#interesting about the inverse for the hair colours

[mudpaw13]

Sorry to burst ya'lls bubble but...

Male Platnium Half-moon(Healthy)

Male Crowntail betta(Healthy)

More of a point would be the hair colour matching the opposite betta possibly due to traits

GURL BYE

[pottedplant53]

Oumota Post [Contains Spoilers]

---------------------------------------------------------------

Something I don’t hear talked about enough in relation to Oumota (or just Kokichi and Kaito in general) is the SHEER NUMBER of parallels that they have with eachother, beyond just their narrative roles. Their philosophies of Faith VS Logic and their respective Hero/Villain personas are undoubtably the most interesting part of it, but there’s so much more to be said than just that. Even their physical appearances are designed to contrast. Here's a list of some of the similarities I found.

-------

•Kaito is tall with broad shoulders, while Kokichi is short with a small frame.

•Their hair colours are almost exact opposites on the colour wheel. On top of this, while you don’t really see it due to their respective hairstyles, they both have roughly shoulder-length hair.

•Tying into the previous point, they have very similar colour schemes. They both wear white shirts, and have red, yellow, grey, and white accents scattered around their outfits. They’re also both heavily associated with the colour purple, with Kaito being more aligned with magenta (pink) and Kokichi being more aligned with indigo (blue).

•Kokichi is especially pale compared to the rest of the cast, while Kaito is noticeably tan.

•Kaito’s eyes are upturned, and Kokichi’s are downturned. I’m not sure how to word it but it’s almost like their eyebrows are going in different directions, too.

•They both wear capes that fan out in their splash arts. Kaito’s is a coat, but it has the same effect.

•They’re both bilingual. Kaito can speak English, Japanese, and Russian thanks to his astronaut training, and while it’s unclear why Kokichi can speak multiple languages, we know that he can thanks to his second FTE with Kaede, wherein he says ‘common sense’ in English, Japanese, French, and Spanish. ‘Common sense’ isn’t a commonplace word that new speakers of a language would know, implying some level of fluency.

•In the original Japanese script, Kaito had quite a few homophobic, misogynistic, and transphobic undertones, all seemingly stemming from internalized toxic masculinity. Kokichi was very much the opposite of this (read: not straight), as is discussed in-depth in the trivia section of his Wiki page. [We do not talk about Japanese Kaito in this household].

•Kokichi’s birthday is the 21st, an inversion of Kaito’s birthday, which is the 12th.

•Neither of them portray themselves 100% authentically. Depending on how you read their characters, you could almost argue that deep down, they’re more similar to the other’s persona than they are to their own.

↓

Though he’s often referred to as an idiot due to his stubbornness in the trials, Kaito is actually rather analytical when he so chooses to be, seeing straight through Maki’s lone-wolf act and understanding her needs startlingly fast. He was intelligent enough to pass his astronaut entrance exam (which would’ve involved extremely complicated scientific concepts and a basic understanding of medicine) and has proved himself willing to cheat and lie to get what he wants (i.e, forging an I.D to get early acceptance).

This isn’t the only instance of him lying when it wasn’t strictly necessary, another notable example being the entirety of his Free Time Events; he lies about his impossible summer escapades and brags about how many famous people achieved success because of his influence, seemingly just to boost his own ego and to make himself look more impressive to Saihara. Shuichi internally calls him out for this, more or less verifying that it was all a lie.

He repeatedly lies in the trials (like when he tried to insist that he was the one in women’s underwear in chapter 2), and of course, hid his illness from the others by pretending he was fine, when in actuality, he was on death’s door.

None of this makes Kaito’s passion and kindness any less real, but it’s important to note how he’s not as saintly as he seems. He’s a lot of things, but he’s also an Egotistical Liar, much like Kokichi promotes himself to be.

Moving on to Kokichi, while it’s hard to say with 100% certainty what kind of person he is, we’ve seen him become emotional a number of times throughout the game, most notably in Gonta’s trial. There’s a lot of debate over whether his tears were genuine or not, but the general consensus is that they were. He shows anger here, at both Gonta, the situation, and more likely than not, himself. He clearly feels a lot of shame and grief, but ultimately continues to push on with his plan for everyone else’s sake.

He shows mercy to Yumeno in chapter 3, when he asks her what she was holding back at the end of the trial. This is seemingly done in an attempt to help get her in touch with her feelings, with no obvious ulterior motives or mocking undertones. Him calling her out earlier in the trial can be chocked up to his hatred of hypocrites – as is seen with his overall relationship with the rest of the cast, specifically surrounding how they gang up on him and treat him like a monster for lying when it’s something that they themselves do – but this interaction shows that he sympathises with her, proving that he has some level of empathy.

Kokichi is EXTREMELY selfless, something that’s proven over and over again to the point that if I sat here and tried to list every example, we’d be here until the release of the V3 anime [forever]. He actively plays devil's advocate, knowing that this would lead to the rest of the group disliking him, and his entire plan to end the killing game centred around villainizing himself, all so that he could die to save the rest of the cast. He’s shown to have spent time, likely days upon days, thinking about how to end the killing game – if his room is any indication, he’s poured a lot of toil into making that a reality. Much like with Kaito, none of this changes how Kokichi chose to act – he’s still a bad person who did inexcusable things, but there’s some merit to the fact that beneath all of that, he’s a human being.

 In the end, he dies as a Selfless Hero, trying to save a group who he surely must’ve known would feel no gratitude for his sacrifice. He's the exact kind of person that Kaito would approve of, were it not for the other, less pleasant aspects of his personality.

--------

Again this is all just my interrpretation and what do I know but I thought it was interesting so here :3

[completeoveranalysis]

[8]

ORIGINAL OUTFITS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

COMING FULL CIRCLE INDEED

Going ALL the way back to their most iconic looks, that speak the most directly to who they are and who they were, and we can SEE the visible differences in their designs. Kurogane’s arm has been replaced, doubling down on his signature colour as he’s become the truest version of himself. And as a FASCINATING parallel to that, his sword is the actual one this time - not a copy or imitation, like HE was before. Haunted by his past as he was, he was a damaged echo of who he was when he was younger, but not anymore. Now Ginryuu is really here and it’s the actualisation of Kurogane BECOMING the Kurogane he was always meant to be. He’s fulfilled his family role by relearning the love his parents taught him, he’s regained his true name by healing from the grief their loss left in him, he has more family than ever before, and now he’s on his way to punish the one who took it all away from him in the first place. Kurogane is PEAK Kurogane. 

And FAI. He’s in his Seresu clothes, but he’s not displaying the damaging lessons Ashura taught him in order to manipulate him into doing what he wanted. Fai isn’t lying anymore - he’s not smiling, he’s not pretending to be happy, the entire facade is gone. He’s showing how he really feels - in a direct contrast to how Ashura taught him to fake smile as the only way to help them since he couldn’t do it with magic. Now he doesn’t even HAVE that magic and he’s helped the people that mean the MOST to him without ever touching it. Fai knows his VALUE now - he knows he is loved, that he loves them back, that that’s ENOUGH, that that ACCOMPLISHES more than magic itself ever did, and that he doesn’t need to fake anything in order to make a difference. 

Also his HAIR is longer. He’s no longer keeping his appearance the same as a facsimile to the twin he wanted to switch places with. He’s healed from that too, moving on as HIMSELF and not just as a living promise that he was manipulated into making in the first place. He’s his own person now, all the chains on him are gone, and there’s nothing in his past looming over every action he takes. He’s free now - and he’s chasing down the man who DID THIS to him in the first place, along with the people he loves. 

OH IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL. 

And then Mokona outlines it for us in words too, because Mokona is still awed by the plot coming back around to the beginning and it’s utterly adorable. Because at this point ME TOO MOKONA.

MEANWHILE I SEE BOOTS AND A CAPE AND I THINK I HAVE THOUGHTS (tm) ABOUT WHAT THIS NEXT PAGE WILL HAVE ON IT

LAVA LAMP DRESSED AS SYAORAN

OH now THAT is interesting

On the one hand it’s a FASCINATING move to make. Because visually? YES, the Syaoran should dress like Syaoran in the beginning of the manga.

But we know now! It’s not the same! This ISN’T the Syaoran we started the manga with! Moreover Lava Lamp NEVER DRESSED THIS WAY. These AREN’T his clothes. He never looked like this! He didn’t grow up in Clow like Syaoran did - though he WAS apparently there, in his Lava Lamp, the whole time. 

And all of THAT is difference enough that we get no other visual signifiers of his growth. His outfit is the SAME because it’s the CHARACTER who’s different. Instead of the clone donning the identity of the original, now it’s the original donning the visual identity of the CLONE. 

And THAT’S an entirely different kind of circle, but I kind of love the inversion of it all. Especially since the last time Lava Lamp left the Clow Kingdom (where he was trapped) he travelled TO Acid Tokyo, in order to hopefully fix Syaoran’s soul. But now Syaoran’s soul IS fixed, and he’s travelling BACK to the Clow Kingdom to find a whole Syaoran instead!

… OH AND HIS EYE. He only has ONE eye in the reaction shot at the end, because that’s an echo of the link he had with Syaoran, and how he ALSO used to have all the single eye imagery that foreshadowed Lava Lamp watching through it his entire life. 

Lava Lamp is the reverse of everything that has happened - the mirror image of things coming full circle, but coming full circle all the same. 

[frenchkanna1808]

hello guys so for day four of kanna month: holyday (made by @daily-bucket-kizuchi) I wanted to take the idea of a holiday and make it something special since i'm not really interested in like doing basic holiday art. So i took the concept of saint valentines and turned it it into a buddy rivalry love angels au!!!

what is this au: it's about a troupe of love angels creatures of romance who work like Cupid to send the flame of love and keep it forever intact, their rivals groups are the heartbreakers whose goals i to take that flame away and bottle it or destroy it away forever. They are both kinda like those omnipotent beings that fight all the time. Kanna is a young love angel that starts her mission, but instead of having a easy first day she meets the terrible heartbreak princess hinako. She decides that she wanna symphatize with her and start a friendship to understand why anybody would do such things has ruining young couples lives. So they start this buddy/rivalry where kanna goes on missions and hinako tries to sabotages it but kanna being a sweet girl tries to become her friend. that the basis of the plot. Under i will put all the references in the design and why i made it that way.

kanna design is inspired by chocolate dipped strawberries, i wanted the design to be inspired by the love core aesthetics without being like entirely cliche pink. Her special staff is where she stores flames of love to give it to two lovers. I used a lot of yellow because i think its a very complimentary colours to kanna honestly there wasn't a real reasons. I had an idea that maybe more time she eveolves on her journey as a love angel her colours become more and more pastel and whiter. Also her loopies are heart shaped because bbg.

hinako design was me trying to fit a demonic aesthetic without being excessive, her hair is shaped like a devil tail. I also didn't wanna have a very emo aesthetic, so i used blue has the inverse of pink to be more subtle. Her outfit is meant to be more strict looking than kanna's. She mainly bottles the flame of loves and put them away, to get the flame she plants her sword down in the heart of the lover and stripe it away. One important things is that heartbreakers are not inherently bad because if love angels truly always won then people would be in love with toxic people. they are like opposites that are needed, but that must be equal.

anyway i may actually draw more on this later on.

[octistic]

What is up with kina in splatoon?

Now I'm no kina expert on kina, so maybe real life kina are super varied. But if not, Isn't it weird how different the splatoon kina look? How come all the jellyfish look the same but KINA of all species look so diverse? Like it's confusing how different they are.

The most obvious thing is the spikes.

So we've got Murch, whose spikes seem to be directly attached to his head like hair.

But then we have Spyke, whose spikes are like a shell

And then we have Murasaki and Kitamura, who just look like kina with googly eyes

They are only seen as album art so this could just be a stylistic way of representing kina like Spyke

But then there's Oonie

And her hair is a shell??

And their EYES. Spyke could hypothetically have two, but it's implied he has one.

Murch DEFINITELY had one

All the kina in the band have two

AND the eye colours are different

Spyke has purple sclera and green eyes, while murch has the inverse

Murasaki and Kitamura have white eyes, although this could just be a stylistic choice

Most interesting are Oonie's eyes, which are pink with white sclera.

And then there's the height.

We know inklings and octolings don't grow freakishly taller than the player character when they grow up, so we can use the height of inklings as reference for kina on album art.

We know that young kina are short because of Murch, and we know that they grow to be much, much taller than inklings and octolings. This would imply that Oonie, Kitamura, and Murasaki are young because they are the same size or shorter than the inklings in their bands. I personally doubt they are meant to be that young, however with Paul being as young as he is it wouldn't be unheard of.

Another trait that kina have are hands. However, Oonie doesn't seem to have hands in the album art. This isn't a stylistic choice either, because you can see the inklings have hands. Oonie is also clearly older than Murch in splatoon 2 and even in splatoon 2 Murch clearly has hands, so it doesn't make sense that Oonie wouldn't. It's made even more clear in this piece of official art:

Oonie doesn't have hands, she has tendrils. And if you look at Kitamura, she also has tendrils! What look like tendrils!

Also, it's less likely that Kitamura and Murasaki are portrayed as kina with googly eyes as merely a stylistic choice because making a stylistic choice like that in a piece like this would be a stretch in my opinion. However it's not impossible.

These are the things that I've noticed about splatoon kina, feel free to add on to this or give possible explanations for the vast differences.

[bluberimufim]

Oh ho ho, now I'm curious, do you have any refs for anyone that might want to draw your OCs? Pictures or specific descriptions or anything of that sort? Just curious...

Thank you for the ask! I'm so glad it interests you!!

Well You See: I'm an artist. I should have references lying around. But if I were to present them, it would be some super sporadic stuff bc I never got around to drawing MOST of my ocs, for some reason...

That being said, I have a few things lying around. I'll post it here and maybe update when I make more.

(Also, I know the digital drawings suck. I have 0 experience with it. I am Trying Very Hard)

This is gonna be Long, so buckle up.

Dystopia WIP:

This WIP was originally concieved at a graphic novel, so I have a few drawings - especially a few rough sketches mapping out outfit shapes and colours. Let's go through the main cast:

Veta, Vi and Veo (aka the Communist Polycule):

Veera:

Alexis Ivanik:

Cristover (left) and Nester Kalenev (right):

I have a post explaining the significance of most of the colour palettes of the 3 WIPs here

Notes on the characters:

Nester, Cristover, and Vi are all guys. They're wearing skirts bc they're Fashionable. Vi has a beard

Vi's outfits are inspired by traditional portuguese costume

idc what you do with Alexis, they NEED to be wearing extremely over-the-top eyeliner at all times

Devourer of Souls:

So here is the Thing. Most characters in this WIP being female is a very recent development. Almost all except for Flick used to be guys. So the only pic of Seth is her as a man. Literally just picture her with longer hair and it's almost accurate.

Seth (very zoomed into a drawing I once made):

(pls don't forget that she's a cane user)

Flick (the people on the sides are Allana and Hunter, the two souls their body houses):

Notes on characters not pictured (Jane and Theo):

Theo and Jane are technically twins, and they have a Snow White/Rose Red motif

Theo has bright red eyes long white hair in a huge braid. She wears all white tends to prefer overalls

Jane has short red hair and white eyes, the inverse of Theo

Black and White

Considering this WIP is my main one and the one I've had the longest, I have shamefully little material on it that I like. And also, I've already reaches the limit on pictures I can post.

I mean, my icon is a drawing of Darius, and there's also the Great Reyna Picrew Show-Down, but otherwise? Almost nothing. When it comes to descriptions, it's kinda vague ig? But let me kinda compile a little bit. Here's the most relevant characters in order of appearance:

Johann:

[...] He was significantly older and dressed much more presentably. His deep black suit had a refined and expensive-looking cut. He carried an old walking stick, which might have been in fashion in the previous century, to complete the look. Besides that, he had a box-shaped camera hanging from his shoulder. His hair was almost completely grey and perfectly combed, which made him look organized and important. When he walked closer, Darius noticed the strange shine in his eyes, his crooked nose, his lively smile. There was no doubt. He looked like all the pictures he'd seen. [...]

August:

He would almost be a perfectly normal person if not for his height. He wasn't a giant, but he had a considerable advantage over most people, although not at the expense of any muscle. His hair was longer than one would normally see in a man, almost shoulder-length. Otherwise, he looked pretty average, dressed in a half-opened shirt and very tight trousers. He couldn't decide if he should categorize him as "weird" or not.

Extra note: he wears a glove on his right hand that he never takes off. I once made a joke about the glove staying on during sex and it's 100% true.

Reyna:

[...] The girl was absolutely enormous. He'd never seen anyone so tall. She was taller than August, who was almost a giant himself. Even without heels, she was taller than anyone he'd ever met. And besides that, she was dressed quite scandalously. Her red dress barely reached the middle of her legs, leaving part of the knees exposed. The skirt was made of various layers of light fabrics, like chiffon and tule, all of them ending in excessive frills. It looked like a flower upside down. The dress had no sleeves, being held in place solely by two thin straps covered in glitter, reflecting the light of the sun. All of her seemed more suited to a burlesque show than a circus.

Diedrich:

His red hair, tied into a ponytail, fell down the side of his neck, like a small flame. He wore a crisp black suit, like any common man would. [...]

I can't believe I never actually described Diedrich. I know he's a POV character but still, wtf??

I mean, I guess there wouldn't be a point in describing him from Darius's or Reyna's POV because Darius spent years collecting pictures of him and Reyna has seen him every day for the past 5 years. But if you want an age range, he's 50 in the main story, just like Johann.

You know what? Hit me up if you want a drawing or better description. I'd be happy to do it for you, if you wanna actually draw him.

(if you're wondering why the descriptions are so weird about fabrics, it's because this is narrated by Darius and he's a tailor - he's really into sewing)

As for Darius himself, he's only ever described as "looking like Alphonse". And what does Alphonse look like, you ask? Johann describes him in relation to Diedrich (a description we don't have), and Diedrich feels no need to describe him because he's literally his son and he's known him since he was born. I need to fix this, holy shit.

Anyway, I hope this gave you better insight into how (some of) my ocs look! And I hope you had fun looking at sketches, zoomed-in pictures and 1 (one) fully fledged illustration of Flick.

Also, feel free to ask if you need more info! I can add it here to paint a more complete picture.

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2024 - Day 3 - Peeping Tom (1960)

He's a peeping tom!

It's the first of our trips back into the days of yore today, back into the space year 1960 and whilst some people may scoff at the notion of watching a film made back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I can very much appreciate it when it brings me examples such as this.

If for no other reason than that certain style you get with movies of this vintage. The above scene is one of the very first things you see in the movie and it's just gorgeous. It's like if Nighthawks was set in a dingy London back alley rather than a Chicago diner. Sure the buildings may be grotty and the refuse flowing freely having long overthrown the shackles of it's bin shaped prison, but the colours really pop off the screen from the oranage lamp lights or the vibrant red of that ladie's dress. Just this one frame alone exudes more atmosphere and life than the whole of Dead 7.

Given this is 1960, I feel like colour film would have still been realatively new and it often seems like people were trying to one up each other with it's use. Everything seems to be filmed in [insert name here]vision and it's not enough to merely have colour, each release has to be more vibrant than the last which can end up looking over saturated if anything. There's something slightly unnatural about the dirty blonde hair colour of our protagnist here, like when you see the zombie in the promo material for the colorised Night of the Living Dead where he seems to have orange hair at times, it just kinda off.

The intro has a unique feel to it as well as we see a lady of the night followed into her room before being set upon with a lust for blood, not passion. Distracting framing aside with the windowed lens type effect, it gives it a found footage type feel which is interesting for the time.

The bulk of the movie does follow a more traditional filming method as we follow Mark, a seemingly nice young man whose closets are certainly full of skeletons, figuratively and almost literally, as his obsession with his camera goes so far as far as creating his own snuff films whilst bumping off his victims.

He even has his own little theater tucked away in a spare room which allows for some more fanstic shots, the juxtoposition of the rest of his life being out in the open whilst his dark secrets live within the shadows of this room.

For as much as this movie does try to build up some degree of sympathy towards Mark when it delves into his past and the sins of the Father that don't appear to have fallen too far from the tree, it feels a little misplaced when it outright shows you he's the killer within the first few minutes. Plus, it never feels like he's conflicted on what he's doing until near the end and he does give off major red flags at pretty much every turn.

It is interesting to look at this in the fullness of time though, especially when this had an apparently turbulent release and was met with scathing reviews that effectively ended the director's career. It's that age old story of what was shocking then is tame by today's standards. Though there are frequent shots of Mark photographing in a boudier type setting, there's no nudity to be seen (though probably still enough skin to worry the Tumblr morality bots) and all the murder scenes are cut away just before the moment of impact. Interestingly though, to me it feels like the impact of the camera itself that Mark carries is an inverse of life today. Whilst obviously every man, woman and child carries a camera with them thanks to modern phones, and filming is promiment with things like social media, just randomly shooting out in the street would probably met with some suspicion and certainly shoving a camera in someone's face would likely result in being invited to shove said camera where the sun doesn't shine. For Mark though, it almost gives him this sense of respectability and influence at times, for instance there's a moment when someone mistakes him for a journalist. This isn't a toy, this is a tool for an artist to capture a work of art and it arguably opens doors for Mark find another unwitting victim.

[onyxangel]

I can't believe no one has added propaganda for Qifrey yet, so allow me to yap about his design for entirely too long. I tried to keep everything as vague as possible, but please be aware that there are a few minor spoilers for the first few chapters in here:

Witch society highly values secrecy and strict rules. You can see two elements of it very nicely in Qifrey's design: He has a large, billowing cloak to hide his hands when he casts (non-witches are not allowed to know how magic works), and also a pointed hat without a brim. Brims are only worn by those practising forbidden magic, and the brims are specifically designed to hide the caster's face. He's also a water-based character, which is represented well in his silhouette and how flowy his entire design is, especially with smaller details like the long ribbon and the fluffy hair. Alongside the grey colour of his cloak, the entire thing evokes the image of a stormy sea.

His design is almost completely black and white, which draws attention to the coloured accents like the golden brooch and buttons, but especially his eye. The eye is important. The black and white dichotomy is also shown with his glasses, which have one transparent and one darkened lens, again drawing more attention to his eye.

Imo, the white and grey exterior with the black shirt underneath is great to show Qifrey's hidden depth, since he is a much more morally grey character than you would first expect after meeting him. The black shirt is very long, going up his neck and halfway up his hands, which makes him seem very closed off. Alongside the general secrecy that comes with being a witch, he also has a personal tendency to keep things to himself.

He has a narrative foil who is the exact inverse of his colour scheme, being dark where Qifrey is white and vise versa. They're complementary.

Going back to the subject of brims again for a second, the design subtly gives Qifrey some brimhat designs without breaking the rules, further showing how morally grey and secretive he is. It's interesting that brims are forbidden for proper witches because they hide the face, while half of Qifrey's face is covered with his hair and his glasses. His hair also puffs up a tiny bit, which doesn't substitute a proper brim, but gives his silhouette just a touch more width at the base of his hat.

Also, when he does something morally questionable, the mangaka makes his cloak billow out around him, which turns his entire silhouette into a brimmed hat.

(And you can't see it in this image very well, but his hat has a little pin in it. Don't worry about it :) )

The 2nd Character Design Tournament

Please remember to vote for characters solely based on their design, rather than which character you are more familiar with or like more!

Qifrey | Witch Hat Atelier

[No propaganda submitted]

Mebh Óg MacTire | Wolfwalkers

Link to propaganda

[goldenchocobo]

I’ve seen a handful of people making drawings of Sora heartless and putting their own unique flair onto his design; so I decide I’d give it a try too.

This isn’t an AU or anything, I just wanted to draw a Sora Heartless.

I did think a bit about how I wanted him to look, so I’ll put those thoughts under a Keep Reading for those interested. For those not- I hope you enjoyed a cute Sora-Heartless!

I made myself a rule that I can't add anything into the design of the Shadow Heartless, only to play around with the shapes and sizes of existing features. Because at the end of day, Sora’s meant to be an ‘Ordinary’ boy who isn’t special, and wouldn’t turn into a super-duper fancy Heartless. I did kind of bend this rule ever so slightly, as I added a faint marking on the chest to represent his Pendant; but I still stuck with the colour scheme, and it's not very visible.

The very first thing I did was try and convey some of Sora’s silhouette. Making the head more of a lemon-shape than a round orb. I did play with the idea of making his eyes more oblong to convey a cuteness and harmless vibe, but I thought that change was too drastic, and instead I just made the shadow heartless’ eyes closer together- and made them emote.

One thing I did want to do was make the antennae cross over one another and form an inverse of his Keyblade’s teeth/crown pattern. I added the extra swish upwards on one antenna to give a bit more personality as well as give him some ‘spikiness’ like his hair would have done.

The last thing I did was make his body more triangular and his legs slightly more goofy-looking to convey Sora’s puffy pants and give him more of a comical look rather than the spindly look of the regular heartless.

[c-h-pictures]

Colour, chracters and abilities in Bungo Stray Dogs

We’re doing three in one, so pretty long. And there’s manga spoilers.

Atsushi and Akutagawa

It’s spoken about quite frequently that Atsushi and Akutagawa are the foils to each other and that is reflected well in their designs. You’ve got Atsushi in mostly white with white hair with a black streak and Akutagawa in mostly black with black hair with white tips. Atsushi’s hair colour matches with the white tiger that his ability takes form as, so there’s not much behind the colouring for his hair on it’s own. With Akutagawa as the inverse of that, it helps show their roles to each other within the story. There’s also the fact that white and black are commonly associated with light and dark, good and evil. It’s rather clear which side is which, given the fact Atsushi is our protagonist. Then we get to the fact they both have the opposing colour in their hair as well, which all comes down to the fact that neither can exist without the other. There’s darkness within Atsushi one of the first examples being that, when he had the choice of running or fights, he took the gun and fired back at Akutagawa. And you could even consider his past part of the darkness within him. At the same time, Akutagawa isn’t pure evil.

This was the first instance in the entirety of Bungo Stray Dogs where we saw a character get killed so that someone else could escape and it was Akutagawa. He could have so easily gotten away alive, but didn’t so that Atsushi could.

And then we get onto their actual abilities.

Rashoumon and the tiger are both creatures of some kind - both of them took a different form to the ability user during Dead Apple. (If we could please look to Kenji’s ability looking like him for the example not given by Akutagawa or Atsushi.)

So, the abilities are similar in what they are, and then contrasting in what they can do. We have Atsushi’s ability regenerating his leg verses Akutagawa’s ability destroying most things. And the colours used for them are a perfect contrast to each other as well, for that. Not only are blue and red often used as contrasting colours despite not being complimentary, when you go through enough layers of colour to get to the blue that closest matches Atsushi’s tiger glow (down to about tertiary colours) the colour for Atsushi is closer to cyan than green and cyan at this level would be the direct contrast to Akutagawa’s red.

Chuuya and Dazai

Once again, Chuuya and Dazai’s ability are the perfect colour contrasts. Dazai’s being very almost cyan and Chuuya’s being red. In addition, their pasts and abilities both have similarities and contrasting parts. Chuuya was pulled into the Port Mafia and Dazai got pushed away but they both found a home fit for them. Dazai’s nullification ability in essence temporaily destroys an ability and Chuuya’s corruption form causes destruction and both abilities are incredibly powerful.

Some frames in the anime that rather interests me when I think about this stuff are these ones

We see very clearly that abilities have their colours and glows. The mass off colours from all the gemstones Shibusawa has being all the ablities he’s collected with his ability and then the glwos of Akutgawa’s, Dazai’s, and Atsushi’s abilities. And then we get this.

Dazai’s ability is obviously being activated because Chuuya’s ability is deactivated and Dazai’s is activated on touch. Yet the only blue glow we get is from the moon. It wouldn’t be too hard for the colour to be distinguished when we get to Dazai’s stomach area since it isn’t against the moon, which gets me, at least, thinking about what Dazai’s ability actually means. We have seen Atsushi and Akutagawa’s abilities combine, so what’s to say other abilities can’t be combined? If Dazai’s ability was combined with something that could leave lasting affect on a large portion of the world, then that’s pretty much it for abilities. They’re gone. And then you get the inverse of Chuuya’s ability getting so massively enhanced for corruption to be something that’s even possible.

Sigma and Yumeno

This is probably where everyone stops following my train of thought, but please stay with me.

The main issue with these two is that we barely know anything about them. But we do know that they both started out their lives imprisoned. Yumeno by Dazai, Sigma by the armed group.

Given Atsushi, Lucy and Kyoka are in their offical colouring, we can safely assume that that is the offical colouring for Sigma’s hair and eyes. Looking at hair and eyes, Yumeno and Sigma are complete inverts of each other. They both have half white hair, but the other side. Sigma’s coloured part of hair is a pale lilac, whie Q’s is a dark brown. Sigma’s eyes are plain while Q’s have multiple colours and detail in them. Then we look at their abilities, both an ability that, at description, sounds tame, but can be incredibly dangerous. Q’s causes hallucinations. That doesn’t sound like something that can cause too much damage, you can get past once it’s nullified like any other, but we’ve seen the drastic affects it can have and it’s clearly done something worse before for Dazai to lock Yumeno away. Sigma’s is information exchange, which again doesn’t sound too dangerous, but information is everything. Because of that ability, no one knows what Sigma could know. Sigma could have all the information to kill everyone and no one would know because they would only know what he gave them in exchange, not what he took. There is clearly a reason Dazai chose Sigma at the end of chapter 96 and that is most likely his ability. There is clearly a reason Gogol saved Sigma and that is most likely his ability. But no one will ever know exactly what Sigma has gained with his ability.

Unfortunately, we don’t know any more about Yumeno or Sigma, so I don’t have enoguh to keep going with it on them at the moment, but maybe we’ll learn more and I’ll be able to add to this.

[briarruler]

Straight up colour inverted ghost forms.

I did the inversion on their normal clothes. I wasn't sure what to do about their skin, so I left it out, although I assume skin would gain a blue tone.

Danny

White hair. Orange eyes. Black and green top. Orange jeans. Green and black shoes.

Sam

White hair. Yellow eyes. Red hair tie. White and yellow top. White and red skirt. Yellow leggings and lips. White boots, wrist bands and choker.

Tucker

White hair. Orangish-red eyes. Green beret. Purple top. Brownish-orange backpack with white straps. White framed glasses and belt. Red pants. Bluish shoes.

Jazz

Blue hair. Orange eyes. Yellowish-green lips. White top and shoes. Orange hair band and pants.

Description only because I have no artistic talent. This has probably been done before, so I would be interested in links to similar posts, especially if they include fanart.

Jazz, Sam, Tucker and Danny were being contemplated because of Three for the Portal but I might has well do more of the cast.

Valerie

White Hair. Red eyes. Yellow lips. Blue and purple earrings. Purple top, socks, first bracelet. Blue hair band, necklace, skirt and second bracelet. Black shoes.

Vlad

Black hair and beard. White eyebrows. Orange eyes. Black shirt and buttons. White jacket, pants and shoes. Green tie and pocket square.

Jack

White and black hair. White and red goggles. Blue jumpsuit with a purple circle on each shoulder. White collar, gloves, zip and boots.

Maddie

Blue hair. Yellow eyes. Yellow-white eyebrows and green lips. White and green goggles. Orange jumpsuit and hood. White collar, gloves, belt and boots.

One could try and do all the human characters but I'm stopping at these eight who are most involved in ghostly shenanigans.

[cafeleningrad]

Hey, I hope it's fine with you to add to your post because I was also wondering if the eye colours were significant of not. So, I'm on my first rewatch of the series, after I watched Penguin Drum. The latter title really convinced me that Ikuhara is incredibly detailed in his design and composition direction. At the same time, on the Utena rewatch, I was wondering if I read too much into the eye colour, too. On the other hand so much in the Ohtori student council circles around the colour wheel that I do think some aspects about it aren't entirely misplaced. So, I think each character's signature colour represents a certain position within buying into "prince-princess" dichotomy, dictating their mode of thinking. While the hair colour and clothing colour are the biggest colour code markers, the eye colour could reference the "stance" certain characters have on the gender dynamic. My theory needs some developement though. By example (theory still in the making): Miki's colour are light blue. He has a very idealized, if not false vision of the past, and thinks about women in a "Modanna-Whore" way. He thinks less about the woman herself but what how he wants to see them. Utena has blue eyes, and also has a very naive way to overlook Anthy's authority and place each other in the binary "prince-princess" dynamic. For Saionji and Anthy the inversion of eye colour could correspond to the fact that both have more less seen through Akio's system. (Saionji notes in ep.1 already how the Phantom castle is a mere trick, his violent actions against Anthy just betray the prince as having ultimate power over the princess, although Saionji still needs to understand that he's forcing himself to be interested in Anthy by going through all (hetnorm) motions. Anthy knows what's up and merely performs the role pushed onto her.)

Your idea how Touga and Anthy have resonant colour palette is very intriguing to read. the first idea coming into my mind: Both are victims of familial, and sexual abuse who only perform their role because it's expected of them. If you've time, I'd be very curious to read your thoughts on it.

Hey, Someone gonna point out how anthy and saionji have the opposite hair and eye color?

Saionji : purple eyes, green hair

Anthy: green eyes, purple hair

Also! Touga has red hair and purple eyes. What are the two most noticable colors of the rose bride(anthy)? Purple(hair) and red(dress).

I have a lot more of this to say but i have no motivation now

[collisiondiscourse]

on the wonder duo (part 1)

(BNHA Analysis Post Ahead! This isn’t explicitly romantic, but it is an analysis of the relationship between the two most popular characters in BNHA--Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya. Split into two posts because I realized that this was gonna be long as HELL)

yall ever think about the fact that the wonder duo is perfectly set up in so that bakugou and deku together are the better version of all might?

bc like. ive been thinking.

everyone knows the win to save and save to win parallel. How they are supposedly two halves of a whole perfect hero (which, previously, was defined as all might)

but ever since bakugou and deku started working as one—growing together to win AND save and continuously reminding each other that they shouldnt try to do things alone, ive realized that its BECAUSE theres two of them that they surpass all might. its not a case of deku and bakugou both being 50% of an ideal hero, but rather i think that they are 100% of what all might SHOULD HAVE BEEN from the very beginning.

as early as the AM v AFO battle in kamino, we see the effects of all mights flawed existence. the fact that he, the greatest and supposedly infallible symbol of peace, was destroyed—society had begun to collapse. there was suddenly no pillar to hold people together and the impacts were so severe that even in the latest chapters of mha it keeps on getting worse. the truth is, all mights biggest mistake was the burden he placed on his own shoulders

with bakugou and deku... its different.

its different for them because down to their attributions, they seem like two halves of a whole person.

i think that the wonder duo are going to surpass all might because of the fact that they work together.

@bakugoukatsuki-rising @svpercraigus @tybee​ @isaustraliaathing​

(batshit crazy and conspiratorial essay under the cut !)

1. Complementary Colors

I’d like to first preface literally everything I say by the fact that I am not an expert analyzer or literary major in any way. I am literally just some random fan on the internet who has wayyy too much time and looks wayyy too deep into things, but here we go!

A common thing we see when we talk about bakugou and deku is the way they are... sort of an inverse of one another.

Down to the design of their features and the way they move, Deku is the obviously softer of the two. There’s an intentional contrast between the two of them, in the way that Deku’s drawn with round shapes and curvy hair and the way Bakugou is literally all spikes and half-mast eyes and rough muscles. Bakugou’s movements too are languid and showy, with the way he leans when he walks and splays his legs and kicks open doors. Katsuki, in a casual sense, is loud and dramatic. 

Deku on the other hand s finicky. He jitters when he walks and he’s often fidgeting and mumbling. Comparatively, the aura he radiates is energetic and frenzied, even self-conscious to a point unlike Bakugou’s calm and confident movements.

the point is, there’s a clear difference in how either of them are designed and what exactly they are supposed to represent. They utterly complement each other down to the way they behave and even their main colors (red-orange and blue-green) being literal complementary colors.

Now, moving to my more ungrounded points, this is quite a bit of a stretch so I’ll try as much as possible to make sense of these with hyperlinked sources because. yeah.

Down to their names, I think Deku and Bakugou both symbolize something deeper. I think that the way Hori expresses characters and what they’re meant to do is something that we have to pay close attention to when we talk about the Wonder Duo’s rise to success.

Izuku Midoriya (緑谷 出久), as some of us may know, does have an interesting meaning when broken up. According to a lovely fan translation of his name, ‘Izuku’--while not an actual name used commonly in real life--means to ‘Come out’ or ‘Long time’. ‘Midoriya’ on the other hand means (Midori) ‘Green’ and (ya) ‘valley’. The translator further pointed out that his first name ‘Izuku’ could be a reference to him being the first legendary hero to come out of the long-running All Might Era. (or, if you’ve been reading @/bakugoukatsuki-rising’s posts, the first significant anime protag in a long while to come out as queer, ppfft)

but that isn’t my focus right now.

We know that Hori LOVES telling stories with names, and more often than not in the BNHA universe, names alone tell us a lot of things about the characters. When referring to Izuku’s last name, Midoriya, it’s important I think to step back and realize that hey, maybe there’s something more to Green Valley than just the fact that his motif is all green.

After searching for a lil on the specifics of green valley, I’ve found out that across many cultures, the colour green and valleys in general tend to represent life. From dream analysts, to Christianity, and even old Taoist teachings, valleys are seen as areas of fertility and escape. They are seen as safe havens and often escapes for people to come to after running away from bad circumstances.

(Sound familiar?)

Deku, in essence represents life and peace. He represents being the “salvation” that the world in BNHA needed. To me, it sounds like Horikoshi is trying to say that he is the long-awaited hero in the sense. The one that people can feel will create a society that feels safe for everyone after years of All Might just saving people from themselves as a band-aid solution.

On the other hand, we have Katsuki Bakugou (爆豪 勝己), who’s name we commonly know means (Katsuki) Winner and (Bakugou) Explosion Master. He is essentially, the champion. The power. His name means success and power and all the things that make up winning.

When putting them side by side, it then becomes increasingly... interesting to me how their names almost perfectly slot into All Might’s save to win and win to save mantra, and how they are both quintessential parts to what made All Might as a hero.

2. Hero Too!

Now, I’m not even gonna really TOUCH much of what happens in canon. If you want me to do a step by step breakdown of their arcs in regards to the plot of manga and anime, feel free to send me a gratuitous ko-fi tip so I can pay for the headache I get after trying to organize my thoughts into word vomit.

What I WILL talk about on the other hand, is the subtle shift both of them slowly have in regards to how they look. Bakugou and Deku, while growing up, seem to have MANY many parallels--but before I elaborate on all of that, I wanna talk about something else.

Detour: Deku’s Red Shoes 

We all know the iconic symbol being Deku’s red shoes. For all his life, save for some outfits like his hero one, we see Deku more often than not wearing his signature red sneakers which have become a running joke in fandom.

But the funny thing is, in Japan, red shoes seem to have an interesting connotation.

In 1922, a popular Japanese nursery rhyme was written, called “Red Shoes”. The interesting part to me about this song was the symbolism that, in my tiny pea-sized brain, I could connect to the story of BNHA.

The story goes that there was a little girl with red shoes named ‘Kimi’. She was from Shizuoka prefecture (which, if you didn’t know, is most likely where Musutafu supposedly is) and was raised by a single mother. When she was young, her mother had to entrust her with a foreigner under the impression that they would give her a better life in America. The stranger is a man named Charles Hewitt (who was described to have blue eyes) and supposedly took her away. 

The singer of the song (supposedly the mother, but some argue it was written from the perspective of a childhood friend) believes that Kimi is happy and living a better life away from them, when the reality of the situation was much worse. The young girl with red shoes in actuality had Tuberculosis, and thus the foreigner whom she was entrusted to had left her to fend for herself and eventually left her to go to America while she died alone and orphaned.

“When I see red shoes, I think of her.”

A very interesting story with very interesting implications indeed.

-

Anyway, moving on to the more... “nuanced” and connected parts of this section, I have every reason to believe that Bakugou and Deku were simply MEANT to be working together down to how they dress. Now, I’d like to discuss their hero costumes.

At the start of their series, using these godawful pics for reference, it’s clear to see that neither of them seem alike in any way--reflecting the dissonance in their relationship at that point in canon.

ough. deku why. (yes we know why its because you love your mom you stupid little bunny <3)

Anyway, we see an immediate gap in how the two of them are. Deku’s first costume is one that reflects how he treated his dream of being a hero. He was still in that childlike idolization phase, the one where his dreams and aspirations were hinged on pure feelings and inspiration from All Might. Katsuki on the other hand was a lot more tactical--professional to an extent. The gap between their respective development with their quirks is something that is clearly felt in every fashion decision they’d made.

(Notice how Deku’s green is a lot brighter and less like the green accents Katsuki has all over his costume.)

As time progressed however... their costumes changed. The colors, the silhouettes, the practical functions, most things.

(Deku’s Gamma Costume and Bakugou’s Winter Costume used respectively)

we begin to notice a few similarities.

As the show goes on and we see more evolutions of their costumes, it almost seems like they begin to look like a matching pair. Deku’s green grows darker and almost teal in nature, while Bakugou’s orange is veering towards red territory. This is important to note because red-orange and blue-green as I said earlier were complementary colors as compared to simply orange and green. The minute shift is something I really wasn’t quite sure was intentional, but something I find interesting to pick up nonetheless as the colors they used to accent their costumes begin to match up.

Secondly, I think and important thing to note is silhouettes. The way that both Bakugou and Deku’s costumes are designed follow a lot of parallels that typically we don’t see with the rest of 1-A. For one, they both have a combination of tight long-sleeved tops with a bulkier set of bottoms. They also share the use of utility belts and metal pieces typically worn around their necks. Deku has his bunny-eared hood that mimics All Might’s hair, while Bakugou has his orange and black explosion ear-pieces that mimic his own quirk.

i don’t think any other people in class 1-A match each other as subtly yet strongly as these two. Uraraka and Deku and Bakugou and Kirishima do come close however.

“But Codi, you fucking knob!” I hear you plea. “This is such a reach and tells us practically NOTHING!” And yes, I’m inclined to agree with you! You’d be sort of right in the idea that this is a reach. Maybe I am looking too much into this, and maybe it really isn’t that deep--but I do think that them subconsciously matching outfits means something quite brilliant.

In the way that their costumes are designed, each aspect of either outfits have a very logical explanation. The changes were strategic and made with their fighting styles vividly in mind, so what that tells me is that BECAUSE these costumes are so complementary or similar in nature (Bakugou’s reinforcing his arms while Deku reinforces his legs), these two are implicitly showing the audience that their combat styles are complementary as well. 

The evolution of their design choices and similarities tell us that even unknowingly, their minds line up in strategy on the battlefield--a clear exhibit for why they would be INCREDIBLY POWERFUL as a Hero Duo to begin with.

When I look at their hero costumes side by side, I see a mirror. I see the way that these two are reflections of each other and are strong where the other isn’t. The point I see in BNHA repeatedly is that EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS. Nothing is infallible, regardless of how hard you train or how powerful your quirk is. Everyone will always have a weakness, but the significant difference I see when fandom discusses the future of Pro-Hero Society is that the new generation is finally raising itself to be RELIANT on each other. 

Observing their fighting styles and the simple use of their quirks, its obvious that they are indeed two parts of a whole hero. Bakugou, who’s quirk emphasized his arms and hands and the power that comes from it, while Deku who’s quirk now emphasizes his legs and lower body and the way he’s always running to save people.

IN CONCLUSION:

As they become heroes, it is easy to assume that if nothing else, Bakugou and Deku will cover each other’s weak spots (especially when you consider the way Deku probably won’t be able to keep using his arms with the way both the anime and manga are going...) (also chapter 285, anyone?)

-

Part Two: Interactions, OfA

kofi || commission details

[lesetoilesfous]

sensory overload with fenders for the bad things bingo? (specifically fenris, if you’re up for it)

Godddd I had too much fun with this and I very much hope you enjoy it. Also I hate with a burning passion the fact that Hawke can give Fenris back to Danarius. I hate it so, so much.

@badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Dragon Age 2

Prompt: Sensory Overload

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Sensory Overload, Slavery, Panic Attack, Vomiting

Pairing: Fenders (pre-relationship)

Characters: Evil/Red Marian Hawke, Fenris, Anders, Varric Tethras, Isabela, Danarius

Additional Tags: Hawke tries to give Fenris back and the KWC says no thank you, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 1,503

“Take him.”

Fenris feels as if he’s been hit in the head with a sledgehammer. “What?”

Danarius smiles: a slow, creeping sort of smile that Fenris has seen him wear a thousand times. “Interesting. I’ll make it worth your while, of course. The power of the Imperium will be at your disposal.”

Feeling dizzy, Fenris stares at Hawke. Her pale features are set and rigid with cold disdain. “Don’t do this, Hawke. I need you.” The words fall out of his mouth like pulled teeth, dragging at his insides with a sharp ache.

Hawke's lips curl back in a sneer. “You’re on your own, Fenris.”

Everything inside of Fenris collapses. It reminds him of something he’d read, recently - a book by a Qunari philosopher about the stars - a woman who hypothesised that sometimes, when a star died, it collapsed into an inverse of itself, dragging everything around it into darkness. Behind him, Danarius’ voice sounds both far, far too close and impossibly far away.

“What shall it be, Fenris? Will you throw your life away?”

Fenris can’t breathe. He feels is if the floor is swaying beneath him, shaking like a ship at sea. He remembers dancing on these floorboards, with Isabela...Fenris looks up, but the gold and brown and cream of the Hanged Man’s interior is a spinning kaleidoscope of colour. His mouth moves, and his tongue feels numb and fuzzy with static. “No, I will go with you.”

One of the guards moves, and the clanking scrape of their armour sounds painfully loud. Fenris sways away from them as they drop a purse heavy with coins into Hawke’s hand. Danarius speaks again, his voice cutting through the fog of sound and colour, weaving through Fenris’ ears like a thread pulled through his brain. “Lovely! Here’s a token of my appreciation, Champion. I’m sure I can arrange to have something more...appropriate sent along soon.”

The wooden floorboards beneath Fenris tilt, and he finds himself stumbling forwards toward his master and the red-headed elvhen woman, Varania, his sister. Fenris stares at his feet, which seem far too far away from him, and tries to remember how to breathe. His face feels hot, and his lungs are aching, desperate for more air. Danarius smiles, and the hairs on the back of Fenris’ arms and neck lift. “Come along, everyone! The boat leaves for Minrathous within the hour.”

The group begins to move, and Fenris feels as if the entire tavern is folding around him like a Rivaini paper flower. His vision tunnels, surrounded by darkness, but everything is still too loud and too bright and too hot and how had he never noticed the smell in here? Every time he breathes he feels as if he’s inhaling a thick stew of sweat and leather and steel polish and sex and alcohol and piss. He gags, falling forward. Behind him, Hawke doesn’t even move. Beside her, Fenris can’t make out Anders, Isabela and Varric in the blur of colour and noise. He still can’t breathe. The past ten years feel unreal, rapidly fading from his memory like a dwindling dream.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Varric’s drawl is immediately preceded by the familiar thunking of his crossbow, and Fenris thinks for a moment with relief that the rogue is going to shoot him in the head and end this nightmare before it begins. But the bolt doesn’t hit him, or Danarius, and he turns - slowly, too slowly, as if he’s moving in treacle - to see Hawke’s eyes rolling up into the back of her head as she collapses like a sack of potatoes.

Isabela draws her knives. “Oh, thank the Maker.”

Anders swings his staff from behind his back, twirling it in a wreath of blue fire that leaves burning imprints on Fenris’ irises. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Fenris turns back, forcing himself to lift his head despite the ten tonne weight that feels as if it’s resting on him, and sees Danarius’ face twist into a mask of fury. He sees Danarius’ hands claw, and the mercenaries charge, and shades bleed up from between the floorboards of the tavern like oil dragged from the earth. Then everything shatters into a swirling kaleidoscope of shattered stained glass and colour. Fenris can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t hear. Everything is too much: too loud, too bright, every movement feels like a needle in his eyes, every sound like a knife stabbed into his ears. His tongue feels heavy and burning with the overload of spice and salt in the air, and his nose is thick and choking on smoke and sulphur. His heart is thudding so hard in his chest, Fenris thinks he must be trembling with it. Blindly, he moves towards what he thinks might be the door, and doesn’t care if someone stabs him in the back for it.

Fenris makes it three feet into the cool Kirkwall night before he crumples to his knees and vomits, retching again and again until his stomach is spasming and his eyes are burning with useless, burning tears as if he’d pressed his face into a chimney full of smoke. Arms shaking, dripping with cold sweat, he kneels on the cold white sandstone of the street, washed silver by the moon, and shudders until the world stops spinning. It stops slowly, the brightness in his eyes turned unnaturally light, every colour too saturated and too vivid, even out here in the dark. The barking of Fereldan mabari, normally a strange kind of comfort, punches his skull every time they break the night, leaving Fenris shuddering with recollections of Hawke and her mabari and every time he’d saved her life, every time she’d saved his. He’d trusted her.

The sea breeze is too salty on Fenris’ tongue, which feels as if it’s been coated with grease and spices. He spits until his mouth is dry and his throat is sore, and doesn’t know how long it takes before he can breathe easily again.

When, at last, the world is no longer a Fade-saturated parody of itself, Fenris realises two things. First: the sounds of combat from inside the tavern have long since faded. Second: he is not alone.

Slowly, he forces himself to look up from the familiar sets of black and brown boots to Anders and Isabela. Isabela looks uncharacteristically sincere, and Anders’ wrinkled features are creased with worry. Twenty feet away, Varric is talking to a small huddle of Carta dwarves next to a cart with Hawke’s unconscious body. Fenris nearly throws up again, and Anders starts forward, totally ignoring the puddle of bile and vomit on the stone in front of him. Fenris flinches back, violently, and Anders freezes.

Finally, Fenris finds his voice. “Danarius?”

Anders’ jaw tenses, and some of the worry clears from his features. “Unconscious, in chains, supervised by Merrill and Aveline. We drugged him with magebane, too.” Anders hesitates, and glances at Isabela before going on. “We thought - we wanted you to have the final say. On what we do with him.”

Fenris nods, and breathes, pushing himself further away from the sick to sit on the stone. He glances towards Varric and the carta. “Hawke?”

Isabela’s lips purse into a thin line. “Varric drugged her. I say we slit her throat. Varric’s keeping her drugged in a safehouse until we come to a group decision.”

Fenris nods again. The breeze pulls across the open stone courtyard, tugging at Anders’ and Isabela’s hair, and cooling the sweat on the back of his neck. He looks at the pirate, and then the mage. Varric is walking over to them, now, too, Bianca loose in his arms. “Why?”

Isabela’s features flicker, briefly. Anders’ expression crumples. “Andraste, Fenris, because we love you.” He says it so easily. As if it’s something they’ve said to each other before. And then he keeps talking, because it’s Anders, and he always has more to say. “Also, I don’t know if you’ve been listening to me at all for the past ten years but, "the right of every man, woman and child to freedom in Thedas" does, in fact, include slaves. I know, I know, a manifesto about freedom being anti-slavery, it’s improbable right? You’d think I was healing all those elvhen slaves over the past decade with my own sweat and blood and tears for some secret evil agenda. But no, it’s actually pretty simple. Slavery’s one of the foulest, most cursed, pus-infected tumorous boils on the Maker’s taint, and so’s anyone who fucking supports it.”

Fenris thinks it’s a strange world, indeed, that he finds himself comforted by the mage’s rambling. Varric steps forward and reaches out, offering a hand. “What Blondie’s trying to say, Fenris, is that we’ve got your back.”

Fenris hesitates, staring at Varric’s hand, his mind full of Hawke’s bright blue eyes and strong jaw. Isabela unfolds her arms from where they’d been tightening across her chest. “No slaves, no masters.”

Fenris takes Varric’s hand.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 18 - Holy Ghost

Masterlist; Chapter 17

Summary: First few days in Tallinn are like a calm before the storm, while you and Neil are getting used your new dynamic. It proves to be rather surprising...

Warnings: 18+ (yep, she did it again because these two wanted to); swearing.

Author’s Notes: So ummm... I’m not sure what happened here and you’ll be the judges of that. All I can say is that I’ve been inspired by the skewed tie and that Tallinn will take at least two more chapters because they keep getting distracted. Hope you’ll enjoy! Feedback is always welcome as I’m not sure what I’m doing...🙈

The lovely edit has been provided by my amazing and talented friend @sh3tani​ (thanks for putting up with my bs 💕)

Despite technically being a Tenet agent for a while, the dramatic changes of pace in your life never failed to amaze you. After that careless morning in London, mere hours later you got the text from TP, sending you and the Cavalry to Tallinn. Minutes afterwards, Neil burst into your room saying that the younger TP called, giving him directions to run a few lab tests and then to meet him in the capital of Estonia, as well. Neither of you had any clues as to why but then that was rather expected. 

That is how you found yourself in a safe house in the suburbs of Tallinn. For security and convenience, you have joined Ives’s squad there while Neil booked a hotel room nearby to keep up the appearances before TP. For the first few days, the boss has not yet arrived in the city, and therefore, as Neil put it, there was much more room to maneuver. Whatever that meant.

Estonian safe house was a relatively vast apartment on the ground floor of an old brick house. It had six bedrooms furnished with simple Ikea beds, bedside tables, and a small wardrobe. There was also one bathroom (hell of an inconvenience for nine people occupying the place) and a kitchen opening into a living room with sofas and tv. The space was nearly barren save for the objects needed to survive for however long you were bound to stay there. On the day of your arrival, Ives sent you and Wheeler to the shop for the supplies, reasoning being that apparently you two had most brain cells in the whole team. You enjoyed the possibility to charge your introvert batteries before days spent with eight people, of which only two you actually knew. With close to no information concerning the point of the mission, the days have been spent idly chatting, playing games, and watching television. In Estonian, naturally. For you, a crucial part of the survival became continuous reception and the ability to reach out to Neil when needed. Which was often and soon became a passing joke among the rest of the company. Once Henrik tried to steal your phone and ended up with a bread knife pressed against his neck, the innocent fun ended. That was on day two.

Luckily you got your own room, while the others were forced to share. This you owed to the fact that you were not part of the squad and hence had the right to privacy. It proved rather useful the day when unexpected company came. You were busy trying not to burn the scrambled eggs on a scratched-up pan, half humming a song you heard on the radio. Despite the early hour, everyone was up and either moving about or outside on a run. If there was anything you have learned from the experience so far, it was that Tenet soldiers started the day early and were shit at cooking. Eggs, instant noodles, and oven pizzas were the menu staples. Sighing, you picked up the only clean plate left when you heard a commotion in the hallway. Not long after, a voice called out:

“Y/N? You’ve got a visitor” you did not like the amused undertone in that information.

“Yeah…?” hesitantly, you stepped into the hallway.

The cheeky grin was quite the sight at 9 am.

“Good morning, sunshine” you resisted the urge to break the plate on Neil’s head.

At least he brought coffee.

“Hey,” warily you looked at Michael, who was loitering next to you, interested in the situation “Should we…?” looking at the door to your room, you met Neil’s gaze.

“Naturally” he smiled and followed you in.

Only once you closed the door behind you both, blocking out the curious stares, you breathed out the air you did not know you were holding. You set the plate on the bedside table and grinned as Neil carelessly threw himself onto your bed.

“Thought I’ll get a kiss or something for all that awkwardness out there” you commented, eyeing the man sprawled on your mattress.

Briefly, you marvelled at how you have managed to become this comfortable with each other. But then almost having sex was bound to count for something. Supposedly.

“You will if you come here” Neil raised his head and extended a hand in an invitation.

Mournfully you glanced at your abandoned breakfast and crossed the space, intertwining your fingers with his. You were not surprised when Neil pulled you down onto the bed, only just managing not to lie on him. Feigning disappointment, he huffed and leaned in, kissing you slowly. Deepening the kiss, you tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer. With legs interlocked, half-lying on the narrow bed, it was all too real. In moments like this, it was easy to believe that maybe it was meant to be. Breaking up the kiss, you opened your eyes to stare at Neil. In the soft light coming through the opened shutters, you could clearly see the darker rims around his blue irises. In the morning, his eyes resembled the colour of an ocean. The long eyelashes framing the eyes and the eyebrows, furrowed in concentration, gazing back at you. Your eyes then landed on his parted mouth, the corners turned down slightly, and the shape of his lips. You wondered how someone this beautiful could choose you among all the people in the universe.

“Your breakfast and the coffee are getting cold” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Do you want me to get up?” running your fingertips over his temple, you reveled in the intimacy of the moment.

Neil smiled and raised your joined hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Not really. I like having you this close so I can stare” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Same, actually,” you mirrored his expression, dragging fingers through the golden hair.

It seemed like your London evening full of important conversations gave you more confidence. Suddenly it was not that scary to share your thoughts and feelings with him because there was a chance he will understand. Or at least not ridicule you. As though Neil was reading your mind, he asked:

“What are you thinking about?” you could tell he was genuinely interested.

That was enough to make you feel a surge of feelings towards him. Maybe it won’t hurt to say something… Taking a deep breath, you warned:

“Just don’t laugh,”

“I’ll do my best” Neil bopped your nose quickly, making your brain short-circuit for a second.

What even. Focusing all your attention on him, your eyes wandered over his face. Resting on all the features that made him the man you loved.

“Sometimes I just can’t get over how beautiful you are… like a bloody masterpiece” you cupped his cheek “And I’ve no clue why you’re so fixed on me” sighing dejectedly, you awaited a response.

If the slightly widened eyes were any clue, he was surprised by your admission.

“That was probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten” Neil stumbled over the sentence.

So, it was worth saying. For another time, you left the discussion on how that could even be true.

“Have you seen yourself though? How could I not be fixed on you?” it was Neil’s turn to cup your cheek, making you blush.

The pure confidence in his eyes was too much to bear at the moment. Sitting up, you kicked him lightly, enjoying the affronted look.

“Now you’re being ridiculous” you moved to stand up, but Neil took hold of your waist, sitting up as well.

You were too close again, noses brushing. It was easy to lean in and kiss him. Only when you did, a knock resounded in the room. Fucking hell.

“Can I come in?” the cockney accent was a giveaway “I bloody hope you two aren’t getting up to stuff”

Despite yourself, you giggled with your lips still brushing over Neil’s, making him sigh. For a millisecond, he tightened his grip over your waist and then let go and moved an inch away. You looked at him for permission before calling out:

“Be our guest”

In an attempt to look as casual as it was possible, you grabbed the plate with your cold eggs and passed Neil his coffee. Sitting back down on the bed, you pasted a neutral smile onto your face. As if that would divert anyone’s attention from your tangled hair and Neil’s flushed cheeks. Ives opened the door and scrutinized you both quickly, not missing how you frowned upon the first bite of your breakfast. Then he gave Neil a quick pat on the back:

“Good to see you, mate” he perched on the windowsill for the lack of any other furniture “I was hoping you’d at least come to say hi” he gave you both a knowing glance.

Cursing your own inability to say no to Neil, you grudgingly finished the eggs and took another sip of the lukewarm coffee. Next time, food first, then kissing. No matter how irresistible the bastard might be.

“I was planning to, only…” the bastard in question shrugged before glancing at you shortly.

“Oh, I know. Priorities and all that” Ives smirked upon your deepening blush “I get it, believe me. Plus, seeing how often Y/N is glued to her phone, I reckon you two are doing good” he winked.

Sensing Neil’s growing discomfort, you shot back:

“Don’t talk about me as though I wasn’t here” it was hard to look threatening when staring at someone like Ives, but you did your best.

“Or?” he arched his eyebrow amusedly.

“I’ll shoot you”

The sudden tense silence got interrupted by Neil breaking into a laugh, collapsing against you. So much for pretending you could keep away from each other. Once he calmed down, he rested his head on your shoulder and said:

“And that’s why I like you”

You did not know it was possible to blush even more. And yet. Even though what he said was hardly a surprise, he never mentioned anything like that with others present. Before you could come up with any response, Ives commented:

“Aren’t you two cute, eh?”

Lord give me strength…  

“Ives” you warned, reaching for the gun you always kept in the drawer by the bed.

He laughed and raised his hands in defence.

“Okay, I’ll stop now” he glanced at Neil, who was comfortable enough, still leaning on you “Has he given you any more clues?”

You relaxed once the conversation steered onto more professional tracks.

“Not really. I ran the analysis on the gold bar he sent, and well, there’s literally nothing concrete there” Neil shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the plutonium piece that went missing back in Kiev” he added.

“Is that part of the Algorithm?” you asked.

The topic has not really come up since your first conversation with TP in Boston, but from the information you got from Neil and others in the organisation, it seemed like the pieces were set in motion. In the Kiev Opera, another part of the compound has been lost. Maybe its purpose was to resurface in Tallinn so that you could take over.

“Yeah” Neil confirmed your suspicions with a curt nod.

“How… how do you know about this?” it was Ives’ turn to be confused, looking at you with palpable shock in his eyes.

Right… Sometimes it was hard to keep track of who knew what and why. And that was one of such moments. Straightening your back, you explained:

“TP told me. Apparently, I’ll have a role to play hence why I’m being dragged into this” glancing at Neil, who all of sudden looked rather sombre, you added, “Not only because of this idiot” giving in to the temptation, you ruffled his hair.

“…thanks” pouting, Neil moved away.

“Welcome” 

*** You have left the apartment and quickly checked the maps again. Neil set your meeting for a rather obscure park square in the downtown area of the city since that was where he was supposed to meet TP later. At first, you wanted to refuse, to tell him that it was risky to go for a walk with the boss nearby. But then, you knew there was not much point in saying no to something that tempting. It was enough that you might not be able to spend time together at all the next few days.

Just when you were sure you have gotten lost in the greyness of the apartment blocks and identical streets, you spotted him waiting on the bench. The icy wind was ruffling his hair as Neil stared at the pavement, unaware of your attention. You smiled at the sight of his brown and green outfit and those strange shoes; you have seen the brogues before in Oslo. Now that was something worth a call out later. Ending the scrutiny, you approached him and, as a means of greeting, brushed the hair away from his forehead. That worked, as it always did. The blue eyes snapped up to meet yours:

“Hello” you offered him a small smile.

“Tere, kallis” the grin combined with the strange words he uttered made you frown.

“I hope that was something appropriate”

He took your hand in his and pulled you down onto his lap. The happy sparks in his eyes were almost enough to make you ignore the cold and the embarrassment of the situation.

“I thought you said we’re going for a walk” forcing a stern tone was difficult with how Neil gently cupped your flushed cheek.

“That we are. But first, I wanted to get you up close and personal” he brushed his nose against yours tenderly.

“I see…” with the corner of your eye you could see an older woman observing you from the nearby bench.

With a start, you realised how very much alike a couple you must look to any passerby. Sitting on Neil’s lap, with his arm securing you around the waist and your faces inches away, there were no questions about the nature of your relationship. But, somehow, that was okay. A stronger gust of wind made you shiver, which he noticed straight away and pulled you even closer, your lips nearly touching. The blue of his irises and the depth of focus in them made you gasp. It was always like this with him, as though you were the only person in the universe that mattered.

“We’ll get going now, only…” Neil met your gaze with a silent question.

You nodded. He could do anything he wanted anyway. He met your lips in a slow kiss, relishing in the feeling for at least half a minute. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to bring him a little closer, suddenly grateful for the position he put you in. Then, just as the kiss threatened to get more heated, Neil broke the contact and leaned back, taking in your dazed expression. He always knew how to get to you.

“Now we can go” he smirked, and you had no choice but to slide off his lap.

As soon as you were both standing, Neil grabbed your hand again and intertwined your fingers. As usual. It did seem like neither of you wanted to pretend today, and instead letting yourselves explore the ‘not-quite relationship’ you got into. For once, the voices in your head were silent, seemingly agreeing to the new developments. You did wonder how long that was bound to last.

“Ives says hi, by the way,” you broke the silence, looking around the cityscape.

This part of Tallinn certainly was not as picturesque as the city centre, but it had to do. After all, your sole focus was Neil. Not much else mattered when you were together. If that did not confirm your feelings, then god knows what did. Sighing, you turned to look at the man in question.

“You told him we’re meeting up?” he asked with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Confusion, then.

“No. I just said that I’m going out for a walk, and he told me to say hi to you” laughing at the idiocy of the moment you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.

In response, you got the signature Neil grin that was the beginning of your downfall all those months previously. Despite the absolute horror you felt during the initial conversation with Ives, now it was somehow less terrifying.

“Ah, I see” his tongue clicked thoughtfully, only making you laugh harder.

It was difficult to get the next sentence out.

“He also added that he’s surprised he’s not yet caught you sneaking out of my room at night”

The small snorting sound Neil let out made you want to kiss him right there, in the middle of the busy street.

“Why do I feel like he wants it to happen” he glanced at you quickly with an amused expression.

“Maybe it’s his thing” you retorted, savoring the laugh it prompted from your companion.

After that first morning in the safehouse, you have both decided to try and keep away from any rash actions or decisions while in Estonia. You certainly had enough of interruptions, and with the team sharing the space, it was all too precarious. Hence you have been meeting up outside, for strolls or lunch, talking about everything and nothing. Only now, that TP was around, it was bound to change, and you expected that this might be the last of those stolen moments.

“I’m sorry that we had to meet around here today” Neil interrupted your slightly melancholic thoughts “I wanted to take you out somewhere again, but he called, and I think it will be on soon” he lowered his voice to a slightly conspicuous tone, making you smile.

“It’s okay, at least that means I’ll know why the fuck am I even here” shrugging, you looked around at the shops you have passed by.

“For me?” Neil batted his eyelashes innocently while tightening his hold over your hand.

“Apart from that” this time you allowed him honesty “Don’t you ever get tired though? Of me?” the self-sabotaging voice contributed a question.

It was too late to take it back. But the way Neil looked at you then, with disbelief and fondness, was enough to excuse the moment on insecurity.

He stopped walking, making you freeze despite the streams of people going in both directions. You were like an island amidst a fast-flowing river. Neil forced you to meet his gaze by tilting your chin upwards. There was nothing playful in his eyes, just sincerity and love. And determination.

“Do you need me to remind you why that’s impossible?” you did not know when did his voice become so husky.

“Maybe” biting your lip, you searched his face, fascinated and curious.

Neil glanced at the teeth nibbling on your lower lip, and his tongue darted out, seemingly on reflex. Oh. When his eyes met yours again, you could see a hint of a new emotion there. He was hesitating for approximately 10 seconds before he started leading you again with purpose. Before you could ask a single question, he turned sharply into a non-descript alley between two crumbling buildings. It was empty save for a few pieces of trash lying around and a rusted door at the other end, with a metal padlock and a heavy chain. But your quick scan of the environment got interrupted by Neil wrapping his arm around your waist and pushing you at one of the walls. Just before your head could hit the bricks, he cradled the back of it, providing a safeguard. Ever so thoughtful. Wide-eyed, you glanced up at him to gauge the intention. The darkness and resolve you found were enough of an indicator.

“The walk will have to wait” he spoke before crashing his lips against yours.

The instinct kicked in instantaneously, making you respond by bringing him closer with your hand taking hold of his tie. Kissing Neil was like a fix for an addiction you did not want to fight against. No matter how urgent it was, you could always find a tempo that suited you both, neither fighting for dominance. It was like a dance where both were willing to lead and follow. Neil bit into your lower lip, drawing blood, tinting the kiss with that coppery taste. Fuck. You gasped into his mouth, shivering when his tongue ran along the split, licking off the droplets. It was enough to make you want more. As a payback, you caught his upper lip with your teeth, tugging at it lightly to remind him of the potential. But only when you pulled on his tie sharply, making Neil almost collapse against you, he broke the kiss with a groan. His eyes were hazed with lust, making you lightheaded the more you kept on gazing. The bloody shade of red on his lips made your pulse quicken. You still kept the hold on his patterned tie, making sure he was within your reach. His tongue darted out and licked off the remains of blood. That was a good cue to sober up. You released his tie and placed your hand over his heart, relishing in the way he was looking at you, as though you were a sight he could never have enough of.

“Huh…” you broke the silence and glanced at the entryway to the alley.

Thankfully no spectators.

“Is this all you’re going to say?” Neil’s perplexed facial expression made you laugh.

Sometimes it was fascinating to see him that disoriented after a kiss. Because it was a clear sign that not only you were affected by everything that transpired. Another reason to believe that maybe the feeling was mutual. Calming down, you started toying with his shirt collar. Even though heated kisses in dirty alleys were never your kind of thing, with Neil that too was exciting. And something you wanted to repeat.

“I mean… this is rather nice” you met his confused gaze and added, “Being with you like this”

Coherence for more complex sentences was nowhere to be found.

“I’m glad because I wanted that last hour of normalcy before we go back to the usual” Neil staggered over the sentence as well, making your heart stumble with fondness.

Pouring the feeling into your gaze, you grinned at him, running your hands over his shirt and lapels. You knew exactly what he meant. But still, with tongue poking out, you noticed:

“That sentence didn’t make sense, and yet I agree” the way his eyes darted onto your lips was enough to cause a resurgence amidst the butterflies.

Neil leaned in again, eager for another kiss. But you had other ideas, struck with the courage to tease him a little. You dropped your head and kicked him in the foot lightly. Just enough to bring his attention onto the subject of your scrutiny.

“The hell are those shoes though” you smirked upon his utterly lost gaze.

“What? You don’t like them?” the slight pout only made your grin wider.

With the hair in disarray, reddened cheeks, and pink lips, he was more than a sight to behold. And all that because of you. Wow.

“They look a little like you wanted to channel Pennywise or something” you laughed at his blank stare “Remind me to go through your wardrobe one day because you’re selling yourself short with those fashion choices” to emphasize the point you tugged on his tie again and frowned.

But it seemed like Neil managed to recover enough. He placed both of his hands on the wall, blocking your way out. The well-known smirk came back too. You had a feeling that you were about to lose this one battle.

“And yet here you are” he practically purred with a hungry look in his eyes.

You swallowed. Whenever he got like this, showing how much he wanted you, it was hard to think. Raking your head for a response, you settled on honesty again.

“That’s because I admire your soul” eyeing him intently, you added “And hair”

You tugged on the golden strands, making him whine in frustration. Good.

“And eyes” he met your gaze purposefully, a hint of a knowing smile on his face.

Of course, he’d know.

“Yeah” you raised your head.

A challenge he took without hesitation. Neil reached for the scarf wrapped around your neck and loosened it just enough to have access. Before you could do as much as exhale, his lips were on your neck and throat, attacking all the spots that were bound to make you gasp and search for something to hold on to. Cursing, you closed your eyes, letting yourself block everything that was not Neil and his touch. Soon his hands joined in with the exploration, brushing over your body, slipping inside the opened coat and underneath your blouse. Any resistance you might have had was slowly breaking. Blindly, you found his tie again and started to work on undoing the knot with shaking hands. Once you loosened it and undid the first three buttons, you slipped your hand underneath his shirt. You did not even know what you wanted to do. He was there, yours and in reach. That was enough to cause urgency. But any intent you might have had disappeared when Neil finished his study with a harsh bite over your collarbone.

“Jesus Christ…” you huffed and pulled him closer with a finger around his belt loop.

As his hips met yours, he raised his head and met your gaze shamelessly. Nothing but want and adoration. A sudden commotion on the street helped you remember the surroundings. Sighing, you pieced together a sentence:

“This is rather risky, don’t you think?” if anything, the unconscious way in which you bumped your hips against his again was a contradiction to the statement.

Your head was a mess. On one hand, wanting nothing but Neil, right here and now. On the other, doing anything like this in an alley spoke against the last bits of the reason you tried to preserve.

“Yes, but I quite enjoy the thrill” Neil brushed his hand over your stomach and smiled devilishly.

If your experience was anything to go by, and the way it felt when his crotch brushed over your hip, he too was rather invested. That thought gave you some needed courage to respond.

“You like being caught? Then I’m surprised you were so unsatisfied in Oslo” the cheeky smile and a quick touch of your hand over the front of his pants did it.

Neil swallowed hard and took additional few seconds to find words.

“More than being caught I like you. And everything we do... or could do” experimentally, he traced his finger along the line of your belt.

The goosebumps and rising tension within your core were good enough clues towards your feelings on the matter.

“Like what?” the breathlessness of your voice made you frown.

“Like this” in one swift motion, Neil undid the buckle.

Shit. That was enough to raise concern. You wanted him, urgently, but…

“Neil... do you seriously think fucking in an alley is a good idea?” you did know where that word came from, but it was pretty spot on.

“First of all, we’re not fucking. This isn’t that primal” for some reason the way he pronounced it only made matters worse, as did that smirk “Unless one day you feel like it and-” oh hell.

You placed one hand over his mouth, shutting him up, the other ventured into the pocket of your coat, where you always had the small hunting knife hidden.

“I’m going to stab you. Here they won’t find you for days” aiming for a threatening tone, you raised the hand from his mouth.

But not before he somehow managed to kiss your fingers. His eyes were dark, determined to make you break any internal rules you could have.

“Wow, you really have it bad for me” Neil whispered, getting ever closer, ignoring your threats.

Too lost in the strange conversation you have not even realised when he managed to unzip your jeans. Only once you felt his hand slipping between your thighs, you huffed with frustration. Thinking on reasons against letting him do it was getting increasingly harder.

“Neil” was the only warning you could manage.

All thoughts disappeared when he palmed you through the underwear. Searching for support, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“I just want to check if you’re still interested... still so eager,” the satisfied grin told you that it felt just as bad as you expected.

Like this, with him having direct access to check what was working for you, there was nowhere to hide. Once again, he managed to bring you to such a state with worrying ease. His whole body was pressing against yours, with one hand teasing you through the thin layer of clothing. The other has somehow managed to wrap around your throat. Not strong enough to apply pressure, but at the same time making you face him. And increasing the need you felt.

“You’re a bastard” the insult got muddled by the longing you could not hide from your gaze.

Neil caught it, grinning mischievously. The game was on.

“Well... it takes two and all that” he feigned nonchalance, arching an eyebrow.

You knew full well what he was implying. You could practically feel how drenched with arousal you were. Your underwear was wet to touch, thighs clenching around Neil’s hand. That was his cue to keep your legs parted by inserting his knee between them. Here we go again. You wanted him to do something. Anything. But he was resolved to keep you waiting, thinking about all the different ways to make the situation even more unbearable for you. To make you beg for whatever he was willing to give. Your futile attempt to grind on his thigh got stopped with a stronger grip around your throat and a glimpse of something darker in his eyes. You had enough.

“Why are you doing this?” the hoarse tone of your voice was rather shameful.

“Because I know that you actually enjoy it” Neil shrugged and met your gaze with playful sparks in the blue eyes.

You did not want to know how obvious it must have been for him. Then, he slowly stroked you there, earning a muffled curse.

“I would if you finished it for once” you breathed, letting the frustration take over.

The ache between your legs was nearly driving you over the edge now. It was too much. Neil was too close, and yet not close enough.

“I’m giving you food for thought, so to speak” he murmured.

His hand moved; thumb tentatively hooked around the hem of your panties. An offer to take it a step further any second now.

“That you are” you met his gaze defiantly.

If he was so determined to make you suffer, you might as well give him what he wanted.

“Have you been... dreaming about this?” Neil glanced down at where his fingers were getting closer to where you needed him most.

As though he needed to ask. Of course, you have thought about this scenario before. And many others too. After all, you had to somehow deal with those countless times when his pure existence frustrated you in every meaning of the word.

“Mhmm” you hummed, hoping that will be enough of a response.

The smirk was a reward.

“Good”

Unable to withstand the tension any longer, you kissed him hungrily, taking everything you could have. Soon enough, you were both gasping for breath, yet you did not want to let go. Biting, sucking, and nibbling on every part of his mouth available, he was your drug. With his hand still in a loose chokehold and the other so close to your pulsating core, Neil became the sole reason for your existence. Your knees buckled when he sharply tugged at your panties and touched you without the barrier of the undergarment. You broke the kiss and met his wild gaze, both shocked by the sheer pull between you. Only once he drew a finger between your folds, collecting some of the wetness, the moment got interrupted by Neil’s raspy chuckle.

“It’s quite flattering to see you like this and all because of me” you were not sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him.

But then that was a usual thing with Neil.

“Just don’t get cocky…” it was hard to put together a string of words.

“Or?” his thumb touched your clit, and you hissed sharply “I already know how I’m making you feel”

To prove a point, he drew another gasp from you by starting a circular stimulation of the sensitive nub. You whimpered, suddenly aware of what a sight you must be for him. Utterly ruined because of kisses, touches, and words. You hated being at anyone’s mercy like this.

“Neil…” a weak plea made him meet your gaze “Please just…” helplessly, you tried to convey everything through the expression in your eyes.

He searched your face before letting go of your throat and instead cupping your cheek tenderly. The juxtaposition was enough to make your head spin.

“What do you want?” it was that question again.

Simple and yet not at all. Awaiting the response, Neil stopped all the movement, increasing your frustration and need. You knew that there was no way you could ever walk away from this as though nothing happened. You might as well have some relief.

“Help me before I lose my fucking mind” you breathed out, expecting the smug smile.

Instead, you got the most sickening grin you have ever seen on his face. But combined with the adoration in his eyes, you knew it was exactly what he wanted to hear from you.

“With pleasure” the words rolled off his tongue, and before you could prepare, he went back to stimulating your clit.

Your head almost slammed onto the wall behind when he picked up the pace. Even though you both knew that you hardly needed any additional preparation, Neil took his time, never taking his gaze off you. At the edges of your consciousness, you could feel the rising shame that was bound to consume you later. After all, this was the second time that you have asked him to help you like this. Surely, he would soon get tired of having to deal with your issues and never getting anything in return. But before you could follow that train of thought, Neil inserted a finger, and an unwanted cry rose in your throat.

“Jesus…” to stop yourself from being too vocal, you bit down harshly on your lip, bursting the barely sealed cut.

But Neil tilted your chin, meeting your gaze again.

“No need for that” he caught your lips in a short kiss “Don’t hold back”

Readjusting your hold on one of his shoulders, with the other hand you tugged on the tie you have messed up earlier. He took that as a cue to insert another digit. Too much.

“Christ, Neil” the breathless tone was a revelation even to you “You’re…” unable to finish the sentence, you moaned quietly.

Neil had no issues finding the perfect spot again, making you squirm and roll your hips, grinding down on that conveniently placed thigh. He thought of everything, it seemed. You did wonder how many times before he brought people to their downfall with those hands alone. But then, you would be lying if you would not admit that he had rather nice hands. And that you have not thought about this before Oslo.

“Glad it’s working, love” he commented upon a louder gasp from you.

For some reason, the nickname acted like a trigger. Feeling a surge of frustration, you bucked your hips against his, needing more.

“Don’t call me that” you spit the words out, relishing in the look of surprise in his eyes.

But he only needed a moment to shake it off before picking up the pace and curling his fingers inside you. Now it was close.

“What then?” Neil searched your eyes intently as though he was doing anything else but taking you apart with his two fingers and a thumb.

In response, you could only shudder, feeling your muscles tense in the anticipation of the near end.

“My love?” the proposition broke through the haze overwhelming your mind.

My god. Only with him, those two simple words could cause such an onslaught of feelings. There was something so achingly tender in his gaze that no matter the situation, your heart was set ablaze. He looked as though he was relieved to finally use those words. Suddenly, it was not just Neil lending you a helping hand in an hour of need. It was an act of love, further cementing your status as lovers. You were not sure whether it was that realization or what Neil has been doing to you that made the world explode before your eyes. Perhaps it was both. You only managed to breathe out a warning in the form of his name, but he understood.

“Look at me. I want to see what I did to you” he angled your chin again so you were forced to meet his gaze “So that I can remember this later” the husky whisper was the ultimate push over the edge.

Oh christ. You gripped his shoulder tightly and undid the tie, making it fall to the ground. Neil did not even notice, staring at you mesmerized. With the last bits of sanity, you took hold of his neck, bringing him close. The wave of pleasure made you tense up like a bowstring before you came with a shudder and a cry.

“Neil…” you got struck by the hope you saw in his eyes.

This time nothing was stopping you. No lips on yours to take over the words that were slowly choking you. The high he gave you took away all the inhibitions and worries. Neil was there, with you, a solid presence beneath your fingertips and an anchor to keep you from getting lost in your head. And that was enough.

“I love you” the three words were easy to utter for something you struggled to keep inside that long.

In response, Neil smiled and pressed his forehead against yours tenderly. The darkness in his eyes made way for pure happiness and conviction. Maybe this time it wasn’t a mistake.

“I know” he whispered and covered your lips in a sweet kiss.

Now that you were not holding back anything kissing Neil felt like absolution. You were never particularly religious, but he could be your eternal salvation, for the body and the soul. The only person you ever needed that much. 

Breaking the kiss with a sigh, Neil took a step back and retracted the hand that was still stroking your navel. You watched with a slight surprise as he glanced at a watch.

“Are you in a rush?” with cheeks burning, you took out a tissue and passed it to him.

He took it with a curt nod and cleaned his hand. As you observed him like that, with messed up hair, unbuttoned collar, and slightly flushed cheeks, the reality of the situation started dawning on you. Not only have you allowed Neil to finger you in a dirty alley, but also you have confessed your feelings in the heat of the moment. And yet, he was still there…

“Unfortunately, yes, the meeting is in ten, and I still have to get there” Neil picked up the tie from the ground and brushed off the dirt “Trust me, I’d love to continue with this…” carelessly he tied the knot and took a step closer again “But we should leave something for the future too” with playful sparks in his eyes he brushed the hair away from your eyes.

Oh my god.

“Can’t you for once… not do this” sighing heavily, you focused on readjusting the underwear and zipping up your pants.

Everything was better than looking into those blue eyes.

“Where would be the fun in that” Neil buckled your belt, just as quickly as he undid it previously “I must admit that after this, I’m curious to see how you’ll react once I do it properly one day… with my mouth and then…” he trailed off, fingers brushing over your stomach once again.

“Neil… don’t” using your own power, you brushed your hips over his “Or you won’t make it to that meeting” you glanced at his crotch knowingly.

“As tempting as that is… I’d rather not disappoint TP” with a final caress of your side, he took a step back again “Don’t worry about me though. I’ll deal with this later” he adjusted the trousers slightly “I’m used to it” the hint of a smile was enough to help you understand.

You gaped. It was hard to think straight again. Surely…not? Right?

“You- what? Because of me?” you stuttered, bewildered and perplexed.

“Yes, absolutely” Neil shrugged and attempted to smooth his hair “Pretty often, but then you’re quite the inspiration, my love” he winked, enjoying your sudden paralysis.

Now that sort of image was bound to keep you up at night. For some reason, you never thought that he would think about you like that, always assuming there were better fantasies to use in need. But maybe… maybe he had it just as bad as you did.

“I have to run” Neil kissed you on the cheek, bringing your mind back to the present moment.

“Does this… change anything?” you met his gaze, hoping he will catch on to the meaning.

“No, not at all” the soft smile contrasted the recent conversation tone “I’ll text you later”

“You better” you mirrored his smile, watching him disappear in the crowd.

Wow… Now that was an interesting walk. Sighing, you rested your head against the brick wall for a few minutes longer, trying to level your breathing.

*** You were not given much break from Neil that day. To clear your head, you went for a walk around the city centre, visiting curious shops, and spending time in a cosy café. Just anything that did not have to do with the blonde bastard was good enough to shut up your rebelling brain. After all, now he knew everything, and that was a dangerous situation. You did your best to ignore your phone for most of the day however when it buzzed on your way back to the apartment it was hard to resist checking. He did text just as promised:

“Did you miss me?” and then “I’ll have some news for you all later”

Maybe things, in fact, have not changed…

“Maybe a little” smiling, you keyed in the code to the door.

Inside, you quickly settled on the sofa with some indulgent crisps, about to tune into the team’s favourite Estonian soap ‘Õnne 13’, which you all watched every evening. It was terribly boring (especially when one did not understand a single word), and yet after a few days, you wanted nothing but to know what Alma will have for dinner that night. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The latest dose of drama from the shithole called Morna got interrupted by your phone ringing. Neil, of course. Ignoring the offended stares from the other eight people in the room, you picked up the phone:

“Hey”

“Evening, my love” you could hear how happy he was to use those words.

Your heart summersaulted, making you exhale.

“I like the sound of that” grinning you walked out into the corridor to hide from the curious looks.

“Me too. Is everyone there with you?” jumping straight into the business was probably good for you both.

“Yeah. You’ve interrupted our shitty soap” at your adjective, a choir of outraged voices rose in the living room.

“My bad. Can you put me on the speaker? I could give you a run over the plan”

“Of course,” you motioned for everyone to gather around the table and put your phone in the middle “You’re on”

“Okay, so basically TP wants to take over the plutonium piece that is being transported through Tallinn in three days on its way to a nuclear depot in Italy. The point is not to let it get into Sator’s hands who thinks we’re cooperating with him”

“How will it be transported?” Ives propped his chin on his hand, listening intently.

“Reinforced truck with police escort front and back. Tracked via GPS” leaning back in the chair, you listened to Neil’s voice “Any unplanned stop or different turn and in come the reinforcements”

“What’s his plan then?”

“I believe he wants to take it out on the move with the use of a fire truck. Among others”

The hint of a smile in that sentence made you comment:

“So, you’re not the only crazy one around” earning a few amused grins from the people around, you briefly felt victorious.

Briefly.

“Something tells me you’re into that. Judging by what you let me do to you in that alley”

Fuck. A sharp gasp you let out made everyone turn to look at you. Gripping the edge of the table, you wanted nothing but to disappear. Or die. All the blood drained from your face as you stammered.

“Neil- you-” there was not enough air in the room “I-”

Wheeler shot you a worried look after you let out a small choking sound and spoke:

“Anyway…  why are we needed?” the professional tone made everyone turn their attention back to the mission.

You had to thank her later for saving your dignity. And life.

“To be on hand if things get dirty. I’ll send you the brief now it lists the details of his plan” Neil resumed the topic as though nothing happened “Tomorrow, I’ll call to let you know what exactly I need. That’s it for tonight, enjoy your evening”

Before anyone could make a move, you snatched your phone from the table and muttered:

“You’re dead”

You ended the call and stormed off to your room, slamming the doors. You could not believe his audacity to say something like that with everyone on the receiving end. The bastard ought to pay for that. Unable to calm down, with hands shaking violently and your head in absolute disarray, you grabbed the coat and made beeline for the exit out of the flat. It was pretty late for a solitary walk, but you hardly had anything to lose. Before you could make a swift exit, Ives’ stopped you with a hand on the arm. You met his gaze with impatience:

“So… how was the alley?” while he kept his face straight, the amused tone was there.

Bloody men.

“Fuck off” you shook off his hand and opened the door “I’m going out, and hopefully I’ll get killed. Don’t wait up”

Before you slammed the door in his face, you heard the parting words:

“Have fun”

The cold Estonian breeze was a welcomed sensation for your tired and thoroughly pissed off mind. You put up the hood of your coat and wandered off into the night.

*** Unfortunately, no one was willing to kill you. Around 1 am, you grudgingly made your way back to the apartment, relieved when no one was around to corner you. Once you were safe in your locked bedroom, you took out the phone for the first time in three hours. Unsurprisingly there were two missed calls and three texts from Neil, plus one message from Wheeler. She was checking whether you were still alive, which was a rather touching gesture, and so you replied to her first. Then, sighing heavily, you went through the texts from Neil:

“I’m sorry” then “But I wasn’t entirely wrong, was I?” and finally, “Are you alright?”

That son of a bitch…

“You’re so going to pay for this” you typed back and lied down on the bed. He was quick to reply, which meant he stayed up. Potentially waiting for you to reach out. Talking about confusing signals…

“I was hoping you’d say that” you groaned.

“After that disaster of a meeting, I went for a walk. Found a perfect spot for murder in cold-blood. You won’t even know what hit you”

Maybe that will do the job.

“You did. Only a lot earlier than you think”

It didn’t. Sighing, you cursed your inability to leave him on read.

“I’ve had enough of you today, g’night”

“I seriously doubt that, but good night, darling” and then “I hope your dreams will be as good as our little moment”

That surge of frustration was only made worse when you found a stray short blonde hair on your blouse while changing for bed. The idiot not only had your heart, but everything else too, it seemed.

[parasprite]

are you one of those people who goes to goth clubs and says to baby bats "quick name 5 cure songs"? because in that case you really shouldn't be complaining about goth being dead since it's attitudes like yours that are trying to kill it. or do you not go to goth clubs because you get too big of a hate boner for "posers" and you can't let loose and have fun?

are you a batcave tradgoth purist who thinks all goths have to look like siouxsie sioux? because the batcave didn't have a dress code. can you name 5 goth clubs anywhere that have a dress code? can you name 5 prominent goths who were or are "elitist big time" (and who aren't friendless losers because of it)? can you name any kind of goth establishment, convention, festival or event that kicks people out for not being dressed right?

speaking of purity, how many elements of punk or psychobilly does a person have to embrace or enjoy before they get their goth card revoked? if a goth has 1 Cramps album in their vinyl collection, is that enough to poison the spring? if a goth buys army surplus boots or punches a nazi, do they become too punk to be welcome at the goth function? did you know goth and psychobilly both rose to prevalence in london in the late 70s and early 80s and both had strong ties to the punk subculture, with "new punk" being an interchangeable term for goth at the time? none of these subcultures are mutually exclusive

are you aware that music genres can evolve? even the batcave itself started off as a new wave and glam rock venue before it evolved into a goth establishment. i'm assuming you're probably a fan of the classic goth rock artists like the cure, joy division, siouxsie, nick cave, bauhaus, etc... if the waters being muddied bothers you so badly, how do you feel about the clear influence of punk, new wave, psychedelic rock, synth pop, experimental and industrial sounds in all of those artists' work? inversely, the sisters of mercy had a HUGE influence over goth music, style and culture all while being adamant that they weren't goth. but they dressed right and liked the right music, didn't they? what does that mean?

can you enlighten me on the style thing? how can i dress like a real goth? is it victorian corsetry? is it flowy black dresses? is it top hats and winklepickers? is it leather jackets? is it fetish gear? is it chokers? is it piercings? is it band shirts? is it thrifted and dyed at home or bought from an expensive goth shop? is it fast fashion or upcycled? is it tripp pants? is it cyberlox? is it new rocks? is it mary janes? is it black capes? is it halloween costumes? is it gothic lolita? is it white face paint and full glam? is it rosaries or ankhs? are hijabs/niqaabs/burkas/abayas/kurtas allowed or is that too different? how about traditional cultural clothing? are hoodies and sweats allowed or is taking a break from being gothed up too posery? are homemade patches and safety pins allowed or is that too punk? is worn and beat up clothing allowed or is that too grunge? is short hair allowed? are beards allowed? is colour allowed? are modern trends or interests or self expression allowed at all, or should i LARP as an 80s batcaver (or a y2k hot topic emo since you seem to like that too) in a desperate attempt to prove myself to people like you?

speaking of modernity, how can goth be "dead" if the scene is still thriving, especially in europe and latin america? how are there still goth bands slaying the scene like molchat doma, lebanon hanover, kælan mikla, twin tribes and double echo just to name a few? if goth is dead then should all these artists pack it up and stop making music? if real goths don't exist any more should we shut down the goth clubs? should we stop having concerts and festivals? should we shut it all down? would you rather see goth die than evolve?

it's funny that you criticise posers for not looking the part when dressing in all black all the time just to prove how goth you are is the very DEFINITION of poserism. if you're so disgusted by "just be yourself", how can you even call yourself goth? you're arguing in favour of conformity in a subculture that is BY DEFINITION nonconformist. it's a SUBculture, that's literally what that word means! you're arguing that goths should copy each other, how is that an improvement over self expression? say you're an older, traditional goth (although irl i get the vibe you're younger than me) and a baby bat saw you gothed up and then copied your outfit to an absolute tee, would that make you comfortable or creep you out? copying is way more frowned upon in the goth scene than branching out your style. and yes any teenager on the internet who's never been to a goth club will scream that the scene is rife with elitism while perpetuating these in-crowd bullying tactics and impossible standards... actual goths do not give a fuck as long as you're there to have fun and be respectful

if you're really a tradgoth and you hate any new goth trends, that's okay. the tradgoth style isn't going anywhere. you can dress exactly how you want and listen to all the 80s music you want. but that doesn't make you better than anyone else. since the very beginning tons of goths, especially baby bats, have loved the music and wanted to dress goth but didn't have access to it, whether due to their school, their parents, their work, their religion, their disability, their geographical location, social isolation or their financial situation. and goths from around the world have always been incorporating elements of their own nationality and culture into their goth attire and music. people who couldn't go to hot topic (which by the way is pretty much exclusive to the USA) or who didn't have a goth shop in their city had to make do with what they had. disregarding any of that as "not really goth" is ignorant at best and downright bigoted at worst.

how are you up in arms about modern teens shopping at hot topic because "90s hot topic was better"? what do you want them to do? hop in a time machine? if you're upset about the commercialisation of our subculture, hot topic was exactly as commercial in the 90s as it is today. you just wanna scare away newcomers and then blame THEM when nobody wants to join your local goth scene any more. it's so self-defeating and for what? a little thrill of feeling like you're better than someone for a second? its an ageist fallacy that achieves nothing.

finally... you really wanna call ME embarrassing in your silly little tag when you're unironically using the word POSER in 2023? don't make me chuckle

the girl on the left could be way gother than you you can't tell just by looking at her. there's no uniform for being goth you just have to like the music. maybe shes vibing to goth music every day in her room. maybe she does have goth clothes and she just didn't have the energy to get gothed up today. or maybe she's a baby bat who hasn't learned how to do the makeup yet. don't be judgemental. and girl on the right, where's YOUR official goth license? that's what i thought. plus you have a wolf cut and you're wearing a hello kitty shirt and blush on your cheeks. you're not exactly traddy mctradgoth either are you. you don't really have a leg to stand on here. you're being mean and elitist when you could be holding hands and kissing.