#if any real artists have any tips for how to do more than just recreating photos I’d love to hear them tbh

[mxmorel]

trans joy 🥰🏳️‍⚧️

[userpeggycarter]

hi! someone requested me to do a tutorial based on this gifset!

this tutorial requires an intermediate knowledge of gifmaking. i won’t teach you how to do gifs from scratch, there are other tutorials for that out there.

[tutorial under the cut]

THE BASICS

AN INTRODUCTION

first off, the gifset in question is based on this gifset by @/eddiediaaz and i got permission from them to explain the process. i won’t be sharing the template because it’s a near replica of theirs (that isn’t shared to the public) and i don’t feel comfortable doing so, but you can recreate it by yourself just like i did!

also, ESL, so please pardon any mistakes.

THE FONT

Circular ST (Medium & Black). download it here & here.

CLIPPING MASKS

clipping masks are the way i put images and gifs inside of shapes. i used that method in the first and second gif of the Spotify gifset as you can see here. what does a clipping mask do? basically, it links two or more layers together in a way it follows the “shape” of your base layer. ie, everything that is shown follows the “shape” of your main layer and nothing more. your base layer can be anything: a shape, an image, a gif, a text, an adjustment layer, really everything. let’s see an example:

CLIPPING MASKS & SHAPES

the original image (Gun 'n' Roses logo) is intact, as in, it’s not cut like a circle, something that cannot be undone. instead, everything outside the limits of the blue circle is just hidden. if i delete the base layer (the circle layer), the original image will appear as it originally is, as an rectangle. talking about layers, let’s see my layers panel (some things are in Portuguese, but i think you can understand):

notice the little arrow pointing downwards to the “circle” layer. that is the clipping mask symbol. the base layer always needs to be below what is being clipped. if the base layer is deleted, the chain is broken and every layer clipped will now act independently and have its original shape. you can have as many clipped layers as you want. you can also have multiple chains going on in a .psd, each one with its own base layer. to clip a layer, you just need to press ctrl+alt+G or cmd+option+G while having the layer you want to clip selected (NOT your base layer). or, you can go to LAYER > CREATE CLIPPING MASK.

CLIPPING MASKS & TEXT

let’s see the same example, but with text instead:

A TIP

because adjustment layers are clippable, you can completely gif by using clipping masks. this is very useful when you have more than one gif inside a canvas and don’t want an adjustment layer to affect everything besides a certain layer/element.

let’s take my first gif of the Spotify gifset as an example.

the circle is the base layer. the “Carol smiling” layer is my gif converted to a smart filter. above that “Carol smiling” layer, there is a black and white gradient map and two color fills of white so i can achieve the coloring you see. all those layers are clipping onto the circle layer, making my now b&w gif have the shape of a small circle as well. those layers are in a folder in the .psd of my first gif, so i don’t have multiple files sitting on my PC to assemble just one gif. i could have giffed that small gif separately and pasted it onto my canvas as well, but i like to do this way so i can adjust everything i want in real time instead of redoing a gif over and over every time i want to change something.

HOW TO MAKE EACH GIF

all gifs are 540x540px.

THE FIRST GIF

the first gif has 6 elements. the elements are: a big gif serving as a background (a close-up of Carol), a smaller gif inside a circle (a b&w gif of Carol smiling) as a profile picture and four static images for the featured artists. i giffed as i normally do (loaded screencaps, resized the gif, sharpened the gif, etc) for my background gif. to achieve the coloring, i’ve added a gradient map (layer > new adjustment layer > gradient map) purple to pink. to the profile picture, i made a 160x160px circle in the top left corner. the color of it doesn’t matter. the next step is a matter of taste: i giffed the smaller gif in the same .psd thanks to clipping masks that i explained earlier, but you can do it in a separate canvas too. for the featured artists, i made four circles with 98x98px each. for the images, i had to check Spotify for their selected PFPs. after that, i googled “[band/artist] spotify” to find the images. the PFP of bands and artists in the Spotify app are displayed in black and white, so you might have to make them b&w if you happen to find them only in color. to make the artists PFPs pop a bit more, i transformed them into smart filters and added a bit of sharpening to them (intensity 10 x radius 10). you can adjust the colors and the brightness if you want, too. the sizes of the texts in the gif are: 58px (username), 20px (top artists of the month), 15px (name of the artists), 12px (only visible to you + show all + profile) and 11px (following and follower numbers).

SECOND GIF

for the chart, i created a black rectangle (490x308px) that i set its blending mode to lighten (thus making it transparent) and i added an internal white stroke. i added the text and the little squares next to the top 6 numbers. the font sizes are: 17px (top tracks this month), 11px (only visible to you), 14px (song title, show all, top 6 numbers), 13px (artist/band, album title, length of the song). i added the album covers — that i made b&w — by clipping images onto 32x32px squares. for the coloring, i added a gradient map (dark purple > light purple).

THIRD GIF

there are three types of playlists in this gif: a Spotify original playlist, a playlist made by a user and a Mix. you don’t have to follow this formula if you don’t want to, but in the case you do, here’s how i did it: browse Spotify for an original playlist of theirs. chances are, if you google the playlist’s name, you can find its cover on Google Images. at least, i found the “All Out 80s” cover that i used in my gifset. you can also create your own. for the user playlist, just pick four songs and find their (album) covers, also on Google. create a square canvas on Photoshop and make four squares, each in one quadrant of the canvas. paste your images onto your canvas and clip the images to each square. then, add a gradient map (black + whatever color you want) to all those images and title your playlist (font size: ). save that collage as a PNG and load to your gif canvas or merge all the layers+transform into a smart filter and drag the smart filter layer onto your gif canvas. now, the trickiest one. while you can invent your own Mix, i wanted to use a real one, but i had no idea on how to find them. thanks to reddit, i discovered that, if you search “made for you” on Spotify, you will find their Mixes! some of them are very whacky and specific! i just picked the Mix that made the most sense for Carol from that (gigantic) list. before doing the next step, i would advise you to google the name of the Mix you picked to see if you are able to find the cover of it with good quality. i wasn’t able to find mine (Karaoke  Mix), so i just screenshotted my Spotify app, pasted that screenshot into Photoshop and cut the Mix cover and pasted that onto my canvas. the quality wasn’t great, so i transformed the cover into a smart filter, added a bit of gaussian blur and then sharpened it (intensity 10 x radius 10). the color wasn’t what i wanted either, so i used Hue/Saturation to change the hue. because the original image for the Mix was smaller than i wanted and i stretched it to make it bigger, the quality of the text and the Spotify logo was botched. i painted over the Mix cover and created a text with the font i linked earlier to replace its now pixelated title. i also painted over the little Spotify logo, found a logo in the internet and pasted over the Mix cover about the same size of the original logo. to achieve the “3D effect” of the gif, i made my b&w gif, the base. then, i duplicated all layers and added a gradient map (black > pink) and merged all the layers of that duplicate. i made a second replica of my gif, now with a different gradient map (black > blue). i set both replicas to the ligthen blending mode. you will notice that the replicas will "disappear" and only the original b&w gif will remain. if you move the replicas a bit, that colored border will appear. this doesn't work much in very bright gifs without a lot of dark areas, btw.

FOURTH GIF

this gif used an altered (by me) version of this template. (i changed the fonts to match the rest of the gifset, too.) for the color text effect, you will have to gif with the timeline bar. take your gif’s length and do the math to find how many frames are ⅓ of it. take your lyrics’ layer and cut it into three equal parts or close to it by using the scissors icon in the timeline panel. in each third, change the color of just one line, line by line. when you play your gif, the colors of the lyrics will change like in Karaoke. you can do the same thing with frames iirc, though. i explained the timeline method because that’s the one i used in this gifset and use in general gif making. for the coloring, i added a gradient map. to make the colors pop a bit more, i add two gradient maps: the first one is in black and white, the other is in color. that adds depth to the blacks and darker colors of the gif.

FIFTH GIF

like in the Top Playlists gif, i wanted for my Daylist to be real as well. to achieve that, i listened to my Carol Danvers companion playlist (that you can listen here) for a long time until my Daylist refreshed itself. (Daylists refresh in certain times of the day — don't worry, Spotify will tell you when.) then, i just copied what it told me — the title and the genres i listened to generate such a Daylist, plus the genres i should check it out. you can invent your own Daylist if you want, but because it is generated by AI, i find very difficult to mimic its crazy titles, but you can try! you can also search in the web for other people’s Daylists if you want, but usually people don’t tell you what they listened to to get those playlists and nor what was recommended for them to listen to and i, at least, find that information important for the gifset. be aware that Daylists aren't available for every country yet (like in mine), but i found a way to work around that. the browser Opera GX offers a free "VPN" — not exactly a VPN, but it works close enough — so you can set your location to the US and listen to in-browser Spotify. i recommend not log into Tumblr while using Opera's VPN as there is a myth (that could easily be true!) that Tumblr terminates people's accounts that use a VPN. font sizes: 43px (daylist title), 13px (text), 12px ("daylist" & "made for"). for the flare effect, i searched for flare overlays on YouTube and downloaded one of those videos with 4K Video Downloader, a free software. i loaded the overlay into Photoshop and added a gradient map (purple > pink) over it, thus changing its color. i pasted the overlay onto my b&w gif and set its blending mode to screen. voila!

that's it! i hope you liked it and that i was able to express myself well. if you have any questions, feel free to contact me, i love helping people about their gifmaking questions! 💖

[thelastrefrigerator]

This is gonna be a long one

To any new and old followers and people dropping by:

TLDR

I'm an odd person with a large amount of interests and beliefs.

You will find that I don't interact that much.

Info:

Age: 18

Bi and european.

Knows about a wide amount of topics with a small amount of knowledge in each.

Has been very good at not being an active part in that many communities (being a lurker most of the time)

Variety of youtubers and artists I follow

Linus Tech Tips

Will Wood

Cosmo Sheldrake

Tomska

Sr Pelo

Berd

Eltorro64Rus

Pantsless Pajamas

Aimkid

Grian

Technoblade (Rest In Peace)

City Planner Plays

Real Civil Engineer

Rtgame

Fun facts about me:

I have a large head, and am slightly near-sighted (literally)

I'm taller than average

I don't like interacting too much

My brain goes weird around people

I don't drink as I don't know how I am when I'm drunk. Also, beer taste disgusts me.

I like thinking up worlds, characters and stories, and proceed to not share them anywhere. Not even here.

I am not good at keeping attention when stuff feels useless/worthless (to the detriment of my grades).

I like gathering information about subjects I find interesting, keeping my attention on them for longer periods of time (to the detriment of my grades).

I like making milkshakes and smoothies when it gets too hot outside.

Music helps making me keep focus (i'm currently listening to Hawaii: part II - the mind electric).

I sometimes go on rants about literally anything, which usually drains people around me from energy (I suck their energy. It's mine now).

I overthink a lot when I make posts (this has been in drafts for weeks).

I probably maybe have a form of social anxiety and/or autism (not diagnosed, so therefore not proven).

I do not like to self diagnose.

I have read the entirety of wings of fire (and so should you)

Most of my days are spent in front of a computer screen.

I'm constantly looking for self improvement, and trying to better my mental health.

In my opinion:

Music is yes. music is all

Self diagnosing is good.

Self diagnosing up to the individual person (please for the love of god do not put labels on other people that they do not feel comfortable with).

The third arc of wings of fire was the weakest one.

The second arc of wings of fire had some of the best books.

Capitalism has on average made humanity more depressed.

Communism is currently only good on paper.

Liberalism is pure freedom, low to no taxes, but highly favors people with a lot of money. It directly ignores people in need.

Socialism is not liberal nor communistic. It is very controlling, high taxes, but has a large focus on economic safety nets for people in need.

Conservatism slows down change, be it for the better or the worse. Like socialism it is controlling, medium taxes.

Socio-liberalism is the ideal form of government in the current world.

Debates are only debates if both parties are listening. Otherwise, they are arguments.

Free healthcare is a human right.

Abortion is healthcare.

Medical weed should be legal

Recreational nicotine products should either be banned or remain unbanned on top of legalising recreational weed products.

People should be educated on the way their country is run (political system and whatnot)

The european union is great!

Brexit was dumb on so many levels.

You can't both be a good person and a billionaire (why don't you pay your workers/employees more, jackass?).

Not having consequences for your actions does not excuse them.

Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs.

If you have read through the entirety of this post then you are amazing

It's fine if you don't have the same political opinions as me. Just don't shove yours in my face and then tell me that I'm wrong.

I send a 'have a lovely day' to anyone that read this, and also the ones who didn't bother.

[maddgicalgirl]

Paracosm Resources <3

Need help bringing your paracosm to life? Try these free resources!

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

(Cont. below cut, or with real time updates on this google doc!)

Art Programs

FireAlpaca - 2D Art Program, Animation. Where I make most of my digital art, and paint the frames for my animations :) It is free to use, and easy to learn and use! It can make basic animations as well, such as gifs. It requires download.

Krita - 2D Art Program. Professional, free digital paint software :) I have not used it before, though I have heard good things.

GIMP - 2D Art Program, Photo Manipulation. It's free to use, but I do not like it/recommend it highly. But! If FireAlpaca and Krita don't float your stoat, try Gimp! For 2D art, but also able to emulate Photoshop to a degree ^^

Inkscape - 2D Art Program. Free to use digital illustration software. Makes 2D art :)

Of course, who can forget classics like good old MS Paint, and the new and exciting 3D MS Paint, which can both be used to create some really neat things! Classic MS Paint is available here in browser form! If you need that. I just think it's neat!

Art AI

Petalica Paint - Coloring Software. An in browser, watercolor manga style coloring software, which can (almost) effortlessly color in any of your line art pieces! I've played around with it for my Thorn illustration style piece, and enjoyed it! It is free to use, and can take user input to make the colorations more precise.

ArtBreeder - 3D Realism Software. Using Artbreeder, you can create lifelike images of your paras, planets, or potentially even fursona, using the intricate AI they let you work with for free! A premium version exists, but most functions are fully usable without - though I recommend donating ^^ You can randomly generate, or prune and shape what you make until its perfect! Slow to use and get the hang of, but very worth it! Artbreeder is also pioneering an intriguing animation software to go alongside their product! Browser based.

3D Software

Blender - 3D Modeling, Animation. The best (in my opinion) free 3D modelling software.

MagicaVoxel - 3D Pixel Art. Free to use! Could be interesting :)

MikuMikuDance - 3D Rigging. Anime style rigging and animation software, free to use, and certified internet artefact! Has stood the test of time, and is still used and loved today. Can support ports of many kinds of assets, including, I believe, those from Blender, and of course those that are downloaded. DA has a bunch of old MMD communities you can raid for assets!

Animaze - Face Rigger. Use 3D models and a webcam to watch your paras talk! Models can be made in Blender, downloaded online, or even from CHARAT V, CHARAT GENESIS sister app!

Character Creators

CHARAT GENESIS - 2D Character Creator. Browser based anime style character creator, with multiple crops and poses, and infinitely customizable options. It is legitimately insane. Has a 3D function called CHARAT V which can apparently convert characters made in CHARAT GENESIS into 3D models compatible with Face Rig and Animaze!

V-Katsu - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, intensive character creator, by the same people who made Koikatsu, and Koikatsu Party, two amazingly detailed 3D hentai makers. While V-Katsu is a SFW VTuber maker, if you're looking for NSFW anime content, you could always spend roughly $70 on the full NSFW versions. V-Katsu requires a translation mod (free online as well) which you have to install, or the ability to read Kanji <3 Works with VR tech.

V-Roid Studios - 3D Character Creator. Free on steam! Anime style, fairly in depth character creator, that allows for some degree of digital 3D hand sculpting, particularly with their amazing hair engine, to get your paras looks perfect!

And, of course, Picrew has thousands of character creators of various styles and quality uploaded by the artists who made them! Also, honestly I think we as a society should embrace making dinky chibis in Gacha Life. IDK why everyone is mean to the gacha kids, like we weren't all cringe at some point,

World Design

HomeStyler - 3D and 2D Room Designer. Make a model of an interior for a home or building, using real 1:1 furniture of IRL brands! Apparently this is free to use, though there is a premium version, and  it offers 3D and 2D models.

Map to World - 3D Planet Maker. Turn your fantasy world into a 3D model of the planet. Put maps directly on, or design the surface and textures of your world. Takes a lot of getting used to, but it is AMAZING. Free to use, and browser based!

PlanetMaker - 3D Planet Maker. Make a customized 3D planet! Free to use browser site! I have never used this, but I would love to mess around with it sometime! Allows you to add orbital rings, change textures, and more at the click of a mouse.

If on sale, I also recommend snagging a copy of the Sims, particularly 3 or 4, for character creation and world design. Maybe not the best gameplay without mods, but it's also a load of fun, and very easy to add custom content to! Minecraft also. But you just need Minecraft, in general. Beyond its ability to fairly faithfully recreate structures from your paracosms, it's just Good.

Game Creators

Maybe you wanna turn your paracosm into a cool game idk, just thought I'd put these here!

Construct 3 - 2D Game Creator. Beginner level game making :) Drag-and-drop if/then style programming.

GameSalad - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style/no coding, beginner friendly. Free version available!

Solpeo - 2D Game Creator. HTML5 based game engine for 2D and isometric game development. Some programming knowledge needed. Platforms supported: Chrome, Firefox, Internet Explorer 9+. Free version available.

Stencyl - Codeless 2D Game Creator. Drag and drop style building/no coding skills needed. Has editable templates!

Scratch - 2D Game Creator. Very easy to use and totally free, though relatively basic!

Unity - 3D, 2D, and VR Game Creator. Make games with 3D software. Import your own assets (Blender compatible) or download free options, or buy the rights to models. Works for 3D and 2D games. Free version available, and now works with VR tech!

Unreal Engine - 3D Game Creator. Extremely advanced 3D game developer. Highly customizable. Free to use!

Twine - Text-based Game Creator. Use a map to make a branching paths text-based story game. Free to use.

Squiffy - Text-based Game Creator. have used Squiffy and it can make some really, truly incredible things. Can take a while to pick up, and learn how to use to its full potential. Free to use! Has an online and offline library of player creations you can get inspiration from!

Quest - Text-based Game Creator. I've never used this, but it seems cool! Use it to make interactive text-based DND game adventures in browser.

Ren'Py - Visual Novel Creator. Visual novel engine, that is well acclaimed, and of course, free to use!

Companion AI

Replika - 3D Companion.

Kajiwoto - Chatbot Companion. Customizable, learning AI you can shape into a personality. Communicates via Discord like chat box.

Organization

Toyhou.se - Character Gallery. A customizable library where you can upload all of your paras and characters for the public to view! Free to use, but requires a premium member to invite you!

Refsheet - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

Notebook.AI - Character Gallery. I haven't used it before, but I've heard good things, and that it's a suitable alternative to toyhou.se if you can't get an invite!

World Anvil - World Building Toolset. Like character galleries, but for worlds and their lore :)

Scabard - World Building Toolset. Aimed at DnD campaigners, but I reckon it'll be useful for many!

YARPS - World Building Toolset. More focused around story and lore than Scabard or World Anvil, and looks beautiful! Still in its prototype stage, however.

Pinterest - Photo Organizer. Look at, collect, and sort images into boards. Personalizes your feed based on that, and is free to use and join! However, unlike their myriad of wonderful recipes, DIY tutorials, and the likes - a lot of the images are uploaded by second parties and not credited, so be careful reuploading anything you find! Also great for finding outfits and art inspo for your paras!

Generators

Fantasy Name Generator - Name Generators. Does what it says on the tin! Generates fantasy names. Is a lovely website, run by a purportedly lovely woman.

Fantasy Map Generator - Map Generator. Randomly generates a fictional map, which you can view in 2D or 3D.

Donjon RPG Generator - Multiple Generators. Can make maps, weapons, items, etc.

Seventh Sanctum - Multiple Generators. One of my favorites from high school! Does all kinds of things - the standard items, spells, and names - but also prompts, backstories, characters, and even comedy generators!

ShindanMaker - Multiple Generators. User created and uploaded, any kind of generator you can imagine, of varying complexity. And when I say any generator? I mean ANY generator.

Audio

Audacity - Record and Edit Audio. What can't Audacity do? I love Audacity to death. At surface level, it records audio. I've used it to record voices for my paras, and get audio for animations and games I've worked on. I cannot recommend it enough. Comprehensive editing, and with some investigation, it can do so, so much more than just record simple dialogue.

FL Studios - Compose. Compose music with an unlimited free trial. Upgrades available for purchase!

Indie Game Music - Royalty Free Music Library. Free to use Indie Game Music. What it says on the box!

AudioJungle - Royalty Free Music and Audio Library. Thousands of free to use audio clips!

Online Piano - Someone could use this, for recording, or just messing around. I've seen plenty of paras who play piano, this could just be used for fun!

Online Guitar - Same reasons as above, but this site looks kinda sketchy. Use at your own risk or reward! Audio

For real, if you ever need music, sound effects, or really any MP3 clips that can be used without infringing on copyright laws, just search 'royalty free' (music/audio/insert thing here) same applies for photos! Make sure the source is reputable, however.

Tutorials

W3Schools - Coding. Learn the basics of coding, for free, online!

Miscellaneous

Debut Video Capture - Screen Recorder. Record game footage and let's plays for free! Professional and home versions. I see a few of our community members have paras who run YouTube channels, and I thought these might help! It could be a nice way to connect your parames. YouTube quality <3

Pixton - Comic Maker. Comic making website. I have no experience with this at all, but some may find it useful!

Picfont - Image Editor. Puts customizable text on an image. I used these for @paraesthetics paracosm header edits <3 It has a premium version (???) but the free version has all functions, but it crashes regularly (honestly seems timed :/) but once you get it down, it's a very quick process, and you won't have to worry about that at all.

Itch.io - Publishing. You can publish your self made games here :)

Korsakow - ??? Described as, "The Future of Storytelling" and is apparently a way to create interactive films. I *just* found out about this, but thought I should include it for someone who may know how to use and appreciate it! Free? Unknown, at the moment.

Tips and Tricks

Animation Done Easy

Our forefather's of internet animation used MS Paint, Windows Movie Maker, and Audacity. All of these, or their equivalents, are free on standard computers. I, personally, use FireAlpaca - which works just as well, if not better, than MS Paint for animation - but takes longer, and definitely lacks that retro feeling. I also use my trackpad to draw and animate everything, so its doable, but probably not totally comfortable, to animate like this for most people :)

⚠️ Updates always pending! Suggestions always welcome! Feel free to message me any tips or questions <3 ⚠️

[abimee]

hello hello! feel free to ignore this entirely, do you have any tips or advice for learning how to draw different body types and faces as well as using photo refs? I wanna get to the point of being more comfortable with it not being perfect and human but I’m not sure! How to really begin or go towards this

hm. preface i am not taught artistically at all not even highschool art class and am entirely aelf taught and like, from the viewpoint of hobbyist art currently in the US objectuvely i am a """bad artist"""" and not something to take art advice from. but i am glad to give my two cents

i think the jpimg off point is to first ruminate on the whys, and its not anobby to say that you want to draw humans more realistic in the sense of natural features and differences because you wabt others to see themselves in your work, or because youd love to draw a variety of characters. but second is coming to terms that with that, you have to do a lot of sensitive reading and understanding; you gotta research and listen to people, like say if you draw cleft lips abd someone with a cleft lip tells you that hey! its more common if they dont have teeth where the cleft is closed, you listen and adapt. attempting to get everything right the first time kinda destroys itself in the process, and as you delve into drawing say fatness, disabilities, physical differemces, etc you must come to accept that you are drawing for the people, and thus the people are allowed to criticise you and you must adapt.

thirdly is that you wont get it right instintaniously, its a learning process! dont feel the need to post your attempts online of theyre not up to par for you, but attempting is te first step in everything. you can read and research and listen and refference all you can, but if you dont consistently attempt it you wont get anywhere

and its sort of hard to say how to go about... attempting it, besides "just try". attempt to freehand, say, a tall fat person with acne scars posing for prom, or a skinny eldery person with scoliosis making tea, and when youre finished you can look at yoir piece and begin to deconstruct what you think you got wrong and what you got right. pull up (real life) refferences made by people and extrapolate what tou can re-attempt.

and as for diversifying general faces and features of humanity; engage in the moving picture, watch movies and short films and photography and youtube essays and watch the people around you, take stock of what you see in the world both behind a performed lens and in reality and see whar you may miss, what shapes you see and how peoples eyes crinkle or how their lips turn or how their fingers move. watching the world more closely is how i began to notice featres outside of my own at a young age

and as for refference photos, i think finding archive blogs cataloguing photos shot from real lives and not stock posing websites is a great way to see a range of natural poses. pausing youtube videos to refference someones legs as they attempt to kick a ball, or old myspace photos drifting across rabdom aesthetic blogs. just stare at them and the form or the composition and attempt to remake it, and attempt as many times over as many years as you want. trace over memes and teach yourself to look at bodies as shapes and lines rather than whole figures and you may be able to decobstruct and recreate those poses from memory alone soon after

and above all dont be afraid to make "bad art" in that the anatony is off or the hands are too childish compared to the detail of the image, or maybe the face looks weird or the legs are bent strangely. part of a human looking piece of art is in the flaws too

just look at all the weord anatomy and crude acribbling in my art and yet somehow people like it, so not doing everything right is sometimes good 🗿

[lil-tachyon]

Your art has such a moebius like quality that i always struggle to replicate. Do you have any tips you could share?

Hey thanks for the question! I’m a complete amateur and Moebius is, in my estimation, one of the most skilled visual artists of the last century so please take everything I have to say with a grain of salt while I answer your question. This all comes from my own experience and I am still learning. 

First of all my main piece of advice for anybody drawing anything: if you want to get good, assume that you know nothing, start from the beginning, practice fundamentals, and draw every day, even if it’s just for like 15 minutes. No amount of art advice is worth anything if you don’t draw.

Now to address your question about how to replicate a ‘Moebius-like Quality,’ I would say what you need to do is study him very carefully.

When I first started drawing seriously and getting super into Moebius and all that I made the mistake of thinking “Okay, this is just simple lines and bright, mostly flat colors underneath. Not too hard to replicate.” Which couldn’t be further from the truth. Moebius’ art has this thing about it where it can often appear really simple but you try to recreate it and you find yourself hitting a wall. Let’s look at an example:

This looks like what I said, right? Clean lines, striking color palette. But there’s more to that. First of all, the fact that the gigantic flat black shape at the bottom of the piece conveys simultaneously the impression of the girl on the left leaning against the chest of the central figure and the boy on right fading into the back of composition while not containing any detail itself should clue you in to how much of a master good o’l Gir is and how much thought and knowledge had to go into designing this piece. There’s more.

If we zoom in on the head we can learn a bit. This is the focal point of the piece and, as such, this is where all the detail is. Where lines are used sparingly throughout the rest of the comp, here they provide an abundance of detail for the central figure’s elaborate headdress with contour lines defining the shape of the yellow crest and other lines throughout intimating textile patterns. The colors are striking but they’re not just random bright colors.

There’s the light blue of the background, a smattering of desaturated purple/red colors in the headdress, and the yellow of the crest. Let’s look at a color wheel:

You should notice that yellow is on the opposite side of the wheel from the entire blue-purple section. Yellow contrasts with blues and purples. Thus, just that tiny bit of yellow is enough to make it totally pop out from the rest of the more desaturated blues and purples in the piece. So, not just some random bright colors, but some carefully thought out areas of low and high color contrast.

Let’s look at another example:

A small piece but so effective. Notice how in the top, the horizontal lines begin super tightly packed and spread to create a gradient from pack to white. Notice how the line weight increases between the shadowed and light sides of the mushroom cloud to brilliantly indicate a core shadow. Notice how the horse and rider are mostly just black shapes- but they’re composed in such a way that your mind knows exactly what they represent. Notice how the hatching that creates the ground texture also points towards the cowboy’s head as a focal point.

Another one:

Look at the linework on this. The way he varies the lineweights to indicate changes in value. The way each line describes the form of the figure and his clothes. How the lines create texture. No line here was put down by chance- each one has a purpose and Moebius knew the purpose of every mark he put on a paper.

So, I guess part one of my answer is you gotta really put the work into being a good artist and use Moebius as your guide. Get good with pens, be able to vary your lineweights, be confident with all different kinds of hatching styles, etc. Read up on color theory and see how Giraud applied it. Every new thing you learn, take that knowledge and use it to study your favorite artists and see how they applied it. That’s how you learn.

There’s a little more though and this applies to the content of Moebius’ art.

Here’s a side-by-side comparison of the Moebius’ concept art for the unmade 1970’s Dune movie with a screenshot from the new Dune movie. What makes them different? As bizarre as the Moebius design is, it feels a hundred times more real to me than the armor pictured on the right. There’s a specificity to it. Where the Moebius design feels like the result of generations of tradition and culture resulting in an outfit as elaborate, unconventional, and distinctive as that of an Ottoman Janissary, a Landsknecht, or a Samurai, the image on the right looks like a generic assemblage of armor plates with no history behind them. 

As fantastic as Moebius’ work is, it definitely has a basis in the real world. I mean, he spent years illustrating a gritty, down-to-earth cowboy comic. All his designs feel distinct and specific and I would venture to say that a lot of that comes from taking an interest in real world cultures and traditions. 

I think this is true of all real good science fiction and fantasy artists. They know how to take something from the real world and twist it to their own ends. 

I hope this answers your question and helps you find joy in creating art. That’s what it’s all about.

For more reading, here’s a William Stout article on the subject: https://www.williamstout.com/news/journal/?p=3806

As a postscript, I’ll include some other artists that I think anyone who is a fan of Moebius should check out.

Sergio Toppi:

Katsuya Terada:

Katsuhiro Otomo:

Mark Schultz:

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Daisies

Sam Winchester x Harry Styles

Word Count: ~1330

Warnings: All the fluff. Recreational drug use. Dean snark.

A/N: Rockstar AU, continued. You don’t really need to read Handshake to enjoy this, but it’s basically a follow-up. Pure silly fun. I blame it on @fookinghelljensensthighs​. 

Dean claps and whistles as Greta Van Fleet file offstage with one last wave. He doesn’t want the set to stop; it’s been a long time since he’s been able to hang out in the pit at a show with any sort of anonymity. 

He could’ve been watching from sidestage, up in the artists-only bleachers, but where’s the fun in that? 

Dean’s gotta hand it to the kid, the “disguises” he’d suggested are surprisingly effective. Dean feels utterly ridiculous with a bandanna over his mouth, like some sort of fuckin’ Old West bandit, but it did help with the dust all day, and between that and a low-angled hat, he hasn’t gotten more than a few double-takes. Harry, in his blue wig, massive sunglasses, and long skirt, didn’t draw so much as a second glance when they were walking around yesterday. Trust the former boy band member to know how to get around unnoticed. 

Speaking of, better get back to them before they decide to go on an adventure, or (worse) before the kid manages to talk Sammy into another fuckin’ genius idea like the Silly String Incident of 4am yesterday. It’s almost sunset; he’s pretty sure Harry turns into a pumpkin when you get him wet after dark. Something like that, anyway. 

About four months ago, this ostentatiously pretty dude showed up on the doorstep of the Winchesters’ Nashville house, toting a fucking Gucci overnight bag, and he just… stayed. It’s become normal to come downstairs for coffee and find an international pop star helping himself to Dean’s favorite cereal, absent-mindedly singing Prince songs while decked out in a silk kimono and a leather collar. Dean’s life is weird. 

Sammy’s been smiling a whole lot lately, though… the real, big, brilliant smiles that Dean didn’t see enough of, for a while. 

They had a few rough years, getting the band started; they’ve had their ups and downs, and sometimes Dean feels guilty for dragging Sam all around the country in a van when this music thing wasn’t really his dream to begin with. Then Dad died, and Dean might’ve been drinking too much, and Cas almost quit when they were recording the first album, and it was touch and go there, for a while. It felt like Sam grew up too fast. He grew up before he was ready, always trying to be the responsible one, the peacekeeper, always working so hard to live up to what he thought Dean expected of him. 

Anyway. Anything that makes Sam smile like that is fine in Dean’s book.

He makes his way past the VIP checkpoint and into artist camping, and he spots Harry and Sam from a distance. They’re right where he left them, thank fuck, sprawled out on a blanket under some trees in a relatively private clearing near the parked tour bus. 

Sam’s sprawled, at least. He’s lying back with his head on Harry’s lap, and… oh dear god he’s wearing a flower crown. Dean stops dead in his tracks, blinks, and rubs his eyes, as if that might change what he’s seeing. No such luck. 

It’s not some fuckin’ Coachella fake flower bullshit, either. Sam’s got an honest-to-fuck daisy chain around his head, and as Dean gets closer, he realizes Harry’s currently braiding more flowers into Sam’s hair. There’s a fuckin’ piece of grass in there, too. A florist just moved in and set up shop on his head.

“Hey, Timberlake,” Dean barks, trying to make his voice come out stern instead of soft and embarrassingly fond. 

Harry looks up as Dean approaches and declares lazily, “If it isn’t my favorite Dean-Bean.” 

“Did you pop down to Rivendell while I was out? Who’s the elf queen?” Dean snarks, and Sam finally tilts his head to look at Dean and give him a floppy-armed sort of wave and a goofy grin. 

“Dean! You’re back!” he says, with way more excitement than Dean thinks his ninety-minute absence really warranted. “Check out this sunset!” 

Dean glances up, to where the sky is just beginning to turn vaguely peach-ish, and looks back down at Sam, who’s now holding his own hands up in front of his face and examining them with a seriously enraptured stare. 

Harry, meanwhile, is looking up at Dean with the world’s most innocent, dimpled, picture-perfect, squeaky-clean, teen-mag grin, the grin that means he’d probably be in a lot of trouble right now if he wasn’t Harry fuckin’ Styles. Dean raises an eyebrow. The kid bats his goddamn eyelashes, like butter wouldn’t melt in his goddamn mouth. 

“I wasn’t even gone for two fuckin’ hours,” Dean grumbles. He sits down on the blanket next to them and looks down resignedly at his brother’s spaced-out grin. “What’d you do to him? Mushrooms again?” 

“What do I look like, some sort of drug pusher?” Harry says mournfully, managing to look wounded for exactly two seconds. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, you look like a stray teenybopper wearing his grandma’s clothes.” 

The impish smile returns with a vengeance. “Just a bit of LSD. D’you want some?” 

Dean sighs and looks down at his little brother. “How ya doin’, Sammy?” 

“Pretty fucking fantastic, actually,” Sam says, and then dissolves into laughter for no apparent reason, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s thigh (the paisley velvet pants he’s wearing do look pretty soft, to be fair) like some overgrown cat. 

Harry’s already pulling a bit of tinfoil out of the pocket of his cardigan and unfolding it. 

“I dunno, he’s never done this before, what if…” Dean hedges. 

Sam flails upright, refolding his long limbs to sit cross-legged, and reaches out to grab one of Dean’s hands with both of his. 

“Dean,” he says, painfully earnest, eyes huge and pleading. “Please do this with me? I’m having so much fun, and I want you to have so much fun. With me. Us. Fun. You know? I just want you to see how amazing these trees are right now!” 

“If you think those trees are cool, just you wait til we find some music,” Harry says, leaning in conspiratorially, draping himself over Sam’s back and clinging like a drunken octopus, as he tends to do. “Don’t worry, Dean-Bean, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” 

The combined power of their dimples could probably melt steel beams, and that’s before you take into account the puppy-eyes. Dean just rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and Harry cackles with slightly alarming glee as he places a tiny square of cardstock on the tip of Dean’s tongue. 

“Down the rabbit hole, I guess,” Dean says, smiling in spite of himself at the childish joy on Sam’s face. 

“Right,” Harry says decisively. “Time to gear up and find some fun.” He scrambles to his feet, pulling Sam up after him, and Dean follows. 

They only make it a couple steps before Sam side-swipes him into a gigantic bear hug. Dean returns it bemusedly at first, but after a second he relaxes into it, giving Sam a squeeze. 

“I love you, Dean,” Sam mumbles, and he’s doing that sincere thing again when he pulls back, his expression open and honest in a way that Dean knows shouldn’t make him quite so uncomfortable. 

“You’re on drugs and there’s a fuckin’ shrubbery in your hair, it’s real hard to take you seriously right now,” Dean grumbles, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. “But… I love you too.” 

Sam laughs and slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders, and the two of them start quoting the Knights of Ni at each other as they walk unsteadily down the path. Dean doesn’t mind that they’re a few steps ahead of him. It gives him a second to wipe his eyes. 

It’s still new, this version of Sammy, the one who hugs Dean for no reason and says “I love you” without thinking twice. He’s just been happier, these last four months. 

Dean thinks he could get used to seeing his brother smile like that. 

.

.

More in this ‘verse over HERE! 

.

[cupcakemolotov]

Dragon Dust

I feel like a broken record, but I cannot look at this thing anymore. I started this... ages ago for @justanotherfiveminutes and ahahaha I have about 6K of it finished and its probably going to need at least one follow up at some point but whatever. SFW, as there is no porn here. Just dragons and magic and thief Caroline. And you know, Damon being a dick.

The ledge was cold and dangerously smooth beneath her bare toes, and Caroline pressed tightly against the wall behind her. Her boots bounced against her sternum, the laces tied around her neck, but she didn't dare lift a hand to hold them steady. She risked a peek down and swallowed hard as she took in the drop. If she squinted, she could almost make out the patrolling guards below her as individuals and not just moving torches, the faint chink of armor bouncing across the stone walls. The sound of heavy boots echoed against the unforgiving stone of the bridged walkway above her. 

She fervently wished the guards were her main concern. Blowing out a slow breath, Caroline winced as the breeze ruffled the edges of her clothing, the smell of a storm heavy in the air. She hoped the building storm continued to hold off, the sharp flashes of lightning vivid above the fog. Originally, she’d planned on using the storm to cover her tracks, but now the rain was a liability she couldn't afford. The magic that she'd used to carefully coax the razor thin ledge from the sheared stone walls around her wouldn't hold forever, and rain would turn stone into a slippery death.

Biting her lip tightly between her teeth, Caroline inched along the narrow ledge and tried not to think of falling. This wasn't her first escape out a window, this wasn't even her first creep across an impossible ledge. But having recently retired from her guild, she'd hoped to avoid dangling from unnecessary heights. 

Enzo would have laughed at her, if he’d been around for it. 

A faint ripple of a sound and Caroline went motionless, teeth clenched tightly together to keep them from chattering from the cold. The fog moved, and she caught the barest glimpse of wings before the patrolling beast melted back into the night. Fear was a cold knot in her stomach, and she stood unmoving in the hopes of calming her hammering pulse. If she was caught, a dragon was as likely to eat her as to question her, and she didn't have time for either.

Caroline was tempted to hate High Castle. 

Yesterday, she'd thought it beautiful.

The massive stone columns reaching into the sky were breathtaking and the perfect masonry gave the gleaming towers a false appearance of delicacy. Staring at the craftsmanship, you could almost forget the stone arches of the gate were over twenty feet tall, and why. Even the main courtyard was disproportionate to anything Caroline had known in her life, the wide space of dark stone scarred heavily by claws. High Castle's walls were carved out of the mountain itself, though the highest tower reached well above the mountain's stone peaks. Everything was massive, built on lines that no human would ever dream of creating. 

It had stirred something in her chest as she stared at the dragon's display of power. Terror? Fascination? Awe? Some mix of all three? She didn’t know. 

What she did know was that breaking into High Castle was the height of stupidity. Dragons might chose to walk on two legs, but they were hardly human. Unfortunately, she'd no actual choice in the matter. 

Not with Enzo's life on the line. 

In her pocket was a magical timer. It liked it unnecessary zap her every few hours to remind her that it was ticking down. Damon has worn such a delighted smile when he’d given it to her, the jerk. It was completely unnecessary, and it’d been years since she had been subject to anything similar. Usually guilds only used such things for new members or thieves who had failed too many missions to be trusted. Caroline and Enzo had been highly ranked guild members, and their price had reflected that.

Damon was sadistic and an ass. It was a terrible combination, and one day she’d make him eat his arrogance. As soon as she freed Enzo.

She just had to survive first. Determinedly, Caroline thought of all the ways she was going to make Enzo regret his lack of judgment as she inches across the wall. He’d let Damon Salvatore of all people get a drop on him. 

And over something as insubstantial as a myth. 

She had always thought Enzo’s dragon obsession was ridiculous, but it’d been a small flaw in what had otherwise been a reasonable person. Her best friend and business partner had an eye for a good deal. He was an excellent thief and she’d never once worried that he’d betray her. But she'd known the moment he walked in two years earlier, tossing a dragon scale from hand to hand, that something was different. 

"Oh, stop looking so put out, Gorgeous," Enzo said with a laugh as he set it on their table, sitting down with a thump. "These things are harmless." Caroline pursed her lips, staring at it with trepidation. "Nothing a dragon casts out into the world is harmless, Enzo. How did you even get that? Dragons are particular about their scales.”

Her friend shrugged. "This isn’t a real scale, not the way you’re thinking. No one really knows what they are, but there isn’t really any magic to them. They’re harmless. My mom had one for a bit, and it just sat around, a fascinating paper weight. Then one day, it disappeared." She stared at him dubiously. "It disappeared.  I thought you said it didn’t have any magic? Someone probably hawked it. Why didn't you hawk it?" "Can't sell 'em. A merchant with a fascination might give you a bolt of cloth or a pretty trinket, but no one gives them any real value because they don't stick around long. You can't collect them. Honestly, if they didn’t disappear on their own whim, no one would even think they’d once belonged to a dragon.”

Brows tucking together, she peered at the red heart of it. It seemed to flicker in the light, and she wondered if she touched it, if it would be warm. A tiny piece of something humans were fascinated and terrified by in equal turns. "Why'd you pick it up then?" "It's red. My last one was green." Enzo laughed at her annoyed noise and swiped it off the table. "Here, catch." Swearing as the flat, shimmering stone no bigger than her fist was tossed at her, she caught it before it could smack her in the face. Glaring as Enzo smirked at her, she yelped when it suddenly blazed in her hands. She dropped it back into the table, her palms and finger bones vibrating. For a moment, her skin seemed to glitter as if she plunged them into gold dust. Under her disbelieving gaze, the effect slowly faded, until she had to squint to see the lingering edges of it. 

Enzo had straightened, his face wiped clean of amusement. Shaking her hands over the table, she bit out her next sentence. "Is this some sort of joke? Because it's not funny." Enzo shook his head, reaching for the stone, rolling it between his hands for a long moment. "No, I didn't arrange that." "Then what is this?" Troubled eyes met hers, and Enzo shook his head. "I don't know." Her hands sometimes still glimmered faintly in the direct sunlight of the noon sun. She'd taken to wearing gloves, but somehow, Damon Salvatore had discovered her secret. 

And Damon wanted something badly from the dragons. And for some insane reason, he thought she could get it for him. And with Enzo’s life in the balance, she had no choice but to try. 

And now she was clinging to the side of High Castle and hoping she didn't splatter like a bug.

Shivering at another gust of wind, which was probably the downdraft of an unseen dragon, Caroline ignored her frozen toes and continued to inch along. All she had to do was get inside, steal a trinket, and get back out. She could do it. She’d stolen bigger, more dangerous things over the years, what was one more impossible mission?

The first, cold raindrop hit her nose and she tried to flatten even further against the wall. In another five feet she'd run out of ledge and either have to make a precarious drop or try to climb up to the battlements. Salvatore’s grasp of the defenses had been shy on the details, but Caroline imagined she’d probably find herself facing archers and more patrolling dragons. 

Not the King. She shuddered. He wasn't supposed to be in the castle. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the country. She'd never have risked stealing from the tower if she'd known that the King had returned from negotiations in the West. Niklaus, The Great Hoarder, Klaus to foe and friend alike, was known to take even the smallest of thefts in his castle personally. The debacle of a visiting ambassador getting a little light fingered with a scale or two a few decades ago was still talk of the mage circles. 

And what Klaus had done with the ambassador had featured prominently in those stories. Unlike Enzo’s pretty mementos, dragons were very careful about letting scales, teeth or bones out into the wild. Smart thieves knew to avoid dragon hoards. 

It’d only been dumb luck that she'd seen him and his entourage of guards before they’d seen her. There had been no mistaking the tumbled head of curls and the aura of impatient anger and power that followed him. She'd never seen him in person before, but many artists had taken great delight in recreating the stark lines of his face, his full lips. The hard angle of his jaw and slashed, angry tilt of his eyes.

But those sketches hadn’t prepared her for the impact of his face in person. The punch of it in her chest stole her breath. He’d ground to a halt in the middle of the corridor, gaze narrowed to burning slits of dragon magic, and her heart had leapt into her throat. For a single, terrible moment Caroline thought he’d sensed her presence. 

But that was impossible.

She’d activated no alarm. She wore no magic on her skin. There was nothing about her small, human presence that should have tipped him off to anything. There were a number of the castle staff who were human, a handful of rotating ambassadors who made a point to stay in his presence and an endless rotation of merchants hoping to trade.

Caroline was just one human girl among the many. 

But there had been no mistaking the tension in the hall, the heat of magic building as Klaus had all but glowed with a warning that had fisted in her chest. Just when she’d been terrified to so much as breathe, someone had called his name, words cutting through the air like a knife. She had taken the opportunity to all but flee out the nearest window. 

And now she was stuck with no easy way down and a storm building violently above her head. 

Shivering at another blast of cold air, Caroline pressed her hand flat against the wall and coaxed a little more distance out of her ledge. The longer she crept along the castle walls, the more it felt like a trap. What kind of trap, she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to find out. While every drop of magic used escalated the risk, it was still better than a fall to her death.

Five more steps to the right and she could reach a balcony. Maybe she could find a way to sneak out after that. Better to try again at stealing when the king had left than to rush and end up being turned into a Caroline-flambé.

As if her thoughts had summoned it, the quiet was broken by a clanging bell and Caroline's mouth ran dry. She didn't know the patterns that signified an alarm, but there was an urgency to the tolling that told her that whatever had happened in the castle, it was now on high alert. It was possible she wasn’t the only thief Salvatore had sent into the castle and she cursed at the thought.

Some idiot was going to get her killed.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she moved forward and tried to ignore the strain on her magic, cursing her luck. She needed to make it to the balcony and she needed to do it soon. Setting her teeth to stop them from chattering, she inched forward as quickly as she dared.

She was almost a foot from the prettily curving rail when the first fat raindrop splattered across her face. Hissing through clenched teeth, Caroline judged the distance as the rain started to fall in angry drops and then a deluge. The wind had changed too, harsh gusts mingling violently with the dragon backwinds to create wicked whips of water.

Praying to whatever gods might have been listening, she pressed her hands flat against the wall. She only had one way off the wall and her magic wouldn’t last forever. Heart hammering in her throat, Caroline leapt across the gap. 

She landed on her stomach, the thick stone of the railing driving the air from her lungs as she reflexively clung to anything she could reach. Her boots banged painfully against her chest, the heavy laces abrading the back of her neck as they dangled over the balcony. Her bare, half-frozen toes scrambled to find purchase on the rough stone and she finally managed to awkwardly shove her weight forward, tumbling onto the stone floor with several shuddering gasps. 

Not being dead hurt.

A sudden, violent peal of thunder had her rolling to her knees. Her ribs twinged, stomach aching, but she forced herself to get to her feet. Dying by lightning strike couldn’t hurt more but she’d made it this far, she needed to keep going. Shivering in earnest, she staggered towards the balcony doors. 

Praying that they weren’t locked, her fingers closed along the handle as a roar sounded through the bones of the castle, rattling her teeth in a way that had nothing to do with the storm. Choking on her next inhale at the sudden wash of dragon magic so potent her lungs froze in her chest. Her eyes stung. She’d never known hunting magic so strong, and Caroline stumbled into the door she was holding onto. It opened beneath her weight and she fell gracelessly into a heap. 

She didn’t have time to worry about her aching bones or if the room was occupied as the magic continued to bore down on the castle. Curling into a ball, she clumsily dug through the extra pocket she’d sewn into her pants for emergencies, fingers shaking. The feeling of being hunted, of magic searching, only intensified and she curled her fingers around her emergency spell. It activated beneath her palm and the force of it nearly left her blind. 

But it broke the terrible hold of the dragon magic.

Coughing as her lungs started to function again, Caroline heaved in several greedy gulps of air. A heartbeat, then two, and the roar that shook the castle this time left her whimpering low in her throat. The silence afterwards was loud and painful, and she lifted her head just long enough to confirm the room seemed to be unoccupied before awkwardly collapsing back onto the floor.

Pressing her face against what felt like a very nice rug, Caroline struggled to put her composure back together. The spell she’d just used bought her an hour or two, tops. A specialty of Enzo’s, one they’d taken great pains to hide, the don’t-look-at-me spell would hide her from any kind of hunting magic. Though it would do her little good if someone walked in on her gasping like a fish on the floor. She probably should have used it earlier and tried to escape with it, but it was a habit to use it only as a last resort. The ingredients were rare and expensive, and it took Enzo nearly a month to work the spell.

But whatever the dragons had unleashed…

Refusing to think about what might happen if they discovered her, Caroline forced herself to take several measured breaths. Once she was certain she wouldn’t hyperventilate, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position to take stock of where she was and what her options where. 

She almost immediately wished she hadn’t.

While the room was very faintly lit, from what she could see everything in it spoke of constrained opulence. The rugs beneath her, the impression of a giant bed, what looked like some couches in front of a fireplace. If she squinted, she could almost make out the shadowed walls and what might have been shelving.

And the smell. A mix of something a little like wood smoke and something like heat against stone mingled pleasantly. Caroline had never been close enough to a dragon to smell one before, but her stomach twisted in knots as she realized where she had landed. 

She was in a dragon’s bedroom. 

But what was even worse was the realization that in the faint, barely discernible light, her hands were shimmering. Lips parting on a sharp inhale, she curled her fingers tightly into her palms and cursed. The gold dust was at the brightest she’d ever seen it outside that first afternoon, and shock left her reeling. Staring at her golden skin, she set her teeth and waited for the glow to fade.

But the shimmer of it, utterly beautiful and completely terrifying, seemed determined to stick around this time. 

Biting her lip hard enough to sting, Caroline slapped at her pockets, searching frantically for the gloves she’d tucked away when she’d started climbing the walls. Right then, she was seriously regretting that her magic worked best if she could feel the stone with her bare hands. Had she somehow absorbed some of the magic in the walls? Whatever spell had marked her hadn’t been designated for thieves, because Enzo had come away without a mark. But she definitely wouldn’t be stealing anything tonight if her hands continue to shimmer.  

Cursing when she realized her gloves were missing, she scrambled back to her feet and winced as her laces dug into tender skin. Her boots were soaked, so there was no point in putting them back on just then. Tugging them over her head, she tied the laces to her belt, situating her boots so they’d lay against her thighs. 

Outside, the wind howled and she shivered reflexively. The room was balmy, protecting her from the worst of the cold, but she was soaked through. Unfortunately, she’d have to worry about her clothing once she found a way out of the room and a better place to hide. Squaring her shoulders, Caroline listened to the utter silence for several long moments before she picked a direction and tried to locate a door. Relief was heady as she immediately found one.

It’d probably be a closet or bathroom, but at least she’d eventually find a door out. There was no way a dragon was using the balcony as the only entry and exit to the top. She needed to get out of this bedroom before the dragon came back, and after that, the castle. And she needed to do it before the storm broke and dawn lit up the sky. 

She’d just have to figure out another way to rescue Enzo. Stealing from the dragons tonight when the King was home was a really bad idea. Reaching for the door handle, she cursed when it rattled under her hand but didn’t budge. Locked. 

Warily looking around the cavern of a room, Caroline forcibly told herself that the door probably led to some sort of secret stash and it made sense that it was locked. Refusing to panic, she crept along the wall until she found another door. And then another. And then back again to the first. But no matter what handle she picked, none of them would budge. In the dull light of the room she couldn’t find so much as a keyhole to try to pick. And using any more magic inside the castle was a terrible idea. Maybe she could find something and take the hinges on the door apart…

But the doors seemed to be crafted out some sort of stone stone and there while there were seams, she couldn’t find a hinge. Just to be sure, Caroline crossed the room again and tried the balcony doors and found they’d sealed shut. 

She was trapped.

Forcibly swallowing down her rising panic, Caroline decided the only thing she could do was wait. She had some time before Enzo’s spell wore off. Hopefully by then whatever hunting magic had been set loose would have dissipated. That would give her time to think as long as the owner of the bedroom stayed gone. 

But first, she was going to need a hiding place.

Once she managed that, she could give herself a few moments to quietly freak out and then come up with another plan. Hopefully one that would work this time.

-

A loud banging noise jolted her awake. Eyes snapping open, Caroline was horrified to realize that she’d dozed off. The cozy warmth of the room and the strain of using so much magic had clearly worked against her. Outside the storm still beat against the castle with noisy abandonment, and her internal clock said she couldn’t have slept for more than an hour. Wiggling in the corner she’d jammed herself into, she winced as her limbs stiffly protested the motion. Squinting, Caroline tried to figure out where the noise that had woken her had come from. 

She didn’t have to wait long. 

One of the doors she’d been unable to budge had slammed open and overhead lights now flared into life illuminating a room that was definitely opulent and absolutely not restrained in showing it off. Shelves and tables gleamed with priceless treasures, silks and paintings decorated the walls, but it was the man who stalked through the door that caught and held her attention. She froze, muscles locking in place as she stared at the Dragon King pacing in constrained rage in his bedroom. 

He paused in the middle of the room, hands curled into fists as he exhaled harshly. His head tipped back, every line of him vibrating with barely constrained power and shock left her mouth bone dry. She couldn’t be in his room. 

The King’s tower was nowhere near the part of the castle she’d been climbing. She’d hadn’t even come close to breaching the third level of the castle, much less the upper ramparts. How had she ended up in his room? Panic jumbled her thoughts even as she automatically took stock of his appearance, looking for any kind of weakness. 

He definitely wasn’t difficult to look at.

For a dragon, he wasn’t as tall as she would have expected, and the long lines of him were deceptively lean. His hair was a fascinating, riotous mess. His full mouth was set into a hard line and her eyes lingered without her permission somewhere around the length of his throat, teeth sinking harshly into her lip. If she hadn’t been so worried that he’d tear out her throat if he found her, she’d have found him gorgeous. 

But then he moved and she realized the sheen on his shirt was blood. A lot of it. Pressing her hand firmly against her mouth, she nearly choked on her next breath as he pulled the ruined clothing over his head. Eyes wide, she stared at the hard planes of his abdomen and the smooth muscles along his chest, nails digging harshly into her thigh to keep from doing something stupid. 

Like trying to touch him. 

The inexplicable need of it was vibrating in her bones. She’d never heard of this particular reaction to dragon magic but maybe they just didn’t speak it outside proper mage circles. There was no good or sane reason for her to want to touch him so badly her hands trembled with need. Tucking her fingers firmly between her thighs, Caroline tried not to fidget as she waited him out.

Her pulse kicked in her chest when he muttered something pithy, the shift of his face so inexplicably lonely that she couldn’t help but wonder what could leave him with such an expression. Teeth scraping her lip, she froze when his brows sudden came together and he suddenly scanned the room with eyes gone pale gold with power. As if he sensed her. He perused the room slowly, something about her presence clearly nudged at his attention. 

Caroline held her breath. You can’t see me. You can’t see me. The chat was repeated over and over, nails digging into her thigh.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he moved towards a different door and pulled it open, disappearing inside. Very, very carefully, Caroline let out a shaky breath.

Fingers trembling with lingering adrenaline, she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly, working to calm her racing heart. The soft hum of water moving against stone told her that he was cleaning up after what might have been a bout of torture. He’d definitely, probably, killed someone. 

She didn’t have the time to worry about that just then. She needed to think. Looking around now that there were lights, she shifted carefully to stare at the wall that had once been a balcony. Now there were a series of tall, impossible windows that showed how heavily the rainfall lashed at the castle. 

There was no way she’d hallucinated the balcony earlier, not when she’d fallen into it hard enough that her stomach muscles were bruised.  That meant magic. Every Guild knew the rumors that High Castle was inescapable. Many a thief had disappeared in its walls, never to return. Most of her guild wrote off those disappearances as dragon paranoia and their magical defenses. Enzo, however, was from a different part of the world and had other theories. He came from a place further east and closer to dragon territory than she’d lived most of her life, and he spoke of dragon magic as if it were sentient. 

It sucked that she was starting to think he was right. It sounded insane, but if the castle walls had moved that made escaping a lot more complicated. In her pocket, the spell timer pulsed in warning. 

Mentally promising herself that she was going to make Damon regret this idea, she forced herself to take even breaths. Glancing around the room again, her brain finally made the connection that if the dragon had walked through the door there was a chance it was still unlocked. Pushing to her feet with a wince as her bones creaked, Caroline warily glanced at the open bathroom door. She was a thief. A good one. She could make it across the room. She could even do it quietly.

Carefully, on whisper-soft feet, she inched her way across the open space. The carpet absorbed her footsteps, and there was no indication that the dragon sensed her presence. Sending a short prayer to whatever of her gods were listening, she crept closer to the door. 

Five feet from the door, Enzo’s magic failed. The sound of it crackled around her, an egg shell breaking in half. The noise was a built in warning, and it should have only been heard by her. But she stood still for several heartbeats anyway, waiting to see if the dragon had been alerted to her presence now that she was no longer under magical cover. When silence held, heart hammering in her throat, she took a single, careful step. 

A roar shook the room.

Bolting, Caroline made for the open door. 

If she could get outside of this room she’d have a much better chance of escaping. She was half a foot away when it slammed shut in front of her. Twisting hard, she threw herself to the side as something blurred in her peripheral vision. The impression of heat, of something large and angry, had her heart jolting into her throat. Scrambling for one of the windows, her mind frantically searching for, and then discarding plans as fast as she could think of them, she yelped when she was suddenly jerked backwards by her cloak. 

Her teeth clacked together as she fell to the floor, breath forced painfully from her lungs as her boots slammed into her ribs and for a moment the world was a confusing tangle of cloth, pain and slick, fever warm skin. Scrambling for a foothold, a grip, an angle for a knee, Caroline used every dirty trick she could think of to throw the dragon off of her. Nothing she tried drew more than a grunt as she struggled blindly beneath him. Her cloak blocked her vision as she struggled, and twisted sharply, forehead smacking into what felt like a stone wall. The dragon cursed above her and she groaned in pain, temple throbbing as her cloak was yanked away from her face. 

Caroline blinked the stars from her eyes, trying to make sense of the impression of tangled curls and damp, pale skin, the tight, angry line of his jaw. The dragon’s eyes were blue and ringed in gold, the stupidly gorgeous planes of his face and generous lips far too close to her face.

“A second thief. How unfortunate for you.” He growled, words bitten off as the weight of him pinned her to the floor. “How exactly did you find yourself in my room?”

She had not expected the sharp, biting edge of his accent and bit down sharply on the side of her tongue to keep from answering the snarled question. Nothing she could say here would be believed, and it was better to say nothing and escape later than accidentally give something important away, like her name. His lips curled, teeth white in the low light, and her stomach jumped. 

“It takes a talented thief indeed to make it this far into my castle, human, but I’m not feeling particularly forgiving tonight. Tell me who sent you.” His head tipped, eyes glittering. “Unless you’d prefer the same treatment as your companion?”

Rage and frustration knotted in her chest. So Damon has been enough of a fool to send in another thief and it was going to cost her. Her chances of slipping in and out of the castle unnoticed had been ruined before she’d even begun. Temper made her reckless, and she bared her teeth as the air heated with magic. 

“No.”

“No?” His lashes narrowed, blue fading rapidly into pale gold. “Clever then, but not particularly bright. You’ll live longer, if you answer my questions.”

This time Caroline managed to stubbornly hold her tongue. It was the height of stupidity to match wills against the dragon king, naked or not, particularly with his temper written clearly across his face, but the fear she should have felt wouldn’t come. The angry, rumbling noise he made in his chest startled her more than terrified, and he sat up and stood with a smooth motion of slick muscle that was far more distracting that it should have been. Her eyes jerked up to his face and her cheeks flamed as she tried not to stare at the eyeful he seemed so unconcerned with offering. 

“Well,” his smile was bladed, the dimples dangerous. “Let’s see if some time in the dungeons will loosen your tongue, hmm? Your friend is proving to be quite… resilient. We shall have to see if you are just as stubborn.”

Caroline yelped embarrassingly when he fisted his hand in her shift and yanked her off the floor. Her hands scrambled against his on reflex as he shifted his weight to drag her out of the room, she cursed he came to a halt and her momentum left her crashing into the full length of him. Jerking back, she glared and dug her nails into his skin. Any curses she might have tossed at him died as her eyes returned to his face, and her stomach flipped when she realized his gaze was locked on her hands and the shimmer of magic across her fingers. 

For a moment her heart lodged in her throat and it was impossible to breathe. Dragging in air, she dug her nails in harder. “You..”

The sound of her voice brought his gaze back to hers with an intensity that froze her tongue. The gold of his dragon had fully bled into his eyes, and the sudden influx of magic in the room was warm and rough, but so welcoming her heart pounded loudly in her ears. The hold on her shirt eased, and for a long moment they stared at each other, something wonderful and terrible hovering between them. His lips parted, a flash of wild and coveting want flickering through his eyes, when the spelled alarm on her hip buzzed in warning. 

Enzo. 

His gaze narrowed, eyes dropping to her hip. “What…”

Caroline didn’t give him a chance to ask the question, taking advantage of his loosened hold on her to grip his wrist tightly and yank him off balance. He swore, but without her cloak to trap her, she was able to use his surprise against him and take out his legs. She barely managed to dodge his attempt to grab her as he went down, lunging past him towards the door. Desperation gave her speed, and testing the door one more time, to her shock it sprung open beneath her hands. Acting on instinct borne from a thousand heists, she grabbed what remained of her magic and slammed the stone door behind her. 

She couldn’t open doors like this easily, but she could lock them. Slapping her hand into the stone, Caroline shoved all the magic she had left into it, yanking the stone wall into the door to act as a crude lock. The full weight of the dragon she’d barely escaped slammed into it, and the lock cracked.  It wouldn’t hold it long. But she didn’t need long. Spinning on her heel, Caroline headed for her stairs, and took them at top speed. 

Behind her, the Dragon King roared and the castle shook with the force of it. In the distance, she could hear the clang of alarm bells but she didn’t slow. At her hip, the alarm stung in warning before going silent.

Damon was an ass and she was going to make him regret his extremely stupid life choices. To do that, she needed get out of the castle before the guards decided to torture her. But first, she needed to steal something.

And to that, she needed to take a small detour. 

Above her, the sounds of a door being smashed wide open echoed through the stairwell. Sliding through an opening door, she glanced down the hallway and took off running in the first open direction she found. Before she could steal, she needed to put some distance between her and the rampaging dragon behind her. 

Enzo was going to owe her so big. 

[arthurrosj548]

The Ultimate Guide to grandsoccertips.com

Free football Tips

Sevilla returned to profitable methods towards Real Betis on the weekend and now face an Elche facet that have lost their final five away games, failing to attain in 4 of their last nine away video games. Bayern Munich have scored 22 targets in their seven Champions League games this season and hammered Lazio four-1 in the first leg. The Bavarians have scored no less than three objectives in every of their final four games. Blackburn are winless in their final five house games and have lost seven of their final ten, while Bristol City are on a 3 match successful streak away from house. Championship leaders Norwich have won their final eight video games and have one of the best away document within the league, profitable 12 of their 18 trips so far this season. IIt’s not only faculty soccer we have experts in, we also have school basketball picks including March Madness.

In some cases, you may want extra perception into what’s going on within the game in the meanwhile. We provide this betting evaluation in our Football Betting Predictions for that purpose. Bielefeld have lost three and drawn 1 of their last 4 league games.

You might have been a supporter for years, but your love for the team is not going to make them play any higher or improve their probabilities when playing Liverpool or Man City away. Picking the best bet is about using your head not your heart. With 22 players, plus substitutes, plus a whole range of backroom employees influencing the end result of every game, there's a lot of analysis to be accomplished if you are to make an knowledgeable wager. This is where professional evaluation actually comes into its own. Chelsea solely sit one place and one point above visiting Everton, however the Londoners have not misplaced at residence to the Toffees since a 2011 penalty shootout within the FA Cup.

There are endless methods to bet on football matches other than a simple prediction of who will win. The extra you perceive about the game, and concerning the teams concerned, the more markets will speak in confidence to you, which is where oddschecker’s free football betting ideas can help. These football bets are created by the FA group and embody soccer ideas for the most important video games in the entire top leagues & tournaments in the world. However, we don’t restrict ourselves to just the highest leagues, we analyse the smaller ones so as to ensure we’re bringing you the best football betting tips potential. If you want regular, dependable, proven soccer predictions at present, oddschecker is the place to head.

The hosts head into this recreation on the again of four wins from their last four matches, three of which they've scored exactly 4 objectives in. Man Utd have won five of their final six encounters with AC Milan and each groups have scored in four of those matches. Man Utd have picked up three wins and three draws from their last six outings, bringing an finish to Man City's long successful streak final outing. Both teams have scored in 4 of AC Milan's final six fixtures and the visitors have only won twice throughout that period. Lyon beat PSG 1-0 when the two sides collided in December and this time, they have the home benefit. Both groups are level on 60pts in Ligue 1 and Lyon have secred three wins and two attracts from their last 5 fixtures.

Our day by day football tips are put collectively by our skilled group utilizing the previous match statics in addition to the current group news and kind. This means there are absolutely no half measures on the soccer betting ideas we suggest. Want to kick off your weekend with a Premier League winner? Searching for some midweek worth within the domestic and European leagues? Looking for the latest insight for the Nations League, Euros or the World Cup qualifiers?

See all Both teams to attain predictions for football video games. Btts ideas and stats primarily based on last teams games performances. Alongside the same old ideas and predictions, you’ll also get to take your pick of the most effective football betting provides every single day. We have those new buyer presents rolled out for you every time they’re out there alongside In Play presents, all buyer price boosts and plenty extra from the likes of bet365 and Betbull. Next to our soccer predictions we offer every day tips on our bet of the day web page which is well-liked amongst our visitors. All of the football betting suggestions that you just’ll discover on Footy Accumulators are a hundred% free.

This sort of wagering permits you to resolve uponon your bets depending on the unfolding motion, whether that’s a cup ultimate between two European giants or a tussle on the bottom of the desk in one of the lower leagues. For our tips, it’s difficult to submit them on web site because of the timing of matches, however you'll be able to comply with us on Twitter for the most effective stay tweets, stats, reactions and most importantly In Play suggestions as the fixtures unfold. During summer time when common soccer leagues are in a break we keep offering football ideas and predictions.

Three of the last four conferences between these two golf equipment have produced under 2.5 targets and we're predicting one other carefully fought ninety-minutes on Sunday. Under 2.5 objectives have additionally been produced in every of Man Utd's final six outings in all competitions. You can again Sassuolo to win & BTTS @ 15/four (4.75) with bet365. As you'd count on we provide in-depth betting advice for the main racing festivals and races such as the Cheltenham Festival and Grand National. You’ll discover a lot of help with the way to bet on football in our posts and of course you possibly can all the time ask questions in the feedback part in case you have any questions. You should also create a twitter account when you do not have already got one, and begin to comply with some key accounts, together with official football staff accounts where as much as the minute group information shall be posted.

The most effective ‘betting formulation’ is to put money into your knowledge as that is also the best way of enhancing your chances of winning. Football Predictions will help you increase your betting capability by offering numerous betting methods and guides where you're certain to search out some helpful methods of the commerce that can assist you polish your betting tactics. Have no worries, as your betting companion we are right here to information you want a guru and offer you knowledge that you can really apply in order to make some revenue alongside the way.

21 Soccer Ideas

Where you really see the distinction is over the long term. One particular person it is all the time necessary to listen to is your coach. They spend their week thinking about how each player can improve, how the staff can carry out better and dealing on achieving this. There are numerous choices that your targets could possibly be. Maybe it’s to score extra consistently or maybe its to be more assured at heading the ball. To see a fast enchancment in your recreation take the time outdoors of game time to work in your expertise and fitness.

It is very important that each time you'll method to the opponent you do it with confidence, security, and conviction. In this way, you impose your presence as a defender in the subject and they'll assume it twice earlier than trying to get previous over you. All defenders need to make the attackers feel their presence. You must be sure that each time they are going to get the ball, they know you'll be right next to them. When doubtful, maintain it simple and kick the ball out to a nook, sideline or to your forwards!

If you wish to go deeper examine our Free Betting Prediction all soccer matches part the place you can find all our betting predictions. Use our LiveScores for extra info, H2H statistics, group kind, standings and so on. To view all of our ideas for tomorrow's video games, go to predictions tomorrow. WinDrawWin is one of the best supply of free soccer betting tips and football predictions and betting statistics, soccer outcomes, soccer statistics and tendencies. Browse these free soccer predictions for at present and the weekend. Football match previews include statistics, betting odds markets & the most recent bookieoffers.

It takes an knowledgeable opinion or educated guess regarding the result of a specified sport of soccer to type each individual prediction. At oddschecker we offer a variety of betting recommendations on the extensive choice of betting events we cowl each day. All of our tips are free for you, the person, and we aim to provide you with the most effective research and stats to higher inform you when choosing a guess on your chosen match/occasion. This feature will enable you to generate a betting ticket in your bet slip. You can also choose between a variety of two and sixteen matches with soccer betting suggestions. Just generate a ticket with our betting tips and replica it under your bookmakers wager slip.

The worse thing that a defender can do is being “fancy” back there. When in doubt, just kick the ball out, and let all that artistic stuff to the attackers. The scenario in the picture above is something you need to totally avoid.

As mentioned in the final tip, positioning is important as it gives players that additional bit of time on the ball. But with a great first touch you can take the ball beyond the incoming tackle and open up space. By hovering between the central defenders or the gaps that emerge between them and the fullbacks, you can simply create confusion as to who is supposed to be marking you.

The stakes are higher, the lines are sharper and the betting handles are higher. Without further ado, listed here are a few suggestions to keep in mind as you wager on the insanity. To do this, a mix of algorithmic and human components are thought of. For an upcoming recreation let's say that a prediction was made by utilizing a heavy check here weighting on the last six results for both groups. It's one thing that many mathematical suggestions sites use as certainly one of their main factors.

A Novices Information To Betting On Soccer 2021

You have a way to redeem your self on the online sportsbooks as a result of they submit odds at halftime on the sides and the totals. This can be a second probability, nevertheless it may also be a method to hedge your authentic bet. If you go this route, the team that you just choose has to win the game outright, and the rating doesn’t matter.

In an effort to make baseball and hockey more interesting to point spread bettors, the sportsbook operators provide run and puck lines, respectively. Betting on the NFL remains by far the leading single driver of sportsbook enterprise. It's no shock that America's hunger for the newest and best NFLpoint spreadscontinues to develop, together with soccer damage updates and matchup data to help them win more bets, and ultimately more cash. While there are lots of high NFL betting sites on-line, we believe Bovada to be the most effective web site to bet on NFL video games. Having stated that, each online sportsbook is totally different and presents their own distinctive incentives. Bovada, nonetheless, has fast withdrawals, exclusive bonuses on certain deposit options, in addition to a bunch of special promotions.

The 2nd half line accounts for what happened in the first half to help determine how the rest of the game will play out. Now that you understand the basics of NFL spread betting you’ll wish to take a look at ourSports Betting Strategyguide which has some great NFL strategy articles written by a professional bettor. Here you can see that the Rams are +three.5, while the Cowboys are -3.5. So for this instance the Cowboys are three.5 level favorites, whereas the Rams are underdogs of three.5 points.

The data discovered on Gamblingsites.org is for leisure purposes only. It is a purely informational web site that doesn't settle for wagers of any sort. Gamblingsites.org makes use of associates links from a number of the sportsbooks/casinos it promotes and reviews, and we might obtain compensation from those specific sportsbooks/casinos in certain circumstances. Gamblingsites.org does not promote or endorse any form of wagering or playing to customers beneath the age of 18.

Online NFL prop wagers aren't offered for every sport every Sunday; they're usually limited to video games that are the only focus inside a time slot, like Sunday and Monday night time frays. A proposition wager, or prop, is a bet on a selected focused side of a recreation or the individual performance of a player. You might even see a prop on the over/under on total area goals made by each teams in a contest, the entire interceptions thrown, or whether or not there will be a particular groups touchdown scored. Live NFL betting is another choice that involves inserting wagers after the sport has started, however they are often posted at any time during the sport. This lets you make subtle wagers primarily based on your analysis of what you could have seen on the field, and it’s one other sort of wager that can be utilized to hedge.

This provides you the power to run by way of a bunch of different prospects before you place your guess. Our presents change frequently, so you can at all times ensure there’ll be one thing to make the weekend’s fixtures a little spicier. Register for free and make your predictions forward of the subsequent massive recreation. We have all the latest motion from the English Premier League and the excitement of European soccer, from ‘El Clasico’ to the Belarusian league. lots of them supply extra rewards to current clients too.

This would imply in order for a wager on the favored group on the spread to win they would need to win by more than 6.5 points in order to win the wager. It additionally implies that a guess on the underdog team would win if the underdogs lost by lower than 6.5 factors or received the game outright. Major League Soccer the top soccer league within the United States and Canada has expressed sports betting as a attainable approach to gain reputation.

Free Tennis tips

Below we are able to see an example of set handicap odds listed at Paddy Power for an upcoming match between Caroline Wozniacki and Svetlana Kuznetsova. Set winner betting works the identical as match winner betting, besides that somewhat than betting on the result of a whole match, you might be only betting on the result of an individual set. In this example, we will see that Nadal is at very brief odds to win the opening set of the match.

The grass floor favours some gamers while different players have types appropriate for clay or onerous court docket. Clay is the slowest of the ATP surfaces and hard courtroom is considered the center floor. Take these components into consideration when putting bets and which surfaces favour a specific gamers type. Likewise, it is essential to keep in mind previous matches between the 2 gamers. Some gamers might be thought of of lesser expertise within the event, but typically they have a enjoying fashion that troubles gamers that others contemplate to be of far higher capability.

Thus, while Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer have often entered the French Open ranked #1 on the earth, Nadal has typically been the overwhelming favourite in the tournament. The handicapping, sports odds information contained on this web site is for leisure purposes solely. Please confirm the wagering regulations in your jurisdiction as they range from state to state, province to province and country to nation.

Tennis futures bets may be very entertaining as a result of you'll be able to observe a participant through the match or the year. Continuing with the Medvedev vs Djokovic instance, the total is set at forty.5 video games. If you suppose it is going to be a protracted, drawn-out match, guess on over. If you assume one participant will dominate and that the match will be over rapidly, ideally leading to a straight units win, guess on beneath. All you care about with these bets is the entire video games performed in the match.

PointsBet has listed 42 totally different outcomes on the ladies’s side versus 27 different outcomes on the boys’s. Remember, we are attempting to predict who may win the Australian Open in 2021. At the time of writing, this sportsbook thinks there are significantly fewer males who stand an opportunity of profitable than girls. It is simply much harder to beat the best gamers in a five-set format. The men’s and ladies’s draws are played concurrently at the Grand Slams and 4 different premier mandatory tournaments each year, with equal prize money supplied to each genders. The males’s Association of Tennis Professionals Tour and the Women’s Tennis Association Tour play most different tournaments separately and for different amounts of prize cash, with a couple of exceptions.

Tennis Consultants Predictions And Every Day Free Betting Tips

This is a tip for the players which are both playing tournaments or wish to bounce into the competitive aspect of things. Whether you are a superstitious player like Nadal or a cool and calm participant like Federer, make your self snug on the tennis courtroom. If you're at any stage of your tennis journey, whether or not you are a beginner, intermediate and even advanced, I actually have compiled an inventory of 20 tips which is able to surely take your recreation to the next stage. For all of the advanced players out there who assume the following tips may simply be too fundamental, I advise you to learn by way of the article.

Make sure you allow them to know the shoes are for taking part in actual tennis. This easy tennis tip will allow you to get your shots precisely the place you need them. If their shots appear to fall in the midst of the court docket as an alternative of the baseline…hang on the market as an alternative. You will need to know how to change your serves and strokes on a windy day when compared to taking part in in stillness. Be ready by taking part in on a lot of completely different courts and in all types of climate.

The spin will hold the ball in the service box, whereas making it more difficult to return. three.When running to a ball from one nook to the opposite, take a couple of large strides giant at first, after which switch to smaller steps as you get into place to hit the ball. Those faster, smaller steps will allow you to stay balanced and let you make needed adjustments for dangerous bounces, wind, etc. Visit Tennis to study more about tennis applications, coaches and the Tennis Centre at North Vancouver Recreation and Culture. If there's a doubt about court net dividers remaining open or closed, the desire is given to teams who want to hold the nets closed. Even should you’re on the way to accessing your courtroom, please don’t discuss in your telephone or keep on loud conversations.

Because it's so enjoyable to play, teammates have a great time with one another and the relationships amongst them get stronger and stronger. It is fundamental that staff members have nice hyperlinks and chemistry among each other. I think that the best way to tell if the court has the correct size is to play some video games and look should you feel comfy with the scale. The return of serve is a troublesome shot except your opponent has a very bad serve. The

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My biggest pro-tip: Fiction is NEVER Reality.

If I could give one and only one pro-tip for writing that so very many people, including people who are otherwise excellent storytellers, just don’t get it’s to remember that Fiction is NEVER Reality.

I have never seen so consistent a sign of a piece of fiction that isn’t going to work as the claims, “But that’s how it really happened,” or, “But that’s how it would really happen.”

To the point that the one few times back in grad school where I was writing something BASED on a real event, and people really wanted to know where I got such a compelling moment I was extremely reluctant to share. And the second I did, my lecturer turned on me, warning me that real events usually don’t work and usually aren’t the best way to do the action in a story even when they do work. And I was like, yeah, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.

Which should not be mistaken for a contradiction.

I am not saying this belief that Fiction is NEVER Reality is something imposed on me by my teachers. I got to this one on my own. Though I think there was plenty of implication from my teachers that such a thing was the case, that lecturer was actually the first teacher I ever had to specifically say that clearly tome. I will eternally maintain that whatever works in specific, works. That trumps any general truth about writing. Same the other way around. You can follow the “rules” to the letter and still get crap because they don’t work for your specific piece. Every writing “rule” that may exist, exists for a reason. So long as you fulfill that reasoning, you don’t have to follow the “rules.” So long as the reasons for that “rule” don’t apply to your specific piece, it will hurt the piece to apply it. And, that’s the same thing as Fiction is NEVER Reality.

I can successfully write “real” events, well enough to get a bunch of very excellent writers, including my lecturer who wrote a lot for the BBC, very excited because I get that SEEMING real and BEING real are different. SEEMING real is the goal. BEING real tends to kill the seeming of reality. Because a rule in the real world is a rule. Drop a ball and it will accelerate toward the surface of the Earth at 9.8 meters per second squared. That is reality. Not every choice makes sense. The inexplicable happens every day. People just lie because... who knows... they’re liars. The world doesn’t make sense except in a very local or very abstract or very scientific way. And that’s fundamentally not what a story is.

A story’s job is to convince you it is real. But we’re used to living in that extreme local or deep abstract. Which means all the middle world incomprehensibility just doesn’t land right with most people. So, following the rules that are real rules, that things just happen, that is wide and incomprehensible, shuts people down the same as if you try to tell them really weird stuff in real life. A story SEEMS real by limiting itself to that personal level, even - or most especially - when it is not being written about that personal level.

Pardon me while I sidestep into my philosophy of art for a brief moment, it is applicable. There are a lot of opinions about art, how art works, and what art does. And I should be clear that my opinion is NOT the majority opinion.

The philosophy that i am an adherent to, and all the above is a recursive part of why, is that art happens as an act of communication between Artist and Audience, with the Medium of the Art as a conduit between. For writing in specific, that means my philosophy is that ART is the act of me, the Primary Author, taking an image I have in my head and giving you, the Reader, the basics of that story through the Medium of a Book, so that you, as a Secondary Author can build the full story up in your own head. I don’t have the totality of the Art. You don’t have the totality of the Art. The Book is simply the container for us to pass the communication between us. The Art only exists in that communication and interplay between us. It requires all three parts. Otherwise it doesn’t occur. I can make up a million stories in my head, I do, and if I don’t tell them to you, I don’t believe that is Art, I believe that is play. And the same for you. It has to pass between two people or more, allowing room for interpretation to be Art.

Which I mention because it informs why the personal point of view reigns supreme for story. Because in order for a story to occur, it has to get inside a person’s head and operate there. The Audience can only interact, truly, with a piece of Art as it sits inside their own understanding. So as you step away from a PERSONAL level of understanding on the part of the audience, you are stepping away from what they will believe, understand, and care about. We, as writers, are always limited by an “I” that we cannot control. Just manipulate.

To some degree, it is our job as writers to build the scaffolding for the readers to climb out of that “I” into a new and wider world. That is inevitable. But the basic logic of that as the beginning is inescapable. Everything starts as “I.” That’s why first person is so powerful and so natural as a starting place for new writers. Because it plays to that “I.” “I” am reading about a person A, who has to do B, but C is in the way. And while things will build to a richness where it will appear that A, B, and C will exist beyond their life in the book, that “I” will never absent itself. Which is why readers get mad when authors do things with characters and their world that don’t fit with the conceptions and rules that “I” have built up. Because we, in our personal lives maintain a structure of personal order. Violate that structure and “I” will rebel.

The real world violates it constantly. CONSTANTLY. There is no escape. We never know for sure what the other people in our lives will do. We never know precisely what the weather will do. There’s not a hope in hell of knowing what our leadership, far away, and foreign nations will do. But we hate that. We have to live with it but we hate it. So, we invent a narrative. We create for ourselves a line of reasoning to explain the unreasonable. Our parents yelled at us even though we didn’t do anything because they had a rough day at work. You know, that Allison is always giving them a hard time. “I” bet that was it. “I” bet Allison really laid into my parent and threatened to fire them for not getting the Bulletin Board Project done and even threatened to fire them, when all they really wanted was to get in, get it over with, and get us all to Carrow Beach for a relaxing weekend but now they have to work instead and they feel bad and then feel guilty and “I” am not helping so “I” better help and maybe if “I” can get some dinner on the table they would have more time and energy. Etc.

We’re playing with that as writers. Everything happens, eventually, for a reason. Everything, eventually, has a clear architecture of order - though it is usually emotional rather than factual. Because if a writer builds toward that SEEMING of reality, we can rely on the reader to take it and run with it and build out from that logic because that’s what they would do anyway. Try to make it literally real and you’re fighting against the architecture you’re trying to use. It’s like trying to make boat out of building. You might be able to. But it’s not taking advantage of how things are.

So whenever you are trying to deal with REAL. Think about it from the point of view of “I”. Not what really happened but what “I” would come around to telling “myself” happened. You are recreating the MODEL of the real world you carry around in your brain, well enough that someone else can use that model to reconstruct that interpreted world.

This is my biggest number one thing because it is the only thing that dictates how everything else works. Why does a story have to be interesting? Because “I” don’t have the patience to read boring things. If “I” don’t care, “I” won’t read. Why does a story have to be clear? Because “I” am not directly experiencing any of it, there is no real world for “me” to see, just the model that has been given to “me.” The only way “I” know what is happening is if “I” am shown it. Why doesn’t the 100% Real world look like the world as “I” experience it? Because we all live in the matrix, we’re a brain in a walking, talking, feeling jar, and neither brain in the jar nor jar that is the body experiences anything without talking to each other and every bit of communication allows for miscommunication. So the world of every “I” is slightly different. So the most important, fundamental bits of a story have to be built. WHY something happens. WHO someone is. HOW they go about getting what they want. These things have to work internally to the story.

You can’t make something more REAL. What real? Whose real? Instead you make things seem more real by focusing on the emotional logic of an “I.” I am disenchanted with the world, so my fictional world becomes more gray to communicate my disaffection. I am frightened, so descriptions become more ominous to communicate my discomfort. I am happy so the party I am writing about is a description of joy safe in the harbor before the storm that is coming. A stalker doesn’t jump from the sidewalk to the second floor balcony (the first ‘but it really happened’ I ever heard) instead they are just there in the apartment to communicate the terror of that, someone in the room, where there shouldn’t be anyone, and when they flee out the window and you’re frozen in fear a full beat after they’ve disappeared, heart hammering, because you know, you KNOW, they’re still there, it’s two stories up, but you make yourself grab your keys in your fist and shuffle to the fluttering shades, wishing you could hold the noise of your shoes on the carpet like you’re holding your breath, and rip them back, taking two blind punches to try and drive him back, keep him from touching your skin, grabbing your wrist in a death lock, and then... you don’t know what and you don’t want to know so you punch like somehow God will guide the keys into his eyes, but the balcony is empty, you’re punching empty air, there’s no one at all, nothing you can see, like a ghost, who doesn’t care at all that there was nowhere to go, that you can’t vanish into nothing, that the door was locked, that there is such a thing as walls to keep you safe.

There’s nothing REAL about that. But that’s an “I” thinking, experiencing, an architecture is there: that the stalker is a monster and will obey monster rules. Later, yes, there can be an explanation about how he is a champion ex pole vaulter and literally can leap up and down from the ground to the second story. But by the time we learn that, those are just facts defining the monster’s powers. We already know HOW he did it: he’s a monster. It doesn’t matter that it is literary fiction and there are no fantasy or science fiction elements. It’s the rules “I” apply. How “I” think about it all. There are tons of ways to do this. It doesn’t particularly matter. There’s no right answer. But the way it really happened that no one believes of that you have to pause the story and justify, is one of the wrong answers. Because if the reader has to explain it all to themselves, then they aren’t working on the writer’s story anymore, they’re working on their own. Which is why it tends to throw people out of a tale.

Real is for Non-Fiction, and even then there’s an art.

Fiction, no matter how much it is based on a real thing, has to build up its own world and own logic. Realness either doesn’t apply or works against the model you are trying to create which means you’re working against your reader. Because fundamentally, Story is about A leads to Z. While reality cannot be predicted like that, only recorded, and even then can only move in a straight line from A to Z with labyrinthine explanations and diversions to accommodate the sheer amount of reasoning necessary to explain how A could get to Z in a clear path. The best you can do is to do the large scale abstract. You’ll see that a lot in movie prologue voice overs. “No one would have expected X, to win the election that year, but then there was a war and a plague and the language started to change, and when he won by a landslide, things changed even more.” That’s the abstract. Not the real. The ruleset that “I” carry around that says when things get bad, we turn totalitarian. And it happens quick. That’s not reality either. That’s a scripted narrative. We, culturally believe that. And that’s where we get tropes coming into it. Those are the abstract truths we, as a culture, trust, having no clue how valid it is for Reality itself. But it doesn’t matter. It’s a tautology. So it goes.

And I think I have gone on long enough. It’s just getting too REAL for me at this point :p

[boymeetsweevil]

Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on. 

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore. 

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke

[dmcdrabbles]

*slides you a nice, shiny red orb* 'ey fam you wanna fuck me up with something about the Reader being 100% totally-has-been-since-forever-in love with Nero, but dumb rowdy angel boy either doesn't see it or is with Kyrie?

I got this one SO long ago and it turned into The Mega Ficlet™ which is super exciting for me because even though it’s not that long, I’ve never written this much for a request before (or for most things lol). I think I just really like angst, even though I have much trouble expressing it (๑•́ ω •̀๑) I hope this sad enough lmfao

–

Pairings: Nero x Kyrie, onesided Nero x Male Reader

Summary:  Your best friend is getting married. Of course you’re happy for him. Why wouldn’t you be?

Word Count: 5,638

Warnings:  angst, recreational alcohol use, offscreen injury

——————————————————————————————

The summer after the Qlipoth was as hot as hell on Earth, the kind of summer that got everyone sluggish, running their daily routines at half-speed. Funny how so immediately after life-shattering disaster normalcy slides right back into place, as welcome as an old friend.

Three months have passed, and Redgrave was well into its repairs. Donations came pouring in from outside cities with the unspoken sentiment of “poor thing, but we would’ve done better”; benevolence with an undercurrent of superiority. Even the Devil May Cry crew- including Dante and his brother- had returned to something approaching ‘normal’, whatever that meant for people like them.

You, on the other hand- you had been benched for most of the past three months after a Behemoth had snapped your femur like a twig. Nico had offered to build you a new leg and seemed only mildly discouraged at your reminder that you didn’t plan to cut it off. It was the second big personal disaster of the year- the first being the Qlipoth roots pulverizing your apartment building, forcing you to move in with Nero and Kyrie. You hobbled around their place and felt like a goddamn burden most of the time. You practically begged the doctor to take your cast off.

Only three months gone and normal had slid back into place like one of Nico’s vinyls, spinning round and round and playing the same familiar tune. This one’s called ‘We’ll Be Fine’.

But disasters came in three for you, they always had.

“Okay, okay, slow down!” You yell, pressing your hands against your knees as you try to catch your breath. Ahead of you, Nero slows to a stop and whips around.

“Tired already, Y/N?” He taunts, laughing. “You’ve gotten soft since we left the Order.”

“I just got my cast off two days ago! I’m a normal amount of tired,” You pant, wiping sweat away from your forehead with both arms. Your right leg is throbbing with pain, but you try to keep your steps even. “You’re just too energetic.”

With the rubble cleared in Redgrave City and most of the populace trying to hide from the heat, most of the sidewalks were prime real estate for training. Whole long stretches for Nero to torture you back into shape with. Just like old times. He could always leave you in the dust, fucked-up leg or not.

“What’s got you so bouncy?” You manage, coughing into your wrist.

Nero’s face twists a little and he cups the back of his head, elbows up to the sky as he stretches. The tension in his face melts away as he contemplates, and you almost want to look away- there was just something so private about seeing him so unguarded. He carried the weight of all his stress in his knit brow and his tensed jaw; you haven’t seen him look this relaxed since before you left Fortuna.

“Hey, what’s that look for?” You ask, taking shaky steps to catch up to him. “You get some other new power I didn’t know about?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Nero drops his arms, swings them a bit as you two start walking side by side. Nowadays it’s so obvious how much of a growth spurt he had- you can remember a time when Nero was so much shorter than you that the morning sun wouldn’t be shining behind his head like that. You have to squint just to look at him.

He rubs his nose, and you stiffen despite your exhaustion. Didn’t take a genius to know what that meant, just someone who knows him half as well as you do.

“About your new power?” You laugh, halfhearted. Weird how even emotional weight slows your footsteps these days. ���Did you grow another arm or something?”

“Y/N,” He says, coming to a stop. You just keep walking, trying to keep the jaunt in your step. “I finally asked her.”

“Oh,”

“She said yes.” His voice is so soft.

Couldn’t have expected personal disaster number three to happen so fast. A chronic injury, chugging along with almost-ignorable pain just flaring up fast enough to floor you. Switch the vinyl, play another old song- this one’s called ‘Be Happy for Him’.

“Damn, Nero! Congrats!” You slap his shoulder, “You and Kyrie, getting married? Knew it had to happen eventually.”

A grin breaks out along Nero’s face, and he rubs his nose again. He wraps his arm around your side, yanking you up against his. Like this you barely have to use your bad leg and walking almost feels relaxing again. You’re so close you could tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“We were hoping to have the wedding soon, maybe this month–”

“Why? Any pressing needs?” You joke, petting the air in front of you where a round belly would sit. Nero slaps your hand down.

“No!” He yelps, face red. “We just don’t know how long it’ll be before the next crisis, you know?”

That crease between his brows is back, eyes far off like he was still trying to see the future. Looking for some guarantee that they’d already suffered enough this year and could rest easy for once.

“I know.” You tell the sidewalk, as quietly as if its some kind of secret.

“We don’t exactly have a lot of people to invite, and we wanted something small.” He says, slowly. “About that…”

You round the corner together, finally reaching a part of the city with enough appeal for the people to brave the heat for. You two get more than your share of annoyed glances as passerby weave around the wide blockade you form with your entangled bodies. Nero barely seems to notice.  

“Y/N, you know how long we’ve known each other?”

“Iunno. Nine, ten years maybe?” You wrinkle your nose, thinking back. “All I remember is Credo bringing this little snot-nosed runt into training one day and saying that he was going to join us.”

“Runt?” Nero snorts, “I kicked your ass!”

“Only because you fought dirty!” You jab him in the side and he twists away from it, laughing. “Remember what Credo said when they pulled you off me?”

“'Holy Knights don’t start fistfights’?”

“God, so lame.” You shake your head, willing away the less cheery memories that latch themselves to your time in Fortuna. “So like, a decade. What about it?”

Nero pauses, and realization comes to you quickly. Is it entrapment if he’s got his arm hooked around your shoulders like that?

“You’re the closest friend I have, Y/N…”

Don’t ask this of me, you want to say. Instead you stare ahead, burning the memory of this street into your mind in third-person perspective. You wonder how many of the other people around you are feeling that chronic pain of heartache stabbing at them with every throb. It’s an invisible disease with no risk of mortality; the worst symptom is just a constant feeling of being the dumbest person you know.

“Will you be my best man at the wedding?”

“Really! ‘Will you be my best man’, he says.” You burst, laughing a bit. “You’re making this sound like another proposal! No need to be so formal!”

“You’re such a pain,” Nero grumbles, taking his arm off your shoulder and shoving you. An innocent passerby dodges you by an inch, tossing a dirty look over her shoulder at you. “Will you do it or not?”

“I,” You look at the ground, at the buildings, at the dozens of bystanders watching you squirm. “I think I’d make a pretty shitty best man. I don’t know anything about weddings, you know?”

“You’re not our wedding planner,” Nero protests, “Practically just a witness.”

“What if I don’t want to ‘witness’ you and Kyrie being all lovey-dovey as always?” You quip, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Please?” Nero grabs your hand, turning you around to face him. The two of you are taking up the entire sidewalk- you’re probably shoved once or six times, someone probably yelled at you- but it doesn’t even seem to matter. You stare at him, transfixed. You’re pretty sure you’ve never even heard him say ‘please’ before. “I want you there.”

God dammit. That’s not even fair.

“Okay.”

—

It’s three weeks before the wedding, and Nero’s picking out his tuxedo. You had feigned some horrified shock at the idea- you’d never seen someone force him into formal wear before, let alone seen him wear it willingly. You were half sure he asked you along just to spread the misery.

“If I knew the job meant giving you fashion tips, I would have charged you.” You grumble, shifting uncomfortably on the fitting area couch. Weird how they could spend so much money on interior decorating and still make the place so awful to stay in. Still, it was the only place that had managed not to get destroyed by the Qlipoth, so it wasn’t like you had many options.

“Right?” Nico drawled, foot kicking so fast it practically vibrates. She’s been on edge since the attendant confiscated her cigarettes. She sticks out against the artistic monochrome of the store like a tattooed sore thumb. She leans full on against you, the literal to your metaphor of leaning on her. It’s easier to tamp down the melodrama with her crowing in your ear every other minute. “Maybe the wedding should be trash bag themed. Kyrie would still look cute.”

“Oi, quiet out there!” Nero calls from the other side of the stall. “Nico, what’re you even doing here? You’re a bridesmaid!”

“Maid of Honor,” Nico corrected, “And you need all the fashion help you can get. Now are you coming out here, or what?”

The dressing room creaks open loudly, and Nero takes his first step out. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks almost…sheepish. You’ve never seen him look like that before, and it hits you with a sudden rush of wondering how many other sides of him you’ll never see.

At the beat of silence he spins around and looks at himself in the hallway mirror. He seems so much taller and broader in a suit- he’s nearly as big as Dante now and he looks it.

“Nero, you look…” You start hesitantly. The pause could last a second or an hour and you wouldn’t know any better- it’s unbearable. And punctuated with a loud slap as Nico smacks your thigh with her open palm, jolting you out of your seat as you wheel on her with wide eyes. It throbs in familiar pain again and you clutch it mindlessly.

“Damn, Nero! You ain’t look half bad when you’re cleaned up!” Nico locks eyes with you, a broad grin on her face. “You tell him, Y/N!”

“Right!” You blurt, following her lead. “Never would’ve guessed you’d look so good in a suit.”

Nero glances at you over his shoulder, smile softening his features back into that unfamiliar little boyish look. The wedding date’s barreling towards him and Kyrie faster than Nico in her van, but every day his face seems to hold that unguarded bliss for a little bit longer.

“Good thing, I don’t think Kyrie would have wanted me to get married in street clothes.” He turns back to face the mirror, tugging the hem of his suit again like he’s not used to jackets that fit right. “You don’t think the blue is too much?”

“It brings out your eyes.” You explain. You had picked it off the rack for him with that in mind. Nero’s eyes meet yours in the mirror for a moment, and you wonder if you can play off that softness in your voice for some sort of sentimentality.  

My best friend is getting married to the love of his life and I get to be there for every second of it. I’m so happy I could just die.

“Thanks. I guess this one’s probably it then, huh?” Nero looks down at the suit again, pinching it off his body to look at the fabric. It really is a good match, and you tuck away the little factoid that you’ve spent so much time staring into Nero’s eyes that you’ve memorized their lovely grey-blue.

“You don’t even wanna try the one I picked out?” Nico pouts. She pulls a half-smoked cigarette from her shirt pocket and sets it between her teeth. “Fine, fine, go on and change. We’ll see y'out front.”

Nico has the decency to wait for Nero to get back in the stall before she accosts you. She grabs your arm and yanks you up from your seat, dragging you around the corner and behind the racks of suits. These ones are so expensive you don’t have to worry about customers coming by. How clever. Her fingers are like daggers in your bicep when she spins you around.

“Nico? What the hell are you-”

“Okay, listen here.” She whispers, stabbing your chest with one of her little dagger fingers. Her cigarette stays surprisingly steady between her pursed lips. “I know what’s goin’ on with you-”

“There’s nothing going on with me,” You whisper back, slapping her finger down and rubbing your bruised pec. Your heart races under your palm.

“Hey, hey, shut it!” Her voice climbs until an attendant looks over, and she drops it back down into a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say I feel for you, but you can’t be doin’ none of that-” She clasps her hands together and flutters her eyelashes at you, then snaps back into a stern pout, “Around him, y'know?”

You open your mouth, then close it. Who cares. I’m already obvious.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” You whisper, and Nico has to lean in even closer to hear you.

“Well of course you ain’t,” Nico slaps you in the arm, glancing around the corner to make sure Nero’s still in his changing stall. “Nobody’s looking that tragic on purpose.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Listen,” Nico’s voice drops into a more serious tone, and somehow it makes you nervous. “I’m gonna help you out here. You work with me, and we’re gonna get out of this with minimal damage. It’s a goddamn miracle Nero ain’t already noticed the little crush you got on him, homewrecker.”

The relief drops back down into the pit it rose from. She might as well have slapped you, would’ve been just as funny and hurt less.

“I’m not a fucking hom-” The dressing room door’s creaking cuts you off, and Nico snaps away from you faster than you can finish your sentence. Nero whistles lowly as he turns the corner, suit folded over one arm and lifting the price tag.

“Damn, Y/N. You really know how to pick 'em. This suit’s the most expensive thing I’ll own.” He sighs and let the tag hang, looking up at you and Nico for a moment. He double takes the expensive suits around you, face pulling into a wince. “I am not trying any of those on.”

It’s two weeks before the wedding, and Nero is practicing old drills with you. You never would have thought he’d be the one to suggest it- back when you two were teenagers he hated those drills more than anyone else you knew. Not that it meant his form was ever sloppy; he just played fast and loose with the rules and his sparring never suffered for it. You, on the other hand, had found comfort in the repetition of the exercises; you would practice them over and over until they stuck in your head like ‘Be Happy For Him’.“I can’t believe you still remember all the steps,” Nero mumbled into his shirt, lifted to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He had shoved Red Queen tip-down into the dirt and you had to stifle the old habit of nagging him about it. No officers to get in trouble with anymore. “I did the drills a lot more than you did.” You snort, starting up the drill again from the top. It was nice to know your body could still make the motions. “Never saw the point in them. Nobody fights like,” Nero picks up Red Queen and copies the four steps of the starting drill, “You follow that pattern every time, you’re gonna get your ass kicked by the first person who notices it.”You roll your eyes. “That’s not what the drill is for, which you’d know if you listened to our instructors.” You switch up the first drill halfway, changing to the end part of the third drill then back to the top of the second. “It’s so you know how to respond to your opponent and always have something to fall back on. And for good blade control.”Nero stops your sword with his own, stepping up in front of you so you can see his skeptical look. “So you just go back to the old moves one way or another. But people and demons don’t exactly fight fair. What happens when you get something you don’t have a drill for?”“That’s what the control is for.” You push down Nero’s sword and straighten yourself back into your familiar sparring stance. “Wanna test it out?”“Thought you’d never ask.” Nero grins, spins Red Queen just to show off. “You gonna be good on that leg?”To answer you dash forward, sword flashing in a flurry of sweeps you already know Nero will dodge. Using unblunted weapons is a bad idea, especially at this speed, but you and Nero spend more time practicing with real blades than fake ones anyway. He recognizes the drill as expected and brings Red Queen down by his legs in anticipation of the final slash. You feint away at the last second, whipping your blade back and starting up a different drill; this one presses him to retreat back step by step.He doesn’t even try to attack. Maybe he can see the slight stumble in your bad leg, maybe he knows you’ve never favored your left so strongly before. You stop your drill halfway again and instead make a slash around his head so fast that he stumbles back afterward, a ‘what the hell?’ popping out of his mouth just as a tiny lock of his fringe falls to the floor. “Your cut was a little uneven,” You explain, mouth curling up into a half-smile. “Blade control.”Nero huffs and shrugs, ruffling the front of his hair for a moment and starting to turn away. At the last second, the dull side of Red Queen sweeps the back of your good knee and you crash to the ground with a yelp. Nero stabs Red Queen into the ground beside your head, plants one black boot next to it, and leans over you with a smirk. “Fighting dirty.”

—

It’s one week before the wedding, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table making wedding decorations. The original plan was just flowers scattered everywhere- Nero and Kyrie both loved them- but bouquets were too expensive for a Devil Hunter’s budget. So origami it was.

“Done.” Trish announced, dropping one last flawless stalk of paper leaves onto the table. You had been skeptical about Kyrie’s choice to enlist Trish and Lady with the decorations, but one glance at their work had you eating your words- they were damn good at this. “Do you need help with the roses?”

You exchanged a look with Nero, staring at each other and then the messes you two are making out of the paper. You laugh and slide over a stack of paper. “Yes, please.”

“So, Y/N, how are you holding up?” Lady asks after a moment of working in silence. Your eyes flick to Nico for a second and she raises her hands up defensively, like she expects you to attack her with some delicate handmade decorations.

“Uh,” You accidentally rip one of the petals you’re working on and you curse under your breath. “What do you mean?”

Lady looks between the two of you for a moment, mouth twisting into an amused half-smile. “Your leg?”

“Oh. It’s fine.” You flex your leg out as if to test it again. It responds with a resounding throb of pain. “Would be even better, if somebody didn’t decide to clothesline me with his sword.”

“Come on, I barely hit you.” Nero grumbles, waving away Lady’s dubious look without glancing up from his rose. He’s starting to get the hang of it.

“I figure after the ego bruises heal I can get started on finding a new place.” You continue, just as Kyrie walks in with the snacks for everyone. She stops short, mouth falling open in surprise just as Nero turns to you with an almost identical expression. It would be funny if it wasn’t directed at you.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you planned on moving out so soon!” Kyrie starts up again, placing food and drinks on the table as she watches you with a strangely worried look.

“Ah, well,” You take your drink and gulp it down to spare yourself some time. “After the wedding I thought it would be nice for you and Nero to have the place to yourselves.”

Nero pulls his mouth in a tight line. “We’re not gonna kick you out.”

“You don’t have to,” You say, awkwardly. “I just think it’s going to be awkward having an extra roommate around.” And I can’t pay my share of the rent if I can’t fight anymore.

“You’re always welcome with us,” Kyrie smiles gently, until Nico groans loudly and makes her jump.

“Aw, come on. Don’t make it weird for’im.” Nico crosses her arms, locking eyes with you and nodding just the slightest bit. “He’s just too nice to say he wants his own place again.”

Lady and Trish’s eyes ping-pong between the four of you, watching the argument unfolding with mild amusement. You drop your own gaze to the table to avoid locking eyes with anyone.

“Well, you can stay with us in the meantime,” Kyrie pipes in. “At least until you get back on your feet?”

“Nah,” Nico fills in for you again, “Because he’s gonna be stayin’ with me.”

—

It’s the night before the wedding, and Nero is sitting with you at the bar. He’s trying to salvage something more relaxed out of this bachelor’s party that he didn’t really want, and you’re doing your best to help. Dante’s plan to “show up at the bar and see what happens’ combined with the only guests being the groom, the uncle, the estranged father, and the lovesick best friend is turning about as well as could be hoped.

“He didn’t,” Nero sounded horrified, but a grin was stretched wide across his face.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, shouting over the music and the chatter all around you. You took another cautious glance all around- you hadn’t seen Dante for well over an hour, but you still felt the need to check. “He said ‘if we can’t take Nero to the strip club, we’re taking the strip club to him’. Word for word.”

“Noooo,” Nero moaned, his entire upper body melting onto the bar even as he shook with laughter. His grip stayed firm around his beer though- he learned well from the last one. “Stripper nuns, though? The hell does he think I’m into?”

“I was afraid to ask,” You take another gulp of your own drink, eyes falling closed to savor the way the alcohol seemed to turn even your anxiety into a pleasant blur.

“How the hell did you talk him out of it?” Nero asks the bar, blindly wiping the condensation off his beer glass.

“Told him he could bring stripper nuns to my bachelor party someday.” You lean your face on your hand, watching Nero’s back shake again. You were pretty sure he was giggling. “It’s hard being a martyr.”

“Martyr?” Nero turns his head, pillowing it on his forearm as he smiles at you. God, he’s so drunk. “You’re my guardian angel.”

“At your service,” You salute sarcastically. The conversation lulls and you rest your chin on your hand, glancing around the room. When you look back down at Nero, he’s still watching you. His smile has faded back into something thoughtful. “What?”

“You finished packing up this morning, right?” Nero mumbles, head bobbing slightly with his words.

“Yeah. Nico already picked up my stuff, so I’m staying with her tonight.” You tap your fingers against your glass. “She offered to start teaching me her gunsmithing too.”

At that, Nero sits back up. “Really? You gonna have to pay an apprenticeship fee or something?”

“Pff, no.” You stare at your glass. “But I’ll be joining her side of the business. For now, at least.”

Nero stares at you for a second, mouth open. “The hell? And you didn’t tell me?”

“Uh, sorry?” You twirl your cup, face twisting into a grimace. “I’m just testing it out for now.”

“Jeez. You’re leaving devil hunting and I’m getting married. What a year.” He sips his beer. “You excited?”

You look at Nero for a moment, not sure how to answer. How do you say ‘I’d rather it all stay the same forever’ without sounding as pathetic as you feel?

The bartender saves you, sliding up to offer refills. You accept, and she turns to Nero.

“I’m still working on it,” Nero sits up, drunk grin relaxing back into that soft expression he got so often lately. “We probably shouldn’t drink too much before tomorrow.”

“Special occasion?” The bartender asks, sliding your drink to you and picking up your old glass to clean it out. You take it in big gulps, a medicine for the upcoming repetitive conversation- you’ve heard people ask Nero about it so many times you can’t stand to be sober for it this time.

“Wedding.” Nero grins. The bartender whoops and tops off his beer.

“Finally some good news in this city. Everyone’s so damn depressing lately.” The bartender picks up a clean glass, clinks it against yours and Nero’s cups in turn. “Congrats, you two!”

The warmth in your stomach cools, then freezes. You fumble, exchange a glance with Nero. “Oh, I’m not–”

“He’s the best man,” Nero explains, red up to his ears. “I’m marrying someone else.”

“Oh,” The bartender says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Sorry, you were just looking at each other all puppy-eyed-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” You interrupt, and you must look queasy because she hands you a plastic bag from under the counter even as she points to the back corner. The second your bad leg takes your weight it crumples under you, and Nero’s arm shoots out to hold you up. You twist out of his grip.

“I’m good, I’m good-” You assure him as you stumble off, not caring who you bump into, breathing hard into the plastic bag. People sober enough to see the way you heave part way for you, clearing a decent path to the bathroom. You shove the door open as hard as you can. To your irritation, it doesn’t even make a peep. You scan the room- empty. You run into a stall. You fall to your knees in front of the toilet bowl.

And you let out a sob.

It echoes through the bathroom, multiplying until it almost feels as loud and as crushing as it feels. You grip the bowl and empty your tears into it, whole body curling into itself tighter and tighter like you can make yourself so small and weak that the pain will leave, satisfied. Every sob forces its way out of you violently. Let it out, you tell yourself sarcastically, the same way you would if you really had just vomited into the bowl like you were supposed to.

You don’t know how long you kneel there, only that by the time you finally roll onto your ass your knees are numb. You’re still crying but at least the roaring in your ears has died down enough for you to hear your phone vibrating against the tile. It must’ve fallen out of your pocket. You glance down, eager to shut it off, but it’s slid far into another stall and you practically have to crawl into it to pick the phone up. At least the gaps under the stalls are massive.

Two notifications- a text from Nero (‘you ok?’) and an incoming call. “NICO” flashes across the screen. Right. She was supposed to be picking you all up.

“Finally you answer!” Nico yells into the phone, and you wince away from it. “You know how many times I’ve been callin’ you, dummy?”

“Sorry,” You whisper into the phone. Another sob shakes you, and you cover your mouth. Too late.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Her voice is so much softer than usual and it makes another sob bubble up out of you.

“I’m so tired of this, Nico.” You whisper, voice taking on a harsh edge as you grit your teeth. “I can’t do this.”

“Hey, hey, hey lover-boy, it’s just one more day. One more day and this shit’s over and done with.”

“It’s not!” You hiss, drawing your knees up tight to your chest. When your voice comes out again, it’s rising louder and louder. For a second the music in the bar seems to climb with your voice, then it’s damped down again. “It’s not done tomorrow! Tomorrow is the ‘first day of the rest of their lives’,” Your voice breaks in a half-crazed, exhausted laugh, “And I’m so happy for them! Nobody in the world deserves it more than they do! I should know, I’ve been by their sides for almost a fucking decade!”

“Listen–”

“We don’t have the Order anymore, we don’t have Fortuna anymore, but they have each other and Nero is so, so happy with her.” You have to pause, overwhelmed by another breath-stealing shudder, “I would never want to hurt Nero. I want him to be happy.” Your whole body seems to relax at once, ragdolling you against the stall. “I just wish he could be happy with me.”

“Listen, lover-boy,” Nico starts, but you don’t hear the rest. Through the bottom gap in the stall you can see a pair of black boots, standing motionless just a few feet away. They turn slowly, and by the time you have the stall open he’s gone.

—

It’s the day of the wedding. They planned it for the evening, just a simple ceremony in a simple place with a small group of people and a simple reception. The details blur together like you’re still drunk. Nero hasn’t spoken to you since last night, and you can’t tell whether it’s deliberate. On their wedding day, grooms rarely have time to chat, let alone confront their best man on what they may or may not have heard the night before.

As planned, you and Nico walk the aisle together to your spots. You’re too slow for the music and you know it, but you’re not used to your new cane yet and you haven’t gotten the right rhythm to support your steps with it yet. Nico stayed up late crafting it for you, said you couldn’t just keep fucking up your bad leg by walking on it as much as you do. She’s working overtime to act like you’re just hungover instead of emptied out from an emotional breakdown, and when you can feel present again you’ll be sure to thank her. Until then you stand behind Nero, face schooled into a smile.

How far back would you have to go to save yourself from this feeling? The moment you accepted your role as best man? The moment Nero told you he was getting married? Your choice to follow them after the crisis in Fortuna? The day you and Nero were sworn into The Order? The day you met him?

How many years would you erase to stop yourself from being here this day, this time, standing at Nero’s side and knowing the fact it was a place no longer reserved for you?

Had it ever been?

Nero looks back at you over his shoulder, brow creased up in that soft expression that has gotten so familiar over this past month. Not a sign of fear or regret. It was the face he made when those butterflies fluttered in his stomach, when he told you about being with Kyrie, about the future he wanted together with her. A face that said he couldn’t wait for the future.

But his eyes are sad. And you have to wonder what that means.

He turns as the music started for her walk down the aisle. So beautiful in white, the fabric of her veil fluttering behind her almost reminiscent of Nero’s wings. She glows in the sunlight. The smile on her face crumples into an overwhelmed grin as she looks up the aisle to her groom and his best man, both of whom stood there with faces wet with tears.

As Kyrie and Nero step into each other’s spaces they bubble off the world around them. No pretenses between them, no expectations, just hands meeting and a whisper under Nero’s breath of her name, spoken like the most intimate word in the world.

And you stand there privy to it, like a voyeur to joy that was never meant for you or your ears.

Tonight, tomorrow, a week from now, a year, you can rebuild yourself into something that you hate a little less. You reassemble yourself just like Redgrave City has, piece by piece. You can play that familiar tune “We’ll Be Fine”, because you will be.

But for today? Today you witness their first kiss as husband and wife, and you stumble a little when you let go of your cane to applaud.

[harrisonsloman]

Is Being ‘Good’ Not Enough for You?

Is Being ‘Good’ Not Enough for You?

How to be the BEST at Krav Maga

I’m not going to lie and tell you this article is about being nice and dandy. It’s not! I know you want to be the best you can be and you want to be able to kick anyone’s ass in any situation, you want to be untouchable (though you don’t admit it freely). It’s natural, we’ve all watched too much television and grown up in a world where violence has been glorified. We want to see ourselves as the hero who can function effectively in the face of adversity and stick-it to the villains of the world.

Reality is never that perfectly written, and without trying to get to the root causes of such desires, I’m just going to offer some pathways for you to get yourself closer to that destination. If you really want it, you need consistency, dedication and clear focus. On top of that, having, passion to fuel you is important.

First of all, I do not condone inappropriate use of force and actions in violent situations and conflict. Imi, the Founder of Krav Maga was a big advocate of his students being ‘good citizens’, and we hold that core value very close to our hearts.

Never-the-less, here’s an overview of my tips to becoming the Krav Maga weapon you’ve always wanted to be…

Please note that what I’m listing below isn’t for everyone! If you’re willing to go the extra mile, then you’re in for a good shot.

Train In Your Krav Maga Gym for a Minimum 5 Hours a Week. Whether you do a few classes back to back, or spread it over a few sessions, it’s important that you’re getting good exposure to training. If you see the opportunity to do more, then do more!

Get Super Fit.

Sure you don’t need to be an athlete to defend yourself, but if you want to be a WOMD then I suggest you get super fit and agile. Do lots of running, skipping, ladder drills, pad rounds, HIIT, strength work, etc. Do as much as you can so that you have the ability to defend and attack from any position effortlessly. Make sure whatever you do is functional so that it transfers to your Krav Maga.

Acclimatisation Drilling.

I first learned about this topic from Deane Lawler. The most basic way for me to explain is that it teaches you to ignore the shock of an attack and go on the offensive as quickly as possible (if not simultaneously in the worst case situation).

How does it work? The attacker will aim to stun you to simulate the shock of being hit, and you’re job is to disregard the shock and strike back. The aim is to create a pattern of instinctive countering. It becomes subconscious and really, REALLY, REALLY works magic! If there was just one idea you’d take out of this out of this whole article, it’s acclimatization.

How to drill it: Have your partner hold two focus mitts in their hands. They will attack you to the head with circular hand strikes. You must do a head cover/gunt and an immediate, powerful counter to focus mitts (remember, power is derived from speed, mass and distribution/technique; you can modify this to suit your needs, and we’ll release videos to show variations).

It resonates with me and the focus I put on teaching and training. It’s inline with Krav Maga principles and with my personal experiences in the real world. As someone who has been in many real violent situations, I can say that this form of training really gets you conditioned to the reality of these situations and to the reality of what it takes to survive.

Get The Killer Instinct.

If you don’t develop this, you’ll likely be in shit. You need to have a real brutal and vicious machine inside you, ready to switch into a bloodthirsty, cannibalistic animal that refuses to be taken down. You have to be badder than the bad. You need to get in touch with your dark side, and really embrace it to help you fight for the forces of light. If you’re too nice, you might need to work on this!

To survive real conflict, you need to be able to lift your game to a whole new intensity and you need aggression, determination, courage and a fair bit of ‘crazy’ to get through it.

Work on developing strong intentions and actions to what you need to do. Meaning paint in your mind and in your training all the tools to be brutally effective. While doing this always aim to create a mind that cannot be distracted from the task and that will do whatever it takes.

Do 30-60 minutes of Shadow Krav Maga Daily.

You can call this whatever you want. Just ensure you’re working on your Krav Maga in a way where you’re practising your striking, footwork, and defences in the air. Focus on good form, having flow, and on working from natural positions/points in time. You want to give yourself a good contextual understanding of Krav Maga and doing it like this will help you make it all natural. You may feel awkward doing it initially, but that’s part of the process when integrating your movements so they become like second-nature to you. Remember that perfect practice makes perfect, so go in with the right attitude, energy and focus so that you have good awareness of yourself.

Repetition is only good if your technique is good. If you do it wrong, you just drilled a bad habit, so stay aware.

Ensure You’re Pressure Testing And Scenario Drilling.

You need to be running live testing drills that simulate reality as close as possible. You’ll hopefully get lots of drills in class, but if not, just organise a little group and do it somewhere on the side. I’d be looking at doing this at least 1-2 hours a week and doing as many multiple attacker rounds as possible. *Remember to always put safety first. Do it realistically, but do it responsibly.*

Do Pad Rounds.

If you don’t do enough in class, consider doing them elsewhere. You should do at least 18 x 1-2 minute rounds a week. Mix it up so that the intensity is always changing.

Spar More Than A Few Rounds A Weeks.

If you’re not sparring and trying your skills against other resisting opponents, then good luck when you deal with it for the first (and possibly last) time on the street. You can extend this to all pressure drills, multiple attackers and so on with full safety gear on.

Condition your mind.

Visualise and practice concepts like NLP (Neural Linguistic Programming; a mental patterning tool) to condition yourself for the success you’re after. Visualise all aspects of any situation, any attribute and so on to improve your mental comprehension. It has been proven that athletes who visualise and work on their mindset learn faster and perform better than those that do not.

Get A Full Contact Job.

Go be a bouncer, or take up a job as a hired hand with the Mafia. Just kidding! Working in a situation where you’re practising all your skills, including de-escalation and conflict resolution will help you. Just don’t get killed and don’t break the law! For most people this will be unreasonable, and I understand, but some of you will feel that you need to take this step, especially if you’ve never been in a real fight in your life. The alternative is to go start some fights, but we don’t advocate that at all, so don’t!

Practice 1 or 2 Showstopper Techniques.

Have 1 or 2 techniques you can use to preemptively strike and take out a threat. Something simple and direct, aimed at vital points to neutralise the threat quickly and with maximum efficiency, with minimum time and energy. Practice these techniques from positions where you look non-threatening and non-telegraphic.

Learn How To Retzev.

You need to have a good compound attack (a sequence of attacks that do not stop). The only thing with this one is that you want to keep it very simple and, like the show stopper techniques, you need to be able to drill it and rely on it. Start with a good sequence of powerful hand attacks, that goes forward relentlessly, viciously and with the prime objection to overwhelm and destroy the opponent.

Toughen Up Your Tools.

Most people will probably disagree with me, but who cares! Toughen up your shins, knuckles, forearms and body through conditioning work and hitting things. You know how it feels when you collide with someone’s shin, or their forearm on outside defences right? Well imagine it barely hurt you. I can’t tell you how many times people have wacked into my shins, and it hasn’t even fazed me, while they’re walking off to the side with regret on their faces. (All because I spent my teenage years kicking poles).

Record Yourself.

Use your camera phone, or your camera and record yourself doing different types of training. Refer to it often and use it to fix areas of concern, and/or refine upon something.

Be Open To Learning From Others.

I think to really get a holistic understanding of any topic that we need to have an open mind and not just conform and keep a status quo. Yes, if you’re really passionate about Krav Maga, increase your world-view on the topic. Learning from more than one source is not a bad thing. It can help validate things, expand knowledge and so much more. We do our best in Krav Maga Systems to give as much of a holistic approach as possible, but still, if you really want to understand the world of Krav Maga, you need to do some research and ask lots of questions.

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall.

Yeah, I say it all the time and I’ll say it again. Train in front of a mirror! You will see what you do and be able to correct it there are then. Every exceptional Kravist, fighters or martial artists I know does this!

Watch Lots Of Real Life CCTV & Combat Sports.

Balance these out. Look at how real life conflict starts and escalates and what it looks like. Establish a good grounds for reality, even if you’ve been there and done that. Train with those situations in mind, and feel free to recreate them in a scenario. Learn from them to understand the mind of you potential enemy.

Practice De-escalation In Training.

Probably the most important thing one needs is a good skills in de-escalation. Think of it as your own personal Iron Dome. The Iron Dome intercepts and destroys missiles that are aimed at targets within Israel. Your Iron Dome is constantly looking for threats in the awareness stages, but if something gets into its path it intercepts it without fail.

Look at this intercept as a pattern interrupt or a pattern change instead and make sure you’re training in how to talk down a potential threat first where it is possible. This is very important in your training and sits in the realm of knowing your stages of conflict, force continuum, and a whole lot of other things.

If you’re a bit shy in training, practice it solo (in the mirror is a good place to start). Having more than just physical skills is important. I often think about how I could talk my way out of a lot of situations because I understand what’s happening and where I am in the stages of conflict. Having such knowledge and being to apply it is really important!

Anyway, I could just keep on going, but I’ll leave it at that. These are some tips for you and I hope they help you greatly. May you walk in peace dear friend!

Source URL: https://kravmagasystems.com.au/is-being-good-not-enough-for-you/

[festfashions]

Sunglasses from Quay, pants from Forever 21, and top from Hollister.

Desert X

Two years ago around the time of Coachella I started to see all over Instagram these photos taken in the desert with art sculptures. The one that was most Insta-famous was what looked like a mirrored building. After some quick Google research I found out that it was one piece of many for a pop up art exhibit called Desert X.

By the time I was headed to Coachella, I made a plan to visit some of the art pieces. They were super cool and all free (as the event is produced by a not-for-profit organization).

This year, somewhere, probably in one of many emails I get, I saw that Desert X was coming back! So I planned a trip solely to visit the art. 

I know this isn’t about a festival or rave, but it’s still something cool, and a lot of the festivals/raves I go to have an awesome collection of art. Plus, I know sometimes there’s down time for people who attend Coachella and stay outside the festival, so it’s an awesome opportunity to visit some of it!

The basics: Desert X is produced by Desert Biennial, a not-for-profit 501(C)(3) charitable organization founded in 2015 to bring international artists to the Coachella Valley to create art, engage viewers and focus attention on the valley’s environment.

From their site “[Desert X’s] natural wonders as well as socio-political-economic issues that make it vibrant, curious and exciting.” And it definitely is.

It takes place Feb 9 - April 21, 2019 all along Coachella Valley, CA. The art pieces are spread out, and some require some walking or hiking to from where you can park your car.

You can download the app to find the locations, but for me, it was much more fun to get a good old paper map to make a full adventure of the trip. There are hubs where you can pick this up, and we got ours at the Ace Hotel. Once you have the map you’ll see the pieces are spread out all over the Coachella Valley. Driving from top to bottom takes just over an hour, and then stopping in between... we decided to split the map in half, and do the top half this trip in two days. 

The bottom half is closer to where Coachella is actually hosted, and since I’ll probably be there to take photos, I figured this was a good way to split the trip up so it wasn’t overwhelming. 

So I'll share with you what the pieces were like that we visited on this trip, and which were my favorites. I’m looking forward to seeing more though later, I think this is such a unique experience.

First up was Dive-In by Superflex. This one was really easy to get to, right at the start of a hiking trail and very easy to see from the road. One thing that is unique about this art experience is that the locations aren’t always an address, so you use the coordinates provided, plug them into your phone and follow the map then to exactly where the art piece is. Half the fun is finding them, I think.

I loved this piece a lot, and I loved the story it had to tell. If you go to the Desert X site, and click on artists you can see write ups of each piece and what it means. I opened the link once we found each piece because they spoil what it looks like at the top of the page, and it was much more meaningful to read when looking at the piece. I’d suggest doing the same.

This was definitely an Insta-worthy stop too, the bright pink colors contrasting the blue sky. I learned a lot about Coachella Valley visiting this one, like how it all used to be underwater tens of thousands of years ago, and how it probably will be again someday. That’s why this piece, was reminiscent of coral, and would work as a great habitat of sea creatures in the future.

It Exists in Many Forms by Postcommodity was located in a famous mid-century home in Palm Springs. The write up for this one was more interesting than the art piece-- I just really didn’t get it. The house was under construction and there was some audio stuff playing in it but I couldn’t discern what was going on ... we left this one pretty quickly. 

Also this one required tickets, but we were able to get in anyway, but try to get your tickets online before just in case, they’re free, you just have to register.

After this, well, let’s be glad it was a gorgeous day cuz I sent us on a 30-ish minute detour plugging in the wrong coordinates lol. Pro tip copy the coordinates before you hit search in case you need to double check them or type them in again, cuz it takes a while to type them into maps. 

Eventually though we made our way back down a mountain from my detour to the next piece that we actually passed on the way to the detour... yea I know I know whatever...

We found Lover’s Rainbow by Pia Camil. This was also a very Insta-worth piece, and is really cool because it has an identical rainbow located in Baja, Mexico. It has the message of re-inserting rain and fertility into desert territory. I loved how when we arrived there, the shadow from it at one end made the illusion of a heart with the art piece. Call me a romantic. 

From here we went on a treasure hunt to find the next location, hidden in a strip mall. Wormhole by Cynthia Marcela uses empty storefronts in Coachella Valley as well as one in Tijuana, Mexico. That means there’s a total of 6 pieces scattered around to find. 

You really have to look for it, but once you find the correct storefront, you look inside and there’s a TV, streaming the front of one of the other locations, creating a wormhole, ‘a shortcut through space and time’. 

I kept hoping someone would visit the location I was seeing so I could see them on the TV, and I found it really neat to think that someone somewhere else might be seeing me checking out this location. For me, seeing one of these was enough, so you can pick one that’s near where other art is to make it less driving all around.

We opted for one more this day, and it was Peace is the Only Shelter by Mary Kelly. This was another one that was listed as having 3 locations, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. All 3 were relatively close together, but I did have a hard time finding them until I found one -- because then I knew what to look for. The piece is a re-skinned bus stop. 

The piece repurposes Cold War-era peace activism, calling attention to the anti-nuclear Women's Strike for Peace formed in 1961. You visit the bus stop and read about their stance as well as another anti-war movement from the 2000s. Underwhelming by sight, I thought the piece was much more interesting once I read about it online and visited inside to read the posters.

Day 2

We were up to start our art hunt. 

First up was Revolutions by Nancy Baker Cahill... And I made a huge mistake of not downloading the app they said to before getting there, so we didn’t get to experience it. The app is HUGE which is why they suggest downloading it before cuz you’ll need wifi. My phone was like uh... no. Literally, it gave me a pop up saying to connect to wifi and wouldn’t download. It’s a VR experience so you need the app.

This one though is located off the freeway which is the route many of us take into Coachella, so I’ll plan to visit it easily another time. 

From there we kept driving to Jackrabbit, Cottontail & Spirits of the Desert by Cara Romero. This was another of my favorites. You almost miss it if you’re not sure what you’re looking for, but it’s a series of billboard with photographs on them. They show ‘four special time-traveling visitors from Chemehuevi who have come to the ancestral lands of their sister tribes in the Coachella Valley’. 

The billboards go by fast, and only face one way, so I didn’t capture any photos so that I could just experience them. I really liked learning about and taking a peek at these ancestral visitors. 

Western Flag by John Gerrard is located right next to the Palm Springs visitors Center, and another one that is easily visitable on your drive into Palm Springs. It’s a giant box with one side hosting a screen simulation of the site of the world’s first major oil find in Spindletop, TX in 1901. The piece shows what looks like a flag pole with and endless stream of black smoke as the flag. The visual runs in parallel with the real site in Texas, with the sun rising in the video at the appropriate times and the days getting longer and shorter according to the seasons.

While all the pieces are making a statement, I’d say this one made me feel the most ‘awkward’ in the way that art can when it makes you think about things.

Our next stop took us up to Desert Hot Springs where two pieces are located. They’re relatively close to each other and -whoops- once again I got some coordinates wrong that tried to take us down a closed up road. We had to search cross streets as an alt way to the art because the coordinates weren’t going to take us a legal way...

Ghost Palm by Kathleen Ryan was a hard one to find as it was built with clear materials. Once we walked closer and closer to it we could see it better, and unfortunately with I think a lot of wind and rain some of it has fallen apart, but it was still clearly a meticulously recreated palm tree, matching those found around California. 

This was probably one of the furthest we had to walk to from where we parked our car, but still was not very far. 

We then found ourselves in a neighborhood for the next one which had a part 1 and part 2. Going Nowhere Pavilion #01 by Julian Hoeber was a cool structure winding within itself. This piece and its sister piece were commentaries on psychology and the human mind. This piece was about how ‘what is inside and outside the self can quickly become indiscernible’.

The sister piece was located in the small pool of the abandoned house next door. A pink painted pool had the sculpture of a man’s head in center of the floor of the pool. Both pieces were interesting to check out, but a little to over my head. I did like how they were tucked into a neighborhood, how cool would it be for all neighborhoods to have such interesting pieces on vacant lots?

The last piece we checked out was SPECTER by Sterling Ruby. An eye popping piece with a vibrant construction orange color it looks beautiful against the desert tones. The sun was hitting it in amazing ways as well, creating a reflection on the sand, and unique colors on each side even though they were all the same. 

I felt like I could sit and stare at this piece all day and watch how it changed with the environment around it. What would it look like at sunset? In the night would it glow?

I’d like to visit this one again if I can when I go back to Coachella at another time of the day.

So there it is, part one of my Desert X adventure. I’m excited to explore the other pieces, and I’m really glad I dedicated some time to drive around and find them. It’s a fun adventure and something out of the ordinary from our digital based lives. 

Not every piece will connect with you, and some that didn’t connect with me may connect with you, so I’d urge you to explore each piece on your own vs taking my opinions. Art is subjective, make the experience yours.

[seungmop]

KTH - Timewarped

prompt : ( Taehyung x Reader ) You get lost while exploring the woods with a couple friends, this unknowingly leads to you going back in time and meeting the love of your life. The only problem is that, of course, you can’t stay.

genre : romance , angst , time travel au

word count : 5k

muse insp : Christina Perri - A Thousand Years ( spotify , youtube )

note : if you’ve seen this story before, it’s because it was on my previous blog, jungtookthejams. i’ve moved it to this one because i worked so hard on it.

disclaimer : i did my research for this fic, some of the information is true while some of it is made up for the sake of the plot.

---

It was a normal day for you, at first. You woke up in your queen sized bed, rolled around in the soft sheets and comfortable blankets for about an hour, then finally decided to get up and make some breakfast. You ate by yourself, then sat on your couch and watched some Korean dramas.

Just a normal Saturday.

Your friend, Mina, texted you, asking if you wanted to come with her and her boyfriend into the woods for a night. Her boyfriend was into supernatural stuff and the like, so this didn’t surprise you.

Y/N: yeah, whatever. As long as i don’t third wheel the whole damn time

Minass: lmao ok, meet us at the 7/11 at 7pm. We might stay the night

Y/N: wtaf

Minass: u’ll see! It’ll be fun!

Y/N: leave me be, peasant. I’ll be there

Minass: :D

She was really too much sometimes, but you loved her nonetheless. And so, you began to gather some belongings into a small bag to take with you. Your phone, its charger, a few articles of clothing, and your water bottle. With that, you sat back down and waited until it was time for you to get dressed and leave.

* * *

Mina was waving at you from her boyfriend’s car in the parking lot when you arrived. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you walked over to the black vehicle, welcoming yourself to sit in the back seat.

“Hey, Y/N,” The boy in the driver’s seat greeted you, flashing you a small grin in the mirror.

“Hi, Kennah,” You smiled back at him as you fasten your seat belt, getting comfy in the leather seats, “Thanks for letting me come.”

“No problem,” He responded as he began to drive down the road.

“Y/N,” Mina giggled, “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” You murmured, “Glad to have all my projects and essays done for midterms.”

“Ugh,” You friend groaned, “I still have to finish my essay on the Goryeo Dynasty. Can you go over it with me? You’re a history nerd!”

You sighed, “All right, I’ll quiz you on what I know off the top of my head. First of all, what year was the kingdom of Goryeo established?”

“Um,” Mina mumbled, “908 CE?”

Shaking your head, you sighed, “No, no, it was 918 CE. Who established it and was the first king?”

“Oh!” Mina smiled, “I know this one! It’s-”

“Taejo,” Kennah cut her off, smirking, “King Taejo.”

Mina pouted and stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend, making you chuckle, “Correct. Now, Mina, who were Taejo’s three sons?”

“Okay, um, Namjoon, Taehyung, and.. Seokjin?” The girl stuttered, seeming unsure of her answer.

“Yes!” You grinned at her, “Which one of the three was the crown prince, and later went on to become one of the greatest rulers in Korean history?” You smirked internally; it was a trick question.

“The crown prince was Kim Seokjin,” Mina explained, “However, he never became king because he was assassinated before he could, he was age twenty-five at the time. Instead, Kim Namjoon, the second oldest, went on to become king when he was twenty-nine, and he went on to become one of the greatest rulers in Korean history.”

You clapped excitedly as Kennah went to hold Mina’s hand while smiling at her.

“Well done!” You exclaimed happily, “Now what happened to the youngest, Taehyung?”

“Kim Taehyung was more interested in writing and art than politics. The books Professor Choi made me study actually said that he resented being a prince! So he preferred to stay low and work on his art. He was happy, at least, to not be the crown prince. He became a famous artist later in time, but during his own time, he was more of a loner. He still got married, an arranged marriage, but it was said that he wasn’t happy with the marriage and didn’t have kids at all. His art and literature became famous much after his passing.”

“Yes!” You giggled, giving her a high-five, “Who’s the nerd, now?”

“Still you,” She stuck her tongue out at you.

         * * *

“All right,” Kennah chuckled, pulling into a section of dirt beside the forest, “We’re here.”

“Wonderful,” You mumbled, “We’ve been in that car forever. Where even are we?”

“Sorta near the border,” Mina responded, getting out of the car with you and Kennah following her, “The Manwoldae Palace, or what’s left of it, isn’t that far from here. Cool, right?”

“What,” You laughed, leaning against the car, “You think the ghosts of the royal family are here?”

“Maybe,” Kennah grinned, looking into the dark forest in front of you all, “Come on, let’s go.

“I regret this already,” You sighed, following the couple into the darkness. But within minutes of stepping foot in the woods, you lost sight of them.

“Hey, guys?” You called out, “Can you come back here? Mina, can I grab your sleeve? I can’t see shit.”

You, however, got no response.

“Guys?” You called out again, gripping your bag in a slight panic, “This isn’t funny!”

Absolute silence greeted you. Beginning to freak out, you pulled out your phone, only to realize that you had no signal. Groaning, you covered your eyes with your hand and sighed.

“Okay,” You mumbled, “If I just turn and go back the other way, I’ll get to the car and I can wait for them there.”

So, you set off the way you came, using your fully-charged phone (you’d kept it on the charger in the car) as a flashlight to guide your way out of the condensed, dark forest. Swiping branches out of your way, plants nipping your legs bare legs (you only wore a plain black shirt and combat shorts with a pair of boots), and getting smacked in the face by several leaves, you attempted to navigate yourself back to the car. After minutes of walking, you became uneasy as the trees seemed to become endless. Shouldn’t you be back at the car by now?

Suddenly, a thick fog rolled into your vision, making it even harder to see. Was it even supposed to be foggy tonight? Hell if you knew.

Squinting your eyes as an attempt to see through the mist, you staggered forward, when your foot caught on something and you were sent tumbling down onto the hard ground. Groaning in pain, you lifted your head and used your hand to blindly search for your phone. The second your fingertips touched the cool plastic of your mint coloured phone case, you took hold of it and used a nearby tree truck to pull yourself up and balance yourself on.

Huffing, you turned your focus back ahead of you and continued trekking, the light from the flashlight on your phone illuminating your path. Or, the fog in your path. The light was useless now, but better than walking in the pitch black dark. You continued to walk, silently cursing Mina for dragging you into this mess until something odd came into your scrutiny.

Was that a.. palace? An ancient Korean style palace?

There was no way, the remains of the ancient Goryeo palace may have been near where you and your friends decided to explore, but no one has built a recreation of the palace, especially not near the original location.

Deciding to shrug it off – who cared? Where there’s any type of palace, there are probably people who can get you out of here – you continued walking through the woods to get to the large structure. Around it were torches; real, on-fire torches. You had to give it to the reenactors, they went all out to make sure it was olden-like.

You turned off your phone’s light and stuck it back in your bag as you approached, there were two men dressed as ancient guards standing in front of the palace gates. One saw you walking towards them and seemed to do a double take before pointing the tip of his spear at your throat as you were about to speak, blood almost trickling down your throat.

The other guard glared harshly at your pathetic figure, “Halt. State your name and business, why are you at the Manwoldae Palace at this ungodly hour?”

Eyes slightly wide, you took in their appearance and words. The Manwoldae Palace was destroyed sometime in the fourteenth century, it was burned to the ground and there was no recreation of it as far as you knew. What were these men talking about?

You gulped, “Um, my friends and I were going to explore the woods a little, but I ended up getting lost. Our car shouldn’t be far from here-”

“What is this ‘car’ you speak of, outsider? Why are you at the palace gates? Do you wish to do harm to the royal family of Goryeo?” The guard with the spear to your throat pressed, shoving the sharp tip further into your skin.

“N- No!” You squeaked, “I- I am simply lost.”

“Lost?” The other guard narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

“Seoul,” You said in response, “I came from Seoul.”

“There is no such place!” The first guard hissed, “I shall kill you.”

“P- Please,” You stuttered in fear, your eyes wide, “Please don’t hurt me!”

Before anything else could happen, a smooth, deep voice punctured the air, “That’s enough, men. I shall deal with the girl.”

You looked behind the guard to see a tall man, his attire obviously royal-like. He looked down at you with a soft smile.

“Yes, your Majesty,” Both guards responded, going back to their original posts. The princely figure made his way in front of you and gently took your hand, pressing a kiss to it, “Good evening, my lady. I am Prince Namjoon of the Goryeo region, under King Taejo’s rule.”

You blinked, your mind hazy. He looked exactly like the artwork done of Prince Namjoon. Was this some type of fucked up dream? Did you pass out in the forest?

He let go of your hand and slid it up to your shoulder, gently guiding you in front of him into the palace. You decided to play along, still not sure what was going on.

“I am L/N Y/N, your Majesty. I am sorry for intruding on your palace so late at night-”

“No worries, Ms Y/N. You are lost, yes? We will make sure you get home safely. Where are you from?” He coolly responded, smiling as you looked in awe around the palace.

Holy hell, you thought, the detail! They got every little intricate detail down about the palace’s structure and decor.

The gold, the candles and torches, the velvet carpets; they had it all.

“Seoul,” You mumbled, still dazed.

“Seoul? I have never heard of such a place.”

Whipping your head to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed, “It’s the capital city of South Korea.”

“South Korea? Where is that, exactly?” He seemed genuinely confused, his expression similar to yours.

“Here!” You had the urge to yell, however you swallowed that urge and licked your lips nervously, “It is far from here. I wish to not go back, I fled to escape my cruel family. If you allow me temporary hospitality, I will repay you with whatever I can get my hands on upon leaving to support myself on my own.”

“I see,” The prince nodded, seemingly deep in thought, “I will let my family know of your presence. For now, I shall lead you to a room to stay and.. Change,” He glanced down at your outfit, making you bite your tongue from shooting a snarky remark in response, instead looking down with an embarrassed blush on your face with a nod.

         * * *

You sat on the large, plush bed and stared at your hands. What was happening? Were you really in the tenth century?

Were you ever going to see your friends and family again?

You sighed and slid your hands down your face, biting your lip. This was all too much to take in. Maybe if you sleep, you’ll wake up tomorrow in the woods. Or better, in the car.

Looking over at the nightgown on the dresser, you nodded, making a mental decision, and stood up to slip into it.

         * * *

You never did get any sleep that night.

Now, it was a week later, and you sat in the private garden with the youngest prince, Taehyung, listening as he rambled about brush strokes.

“For outlines of things or thicker areas of colour, you use thicker, more bold strokes. Then, for detail, you use a smaller, thinner brush for lines of the same..”

You never thought the loneliest prince was so outgoing and a conversationalist. He was so fun to be around, by far your favourite of the three, and he was bubbly and cute. He didn’t seem like the type to be a prince, nevermind the prince of Goryeo!

Of all your studies of Goryeo, you never imagined it would be this beautiful and wonderful. The doctrines, recreations, and artwork really did the era no justice.

“Y/N? Are you even listening to me?”

You jumped out of your thoughts to turn your head to Taehyung with a sheepish smile, “No, I’m sorry.”

He sighed and chuckled at you, “Always in your own little world. I’m glad my father allowed you to stay with us. You’re different from other women.”

“Oh?” You mumbled, looking down a bit. He hummed and nodded, “Yeah. You’re more straight-forward and easier to talk to. It’s like you don’t care about gender, that just because I’m a man doesn’t mean we can’t sit and have a conversation. Especially despite my status.”

You bit your tongue from making a remark about how people are equal despite gender and that everyone’s human, that no one shouldn’t be able to not have a conversation with someone else because of their gender or status-

“I like having you around.”

Your head snapped up to look at the prince, who was grinning down at you, “You’re not uptight like my brothers or any others from my family. I feel like I actually have a friend.”

You gave him a soft smile and gently set your hand on his arm, “I’m so glad you think so. I think of you as a friend as well, I’m grateful to have you during this hectic time in my life,” You sighed.

The young man hummed, “What is your story? Namjoon didn’t tell me much.”

Sliding your small hand down his arm to set it back down on the stone bench the two of you were seated on, you sighed. Of course, you couldn’t tell him the truth – or could you?

No, not now. Maybe later on, if you stay long enough. Then again, it’s not like you knew anything about time travel to leave anytime soon anyway.

“I am the daughter of a nobleman. He had lots of riches, but he was cruel. Behind closed doors, he beat my mother and I. So, I took my mother and we ran. My mother died during our journey, but I didn’t stop. I stumbled upon your palace and a guard almost killed me, but Prince Namjoon came along and took me in before I could be killed.”

Taeyhung’s eyes were slightly wide, “I see. How awful... I’m sorry that happened to you.”

You gave him a pained smile, “No worries. What happened, happened; it cannot be undone.”

“That is true. Let’s change the subject, yeah? I’m of my twenty-first year, and you?”

It took you a second to realize that he was asking for your age. But once knowing that he was twenty-one, you also immediately calculated the year you were currently stuck in.

Taejo was born in 877, and founded Goryeo in 918, making him thirty-one years of age when he did so. He had his first son, Seokjin, when he was twenty-eight, and Namjoon when he was thirty. Then he had his youngest, Taehyung, when he was thirty-one. That meant that the current year was 939 CE. You bit your lip upon remembering that Taejo of Goryeo died in 943 at age sixty-six, and Kim Seokjin died in 940 at age twenty-five.

All the more reason not to get attached to anyone of the royal family, or anyone of this time. You were going to have to go home eventually.

“I am of my twentieth year,” You murmured.

         * * *

You’ve been in Goryeo for a month now. You smoothed out your dress as you greeted Prince Taehyung at a bridge near the palace.

The youngest prince and yourself had grown very close in your time here. You didn’t like to think about it. Especially now that you were catching feelings for him.

“Y/N!” He called, a large smile on his face as he gently set his hands on your arms, “How are you? I just finished an inscription I’d love for you to read over for me!”

Taeyhung wanted to be an artist and a scribe. You saw that the doctrines and biographies of the prince that you’d read did not lie – this was truly his passion.

“I am well, Taehyung, and I’d love to read over your writing. I’m sure it’s just as amazing and beautiful as the last one I read.”

“You flatter me,” He giggled, taking your hand, “Come, I wish to show you something!”

You laughed as he tugged you along, blushing lightly from the contact.

He lead you to the stables, where he let go of your hand and held the reins of a horse instead. The majestic creature had been saddled and ready to go – he must’ve prepared this.

He grinned at you and you gave him a nervous smile in return. Namjoon had attempted to take you on a horse ride a couple weeks ago, and it did not end well. You had to scrub mud out of your hair for fifteen minutes straight.

Taehyung took you by your waist and lugged you on the horse, making you squeak and hold onto the saddle for dear life. He laughed at your uneasiness and hopped on behind you, taking the reins in his hands and gently willing the horse to begin walking forward.

“You’re cute,” The prince muttered, looking down to give you a cheeky smile.

You blushed lightly and puffed your cheeks, “Did Namjoon tell you what happened last time I was on a horse?”

“Yes,” He answered coolly, “And Namjoon can’t ride a horse to save his life. He’s very clumsy, the last person I’d trust to take me horse riding. Relax, I’ve got you.”

You sighed and nodded, leaning back into Taehyung’s chest and watching the scenery as the two of you rode down a path. The silence was not awkward, but comfortable. You felt the young man set his chin atop your head at a point in the ride, and smiled to yourself.

You were enjoying this too much.

Your smile turned bitter.

         * * *

Three weeks later, you found yourself in the royal library, looking in the ancient books for anything that could help you get home.

You were starting to fall in love with this place, and you couldn’t allow yourself to do that. You had a family back home, and it would be wrong to leave them. It would be even more wrong to possibly alter history further than you already have.

Your biggest problem, one that you had to face, was that you’d fallen in love with Prince Taehyung.

While flipping through the pages of the olden literature, you found an old legend; a natural phenomenon that seemed to cause something not-so-natural.

It was said that the sun became too powerful for eyes to bear, causing anyone who looked right at it to go blind or have severe sight problems. It happened once in a blue moon, and once, during this strange occurrence, a woman dissipated into thin air while standing on a bridge. The very bridge you met the prince on a few weeks ago.

It didn’t take you long to figure out what this was; a solar eclipse. A partial solar eclipse.

Instead of the area getting dimmer, which it does in the slightest, the sun seems to become more powerful as staring into it can burn your retina and/or your cornea.

If you remembered correctly, this happened over Goryeo on the seventeenth of September in 939.

That was in two days.

Suddenly, you knew; this was most likely your way home.

         * * *

Later that night, you called for Prince Taehyung to join you in your room. You paced back and forth until a soft knock rang out, causing you to take a deep breath before opening the door. There stood the prince in all his glory, his face seeming worried.

“Are you all right?” He asked frantically, looking at your appearance.

“Yes,” You responded, biting your lip, “Come in.”

You closed the door behind him when he walked inside and sighed, facing him, “I’ve been lying.”

“W- What?” He croaked, his eyes wide.

“I am not from a place far away. Well, I am but... I am not from this time, Taehyung. The city of Seoul is not that far from where this palace stands, but it is more than one thousand years in the future.” You explained, searching his eyes for any signs of hostility.

“Are you saying you’re from the future? Y/N, did you hit your head or something? Shall I take you to a doctor?” He moved to hold your hands, still worried.

“No, Taehyung. Here, I- I can prove it,” You pulled away from him to fish out your bag and old clothes from where you stashed them all that time ago under the bed, lying them on top of the mattress.

“That clothing, and that bag. They are not from this time. Have you ever seen anything like them?”

“I-” The prince stammered, shaking his head, “No, but it could be from another country. Not the future.”

You huffed and opened the bag, taking out the contents: more clothing from your time, your bright pink water bottle, your phone, and its charger.

“What are those?” Taehyung asked, leaning over them.

You took your phone and powered it on, causing the man to jump in place as he watched the Apple logo appear on the screen.

“This,” You said, “Is technology. It’s called a phone, specifically an iPhone. That rubber-like chord, there, gives it power. See? Tell me this isn’t futuristic.”

The ancient prince blinked, watching as the device powered on, “I.. cannot give any other explanation. I suppose it would also explain why you suddenly showed up at the palace... I believe you,” He turned his gaze to meet your eyes making you smile.

You set the phone down and gingerly wrapped the man in a hug, which he returned enthusiastically.

“Taehyung,” You mumbled into his chest, “I have to go home soon. I have to leave.”

He let go and held you by your shoulder, pushing you back only slightly, “Soon? H- How soon?”

“Two days,” You mumbled, looking down.

Taehyung’s face crumbled as he stared at you with pained eyes. He took his hands off of you and reached into the pocket of his silk robes, “I.. wanted to give you something. I was saving it for.. A little later on, but now I want our time left together to last.”

You snapped your scrutiny up at him, “What.. What is it?”

He fished something out of his pocket and held a ring between his fingertips, it was covered in emeralds, rubies, and other rare jewels. Your eyes widened as he smiled shyly, “This belonged to my mother. She told me to give it to the one I wished to marry. I want to marry you, Y/N.”

You blinked, attempting to register the situation. Of course, in this time, there wasn’t really courting; it was marriage. Usually arranged marriages, like the one Taehyung was supposed to get later in life.

“I’ve grown to be attached to you... And I want- wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But now, I want you to accept the ring, not to marry me, but to take it back with you and... Remember me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, stepping closer to him once again, “I’ve developed romantic feelings for you as well. I tried to push them away because of course, my departure is inevitable but I just.. Can’t.”

Taehyung stepped closer to you as well, so that your chests were touching, and gently slipped the ring on your finger while searching your eyes with his, “I’ll never forget you, okay? None of us will.”

“I’ll never forget you all either,” You sniffled, tears beginning to fall.

The prince gently shushed you, wiping your tears before cupping your face and planting a soft kiss on your lips.

You were going to miss him. You were going to miss Goryeo.

This was going to be harder than you imagined.

         * * *

After looking into the books a bit more, you discovered the exact time and place you had to be to leave for good. And so, at high noon, you changed back into the clothes you arrived in and snuck out of the palace, knowing that anyone who saw you would order you to change immediately.

You let the king know the night before that you would be making your departure. You thanked him for the longer-than-planned hospitality and quickly scurried away, intimidated by the founder of Goryeo.

You asked Taehyung to meet you at the bridge before you had to leave, and as you arrived and saw no sign of him, you sighed. You couldn’t wait; it was now or never.

You stepped in the middle of the bridge and looked at the partial eclipse, the bright sun hurting your eyes. You watched as your fingertips began to disappear and bits of solar light surrounded your body.

This was it.

Suddenly, you heard a loud, deep voice call your name. An all too familiar voice.

Whipping your head in the direction of said voice, your eyes widened upon seeing your love running towards you, tears in his eyes.

“Taehyung,” You mumbled as he hugged you, careful not to knock you out of the spot you had to be in to leave. He sobbed on your shoulder, you would’ve run your hands through his hair, but they, along with your arms, were disappearing.

“I don’t want you to leave. Please... Don’t leave me.”

“I have to,” You cooed, “I’m sorry.”

He released you from his death grip, watching as you dissipated before his very eyes.

“No,” He whimpered, capturing your lips in a needy, passionate kiss.

He let out another sob as he pulled away, watching as your crying figure continued to fade.

“I love you,” The prince whispered, watching you with helpless eyes.

“I love you too,” You gave him a soft smile through the tears.

And then, you were gone.

         * * *

It’s been a year since you travelled to the time of the Goryeo Dynasty. You wrote a very successful book titled Through Time, There Was You. You’re currently at a signing event which includes a Q & A session, which is taking place right now.

“Ms L/N! Was there an inspiration for this book?” A woman asks.

You smile brightly and hold the microphone to your lips, “Yes, in fact, there was. A personal experience, followed by the painting done by Kim Taehyung of the Goryeo Dynasty. His most famous piece, of a maiden disappearing while standing on a bridge, surrounded by lights. The one titled ‘Her,’” You play with the jewelled ring on your finger as you wait for the next question, twisting it and running your opposite thumb over the emeralds.

A middle-aged man asks the next question, “You mention the Goryeo Dynasty a lot in Through Time, There Was You. Do you have a connection to it?”

“Ah,” You hum, thinking, “Not directly, no. But I have always been fascinated with it and any of my friends can tell you that I’ve always been a history nerd, especially when it comes to Goryeo. You could even say I went there once,” You grin cheekily.

“Okay,” The manager of the event says loudly, “We have time for one last question. You, young man with the blue jacket in the back.”

Said man makes his way to the front with a microphone in hand. Upon seeing him, you furrow your brows a bit. He looks awfully familiar, if only you could place it...

He has dyed dark brown hair that’s a bit long, like a mullet. Smooth, tan skin, and even lips that curl into a boxy smile. He’s wearing ripped jeans with a silk dress shirt, black Gucci shoes, and a blue Gucci jacket. You’ll hand it to him, he has style.

When his teary eyes meet yours and his voice rings throughout the library, your eyes go wide and you almost drop your own microphone as tears well in your eyes as well.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

You bite your lip as the two of you gaze at each other for a few seconds. You know then; it’s Taeyhung.

You then break out into a huge, dumb smile, and bring the microphone back to your lips, “I do now.”

---

masterlist / rulebook / request

[mutantmorphingpotions]

The Invited

Invite a demon into your home and you’ll never know when you’re alone.

Commentary, feedback and notes very welcomed

(1,938)

It had been sitting on top of the wardrobe for the past few hours. Aleksei found himself casting panicked glances over his shoulder every time he heard a sound, a possible noise of a hoof against hardwood. He double checked doors and locked and dead bolted them before trying to relax only to find that god awful THING perched up somewhere, leering down at him with that smile. That sharp tooth saliva shined smile, horns nearly scraping the ceiling, hunched over like some malevolent gargoyle. It kept a rather stable shape, telling Aleksei what he already knew, that it was powerful and had true rank in the hellish community. Tall, towering, it often had to stoop to get thru doorways because of it's stature. He couldn't make out the entirety of it's form, it seemed to be more like a moving shadow at times, but he could see the outlines of it's muscular yet lean body, thick cascading hair that it'd curl around fingers and teasingly tug at times when idle.

He should have never welcomed it into his home; the price to pay for amateur summoning of powerful demons, coughing blood up for weeks on ends, the migraines, the dizzy spells and the demon lingering with him not having a clue how to give it a proper dismissal. The price to pay for his pathetic whims.

Aleksei watched as slid down and moved around the room, curiously, not necessarily interested in the portly skeith at the moment, but rather in the room in general. It slunk past the bookshelves, running clawed fingers across the spines of the books he had collected. Accounting books, architectural texts, novels he kept on hand to read on rainy days. One shelf now dedicated to the things he had collected for the sake of summoning this beast. It took pause and seemed to recognize something among them. Aleksei could see a shine of interest in those damned eyes.

Those eyes, those marvelous eyes. Deep red wine against tar black scelra. Those eyes, always half hooded in a mildly seductive look almost mixed with a sort of sleepy gaze.

It brought a knot in his throat he wasn't familiar with and didn't quite like. Aleksei watched from the corner of his eye, keeping his head trained down on his mindless work, but trying to also mind the creature. It dragged a long finger down the spine and up again, slowly pulling the book out. Its tail flipped about back and forth on the ground like a cat's. It thumbed thru the text, Aleksei could see it's eyes moving slowly, could it even read or was it just looking at the pictures? Of course the creature could probably read, from what he had wearily researched, most of these texts and guides were written by the demons themselves-eager to make themselves useful and available to foolish mortals like him.

"They certainly captured my likeness most pleasingly for magicians with their brains blown to the clouds with herbs and recreational brews." He finally heard it purr. That voice so deep and rich. It was like velvet, reverberating in the room. Aleksei didn't answer it, he wasn't sure if it was a redundant question or not, he kept silent instead. "Perhaps if they're still alive and willing, I can praise and pleasure these artists to show my gratitude. Such talent should not go unnoticed."

Aleksei said nothing. Ignore it and it will go away. Eventually it will go away. It had never worked before, it was a being who knew no real tire when it came to him.

Aleksei quietly cursed himself as he noted an adding error somewhere earlier on in his work and his attention had turned away from the entity for a few moments. That is until he felt that hot breath inches from his face when he finally did look. Arms lazily draped around his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, those soft hooded eyes gazing at him with interest.

"Leave her." It sounded more like a command than anything else. "Leave that wench, she has done nothing to you but break your heart again and again. And you are left here to tape and glue it back together just to obediently hand it back to her." Aleksei felt that thick knot form in his throat again as the subject once again was brought up. His unfaithful wife, whom he had assumed rather happy with the way she had acted and talked and spent money for years, had taken with another not once-but twice. Twice, despite his kindness and his affections for her, twice despite everything he had ever done for her since their union, since their wedding vows, since the beginning of their courtship years ago. Twice and Twice, had given another two children-children who in spite and anger and in fear and panic, divorced themselves from the family, the last command between parent and child being 'Don't ever come near us again'. Children sired by the beast, the entity, the demon that practically sprawled itself on Aleksei's desk, huskily demanding him to abandon his bride of nearly 26 years.

With just those two words, the Demon had made a very compelling argument.

"It doesn't work that way." He finally managed to stammer out and find his voice. He could feel the heat from the demon's body radiating off like a hot piece of iron.

"She betrayed you."

"You tempted her to do so and she found herself weak." Aleksei tried to defend.

He watched as those sharp teeth pulled into a thin closed mouth frown.

"I do not tempt. I simply lay offers down on the table. And if the will is too weak to say no, then who is to truly to blame."

"If a hunter lays down a bear trap and a hiker walks into it, it is the hunter's fault for laying it down the first place." Aleksei huffed crossly.

The demon pulled away it's arms off him, finally giving him space. But rather than pull away off the desk, it crawled further up until it sat right across from Aleksei legs spread and dangling off the table-in a single fluid motion, the demon could easily straddle him and have him pinned against the chair. But it remained stoic, unmoving. He could see more detail in the beast now. He could see the strange stone ornament on the center of it's forehead that resembled and eye, he could see the red gradient from the base of it's black horns that grew brighter and a sharper red color the closer to the base of it's skull. He could see it's powerful thighs and goat like hooves and how sharp the tips were. He could also better see the fact that it was undoubtedly, very unquestionably very very VERY male.

"Need you wander around unclothed all the time." Aleksei inquired, leaning back in his chair away from the demon, afraid it might taint him somehow.

"What is the fun of wearing clothes? You just end up taking them off later." The demon sulked. "Of course, unless you want me to put something on just to take it off for you." The voice was a purr again, silky and seductive, it's hand against it's cheek and biting down on a finger, baring sharp teeth.

"I find that if you insist on following me about in my own home, you should at least WEAR something to give yourself some form of decency."

"That implies I have any decency to begin with." The Demon threw back it's head, laughing. Aleksei felt that knot in his throat again, such rich deep laughter. Almost villain like but so charming. The smell emanating from the demon was intoxicating, almost perfume like, the smell radiating further as it tossed it's thick luscious hair. It smelt so sweet, almost like roses and vanilla, a warmth to it that made him feel at home. Granted, he was home, but the smell made him feel safe, like nothing would harm him.

"You deserve better." The Demon had started up again, grooming his emotions with a different direction. "You don't deserve to be hurt like that again. One time was a time too many and she has hurt you three times already." Aleksei couldn't help but to lean forward as the demon softly cooed and talked so sweetly to him. "You deserve happiness."

"It doesn't work that way." He said again, but there was a tremble to his voice, a weak doubtful noise. The demon cupped his chin into it's hands, those sharp nails barely scraping the vital veins in his neck. "I can't leave her, she's all I have."

"I can be yours. All yours. Just yours." Aleksei was practically on his tip toes, just trying to get his eyes to meet the demons. Those eyes taking on a sort of softer lavender pinkish hue, he could see pupils faintly pulsating with life behind it. A thin frown formed upon Aleksei's face as he let his feet rock back down and his face slide away from the demon's hands.

"The summoning book said that 'those who bed with Asmodeus do not belong to him, as Asmodeus claims no property of those who partake in him. Asmodeus belongs to no one as no one belongs to him. For he is a freed creature who loves all but must never be chained.' "Aleksei recited, practically from memory. He had taken weeks spilling over those books picking apart every paragraph, every sentence regarding the beast he had summoned, not wanting to make a single mistake. Not wanting to be a statistic.  "You would never truly be mine. Just as I would never truly be yours. You give your love to the world, but you offer no permanency. No security."

Aleksei had been looking at the ground before he had realized he had taken his eyes off the demon again. He had jerked his head up to see the demon not on his desk, but rather the center of the room. He could see it better now, the skin more defined, the hair thicker and darker, more defined and more THERE rather than an obscure shadow in the corner of his eyes.

It was well dressed, a faded light grey vest and crisp pressed black pants, a deep red shirt of a silken variety and a nice tie. He looked refined, better. If he didn't have a ridiculous looking fur coat draped over his shoulders like it wasn't the middle of spring, early summer. Aleksei could almost feel a laugh bubble out of his throat out of the sight of the ridiculous coat. That is until the demon shrugged upward and let it fall down to his shoulders, in an almost oddly seductive fashion.

"The offer is always on the table." Was the last velvet purr before it dissapeared. It hurt Aleksei's eyes to watch the demon vanish from reality, to lurk elsewhere in the house, his eyes watered and blurred painfully like someone had poked him right in the eye. He slid back down into his chair, heaving a sigh of pent up relief. The air still smelt sweet.

"I'm going to have to burn everything on this desk." Aleksei sighed quietly shifting a hand to rub between his eyes. He could feel a burning migraine forming in the back of his head and his throat burned again. He immediately ripped out the handkerchief, gagging and coughing up more thick blood clots. He frowned at the blood, now ruining his once clean handkerchief.

He should have never welcomed that demon into his home.