V expected, for now, things were set. When she came back inside the tent, Tom had provided Takemura with an old t-shirt, the design on the front so faded it was barely more than a static of print.

His hair was down, which shrouded the grey near his temples and made him look somehow… younger. Less stiff. The look in his eyes though had not changed. Steel resolve and hardened granite. He had built a wall between them and V could hardly blame him for it… in the end, she hadn’t kept her end of the deal. But then again, she was still right where she was at the start. Sick, dying and Arasaka’s most wanted. So he could hardly say he kept up his either.

“Option one,” she began, “I’m dying. So honestly, killin’ me at this juncture would be a relief from what I got coming for me. It’s gonna be slow. It’s gonna be awful. I’m offering you front row seats to watchin’ my body slowly eat itself alive.”

Takemura’s eyes narrowed.

“I know what you’re thinkin’. ‘But you’re lookin’ for a cure’. We are. Which brings me to option two. We let you stick around while we look. If we find one and I get fixed up? You get your pistols at dawn or whatever. Get the satisfaction of knowing you got to kill me when I’m not already dead. Hell, not gonna lie. You killin' me after all this bullshit and then after I save my life too? That would be... well, I’ll give you a genuine fight for my life. If that’s what you want.”

V shrugged, “And you’ve already heard option three.”

“These options require me staying with this caravan for an unknown amount of time.”

“Six months, actually. Or five rather. So yeah. Five month wait..”

“How do I know they will not kill me before either of these things happen?”

V grinned.

“I asked them nicely.”

“Why?”

Her smile faltered.

“Why not pick option three for yourself?” Takemura said, offering the most practical and simple solution. The one she was sure right now, if they were in reverse situations, he would take.

It was a good damn question too. And V was certain she had a good damn answer half a second ago, but now with Takemura staring at her, grey eyes shrewd and with just a flicker of uncertainty… shit, seeing him at all… it made the words sound so ridiculous.

“I told you I didn’t mean for what happened to happen. I owe you, for a lot and this is the only way it’ll… sit right. For us both, I think. You don’t seem the type that would get much satisfaction outta killing me how I am now.”

V laughed, a nervous bubble of sound as she turned her eyes away and picked at a frayed thread on the knee of her pants.

“Also...guess cause we were friends once I feel like I should give you some closure. Not somethin’ I’ve gotten much in life, but welp. Here is my chance to give some.”

“...You wish to die with some honor restored.” Takemura’s voice for once held no trace of disgust, no edge of hatred. His voice was quiet, resigned. Understanding. It was not a tone V had ever thought to hear again from the man.

“Yeah, sure... if you’ll let me.”

Neither of them met each other's eyes. Two people, staring holes into opposite sides of a tent, as if refusing to acknowledge one another would somehow make them feel less.

“It is two options, not three.”

V looked up at the remark.

“Option one is, remain to witness your death or be the cause of it should you recover. Option two is motor oil and pistol.”

V held back a smile just barely. How could someone remain this pedantic even when discussing such a morbid topic?

“I accept option one.” Takemura met her eyes, only briefly, “I am patient man. I can wait.”

“Plus it gives you time to actually heal and then say fuck it and off me in my sleep or something.”

Takemura wrinkled his nose, “I could ‘off’ you now if you’d like.”

He pulled up his arm, revealing that at some time during all this chatting and debating he had gotten out of one of the cuffs.

Takemura casually used his other hand to put his thumb back in its socket, finding it impossible to miss how V did a full body shudder at the sound.

“Hard pass.” she said, still cringing.

“I will honor my word,” Takemura said, easily making work of the other handcuff and tossing it aside. He flexed his fingers, bringing them up to begin pulling his hair out of his face. V, for some reason, felt compelled to avert her gaze. It felt weirdly intimate, like she was watching him undress. Takemura brushed his fingertips over his wrist, frowning to himself before letting his hair go, falling back around his shoulders.

“You need a scrunchie?” V asked, unable to stop the small smile from forming at the corner of her mouth. What could she say? Johnny had tried to kill her once and she forgave him. Her standards were never exactly high. And a part of her, a small hopeful part of her thought maybe there was still time to make something right before she died.

Wrong city for happy endings. Her inner voice chided in Johnny's flat tone. But they weren't in Night City anymore.

#cp 2077 #cp 2077 v #cp2077 fanfic #cp 2077 takemura x v #takemura x v #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cp2077 fanfiction

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aliceslantern · 4 years ago

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Heartlines, a Kingdom Harts fanfic, chapter 28--Epilogue

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Time passes. The kingdom recovers. A prophecy comes full circle.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Life was a work in progress. There were periods of unrest in the kingdom which were not always easy to smooth over with words, but Ansem did not want to use force. “Remember, Ienzo, a riot is the language of the unheard.”

Flowers began to bloom in Radiant Garden again. There was still signs of destruction everywhere--rubble, smashed out windows, destroyed buildings. But piece by piece, it was getting put together. The resistance based itself in the capital city and started what it called a “restoration committee,” not just to restore the city, but the whole kingdom.

Demyx spent a lot of time at the beach with Amalia, now that they both had their forms. Ienzo wondered if it would be salt in wounds to go to Destiny Islands at some point. He would ask when he felt ready.

Something else was growing too.

When he felt the nausea, the fatigue and dizziness, and the achiness, Ienzo did not delude himself into denial as he did the last time. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, good and hard. He held his hand in front of his stomach and reached out, tentatively. Something was there, a potential for a new life. But he did not feel the overwhelmed sense of panic he had when he was first pregnant with Amalia. He was still young, ridiculously so, but would this be so terrible?

He sought Even, who was busy puttering around the labs. There was light in his eyes again, joy, at having something productive to do. In fact, he did not seem bothered by Ienzo’s interruption. “No bureaucratic nonsense today?”

“My father insisted I take the morning off.”

“Your daughter?”

“Out swimming. I swear, sometimes I have difficulty getting the two of them to come home.”

“...It is good, to see Demyx happy again. I was… concerned.”

“Were you? You could barely stand each other in the beginning.”

Even rolled his eyes and pulled off his goggles. “Adversity draws people together,” he said. “I wonder often… if I have hardened my heart too much. I am trying… to let people back in.”

“And how is that going?”

He considered. “It is going,” he said. “But better than being stalled. Good to be… active. And to see you some semblance of safe at last.”

Ienzo came a bit closer. He was working on one of the replicas, a faceless white mannequin half covered with a sheet. “Does it feel good to see your work come to fruition?”

“It is bittersweet--putting it mildly.” He sighed. “If not for… that creature’s breakthroughs, this would not be possible.”

“It is still your creation.” Ienzo paused. “Even, have you met Xion?”

He fussed with tubes of mystery fluid. “Who?”

“Xion, Xemnas’s… ward. I shall have to introduce you.”

His eyes snapped up. “Why?”

“Because she is one of the replicas.”

“Of whom?”

“Of nobody. Herself.”

Even grasped his shoulders. “And you only tell me this now, boy?”

“Please be gentle with me, Even.”

He seemed to be reeling. “...Why?”

“I find myself to be in an indelicate condition. As it were.”

He turned red. “ Again ? Child, you know what causes that, right?”

Ienzo chuckled. “Would it be so terrible, to get the childrearing over with while my father is still able to help me rule?”

Even pressed a hand to his forehead and sputtered wordlessly. After a moment, he composed himself and held a hand over Ienzo’s stomach. “...Quite. I do not know whether to laugh… or cry…”

“Go seek Xion. She’s a guard on the upper floors. I know that’s where your heart is.”

He was already taking his coat off, grabbing a tablet computer. “Yes… right… we can discuss this later…” And he was out the door.

Ienzo returned to their rooms. To his surprise, Demyx and Amalia were back. “Done for the day already?”

Demyx gestured out the window. “It’s gonna storm. Plus I figured I owe you some lunch.” He leaned forward to kiss him, and Ienzo could taste the salt.

“Ra!” Amalia said.

“Right, rain.” Ienzo crouched down and smoothed the wet hair from her face.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up. What do you feel like? There’s this new place that’s opened back up not far out of the gates--”

Ienzo followed him into the bathroom. Demyx laughed a little.

“Look, I’d be so down, but like, she’s right in the other room--”

“I’m pregnant.” He didn’t know why the words had to leave him now, without ceremony.

Demyx just blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“Oh…” A small smile. “Oh… Do you want to--”

“I… want them.” He swallowed. “Get it over with while we’re young, right? While my father is still helping me? I can’t imagine going through this while being fully responsible for everything else.”

Demyx hugged him. “Round two?”

“...It seems so. I mean, to be fair, we were not the least bit careful, and it has been happening quite a lot lately--”

He kissed his forehead. “They’re going to be great.”

---

As it stormed later that night… Ienzo lay awake. He’d been even more of an insomniac during pregnancy, and he hadn’t much missed that. But he could not sleep. Demyx, who could basically sleep at will, had one arm draped over his stomach.

A particularly loud peal of thunder made Demyx stir, and from the other room Ienzo heard Amalia shriek and start to cry. Demyx’s eyes fluttered open. “It’s okay,” Ienzo told him. “I’ve got this. Go back to sleep.”

The drawing room had been turned into a nursery more fully now, the soft light of the mobile reflecting the rain in the room. Amalia was still crying. Ienzo leaned over the crib and hefted her into his arms. He settled in the old rocking chair. “It’s just a storm, sweetheart,” he said.

“Bad,” she said. “Bad, bad.”

“I know. It scared you.” He rocked gently. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe. How about a story?”

Ienzo told her a story he’d learned from Demyx, about a rainbow fish that gradually gave up its scales to help others. He let his power cast a quiet illusion along the walls, of a deep blue sea, of that same fish swimming seemingly in midair. Somewhere in this, she fell back asleep, and rather than put her back in her crib, Ienzo remained there, thinking.

She hadn’t mentioned a sibling in the Forecast. Her words had been “we live with dad and grandpa in the castle”. If he gave birth on schedule, that child would be her age by the time of the Forecast.

But at the same time, toddlers were selfish. It could’ve just slipped her mind. Perhaps she was closer to Even or Ansem than her own sibling. Ienzo took a deep breath. Part of pregnancy was being illogically anxious.

It would be fine.

---

Perhaps it was for this reason, but Ienzo kept news of this child from Ansem. A few weeks passed, tremulously. He kept at work, meeting officials, sitting in committee meetings, deciding, deciding. Helping organize a parliamentary election.

After one such meeting, he was gathering his papers to return to his study when he felt a cramp, hard. He gasped aloud. “Are you alright, your highness?” Lydia asked. She was back to her post as librarian, and she’d brought him some books.

He blinked. “I’m… fine,” he said woodenly. Cramping during the first few months was normal, wasn’t it? Might be worth getting himself examined anyway. “It is nothing.”

“...Alright. Well, pardon me for overstepping, but perhaps you might rest. It’s been a long day.”

He swallowed, trying to choke down the dread. “I shall. Thank you.”

He made his way back not towards his rooms, but towards Even. The pain stuck him hard under the heart, and he had to duck into a bathroom before he lost composure. He wasn’t sure what whisper of an instinct told him so, but he pulled down his pants and checked his underwear.

Blood. A not-insignificant amount. He stuffed one of the small folded hand towels between his legs--mentally apologizing to the launderers--and hazily kept going. He almost stumbled getting the lab door open. “Even,” he said, and perhaps it was his tone, but the man immediately looked up.

“Ienzo, what--”

“Something isn’t right. With the baby.”

He grabbed him immediately and herded him over to one of the replicas’ exam tables. “And yet you drag yourself all the way down here instead of going to the infirmary.”

“I wasn’t--I didn’t want--”

He touched his face. “I know, love. Wait--are you--”

The blood must’ve seeped through the hand towel. “Fuck,” Ienzo murmured. He felt the coldness of Even’s magic assessing him.

He turned pale. “Ienzo, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But is it--”

“There’s no heartbeat, and you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. There’s no… life.”

Another cramp overtook him. “They weren’t in the Forecast--I tried to convince myself it was not so--”

“I know. I know, love. We should get you to the infirmary--”

“Please, no.” He felt more wetness between his legs.

“You’re losing too much blood to justify receiving care from only me.”

How awkward, and humiliating. Even carried him like a child. Hazily, he was changed, cleaned, given something to absorb the blood, fluids, painkillers. He let himself ride this quasi-consciousness, until a hand took his. “Zo?”

“Demyx? I--I’m sorry…” He swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. “I lost it…” His hair obscured things from view.

“The important thing is you’re okay.”

“She didn’t mention them, I should’ve known--”

Demyx drew him close and held him for a long time.

---

It took him a while to recover from the miscarriage. Not so much physically--he was back to “normal” within several days--but emotionally he felt scrambled, exhausted. He did not know it was possible to love something so small so much.

Ansem insisted he take time off. Demyx waited on him hand and foot, but he was shaken too. Ienzo slept too much, could barely look at Amalia. He was taking a bath, his mind positively going nowhere, eyes unfocused on the ceiling tiles, when he heard small footsteps. “Da-dee?”

Wearily, he looked over. “What is it, love?”

She was holding her favorite stuffed animal, a unicorn she’d named Pinky. She offered it to him.

“Thank you, but I don’t want Pinky to get wet.” He set the toy on the chair by the tub.

She leaned over the lip of the tub. “Hurt?” she said.

“I’m just tired, love.”

“Hurt,” she asserted.

Ienzo sighed. “Yes, I’m sad. You know it’s okay to be sad sometimes, right?”

She nodded. “Help?”

He kissed her. “You already are.”

---

Perhaps because it was through this particular lens of sadness, but suddenly it seemed strange that he, governed so by emotions, be the one responsible for the welfare of this country. He, whose sole “mandate to rule” was his power. Why was it that, despite humanity’s long and colorful history in this country, there had never been strides made towards democracy, or anything other than absolute power?

There had been abdications, in the past. Ienzo found himself reading about them voraciously. There had been some good reasons for such actions--fundamental disagreements about faith and the way the country should be governed, a lack of acceptance of sexuality or gender, the heir apparent believing they were not competent enough--and some not so. Considering the convoluted transfer of power, from firstborn to firstborn only , it was amazing the monarchy had not collapsed under its weight or lost its power somewhere in the past. Should the firstborn, say, die in a tragic accident, or from an aneurysm prior to having an heir, that power was simply lost for a generation. And should that first child be sufficiently… along , enough in utero, and something were to happen to them, that counted.

Ienzo needed to talk to Ansem. “Father?”

He took off his glasses. “What is it?”

“Can I talk to you?”

He offered a smile. “Of course. How are you feeling, dear heart?”

He sighed and sat down. “This has all been very… overwhelming.”

“I’m sure. Loss of a child… even one that is not yet living… is very heavy stuff indeed.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… mortality. Human weakness. Limitations of the body.” He found himself looking at his knees. “The fragility of my… power. How does it make me qualified to rule? The child I lost… could very well have been Amalia, some months along the line. Suddenly that power is gone.” He touched his abdomen. “Father, this whole monarchy… is starting to feel very…”

“Pointless?” He rubbed his brows. “I agree entirely. But the last thing people need right now is a radical change in government. We’re only just settling. Imagine what might happen if we suddenly propose some other form of rule?”

“...I know.”

“Once this is all over… I’m wondering if we should…”

“...Abdicate?” He cocked his head slightly.

Ienzo took a breath. “Am I a traitor for even thinking it?”

“Oh, Ienzo. No. Not at all. Class division is part of how we got into this mess in the first place. That you seek to abolish it shows your love for your people. Perhaps it might be worth it to consider the schema as to how this will be put in place.”

Ienzo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Truthfully?”

“Truly.”

“...Thank you.”

---

Time passed.

Amalia was growing so quickly . She started to speak more clearly, in longer sentences. She started to show more magic. Once, Ienzo walked into her room and saw books hanging in the air all around them. “Look,” she said. “They’s flying.”

Demyx expressed his own desire to do work of some kind. “People need art,” he told Ienzo. “They’re going to need a way to deal with all that pain.” Together, they jumpstarted a national art program. To finally be active, to finally be helping people in a meaningful way… Ienzo felt… fulfilled.

This was all going to take work, probably constantly. But that there might be a day where they could have a simple, happy life with their family gave him pleasure.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, but one spring day Amalia asked if they could go on a picnic. The day was sunny, the flowers were in bloom. He was sitting on a blanket on a patch of grass in the plaza. He worked the teardrop-shaped pendant absently with one hand. He knew that at some point they'd have to formally get married as long as he was in the public eye. But for now... this was enough.

“Daddy, look!” She opened her hands, revealing a small magic flower. “I made it!”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s beautiful.” The deja vu struck him with insistence.

She smiled widely, and reached to be picked up, so he did. “Can we go to the garden?”

“Of course.” Demyx was supposed to meet them there after his lesson in the city. He took the picnic blanket and set off.

“Do you think this is real?”

“What do you mean, love?”

“This. Right now.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno… a ‘motion I had.”

“A feeling?” Ienzo offered. Then, “I had a dream when I was pregnant with you.”

“When I was in your tummy?”

“That’s right. And you sent me a memory, of this moment, right now.”

“What I say?”

“You told me about our friends. The ones who met you when you were a baby.”

She laughed. “Isa and mister Xemnas.”

“Yes. You told me everything I needed to know. It’s because of you this is all like this, you know?”

“I know,” she said, unimpressed. “Where’s daddy?”

“He’s on his way.”

They passed through the castle gates to the gardens, which were lush and full again. Aerith was tending to the flowers; she waved. “Hi flower lady,” Amalia called loudly.

“Hey yourself,” she said back.

Ienzo set down the blanket on a patch of clean glass.

“There’s my favorite girl.” Demyx set down the sitar. He scooped her up and gave her a kiss. “Did she give you much trouble?”

“Not today. Not yet. Did you get the i-c-e c-r-e-a-m?”

“Ice cream!” Amalia shouted.

“Zo, she’s too smart for that.” Demyx laughed. “Sold out, I’m afraid.”

Ienzo sighed. He’d been looking forward to it all day.

“But I did get these from someone at the lesson.” He handed Ienzo a bag with a pastry box inside. “Egg tarts. Several people told me they are to die for.” He sat down with their daughter.

Ienzo took them out and handed one to Amalia. “...Do you know,” he began. “Today’s the day.”

Demyx frowned. “What day?”

“It all came full circle. The Forecast. On the way over here.”

“Oh… wow. Really?”

He smiled. “And the future is again aqueous.”

“Like that’s a bad thing? Look, if we knew every minute, we’d always be trying to plan things. We wouldn’t get to decide.” He brushed a crumb from their daughter’s mouth. “Because of her… and you… we do now. I’m okay with that.”

“I… am too.” He swallowed.

“It’ll be us against the world.” His eyes were so soft.

“I know that.” He chuckled. “It’s terrifying, to have the choice. I think I’d like to finish university first.”

“School, school,” Amalia said eagerly. “Me and daddy go to school.” She was going to go to nursery school in the fall.

“Daddy’s going to school for big kids,” Demyx said to her. “You’re going with kids your age. Little.”

“Not little.” She huffed, then brightened. “School and make lots of friends!”

“She’s like you all right,” Ienzo said.

“Dunno. She’s too smart for her own good--like you.”

“I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up,” Ienzo admitted.

“I wanna be a cat doctor. Or a rockstar. Or maybe…” Amalia stuck out her tongue in thought. “Wanna be an explorer .”

“You already are, silly.” Demyx tickled her, and she squealed.

“I do still want to help people. Maybe psychology, or…” He trailed off. “To be determined.”

“Well, you’ve got time.” Demyx picked up one of the egg tarts and all but crammed it into Ienzo’s mouth.

He scowled, but then, “These are good.”

“Right?”

---

The sun was setting. Ienzo watched it from his alcove in the library. This was his favorite spot, its light, its smell of varnished wood and old books. But he wasn’t reading.

“...It is lovely, isn’t it?”

Ienzo looked up and saw Even, for once without his lab coat, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Where were you?”

“I was… with your father. I’m afraid he made me take a walk in the garden.”

Ienzo felt his lips twitch into a smile. “Well, was it a nice walk?”

He wondered if he was imagining the blush. “It is good to get fresh air,” he said evasively. He leaned against the desk next to Ienzo. “So I hear you’re to… abdicate.”

“In several years, once things settle, but… yes. And Demyx will abdicate on Amalia’s behalf. No more royalty. Whatever we have left will simply be ceremonial, if that.”

Even chuckled gently. “All the time I spent defending the monarchy, and you’re giving it up. You are making me gray, child.” But he said this pleasantly. “Yes… change is not so bad. The world needed it. We needed it. We could not… run forever.”

“Do you feel good, to no longer be running?”

“I do,” he admitted. “I felt such a coward for so many years. To get my hands dirty is a relief.”

“I have to thank you, for all you’ve done for me. I took you for granted.”

Even reached over and brushed the hair out of his face. “Well raising you certainly wasn’t easy.”

He laughed a little.

“In all seriousness, Ienzo, I didn’t do it entirely out of duty. I loved you--and I still love you--as if you were my own. Bonds don’t change, the… lines between hearts.”

“Heartlines?” He raised his eyebrow. “My father must be rubbing off on you. You were never so philosophical.”

“I am trying to open my heart.” He put a hand to his chest. “And it is painful, but I feel I am… growing. Never thought I would have to at my age.”

“And what of things with Xion?”

“She is a lovely girl. She’ll do well once she starts school. We’re trying to spend time together. In a way… she is my child.” A sigh. “Though this research… what right have I to create new life?”

“You saved many who would be the seeker of darkness’s victims.”

“...A cold comfort.” He tapped his fingertips together. “Come, then. That husband of yours is attempting to cook.”

Ienzo felt a shimmer at “husband”, but was it not true? Ceremony or no ceremony. “He’s a good cook, Even, you just have an unenlightened palette.” He stood and together they began to walk.

“...I’ll just chalk it up to cultural differences. I suppose… all of this could’ve been much worse, yes?”

“It could’ve.” He paused. “Will we… once I leave this place, Even, will we still be part of one another’s lives?”

He seemed perturbed. “Of course, Ienzo. Always.” He squeezed his hand. “Don’t fear change the way I did.”

“I won’t.” He swallowed, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion. “I promise, I won’t.”

#heartlines #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #child oc - amalia #even (kingdom hearts)

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