#now see this one i simply have to learn now

[bluegiragi]

I love all the things I've seen from you, but your recent writing on Ghost and Soap was absolute perfection. You put it into words I couldn't find. And that last tag? The one regarding Simon finding peace in thinking of Johnny in the end? You just articulated something that is potentially, simultaneously, the most angsty and closure giving end to their story ever. The idea that Simon gets to see him again, boisterous and grinning, asking "Miss me Lt?" It's a story idea so good I wish I had the writing ability to bring it to life. Feel free to ramble to us more.

omg……..that’s a concept just asking to be drawn, huh….

god, i actually have so many thoughts about post-mw3 ghost, i think he'd completely shut down emotionally. Not even as a 'punishment' for his teammates but almost out of self-preservation, like I think he's able to recognise what a livewire he is right now and just...shave himself down to the bare necessities. He'd simplify himself down to his functionality, to Ghost, not Lieutenant Riley or Simon ever again, because that's the only reason he's still here - to be a good tool - and once he physically can't keep up anymore...well. Then that's it for him.

He'd likely sink into a variety of vices simply so he can manage to fall asleep without seeing Johnny's face every time he dreams. And I think his relationship with both Gaz and Price deteriorates, and he simply can't bring himself to care as much as he should about it.

As time passes, I think he'd develop a trend of self destructive behaviour that manifests in him going too far too often, whether its in sparring or in the field. He'll never admit it to anyone, especially because he's supposed to be the bogeyman, the hyper-competent machine who never stays down, but he wants to be taken out. He's heartbroken and grieving and lacking in any knowledge of how to healthily process any of it so it all comes out as fury and violence and he constantly feels like a rabid dog that needs to be put down. He's forced to re-learn restraint after certain incidents have him in danger of being discharged from duty, permanently, and he realises with a kind of of sinking blankness that this is all he has left to cling onto. So he gets his shit together, or as much as he can. And years later, when he dies on a mission, his vision blurs and for a moment he thinks he hears Johnny's voice.

[oracleofdiscord]

#arthur was genuinely more pro-magic in s1

#like. that is a huge part of why merlin saw his potential lol

#arthur actually has worse negative development than merlin but ppl don’t see it that way because it’s heavily obfuscated by 2 things:

#1) development ‘rewrites’ where arthur seems to have learned his lesson but then makes the same mistakes again

#(but how can he not when he isn’t applying those morals universally? as long as he bans magic he is highly susceptible to his own hubris)

#2) narrative bias. the writers wants us to believe that arthur is vastly improved — and in some areas he is — but even in those areas

#it’s a bit of a lukewarm attitude adjustment. he still bullies merlin through and because of their power imbalance

#which feels almost worse with an older arthur. haven’t you outgrown this by now? hasn’t merlin earned your respect?

#and arthur still fully bans magic in the late seasons as king. he at least questioned these beliefs to a certain degree when he was younger.

#regularly and without external influence!

#i think the writers wanted us to see this negative development as entirely merlin’s fault because you can pretty well track the end of this#to 2x08 (which… greeeeaaaaattt plotline… as we know it is never the oppressor’s fault that they oppress people; only the oppressed people’s)

#but back on topic: the narrative very much uses a biased tell-don’t-show structure to present arthur as a matured and just king in s5

#(post time-skip which is in and of itself a tool of tell-don’t-show)

#for example: a villager in 5x03 has to bring to our attention that uther would have just let that woman burn (forcing our focus)

#all the while this ignores that arthur still bans magic. if this woman *is* found guilty then arthur will have her executed all the same.

#a similar writing tactic is used in 5x01: the writers actually deplete merlin’s characterization in order to use him as a contrast to arthur

#does it seem uncharacteristic of merlin — who always tries no matter the sacrifice — to ask like a lost child how arthur can possibly be#holding out hope with his life on the line? something that merlin does every episode — including this one?

#a heroic trait that merlin presents as well ~randomly disappears~ for this one episode (which happens to be our intro to Mature King Arthur)

#essentially the writers believe that they must lower the characters around arthur in order to make him appear wiser and more just

#why present him in this way though? the writers simply want us to see arthur as wiser and more just. but they do NOT want to develop him.

#arthur cannot experience the character development necessary to actually appear good to the audience

#so the writers *hollow out* every other character’s lines and personalities as a way to embellish arthur’s

#it’s very cheap and manipulative but clearly it works

#on reddit arthur has ride-or-dies claiming that he actually *legalized* magic by season 5 & that everyone around him was just unreasonable

#case in point: arthur doesn’t have to do any of the work of becoming a better person if other characters become blank slates

#(GUINEVERE especially in that deleted scene from 4x03)

#and as long as other characters will say lines that clearly position arthur as better than everyone else (uther merlin morgana gwen whoever)

#it’s very sad to see when they could have just. developed arthur as a character. but the writers thought he was good enough as is

(tags via @sneakyboymerlin)

MERLIN REWATCH ✦ 1.08 The Beginning of the End

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Empire Thanks You For Your Service

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Slowly closing the door behind him, Supreme Admiral Narcus breathed a sigh of relief to be finally home.

It had been a night of celebration and triumph for many, yet the day’s events had taken their toll on him and now Narcus wished only for the comfort of his bed. Still, he was held to certain standards and as the victorious leader who had vanquished an entire human fleet he was hoisted up by both the military and civilian government of his people as a hero of the republic.

Warring with the human bipeds had gone on longer than expected and the republic had suffered many casualties. What had been planned as a short war had turned into a three year conflict of grueling attrition. Things were beginning to look grim until intelligence intercepted a coded message detailing a human fleet attempting to sneak through the Calaxi Nebula. Had they succeeded they would have bypassed several warning sensor nets and been dropped into the heart of republic manufacturing worlds, crippling the war effort with their destruction and all but ensuring their defeat.

Instead Narcus had held his fleet at the expected exit point the humans would use when emerging from the Nebula. When their ships emerged from the swirling gases, with their shields still lowered to avoid from passage through the Nebula, Narcus gave the command and every ship in his force opened fire. The leading human ships were reduced to debris fields before they could even get a single shot off. Some of them attempted to make a stand and push through Narcus’s formation, but the humans were trickling out of the Nebula rather than coming at him as a single force; their numbers were decimated in short order until after two hours of fighting the remaining humans turned tail and retreated back into the Nebula.

“I figured you to be one not for frivolous socialization.”

Narcus’s head snapped around to see a hooded figure sitting at his dining room table. Had they not spoken Narcus would have walked right passed the figure and wouldn’t even know with how well they clung to the shadows.

His hand reached for his side arm but the figure held up a hand.

“Relax, I mean you no harm.” They chuckled. “Besides, I doubt I even could as I am.”

The figure picked up a cup and tossed it at Narcus lazily. His hand snapped up to swipe it away only for it to phase through his hand and disappear entirely.

“Holograms.” Narcus muttered as realization finally dawned on him.

“A fast learner,” the figure chimed in, “perhaps that is how you bested my forces so easily.”

“Your forces?” Narcus asked. “Who are you?”

The figure casually flicked off their hood and the Supreme Admiral finally got a good look at the intruder.

“Human.” Narcus snarled.

The human laughed. “I must say I was expecting a bit more than simply “Human”.” They replied as they imitated the disgust Narcus had used for the word.

“One human is no different from the other.” Narcus replied as he approached the table. The human made no move to get up from their seat and instead gestured to the empty seat opposite them.

“Unless that is you are the ruler of all humans.”

Again they were expecting some reaction but Narcus’s face gave little reaction.

“Really?” the human sighed in a defeated manner. “I am Valarin Cassia, Emperor of the Terran Dominion.”

Like a drunkard finally snapping out of their haze Narcus’s eyes went wide. He had never seen a picture of the human ruler but he had heard of their name. Many of the ships he had fought against in the war had been named after this emperor and he had learned even more from captured soldiers who were interrogated.

“I was expecting someone……taller.”

Narcus adopted an attitude of indifference. He had dealt with such beings of status and position and the one thing they all shared in common was an enragement at jokes made at their expense. To his surprise the emperor laughed.

“That would be the work of my artificers. They tend to add three feet and remove ten pounds here and there.”

Their laugh was rich and to the Supreme Admiral’s surprise, genuine.

“Why are you here?” Narcus took the seat opposite Valarin and eyed the emperor. Perhaps it was because they were a hologram that they acted so flamboyant; free from the risk of any harm or danger.

The emperor extended his hands joyously as if to embrace Narcus. “Why to honor you for your victory of course!”

 He put his hands down as if looking for something before turning back sheepishly towards Narcus. “I would give you a toast but it seems I have thrown away my only cup.”

“Do humans pick the maddest amongst them to lead, or are you just a special case of stupidity?”

Whatever games the emperor was playing Narcus was too tired to play them.

The emperor shook his head and put his arms down. “I speak nothing but truth, you have achieved a great victory. Such things are acknowledged amongst my people.”

“A victory against your people.” Narcus chuckled, but the emperor merely smiled.

“If you say so.” They replied

The feelings of victory evaporated at the emperor’s words and he fixed them with a stare that had turned generals to sobbing puddles.

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

The grin of the emperor grew wider and Narcus could not help that he was a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Do you know who was commanding that fleet?”

When Narcus shook his head Valarin continued. “General Atalia Decani, my most decorated commander. She was the one who came up with the bold strategy and refused any other to lead it.”

“Why do you celebrate the death of your strongest warrior?” Narcus asked bluntly. This never ending circling was infuriating and he wished the human would reach their point.

“I celebrate the death of my greatest rival.”

The Supreme Admiral’s eyes went wide for a moment before he recomposed himself.

“I do not understand.” Narcus spoke as the emperor leaned over the table, clasping his fingers together.

“I imagine your people have grown tired of this war as well.” Valarin began, “Mine have as well and that tiredness has grown into outward resentment of my rule. They equated the ongoing war to a….degree of failure on my part.”

“After seeing the broken wrecks of your ships I can understand why.” Narcus chuckled.

The emperor’s expression flashed for a moment, but a moment was all Narcus needed to see a deep murderous depth lurking just beneath the human’s disarming smiles. There was malice behind those eyes.

“Atalia was always a power hungry vagrant, and she latched on to that discontent and fashioned herself into a powerful political figure. She even had the gall to present her military plan directly to my senate and seek their approval over mine.”

“Typical human stumbling.” Narcus chimed in. “Hours and days of boasting yet when the time comes to act you fall flat on your faces. I foiled her plans just as easy as I would have yours.”

“Oh you don’t know the half of it.” Valarin chuckled. “Did you know she never planned to attack your worlds?”

For the first time Narcus was at a loss for words.

“You’re lying.”

“Nothing I’ve said yet has been one, why start now?” Valarin replied coyly. “Her plan was to surprise your worlds before sending a message to your republic’s leaders demanding a ceasefire.”

“A what?”

Valarin nodded at the dumbfounded Narcus. “Oh yes, she planned to use the threat of attacking your worlds as a bargaining chip to open negotiations which would eventually end with an armistice; thus ending the war entirely.”

 “If I had not…” Narcus stammered. As the emperor spoke Narcus felt all of the warmth leave his body, replaced by a cold abyss the likes of which he had never known. Peace had been nearly within their grasp yet because of Narcus’s actions… “….if we had never intercepted your transmissions.”

“Funny thing that.”

Narcus looked up to see the emperor standing beside him. He hadn’t even noticed him moving over beside him.

“Strange how the entire war you could never decrypt our, yet when it came to the most important one of all you broke it like a baby’s spine upon your knee.”

“You…….you sent those messages!”

Valarin nodded in confirmation as the Supreme Commander stumbled from his chair, knocking it over as the weight of the situation finally came crashing down on him.

“I did, and you took the bait all the way to Atalia and decimated her and her entire fleet. Your slaying of her not only removed a powerful rival of mine, but also instilled a deep seated hatred towards your people amongst the populace that has rekindled their fighting spirit. They’ve been lining up in droves waiting to enlist into the renewed war effort.”

Valarin placed a hand on Narcus’s shoulder and…..he felt it. It did not disappear or fluctuate like the cup hologram had and the Supreme Admiral looked up at Valarin. He held out a strange medal in the shape of a golden star wrapped in a wreath of green leafs.

“I thank you for your service to the empire.” Valarin said gleefully as he put the medal into Narcus’s hand.

“You said you were a hologram.” Narcus managed to spit out as he realized he was truly before the human emperor.

Valarin shrugged and stepped back from the dumbfounded Supreme Admiral.

“I said the cup was, never I; until we meet again.”

The emperor showed a final smile before his entire person was swallowed by a blinding light. By the time Narcus’s eyes recovered he was standing alone once more in his home. He looked down at his hand at the golden medal.

It was clean as day, yet to Narcus he could smell the stench of blood drenching its every surface.

[mysteryanimator]

Breaking down "Even the Iron Still Fears the Rot" (almost) shot by shot!

The fan-animatic can be viewed here!

HEADS UP: This is a fan-made content. I am a fan. I just love Castlevania/animation a lot and I love storyboarding nuances and making people cry over character dynamics. Also apologises for any grammatical/spelling mistakes!

I wasn't planning to do another breakdown of my own work, simply due to imposter syndrome but I genuinely put so much love and care into this animatic! I want to talk about it! Also, people have been really open to hearing about my inspiration and notes, and why I take the directions I do for my work, even if it's fan-made, so here we go!

(Also the reciprocation of my animatics has been so kind and uplifting, and I'm really glad that there's a lot of love for them as much as I love doing them! I learn and grow with every single board I make, it's been really fun! I hope I get to shine this much passion in the future in actual work!)

Since this is also an adaptation of a fan one-shot by Aquila, (which you can read here!) I knew I wanted to evoke what they had written and interject some of my own nuances/personal readings to their story to elevate what they had! In turn, kind of created this monster (positive) of a fan creation haha. There are some changes/rearranging the placement of aspects of the one-shot to strengthen the existing tension going on!

With this out the way, let's begin!

(heads up, for any shots I completely skip over, it is because I'm reaching image limits here)

I wanted to evoke that strong halo light you see in a lot of media. Often than not, this visual is used to depict the character as a divine force of nature and/or when a character is bobbing in and out of death. It can also be a very very terrifying image, as, for example, s02e8, Mizrak is literally all dark with a brightly lit background. It is scary- BUT people will say hot because it's Mizrak but hey, look, all I can say is I fully understand haha. It all depends on your intentionality and what follows before and after to give context to your scene!

Mizrak is dead. Well, undead now. Olrox is the so-called angel giving him life and love and this halo of light gets repeated a few times!

By the end, not only do their literal positions switch, but their roles shift too so I hoped to convey that visually by also giving Mizrak that halo glow for the second last shot. At the start, Olrox consumes Mizrak’s love, and then it ends with Mizrak consuming Olrox’s love. Guh I love blood themes in vamprisim.

This shot honestly took me a bit to do, since I was going a lot cleaner than usual, the expression for Mizrak was super important for me to get right. I wanted him to look like he was about to die- yet still have an unwavering amount of life in him. (Also I hadn't warmed up drawing in this cleaned-up style so it definitely was me messing around). It was important for me for this to feel like a POV shot to contrast the first scene so we can get inside the mind of Olrox!

This too is where I only have sound effects since I can't have voice so I limit my SFX to the only most vital things to elevate things I personally find better elevate the scene with audio. It only happens TWICE. The heartbeat. His wrist is shown and from context clues from not only S01 of Nocturne with Tera's turning, but a whole bunch of other vampire media- the wrist is a place where the dead accept their new life of immortality!

Also, the pulse effect was definitely inspired by the transformation of Sekmet! I'm not sure personally if this went to a further stage I'd want to keep this since I'd personally want something more unique for vampire turning, more specifically for Olrox, HOWEVER, I think it still does a good job conveying the supernatural pull for the time being!

Wow who saw this coming HAHA

Immediately when I saw the line where Olrox said he went to straddle him immediately, my mind went to go and try to parallel this scene again! I don't have much to say about this shot rather than the feet are purposefully cut out for animation convenience's sake HAHA.

Jumpscare for sudden Olrox character layout (even though he's really off model and sketchy here HAHA)

I was again, wanting to depict Olrox BATHED in light and since this animatic is purely in greyscale (with accents of colour), I could really push for dramatic lighting when it called for it! This is also why some of the scenes just do not have backgrounds at all. I wanted to make some of the scenes as "heavenly" as possible and for Mizrak to be embraced by the light because Olrox is giving him a new a life.

If this were to ever be animated (I won't be since it would take too much of my time, but it's still a good thing to note when boarding anything... maybe I'll do cleaned screenshots since those are a breeze, or animate ONE scene from this animatic... we'll see what I have time for. I unfortunately don't have proper time to try and figure out the layout of s02e8 bgs and paint them. I did consider quickly doing a 3d mock-up but no haha), the light in the background can probably be lit with candles since it was already pre-established in s02e8! Also, the windows can reflect light into the room so there's that too since Mizrak was backlit in that episode too!

Fun fact, this entire scene was the first thing I ever thought up and why I started even making it. I thought about how cool of a visual it would be to have Mizrak's eye in the reflection.

I wanted to imbue the fact that Mizrak does not fear Olrox holding a blade, hell, he's not even looking at the blade. He's looking at Olrox. What is described as a relic from a terrifying past, Mizrak is not scared. Mizrak is not scared of Olrox.

This is where the heartbeat occurs AGAIN. This is mostly to signal to the audience what Olrox actually has planned. He's not feeding Mizrak from his wrist but from his actual chest, especially with how gently Olrox runs his hands over it.

I debated a lot on where the initial cut should go. The heart, for sentimentality, under the breast in the same way Christ had been pierced, etc etc- however I landed on just dead set in the middle so it could form a cross that would grow bigger and bigger as the animatic went on. (Fun fact, the blob of blood turns into a little heart as he squeezes his chest)

I wanted to put some weight to the repressed catholic guilt, so I thought a cool visual way to showcase that Mizrak has only known how to love is via worshipping God which has consumed his entire being and self. God has given him faith, a companion in the hardest of times when the world has abandoned him.

Now, once again, his world has abandoned him. The Hospitaller Order of Saint John of God is gone. In the face of death and fearing the devil will be waiting. Olrox has given him love, and he will be a companion in the hardest of times. He will not abandon Mizrak.

This aspect of the cross in the animatic gets expanded upon as time goes on. Both literally as the cross literally turns into a pool of blood more closely to the symbol Mizrak bares, but also it slowly expands upon Mizrak feeding off Olrox's love! I'll add some more of my personal notes when we get there!

Also by far one of my favourite scenes I've drawn. It's still rough but it decidedly made me go a lot cleaner with the rest of the storyboard!

This is supposed to be suddenly jarring because it cuts midway through Olrox in a midshot to a close-up of a hand! We need to see him actively halt Olrox for just a moment, but also to show that even when it's sudden- its not hostile, it's gentle.

This shot does a couple of things!

It showcases how gently Mizrak is reaching out to Olrox

It helps to continually establish Mizrak submission to vampirism. He is constantly placed on the bottom from the composition, or we as an audience, are always looking down at Mizrak! Seeing parts of Olrox here really cements this fact as Olrox towers over him to the point we don't even see him fully!

It helps to lead into the Fallen Angel reference!

This shot makes me sob because it is so gentle. Despite being placed constantly much higher in the composition in the animatic, therefore making him the most powerful in this dynamic- in no way Olrox is intentionally made out to be an intimidating figure. He is comfort. He is a companion. He will not abandon Mizrak. The act of turning Mizrak might be read as selfish. It may be read as cheating the natural cycle of life, it may be everything wrong and doomed as your mind makes it to be, however, it is done out of love. Morals, whether good or bad, no longer matters because Olrox is in love. Love has such a strong chokehold on this series, so I'm shoving as much love into these characters as I can. Both literally make these characters so sickly desiring love that it will be their doom and saving grace, but also me as an artist deeply putting love and thought into this board because care a lot about how to convey these complex emotions! Sure it is quite easy to churn out boards without care, but without putting care into your boards, your characters and stories lack life (in my personal opinion).

Immediately, this animatic shook me and told me to put in a reference to The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabnel!

Also, how does one portray the soul? EYES. Eyes are the window to the soul. Mizrak’s eyes are also considerably the most important/crucial part of his design. His eyes in both seasons ‘glow in the dark’ due to the highlights in his eyes. Mizrak is considerably really emotive too and that was important to me to emphasize. I wanted to capture his essence, his soul if you will, into this shot.

This is also why this shot is done really prettily if you will.

The reflection of Olrox's eye in Mizrak's is important here! Olrox is here to act to comfort Mizrak. Even when Olrox is not on the screen with us, he is majorly present here. He will not abandon Mizrak. Also, since it is coupled with this line, people can choose to infer what they wish with Olrox! It can symbolize Olrox does have a soul, it can symbolize how Olrox and Mizrak are now intertwined together, it can symbolize Mizrak reciprocating Olrox's love. The list can go on! I give that room for open interpretation (same as the rest of the animatic, the only reason I'm going through, breaking down almost shot by shot is that I deeply care about this sort of thing, and I know other people do too!)

This shot, is deceptively simple but it's here to actually initiate a bunch of scenes I wanted to happen after this!

Firstly, I needed a very nonchalant but easy way for Olrox to let go of Mizrak's hand without needing to overcomplicate. I needed something that gave it just enough importance for the hand kiss BUT not too much where it is the sole focus on the shot.

Secondly, I needed a way for Olrox to lean down to Mizrak and initiate him being way closer to him.

Thirdly, it acts to parallel another shot that happens with Mizrak where instead of going diagonally down, he goes diagonally up!

This is one of the points where I visually slightly deviate from the one-shot! I really REALLY wanted to emphasize Olrox's dialogue here so I chopped up and elongated the scene to make it that much more intense and tender. Which is why we get the next two close up shots!

Look it was very VERY important to me to have Olrox cup Mizrak's face and intentionally cut off his eyes. The important part I wanted to focus on solely was his hand and Mizrak looking up because genuinely, Mizrak's eyes are 'distracting' and it would remove the focus on the gesture! Also I am saving Mizrak's eyes for the next shot haha

After this shot too, you may notice the blood from his neck disappears for the rest of the animatic. This is because, after this, it began to take too much of a visual focus away from the blood on Olrox's chest since it is bright red against greys in the shot. We can chalk it up to Olrox wiping the blood off when he goes to cup him.

"The most beautiful soul a vampire can posses."

It was so important to me that we get a BEAUTIFUL shot of Mizrak. I needed the audience to see his entireeee face close up, unobscured by anything. Olrox is holding a beautiful soul in his hands. He's holding Mizrak. Actually makes me sob.

This shot by the way has been repeated 3 times with slight variations by this point. Yes, this is a very pretty shot so how could I not help but repeat it? HOWEVER, I was trying to make a reference to how Mizrak has said Olrox's name only 3 times in the show with a variation of what was said around it. After that, Olrox calls him my love, basically unlocking a new stage in their relationship.

So here, three times when he looks at Olrox, he's mentally calling out his name. After this, Olrox brings him to a new stage in the relationship.

Also in Catholicism, a lot of things are in 3s. One of the major ones is that three times, Christ fell over carrying the cross. On the third hour of that day, he died and on the third day, he was resurrected from the dead. The three sacraments that welcome someone into the Kingdom of God are Baptism, Communion, and Confirmation as they all build off one another! I could go on both those are the main points AND I feel you might get the gist now!

It was very important to me that when Olrox makes this promise, we HAVE to see his full face. This is why it's a close-up.

It lets for no shadow of a doubt that Olrox means what he says here. He's looking AT Mizrak. He's telling the truth to him.

This is a parallel to a much earlier shot of Olrox! He moves closer to Mizrak by going from top right to bottom left, while Mizrak moves closer to Olrox by going from bottom left to top right! You also both see them exit the screen too!

In this shot, we bring back that halo vibe but also this is a reference to S01E04 and S02E08! The curtain! It is BOTH their first-ever shots to establish a new scene, so I wanted to go “Hey this is establishing a new scene- a new life for Mizrak and Olrox.”

The camera is super purposefully cut just below the eyes. You can see them open then closed, but we will never ever get to see the look he had in his eyes, the single decision in his brain that let him indulge. That’s only for Olrox, and only Olrox will know.

From here on out, A LOT of the shots of Mizrak get segmented/have his face hidden for that reason too (except for one shot, also done intentionally).

When Mizrak actually closes his lips around the blood- it’s on the growling sound in the song. Mizrak has turned into the animal that he’s been calling vampires. In this new life, he is now given the choice to be freed from the man-made shackles of shame and guilt. To be untamed and unrestricted. A wild animal so to speak!

Honestly, I spent a lot of my time here (besides the pretty Olrox frames) because I was super particular about how I wanted to portray Mizrak giving into sucking the blood. The way he accepts vampirism is vital because it sets the tone and mood for how the rest of the board feel since his face gets hidden and you now have to infer from when you saw his face last.

If you have seen my analyses or my work before, you will know how much I enjoy having a frame within a frame. I loveeee my boxes! They're in the box! TOGETHER! THE CENTER TOO! There are no real divisions with the exception of Olrox's head which is important because it's not Mizrak we're focused on at this point in time, it's Olrox~

This is because the one-shot, even in third person, is mostly through Olrox's perspective!

Also, the camera is moving around in this shot, and the following subsequent shots! It hopefully gives off the "hand-held" feel, which often is associated with feeling as if you're right there in the moment with them.

Why pillows?

This is me shaking you to say how the blood-drinking is an allusion for sex if that wasn't already obvious enough. So showing pillows coupled with Olrox groaning really goes "Yes they are technically doing it."

Originally this shot (and the previous shot) was supposed to be way more pulled out, but I was saving it for the very last shot of the animatic so I went to pillows with the tinest hint of their body in the frame to make it seem super scandalous. Like what on earth could they be doing for me to cut them mostly out of the frame? Also also, the pillow was supposed to have an embroidery of a painting from 1790s or earlier BUT, for the life of me, I could not decide what I wanted and I did not want to keep reusing the same references I have had in past work. I didn't want to fuss about it for too long since its more of an easter egg rather than adding to the story. The main point is pillow = fucking HAHA.

Side tangent, you can get away with SO MUCH by having blood drinking be an allusion to sex. Like obviously when you have an age rating you must abide by, you must be creative with how you go about mature topics (my age rating is YouTube hahaha)! Not only is blood drinking in vampirism just inherently queer-coded, but the intimacy of it can convey so much more if it was just a regular ol' sex scene! I actually deeply enjoy conveying nsfw topics into art because you can discuss character dynamics at a much more vulnerable, raw state that literally bares them to just their essence and their current desires/needs. However I am getting off-topic, let's get back to it!

This shot was actually heavily inspired by the statue Adoration by Stephen Sinding!

While there are a lot of differences now simply because Mizrak is at Olrox's chest, I still hope that the vibe of that statue is still imbued. It also gives the sense of not only Olrox adoring Mizrak in this very moment, but Mizrak is too despite not seeing his face. Again quite intentional because it's only for Olrox to see.

Also, a lot of people have been telling me how Olrox is breastfeeding him, and in technicality, they're not wrong, he's feeding blood, from his chest. It is the funniest thing ever LOL

This shot was important to really focus in on his throat and how, much like in the one-shot, Mizrak is literally not taking breaths and is just continually consuming Olrox.

Wet sounds fill the room as his throat bobs with each steady gulp...He doesn’t stop, doesn’t take a moment to gasp for breath.

I also just wanted to make this scene feel very slow in order to contrast with a much more passion-filled desire that consumes Mizrak in this animatic! Also hopefully the descent of blood and the descent of the camera helps to strengthen the idea of Mizrak descending into vampirism!

It felt really cheesy to have this close-up shot of his eye HOWEVER at the time, I thought this was by far the clearest way to convey the immediate switch from gentle devotion to devouring devotion and how suddenly rapid it is. In my brain, the stylization for his eyes open would be textured and pulse in the same way Olrox's wrist did, which is why it's just outlined. I'm once again not 100% set on the pulse look and it probably needs some iterations if I ever came back to it again.

Also, the green hearts in his eyes only come through when he's actively consuming blood from his chest! The heart motif comes back later when Mizrak ends up throwing up the blood!

Here's the cross again, except it is growing bigger. This was very important to me that you see how "gentle" the blood-sucking is at first. A gentle devotion despite the "terrifying" shadow of Mizrak. Also, super an excuse to have kiss marks in my animatic, I love painting them in my art because it can say a lot with placement and how aggressively smudged they are!

Also, I thought it would be SO FUN to have Mizrak's turned self literally have his eyes overlay where Olrox's eyes are. It conveys how Mizrak and Olrox are now switching roles in this animatic! For the first half of this animatic, Olrox has been placed pretty high up in the shot composition, or where the camera looks up to put him in a high place of power! It makes him appear way more etheral and otherworldly, while Mizrak was placed lower in the composition, always looking up at him! Which I'm hoping invokes religious imagery of a God and his worshipper/follower!

When Mizrak's transformation is set, the dynamic switches up. For the rest of the animatic, Mizrak is now placed at a more supernatural/otherwordly position, while Olrox is just there passively, letting Mizrak BE in this position. He does not fight it, he embraces it, embraces how Mizrak reciprocates his love, his desire, and all his messy complications, much like how earlier in the animatic, Mizrak embraces vampirism.

Also if you slow it down enough you can see how I accidentally left my perspective grids in it HAHA, but it goes by fast enough it doesn't really matter! (I guess it's also kind of indicative of my natural style when it comes to digital painting too, I genuinely like having my sketch still peek through into the final painting!)

Wow even more shots to cement the new role switch AND how much much of the passionate need to consume is controlling his urges! Free to consume at his leisure, he is no longer bound by human nature (for now)!

This shot and his leg shot help to really strip Mizrak of his humanity. Faces in a shot really help to connect people to the characters because we see the emote, we see them breathe, we see them live. Especially for a character like Mizrak? He's super expressive face-wise and I'm purposefully not showing you the defining features of Mizrak. Here I am basically going "Mizrak is no longer human."

This is why in horror/thrillers with antagonist characters, we don't see their faces much and are saved for only key moments (usually, again your intentionality matters). It doesn't allow us to connect with the character on a much more human level. Think of Count Orlok from Nosferatu (2024). Purposefully a lot of his character is shrouded in darkness, focusing on his hands and other aspects, never his face, and even then it is really hard to make out because so much of him is obscured. It makes him that much of an imposing intimidating character! Otherworldly and something that we cannot fully understand.

This is a flipped version of Mizrak's close-up eye shot much earlier when he asked if his soul would remain. Again to hark on how Mizrak and Olrox are switching roles in this animatic! Olrox is looking at Mizrak's soul as we speak.

Despite us not seeing Mizrak's face, we as an audience noticing how unhuman Mizrak has suddenly become, Olrox looks quite gently at him and that was important to convey!

Woo! Lot's of horizontal lines here! While the camera is moving towards the left, Mizrak is moving right!

Originally this shot was going to have Mizrak's teeth sinking into Olrox like a very cool Olrox throwing his head back and Mizrak's fang reveal HOWEVER, I want to leave the "carnage" and bloodshed of the feeding out of the frame and only have it show up in very specific moments so I can have those moments actually have their proper impacts. I did not want to show any part of the front of his face at all since it would dampen the effect later on, so I opted for this instead. The legs give a sense of "something is happening but we don't know what, but it's to a point where Mizrak's entire body is moving oh jeez." Won't lie, this looks very sexual and I'm purposefully toying with that line again because blood drinking is an allusion to sex.

Also, I'm continuing the concept of having aspects of Mizrak's face only for Olrox's eyes. What does he look like when he's actively consuming him with such passion? Idk, Olrox you tell me.

This is everything I was building up for when I introduced the small crosses! The physical manifestation of how Mizrak reciprocates.

My thought process here was that Mizrak only knows how to love by fully devoting himself because that's all he's done for God. So he applies it here. He is reciprocating love, but it is FULL ON. It is intense. It is all-consuming.

The face once again is obscured for all the reasons I have mentioned before, but also it REALLY helps to really hard cut to Mizrak choking on the blood after because before it seemed like he was doing just fine. He is literally looking DOWN at Olrox, he takes up A LOT of the screen with just his back and head. He literally gets pulled into full focus while Olrox is blurred in the background. He appears like he is in control of the situation, however it could not be further from the truth.

Also, I was mostly inspired by the insane amount of bible verses talking about blood, so I'll drop some of those here!

John 6:53-56 ESV

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

Ezekiel 16:6 ESV 

“And when I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’ I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’

Matthew 26:28 ESV

"For this is my [Christ's] blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."

Absolute contrast to most of the other shots, not only because I decided to add way more character acting here, but it's because we actually see his FULL face. It's intentional because Mizrak realizes himself now so we need to see him have this reaction. I wanted to show that he is still a person. He still has a soul. He may not be human, but he does have a mind that can think and a heart that can love. He still retains human qualities.

He's choking on all the blood (a physical manifestation of love) and his body is rejecting it. He's not used to consuming this amount of love and he's not used to being self-indulgent. It's deeply overwhelming.

I wanted to say I LOVED drawing blood it is SO FUN, planning the camera movement, and how Mizrak coughs at specific moments was sooo fun. I wanted this to be MESSY AND INTENSE. I wanted the audience to feel the weight of Mizrak's sudden distraught. I wanted to throw him around and to really hark on this line from the one-shot.

What has he done? What has been done to him? What has he become?

It helps to deeply contrast with how still and gentle the next scene is!

Yes, that is right, Olrox's pupils are DILATED :)

Coupled with the fact that the blood splatters are hearts! They're outlined in cyan! Olrox has a massive heart-shaped blood splatter on his cheek while Mizrak has a few heart-shaped splatters BUT there are gaps in his bloodied mouth that create heart shapes as if Mizrak spewed out those hearts!

Firstly this is because Mizrak literally eats at his chest where the heart is. Secondly, I'm again pushing for Mizrak to consume and throw up his love due to how overwhelming it is. Not only is Olrox's love for him literally beyond his imagination, but Mizrak is trying to love back in with that same amount of passion and utter devotion. A lot is happening for this new-born vampire that is pushing and pulling at him. His emotional state is so overwhelming that it is manifested in physical form.

The green reflections are shown to visually communicate Olrox anchoring Mizrak back, as, throughout the animatic, it is one of the things that ease or calm him down. I could not portray it through voice BUT I can portray it via visual (guys walk with me here, imagine the insane combo of audio and visual, it would be so tasty). The sole reason why I did not have hearts in his eyes here is simply because I reserved the heart motif for when he's actively drinking out of Olrox's chest (so he's literally consuming his love) or when he's spitting out the blood!

Also, the reason why I cut to his eyes rather than pan to them is purely because I wanted the violence of his mouth to be suddenly jarring to the gentleness in his eyes. I didn't want the slow reveal, I wanted the "OMG the blood- aw Mizrak...."

"Lulled into a sense of hazy compliance by Olrox’s voice, the former monk carefully lowers himself and continues though not for long."

This final shot was soooo important to me to include. The “musty inn room” was mentioned much earlier during Mizrak’s transformation but there was a poeticism by having what is considerably the blossoming moment of their complicated relationship be the final shot. With the lyrics also ending with "Take me back to Eden" how could I not? Clearly, both the rooms between s01e4 and s02e8 are parallel to each other. The only difference is that s02e8 has the room be both red AND GREEN, while s01e4 is just earthy/green. Olrox has taken them both back to their earthly paradise. This is their Garden of Eden.

Woo ok and we're done! Also yes I do thumbnails for these, it's half the reason why I'm fast (this entire animatic, cleaned and everything, was done in 3 days good lord. Is that fast? I can't tell) I make the barest of bones chicken scratch of sketches to get a feel of pace/vibe, then I do my roughs/cleans and add/take away shots necessary for the story that needs to be told. I normally would not let this see the light of day because these are AWFUL BUT, this post is also half a documentation of my personal process so I'm going to close my eyes and share this HAHA

If you got this far, thank you for reading me geek out about this! I find a lot of joy in the visual storytelling medium. As much as I do enjoy animating, (wow could you guys tell in the name?) I have a deep love and passion for storyboarding personally and I get sit back, and enjoy crafting the entire picture! I still have a long way to go but I'm having fun and I'm pursuing my passions of storytelling!

I desperately want to make more animatics, dealing with different tones, pace etc, but I genuinely have to go prioritize other things for now that will help me build these skills hahaha. I say this but who knows, seeing my current track record haha, look I can do both. I follow wherever my creativity takes me. I may have missed a few things but I have to wrap this up now!

Thank you again! The final takeaway, go watch Castlevania again and go be inspired by animation <33333

[stvrnloghost]

————————————————

“so new”

In which your new boyfriend Matt finally shows you how you should’ve been taken care of all along.

⚠︎ warnings: fluff, smut, use of pet names (angel, baby ect) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (WRAP IT!!) just matt being a big softy!

“Fuck I know angel..j—ooohhh shitttt…just hang in there f’ me, m’ so close.”

————————————————

Before Matt you were really not much to anyone. No one got to know you, only sticking around for your body which hurt but you’d never admit that. You craved love, you craved gentle touches pure innocence. Or hell maybe even some gentle sex and not being treated like a rag doll thrown around—used for others pleasure.

The moment you met Matt you knew you wanted him. In any way you could have him. He was sweet, always giving you gum every day in class because you asked for a piece one fucking time now he always has your favortie flavor ready to go, he was talking to you like you mattered, constantly trying to learn stuff about you that he sure as hell will remember—just he was always in awe. You on the other hand were constantly trying to catch his eye, which of course you did. You were confident, loud, and sweet. Yet he could see more than just that behind those pretty eyes of yours which he always stares at and—

.He wanted to get to know you not just your body

————————————————

So finally a few months ago Matt asked you out. Of course you said yes. It was all new to you the dates, the innocent touches. Feeling loved and not just for your body. He was gentle constantly reminding you how pretty you are inside and out. At first you were confused why he wanted to even date you—the schools biggest slut, with nothing but a nice ass body, and who’s been around with almost everyone.

He just simply loved you. How couldn’t he? You had nice style, you were a really sweet girl. You were selfless which he hates and loves it at the same time. He wanted you too feel the love you deserve the gentleness, the dates, the flowers, holding hands, he wanted you too know you were more than just your body. You weren’t something to be used. He was gonns treat you how you were supposed to be treated all along.

————————————————

Loud almost pathetic moans slipped from past your swollen lips. Matt was above you his eyes squeezed shut and eye brows pinched together. It was a sight for sure, but it also felt so good. He was being so gentle treating you like glass making you comfortable.

He let out another grunt as his hips snapped forward burying himself deep inside you once again. He slowly peeled his eyes open to meet your fucked out gaze—your eyes half lidded and hazy, eye brows pinched together just like his, and your jaw slack letting out breathless moans.

“F-nngh..I know angel…oh fuuuuucckkkk y’ so tight.” He murmured out his eyes threatening to close again as you both fall into the pure euphoria of this. His dick plunging deep inside your spongy wet walls, the lewd squelching noises coming from your cunt as he fucks in and out of you.

He let out a grunt feeling your walls fluttering around him, you were getting close. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open letting out little pleas and whines. He reached his hand up and brushed a sweaty lock of hair out of your face he could almost cum at the sight of you—but no you were finishing first and you were his top priority.

“Matttttt oooooohhh.” You manage to get out as your legs start to shake slightly. “Cmon good—nghh girl…cmon cum f’ me please?” He murmured out pressing gentle kisses down from your temple to your jaw. The second he murmured those words to you it’s like a wave crashed over you. Letting out loud moans and arching your back as you finished around him, a white ring forming at the base of his dick.

He trailed his lips back up your face letting out louder grunts and moving his hips a little faster plunging deep inside you. His mouth was open breath fanning against your flushed cheek as you whines and squirmed under him. “Fuck I know angel..j—ooohhh shitttt…just hang in there f’ me, m’ so close.” He breathes out.

You tilted your head to the side to meet his gaze your lips and noses brushing against eachother as you arched under him. “Fuck..m’ gonna cum.” He grunts out before he could pull out you wrapped your legs around his waist and let out a whine. “Please wan’ it in me.” You whispered out.

You never let a guy even think of cumming in you. But you trusted Matt so much and this is the best and most comfortable fucking sex you’ve ever even had. The second those words slipped out of your mouth, matts hips stuttered and he let out loud groans as he breathed out your name, his sticky white cum painting your inner walls.

You two stayed like that for a minute, coming down from your highs. Finally he eased out of your dripping cunt quickly cooing at you as you let out a hiss and whined. “Shhh s’ okay let’s just get you some water mkay?” He murmured out pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

He slowly got up and went into the bathroom, as quick as he could he got a hot wash cloth and threw on some boxers. Once he was back in the room with two water bottles and a wash cloth he immediately began fussing over you.

“Let’s clean you up hm angel…yeah?” He whispers out prying open your achy legs and bringing the warm towel to your cunt, which was dripping with his and your release. “I know I know shhh..” he murmured out when you started to whine from the slight overstimulation.

You quickly chugged your water before placing it on the night stand. “M’ hungry too..” you whisper out an almost shy, and guilty smile forming on your face—you definitely weren’t used to being taken care of. And one part of you felt guilty for even asking him to do something for you, you felt like you didn’t deserve it.

—————————————————

By the end of the night you realized how much you felt at peace. His reassurance, his love, his sweetness, his gentle touches. They all made you feel needed, like you were actually meant to be loved like this. And it all felt—so new

a/n: THANK YOU FOR READING I HOPE ITS GOOD IVE NEVER WRITTEN A FIC BEFORE BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

ALSO PLEASS SEND STUFF TO MY INBOX I LOVE IT!!!

SORRY ITS SHORT!!

Taglist- @sturnsrecord

[threebea]

Tiny Obi-Wan and Yoda just sat down somewhere having extremely Old Man conversations.

Mace: ....

Obi-Wan: you cannot imagine the things I can eat. No problem. No stomach upset. The fact Dex hasn't opened his diner yet is a travisty.

Yoda: Decades in exile subsisting on frogs I have been.

Obi-Wan: Yes, but those are good for you.

Yoda: Desire cake I do. One hundred years too late for it we are. Rubbing it in you are.

Obi-Wan: Well there must be some silver linings. The knees are nice too, but I can't reach anything.

Yoda: hmph, perspective you have gained perhaps?

Obi-Wan: not at this height.

Yoda: (laughs and gives him gentle whack with his cane) lost your cheek you have not, Master Kenobi

⭐

Obi-Wan: (notices Mace) oh, Master, please join us.

Mace: ... (Sits down)

Obi-Wan: (Sighs like an old man) I must say I'm glad not to be on the council at the moment. Have you read my proposal on Hutt investments portfolios? I know you're busy with Xanatos' nonsense, but if we move soon we could prevent Jabba from gaining ground in thirty years.

Mace: you should be learning how to mix colours with paint, not sending me paperwork in the middle of the night, Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan: (gestures to neat paint pallet with colours mixed) I already know how to do that.

Yoda: doubt that I do. Knowing is not understanding.

Obi-Wan: that doesn't even mean anything. You can't tease me just because I'm small now.

Yoda: size matters not. Tease you I always will.

Obi-Wan: well that's true (eye roll)

Mace: I have enough paperwork Kenobi. Stop sending me paperwork.

Obi-Wan: well I would send it to another Master, but you're the only one that knows of my predicament and you won't let me use your name, and Master Yoda has always been awful with written proposals, no one would believe it.

Yoda (has brought out the paints Obi-Wan had with him and has started mixing colours)

Mace: Master you can't just mix paint on the tile!

Yoda: fear the mess it will make, hmm?

Obi-Wan: you're impossible. (Starts doing it as well) I never enjoyed making a mess, even at this age.

Yoda: fear of the future that is.

Obi-Wan: here he goes.

Yoda: to live in the moment, without fear of the mess of the future, that is the way of a Jedi.

Mace: (watches the two of them paint pictures on the ground. It's a complete mess)

Obi-Wan: I don't fear the future.

Yoda: hah!

Obi-Wan: I'm stressed! Stressed isn't the same thing as fear.

Yoda: come from fear stress does. Anxiety. Make a cloud you should.

Obi-Wan: (examines his tile of art work, adds a cloud)

Yoda: stress Master Mace has trouble with too. (Pointedly looking at Mace who is just watching the mess unfold)

Mace: (sighs, takes the hint, sits on the floor and dips his finger in the purple Obi-Wan mixed) I have many things to do.

Yoda: but right now you are painting.

Mace: I can't tell if you're both being serious or messing with me.

Obi-Wan: it can be both, Master. (Makes a face) I'm going to have blue hands for a week.

Mace: have you always been anxious, Master Kenobi? You always seem very confident and composed. It was eerie when we first met, seeing a child so poised.

Obi-Wan: yes, well I don't want anyone to know I'm anxious. Too many people rely on me.

Yoda: like someone else that is.

Mace: well... Right now you're at an age you don't need to be so independent.

Obi-Wan: I'm older than you are, Master. My crude matter doesn't reflect who I am inside. I can't just turn off my worries. It was easier in the end. In the desert... But it's hard to grasp now. I found my balance and peace, but in the here and now I find myself at odds with my knowledge. Every stray thought and memory of something that could be changed for the better.

Mace: changing the future is dangerous.

Obi-Wan: not changing it is more dangerous.

Mace: if you become obsessed you risk losing yourself. You need an anchor.

Obi-Wan: I know. (Focuses back on his painting) The future is always in motion. I am not changing anything. I am simply existing in the now. The ripples for good or ill can rarely be controlled or focused. However is it not my duty to follow where the Force has led me and do good?

Mace: ... (I feel very young suddenly)

Yoda: talk too much you do, Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan: well it's been awhile since anyone has been kind enough to listen, Master Yoda. Force knows you don't have the attention for it.

Yoda: accuse me of senility do you? Focused I am on the present (gestures at his paint mess). Rambling on the old days you are.

Obi-Wan: who is the more senile? The old man or the old man that tries to talk to him?

Mace: (looking at the five year old who just said that. He has a splotch of blue paint on his cheek) no more proposals in the middle of the night, Kenobi. You'll get an ulcer at six.

Obi-Wan: (prim and proper) and when exactly did you get your first stress ulcer Master Windu?

Yoda: (laughs) twenty-two he was.

Mace: just paint.

Terrible Fic Ideas #3: Re-Entry, but make it Obi-Wan and Yoda

If you've not noticed by now, I'm the biggest sucker for Time Travel Fix-Its that ever existed, and one of my absolute favorites is the Re-Entry series by the ever-wonderful flamethrower. In that series, post-RotJ Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent back to 4 years before TPM to save the Republic, and it's an absolutely wonderful ride. But one thing I've always wanted is Yoda to be thrown back in time in one of these fix-its.

Imagine it:

Yoda is the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. He has the ability to make lasting changes to the order in a way that young Padawan or newly knighted Obi-Wan alone couldn't. He's also had ~25 years alone in a swamp without even the passing human contact Obi-Wan got on Tatooine to reflect on all the things that went wrong, and stuck around as a Force Ghost at least until TLJ.

Not that I imagine TLJ happening in this AU - to kick it off I imagine Luke not managing to make it off the second Death Star after Anakin dies, and Anakin and Leia's anguish in the Force managing to hurl the watching Force ghosts into the pasts, where they can keep Luke's death from ever happening.

And so you have Yoda and Obi-Wan being thrown back to, say, 52 BBY. Obi-Wan, now only five years old, wakes his crechemate's up with a "vision", and for decades afterwards the younglings swear that on certain nights you can year an echo of absolute and complete anguish in the Force.

But the end result is the same: 5 year old Obi-Want has his memories of the next 52 years alive and 4 additional years of being a Force ghost. The transition is somewhat less abrupt for Yoda, who is 800+ at this time.

Unlike Re-Entry, the only one Yoda and Obi-Wan tell (at least at first) that they've traveled through time is Mace - and only then because Obi-Wan is very obviously not a normal 5 year old anymore. (And even then it's more of an accident Mace finds out. Instead Yoda just sort of pushes Mace at Obi-Wan "to help him get a handle on his visions and train him in the ways of the Force", and in the end Mace finally puts two and two together after sort of assuming he's just going crazy or being punked.)

Actually, confused!babysitter Mace is half the drive for this plot bunny. He's so confused and Yoda is being even more of a troll than usual, and he's not prepared at all to deal with such a small child, but honestly half the time it feels like Obi-Wan is the one taking care of him, and just so much confusion.

Together, between Yoda being the Grandmaster and Obi-Wan's weaponized cuteness as a youngling, they are able to prevent some things that contribute to the fall of the Republic. (Galidraan et al).

Obi-Wan is taken as Mace's Padawan fairly young, and no one really considers it too be too odd how good he is so young given that Mace was his Master and Yoda's been his mentor since the creche, but he's definitely considered to be an odd child. As one might expect of a ~60 year old being suddenly stuffed into his 5 year old body. When it eventually comes out that he's a time traveler, it answers a lot things people didn't realize they were questioning.

But mostly confused!babysitter Mace, troll!Yoda, and baby!Obi-Wan.

As always, feel free to adopt the bunny. Just link if you end up doing anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Ok I didn't expect Ace's Dream to end up this way, so now I have to tell you guys about it too:

The gang lands in a beach and Cater's having fun with Silver's UM, even taking a video but needing music as an overlay because of Grim's screams 😭. It's quite hot and Sebek asks if we're in Ace's hometown, that's when Deuce replies that Ace lives near the capital of Queendom of Roses while he lives in the southern area.

We also learn more about Cater and Idia as we're exploring the area. Other than skateboarding, Cater also likes to surf and snowboard. Idia tries to talk smack but Ortho butts in by telling the group that he's just like Cater as he rode a vehicle called a "Barca" to race around Island of Woe (and apparently you need a broomstick license and a special vehicle license to handle one).

We reach a vacation house where we find Ace, who's happy to see Deuce, Cater, Yuu and Grim, but is surprised to see the others (Leona, Idia, Silver and Sebek)

We also see Riddle in this dream, who's all decked out in vacation wear (from the Stitch event) that even Cater's surprised. But Dream! Riddle simply wanted to dress the part and even pulled Cater aside for a bit to asked if he looked weird. Sebek thinks that there's no way Riddle would wear something like that irl and that's just Ace's personlaity showing while Silver doesn't see anything wrong as Riddle said this is what people on the beach.

Trey also shows up wearing the Silk City outfit. It turns out that Trey's clothes, the house, and island they're all currently in were lended to them by Kalim's family. Dream! Trey asks Cater why he's in his dorm uniform when he was wearing something different earlier while taking pictures. Cater plays along by saying that he didn't want to get them dirty while cooking, which Dream! Trey believed.

Ace asks us if we want to change our clothes because our dorm uniform looks really stuffy with the weather right now. Leona warns Yuu to not get carried away. We find out that Ace's dream is a celebration for Yuu...because they found a way back to their world. Riddle explains further that not only has Crowley found a way to return Yuu to their world, but he also found a way for Yuu to visit Twisted Wonderland anytime they want to. Stop I'm not okay it's the way that Ace's dream is just wanting people to continue on with their studies safely and Yuu gets to go back home and visit them anytime is just 😭💔

Dream! Riddle suggests that Deuce and the others should go change to more fitting clothes for this occasion. While Cater volunteers with Idia, Leona and Silver to help Trey with the cooking, but really he just uses it as an excuse to discuss what he has observed. He tells Leona about the plan to look out for Ace as Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey are most likely darkness, and Leona's impressed with how fast he's catching up with the dream mechanics. Even Idia finds it a bit creepy.

But Cater's already used to making the first move to avoid conflict. His plan was to use the first years as they're the only ones who are closer to Ace, meaning that they have a better chance of cracking him while the others keep the NPCs distracted. While the seniors are helping the NPCs, the freshmen are trying to brew up a plan. Ortho brings up the clue having needing a big "shock" from reality, but Sebek said he's useless here since he only meets Ace in electives and let's the main gang handle it.

Deuce goes first, telling Ace that this is all just a dream created by Malleus and that they still haven't found a way for Yuu to go home. He also brings up that we still haven't contacted Mickey yet, Ace doesn't believe them but Deuce (with Grim this time) continue to push him further; this causes him (Ace) to start to disorient. Deuce tells Ace to calm down but he thinks they're just lying but Ortho vouches for them and tells him that they're not. It even goes to the point of Ace asking Yuu if what they're saying is true.

Grim latches himself onto Ace, repeatedly screaming that they're not lying; triggering another flashback. But Ace just chews us out for taking the joke too far, and that we shouldn't ruin the vibes of the vacation. That's when Sebek butts in, calling Ace shallow for ignoring the pleas of his friends. But Ace counters that Sebek couldn't read the room for randomly joining a vacation he has no involvement in.

Sebek replies that he didn't even want to go with the others, but here's just here because he needs to wake Ace up. But Ace's response to the whole dream thing is just him being apathetic, not caring if it's reality or not. Because he thinks if you've lived in a dream long enough, it's not longer a dream isn't it? But a new reality, and not a lot of people can say they're living life without hardship. It's like he already weighed all the outcomes and possibilities of the situation he's in.

Sebek argues back that he cares about Malleus, which is why he and Silver are trying to wake everyone to save him. Because to him, he doesn't want to continue if it means leaving Malleus alone. But Ace doesn't sympathize, he actually blames Malleus for their current predicament and if he gets lonely; he brought it upon himself. To Ace, Sebek's being selfish for ruining his dream just to go and save the one who caused the problem to happen; and to ask Ace's help to defeat Malleus? That's pretty much a death sentence (now Ace isn't exactly a saint either, both are selfish as to how much are they willing to sacrifice for the people they care about). Ace runs away, and that's when Ortho asks the question: if it were someone else, would Sebek hold the same dedication to wake everyone up? Deuce blames Sebek for this, whihc he goes "HUH? WHY ME?!"

Ortho agress with Deuce, Sebek got too emotional and Ace had a point with what he was saying. Sebek tries to defend himself by saying that it's for Malleus and Lilia but what he did is still considered selfish by anyone's standards. Even Ortho admits that's he's selfish too, and also helped because Idia was in trouble; not everyone is forced to do this.

The seniors are back and they all agree with Ace that he isn't exactly necessary to the plan. We actually get to see Silver get mad at Sebek for causing this whole mess, not realizing that his behavior does have consequences. Once again, Sebek tries defending himself but Silver wasn't having it; leaving him no choice but to submit.

Idia says that even if everyone teams up, it's not guaranteed that they can defeat Malleus and Silver prefers not to force people to fight. Even Leona acknowledges that Ace's current magical prowess is just that of an ordinary mage, and that they can simply move on without him (Deuce, Yuu and Grim are saddened by this).

Cater says that Ace is probably frustrated and alone right now, so he chooses to look for him to help him "sleep" without the interference of Leona or Idia. Cater leaves with Yuu, Grim, and Deuce going after him (the others follow suit too just to make sure nothing bad happens). Yuu catches up with him and tries to convince to let them talk to Ace one more time. But Cater affirms that he doesn't intend to leave Ace here and has a plan (awww)

So Cater was right, he finsd Ace alone thinking about the things the others have told him. He lends an ear as he listens to Ace rant about the whole thing, and he agrees that his reaction to everything was normal; but then he suddenly goes "what they're saying is actually true tho" then HE SUMMONS HIS CLONES TO BEAT ACE'S ASS NAURRR 😭😭😭

This causes Dream! Riddle and Dream! Trey to appear and they're mad at Cater for attacking Ace. EVEN DREAM! DEUCE AND DREAM! CATER APPEAR but they just take Ace away. Ortho tries to intervene but the others stop him. With Leona telling the others that Cater asked to not be interfered and Deuce adding that it was also his plan to find a way to trigger the darkness.

Cater's plan is working, as Ace starts to become aware of his surroundings; that the things his dorm mates are saying are stuff they wouldn't say in real life. He also points out that how can someone like him help defeat Malleus, and that he's scared. The darkness actually reveals Ace's vulnerable and we're just watching it from afar. Silver notices that Ace is being persuaded by the darkness but Idia knows that Ace is clever, that's when Leona chimes in that Ace realizes that there's always going to be someone stronger than him, thus knowing his limits. That's when Idia's like "brotha aren't you just talking about yourself?", cue Leona trying to break his tablet.

We also learn more about how the Dark Mirror chooses its students, while the qualities in which one gets sorted into a dorm remains vague it usually chooses people who leave a mark on history in the future.

Okay going back to Ace, Cater brings up that time during Riddle's overblot and about how quick they were to jump into action. He thanks him for inspiring to fight against their Housewarden that day, also adding that going into fights that are "winnable" seem lame and that he's scared too, but they have to fight. Ace actually starts crying, because he doesn't want to look like a coward and that's what wakes him up.

Cater helps Ace out of the darkness and calls for the others for backup. After that, Grim and Deuce are mad at Ace for trying to stay in the dream. He also nags to Cater about him using his UM on him, but it was the only way to get him to wake up. They show Ace the video and now his pissed at Malleus, but Grim's like "weren't you scared of him earlier???".

Silver thanks Ace for his help and also apologizes for Sebek's behavior, in which Ace blames Lilia and Silver for spoiling him and Sebek's like "I'M NOT SPOILED BY SILVER 😡". Ortho did mention that Sebek looked awkward after their argument and suggests that he should apologize but Idia replies that he has too much of a pride to do so. Ace just bullies Sebek lmao, forgiving him with his "whole heart".

Cater steps in before it gets any worse, and we get ADeuce saying "Dream Form Change" now. Ace still doesn't want to fight Malleus, but given the circumstance he doesn't really have a choice. Once shown his dummy version, Grim just laughs at his outfit and Cater comments on the fruits

The dream ends with the first years complaining about how cramped it is and Leona just tells Silver to get on with it.

And that ends Ace's Dream, took me awhile to get this out because we actually learn a lot about him in this one and I really tried my best to give him justice yknow?

We're off to Trey's Dream next, see you then!

Previous: Cater's Dream Next: Trey's Dream

(Note: This post is a summarized version of the update, info and pics comes from @/LBucchie, @/WitchDrug, and @/acesuuu on x/twt, give them some support if you can)

[em1989ts]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 1.3k

masterlist - based on this request

summary: you and five finally get to live the life you've been fighting for, but he has a hard time adjusting

content: hurt/comfort, death in a nightmare, angst, fluff

author's note: thanks again for the request!! i listened to peace on repeat the entire time i was writing this cause it's just so five, it also happens to be one of my fav taylor songs! my inbox is always open so if you got a request please send it in :) enjoy !!

not proofread!

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

~~~

You never thought there’d be the day where you and Five would live together. 

You’ve always pictured getting your own place, maybe even a cat, and living that beloved domestic life, but you didn't think it would actually happen.

It seemed like every single time you thought you were safe, another problem quickly made itself known. 

But it’s been a few months since the universe was reset, so you finally started to let your guard down. 

There seemed to be no apocalypse or assassins following the two of you around in your new lives.

That weight had left your shoulders, yet you could tell it still weighed Five down. 

You were both living normal lives now, blending in with the world around you.

Each of the Hargreeves siblings had gone down their own path in life for the second time, and it was time for Five to have the comfortable, normal life you’d always hoped he would have.

Five worked with the CIA, while you worked at a café a couple blocks away from your apartment.

He initially wanted you to stay home, knowing he could provide more than enough for the both of you, but he knew you wanted to live your own life too. 

Now that you had all the time in the world, he watched as you gradually grew into your best self. 

You explored hobbies, gaining exciting interests you never knew you had, which he admired so dearly. 

All he ever wanted was to see you so happy. 

But the constant fear of allowing himself to be happy and settled only for that to be ripped away from him never left his mind. 

After the universe was reset and the two of you lost your powers, Five grew extremely anxious. 

Sure, the two of you had learned combative skills and you were both excellent at defending yourselves, but what if? 

That question burned through his mind. 

What if the Handler came back? 

What if the apocalypse came back? 

What if someone hurt you? 

What if he couldn’t protect you?

“Ouch-” 

Five looked down at his hand, turning slightly pink after he burned it against his mug. 

“You okay?” you asked from your seat at the island in your kitchen, looking up from your book.

You had noticed he was particularly stressed today, but you could tell he didn’t feel like talking about it. 

He had checked the lock on the door at least four times now. Even the balcony doors were locked with the curtains drawn, blocking the moonlight from entering the mostly dark apartment.

You knew it was hard for him to adjust to a normal life. He had been so focused on surviving for so many years he forgot what it was like to live. 

You had tried to help him, and sometimes it worked. He would dance with you while your Frank Sinatra records played in your cozy living room. He would try out new recipes with you. 

You loved it most when you could just enjoy each other's company, without a care in the world how much time had passed, because it was never a waste. 

The two of you would spend hours together, wrapped up in each other arms or simply leaning on each other. Sometimes you would talk, sometimes you would just enjoy the intimate silence. 

You didn’t like the silence now though, as you watched his furrowed brows and shaking hands. 

You knew it was hard for him to bring up how he felt. His family always shoved his feelings so far down their list of problems he never felt like they would be important to you. 

As much as you reassured him he could always talk to you about anything, he still didn’t want to be a burden. 

“I’m fine,” he picked up his mug with one hand and walked around the island over to you. He held your head and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“I’m heading to bed,” he said quietly, “Love you.”

You smiled, “Love you, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

As he walked into your shared bedroom, you couldn’t help but worry about the man you cared so much about, and you wish you knew how to help him. 

~~~

It was happening again. 

He was running. 

There was so much smoke. 

So many flames. 

So many bodies. 

He frantically looked around, until his eyes landed on the one body he couldn’t handle seeing in such a state. 

He was too late. If only he ran faster, if only he couldn’t stopped this, if only he could’ve saved you. 

His knees hit the gravel.

He screamed but he couldn’t hear himself. 

He hear your voice calling for him

 Your mouth was undefinable, but he could tell it wasn’t moving. 

The smoke filled his lungs. He couldn’t breathe

“Five!” 

~~~

He sat straight up. The cold air hit his sweat covered chest as the sheets flew forward. 

He was still screaming as he tried to pry his eyes open with his hands, scratching the vision out of his head. 

You were still saying his name and you reached for his eyes, grabbing them tightly and bringing them away from his face. 

His eyes were bloodshot and he was shaking intensely, but once his sight focused on you he caged you in with his arms and started bawling. 

You had never witnessed one of his nightmares get so bad. 

Of course, he’d had several ever since you’d moved in together but he’s never been this disturbed by one.

You could feel his tears in your hair and you could slightly make out his muffled chanting. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Your heart was breaking just seeing him like this, you couldn’t bear him so distressed.

You tried to calm him down as he held you, with soothing whispers and coos to calm his breathing and heart rate. 

Once he seemed less frantic, you peeled his arms off you and sat in front of him, holding his hands. 

“What happened?” You asked him softly, brushing his hair off his forehead. 

He looked as though we were going to cry all over again but he looked down and said, “I lost you.” 

“It wasn’t real, Five,” you reassured him, “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

You held his face in your palms, looking into his green eyes. 

It pained you to see him so worried.

He held his hand over yours, “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am,” you smiled sadly at him. 

“We don’t have to worry about the apocalypse anymore,” you reassured him, “There’s no more commission. There’s nothing coming after us, we’re safe.” 

He signed, taking your hands off his cheeks and holding them in his lap, tracing the lines along your palms. 

“I want more than anything for you to feel safe, Five. I don’t want to see you so scared to live a normal life, one that we’ve been fighting for so long for.” 

A tear ran down his cheek, which you wiped away with your thumb. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just- I want you to be happy. I don’t mean to bother-”

“Please don’t,” you cut him off. 

You grabbed the comforter and pulled it over the two of you, tucking you both in. 

As you faced him, you said, “You don’t need to apologize.” 

Pulling him in, you felt his face bury into your chest as your fingers combed through his dark hair. His breathing slow, his body warm against you, his heart rate slowing. 

“As long as I get to live this life with you, Five, I’m happy.” 

~~~

[bluemerakis]

𝜗𝜚 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⌇FIRST BOT RELEASE ˚.⋆ ~

──────────────────────

──────────────────────

𝚂𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚈 X 𝙽𝙾𝙽-𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙺𝙴𝚁 .ᐟ 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

⌖ based on the fic ── ❝ memory foam ❞

──── synopsis ۶ৎ soldier boy’s taken it upon himself to try and teach you how to roll a blunt, but he’s never been renowned for having patience—and when you’re testing him in all the wrong ways, he’s prepared to teach you a lesson you simply can’t ignore.

to immerse yourself in this slutty universe, click here. don’t be shy—please also drop me a follow on c.ai if you haven’t already .ᐟ

reblogs are deeply appreciated .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 (my fragile ego said so)

edit: *clears throat awkwardly* so it’s come to my attention that bitch ass c.ai is not showing the bot……….. and so im gonna wait and see if it resolves or try and make another one (which i RLLY don’t wanna do). sorry yall this was a major moodkiller 😔.

edit 2: I UPDATED THE LINK AND IT SHOULD WORK NOW!!!

──────────────────────

an — if any links aren’t working, please LMK!!! i know what an ass c.ai can be. n e ways. this is my first ever bot—making it was scary. shitting my pants scary. i never wanna do this again scary (but i will bc i’m masochistic like that). IF IT SUCKS ASS IM SORRY. GO EASY ON ME,,, I WILL GET BETTER AS I LEARN. but this took so fucking long that i just need to pass it to the next person like a game of hot potato. so i hope you all enjoy this little freak of my making and i am really sorry for what may go down in the dms. my brows waggled as i typed that. ok bye. i love u all sm. actually GAS ME UPPP for following through bc bot making was something i thought i’d NEVER get to AND I DID ITTTT. ok back to ghost mode.

tags — @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @angelicjackles @deansbbyx @titsout4jackles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @honeyryewhiskey @floralscented @deansbeer @deansbbyx @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @whisperingdaze @st4rmarley @bakugotypecrashout @jaydensluv @chi-raz @youdontknowe @misatxox @lixiesbrowniess @ilovedeanwinchester4 @soldiersgirl

[bakdbfi]

This chapter was a fucking soap opera

Spoilersand rambling because yeah

Poor thoma realized he can't have more than one boyfriend. IT WAS A BITCH ASS MOVE TO CUT OFF THE CHAPTER AT THIS PART! WE KNOW THEY Aren't GONNA SHOW US ANY OF THIS AND ITS GONNA BE SOME OFF SCREEN BULLSHIT

They did it with the festival thing, they did it with apparently us comforting lyca and they're gonna do it again here I BET MONEY ON IT.

I'm kinda worried about Jin's mental health, it's already not the best but now he's under the assumption that one of his closest allies has been lying to him this entire time no wonder he was barely in this chapter I'd be pretty fucked up too. Jin isn't close to legit anyone else besides Thoma and we see the way he gets treated.

Leo being a bitch is normal but HOW THE FUCK DOES HE KEEP DOING SHIT LIKE THIS!? WHO DOES HE KNOW!?

He met Thoma once or twice and immediately finds some fucking dirt on him , what are his connections or is he simply that spiteful? Does get some form of dirt on everyone he talks to? I wouldn't doubt it but dang

So how do we feel about kaitos Grandma... It's giving kinda abusive. That's all I have to say

NGL when I met the princess I thought her whole motivation was gonna be that she wanted Jin to notice her or sum shit.

He's the only reason she came to Japan

She immediately rushes to greet him

Refuse to dance with any other man

Learn Japanese just for jin

The dullian tried to attack PC (a woman who's close to Jin)

They were planning on moving her to darwick. (Guess who's also at darwick)

I really thought it was gonna be some yandere shit and this was a ploy to get Jin in someway especially since they talked about it in the earlier chapters. One of those if I can't have him nobody can but I'm pleasantly surprised.

Someone give my girl a hug , it's already bad enough that the characters and plot have to remind her she's getting closer to dying with every month and I got say she's handling it better than me

She's trying her best to help and I really do wish they gave her a more active role. Let her find some shit while investigating! Let her solve a case before the ghouls figure out. I'm glad she was able to have a little part but come on y'all can do more than she got a text from Jin and she showed Thoma.

The chapters are getting so small

Okay I think I got all out of my system.

[calaisreno]

Coming Soon: The Secret of Agra

A year after The Reichenbach Fall, John learns that Sherlock isn’t dead, but has now found himself in a spot of trouble. John goes after him. (Much weirder than this description suggests.)

Excerpt:

“You don’t believe me.” She’s looking at him with an almost fierce intensity, as if she can read the thoughts going through his mind. Probably, she can. People have seen through John Watson before now— people who, without asking, know why he limps. The things she’s telling him are not merely improbable; they’re impossible. ... “He was backed into a corner,” she continues, “and took the only way he saw to escape. I’m only saying this now because he’s found himself in another corner. He needs help.” John rubs his left hand on his trousers, a self-soothing motion that doesn’t lessen the anger and sorrow making his heart ache. He takes a deep breath, blows it out. “Fine. Let’s suppose you believe it’s true: Sherlock Holmes survived the fall and has been… what, fleeing from his enemies? For months he’s been somewhere, not dead. If you want me to believe this fairy tale, I’m going to need some proof.” “I saw him in Geneva.” She looks at him steadily, unsmiling. Either she’s a very good actress or she believes that whoever she saw was Sherlock. Maybe both. “And you want me to simply take your word for it?” She sighs, not in exasperation but frustration, and frowns pensively. “He spoke with a friend of mine.” Swiping her phone open, she scrolls a bit, and then turns it so he can see. “Security footage.” He watches the clip twice more, then hands back her phone. Sherlock is alive. John's mind is filled with a buzzing static. For a moment his vision fades. Steady. There will be time to think about it later. Now he needs to ask questions.

Note: Mary is a character in this, but her part is short and there is no romantic relationship.

This is a "down the rabbit hole" story, a London Below, a wonderland, an impossible place where missing people find themselves.

It's also a love story about our two heroes trying to find one another, realising things about themselves and each other.

I've written plenty of AUs before; you might find this one a bit different. There will be no "it's all a dream" ending.

It's a mystery: Clues, easter eggs, breadcrumbs.

@keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @helloliriels

@redmondcollege @raina-at @7-percent @lhrinchelsea

@peanitbear @ghostofnuggetspast @a-victorian-girl

@meetinginsamarra @fullyouthwerewolf @kettykika78

@chriscalledmesweetie @discordantwords @mydogwatson

Thank you for reblogging! 💕

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello! do you think harry would be able to properly communicate with the horcruxes, if he tried? (besides the diary, obviously)

also, since nagini is a living horcrux — like himself — do you think she’d be able to feel the part of voldemort’s soul living inside harry? maybe feel some kind of kinship with him?

i’m wondering because i’ve seen this idea of horcruxes becoming sentient, communicating with harry and recognizing the fellow horcrux in him — maybe even getting attached — many times in fanfictions. i can’t remember how plausible it is, though, given what we’re supposed to know from the books

I think they can. Like, the Horcruxes can sense each other.

I mean, Harry does feel a draw towards the other Horcruxes. I mentioned it in the past but Harry feels drawn to the diary:

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, Ch13)

He feels drawn to the locket enough to insist on wearing it:

“Hmm,” said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. “Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent.” “We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around,” Harry stated firmly. “If we lose it, if it gets stolen — ”

(DH, Ch15)

You could argue he feels drawn to the diadem as well. I mean, he enters the mess of the room of requirement and walks straight to where a Horcrux is located to hid the Prince's book?

Harry hurried forward into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. [...] he stood it on top of the cupboard where the book was now hidden, perched a dusty old wig and a tarnished tiara on the statue’s head to make it more distinctive, then sprinted back through the alleyways of hidden junk as fast as he could go

(HBP, Ch24)

I mean, seems a little sus unless he felt drawn to it like he did the other Horcruxes.

And even with Nagini, he's quicker to trust her as Bathilda than Hermione is becouse he feels that draw without realising it:

Harry could think of many reasons not to obey the summons, and yet his suspicions about her identity were growing stronger every moment that they stood facing each other in the deserted street.

(DH, Ch17)

I think Nagini also sensed that same draw to Harry. After all, she knows to approach Harry and Hermione in Godric's Hallow when they're both under the effects of Polyjuice potion + the invisibility cloak:

He did not need Hermione’s pinch to his arm. There was next to no chance this woman was a Muggle: She was standing there gazing at a house that ought to have been completely invisible to her, if she was not a witch. Even assuming that she was a witch, however, it was odd behavior to come out on a night this cold, simply to look at an old ruin. By all the rules of normal magic, meanwhile, she ought not to be able to see Hermione and him at all. Nevertheless, Harry had the strangest feeling that she knew that they were there, and also who they were. Just as he had reached this uneasy conclusion, she raised a gloved hand and beckoned. Hermione moved closer to him under the Cloak, her arm pressed against his. “How does she know?” He shook his head. The woman beckoned again, more vigorously.

(DH, Ch17)

“Do you really think she knows who you are?” “Yes,” said Harry, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon his own, ”I think she does.”

(DH, Ch17)

But it isn't something super noticeable unless Harry is actively paying attention to it. But, it does mean he could potentially recognize when something is a Horcrux if he learned to recognise it.

Nagini doesn't seem to be able to communicate with the Horcrux in her from what we see, but I think you could argue the Horcrux within Harry is a little more sentient than we are led to belive. I talked about this here an on Horcrux sentience in general here, but there are multiple scenes that could be read as the Horcrux communicating with Harry, for example:

It happened in a fraction of a second: In the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said “three,” Harry looked up at him — they were very close together — and Dumbledore’s clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry’s face. At once, Harry’s scar burned white-hot, as though the old wound had burst open again — and unbidden, unwanted, but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred so powerful he felt, for that instant, that he would like nothing better than to strike — to bite — to sink his fangs into the man before him —

(OotP, 474)

(This might be the Horcrux's reaction to Dumbledore since there's no reason Voldemort would randomly be angry at Dumbledore when Harry looks at him)

And the memory of his parents dying, which isn't one Harry was old enough to remeber, but that he had nightmares about even before the dementors:

Something very painful was going on in Harry’s mind. As Hagrid’s story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before — and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

(PS, 43)

I belive this memory is from the Horcrux, so, yeah...

Some bleed-through and communication happen, but not anything too big, mostly because Harry isn't aware of the Horcrux. If he was aware, I think he might've been able to communicate with the Horcrux within him more. Maybe.

[sixeyescurseuser]

《prequel》

Thinking about A Quiet Place: Day One AU…

Dozens of emergency helicopters circle around the city, dropping pamphlets and broadcasting crucial information for survival. 

Geto can’t hear any of it. But thankfully, his husband translates everything, rapidly signing about how the hostile creatures must listen for their prey because their vision is poor, and that their only weakness is water because they cannot swim. 

Citizens' only form of steady communication is through the radio or the helicopter’s PSAs - both which Geto cannot access.

Geto's eyes widen in panic, feeling completely out of his depths. People’s homes and livelihoods are already being torn apart. The buildings surrounding their apartment are half-collapsed, with lines of abandoned cars on the road, smoke and ash obstructing the air due to the fires. 

With a heavy expression, Gojo gathers his husband into a tight embrace. But they don't have time to process everything because evacuation boats await at the harbor to take them to safety. However, they cannot make a sound unless they wish to become these foreign creatures’ next meal. 

Gojo gently cups his husband's cheeks and touches their foreheads, reminding Suguru that it's them against the world. That they won't ever be apart. 

Geto nods in understanding. He softly kisses Satoru's lips, then pulls them along to pack an emergency bag and leave. 

Simply crossing the city without giving themselves away is a challenge in and of itself. 

Sometimes, Geto unintentionally makes noise with where he walks, or with the clink of his ring against his zipper, and Gojo will be the one to force them into an alleyway, listening to see if there's a monster lurking by. It’s imperative that he acts as both of their ears.

However, even if he isn't hearing, Geto’s body seems to have a sixth sense of where the monsters are as well.

They're tag-teaming to look out for each other. Along the way, the pair witness so many deaths, many of which could've been one of them had they not been a split second faster than they were. 

There's a close call where Geto accidentally triggers a bell on the door to a convenience store. Seconds before the monsters dogpile on him, Gojo manages to sidetrack the monsters by setting off multiple car alarms, then taking Suguru’s hand and running for their lives down the stairs to the subway. 

They find refuge in one of the bathrooms underground. Geto holds his husband the tightest he's ever held him for the next hour. Gojo trembles against him while Suguru's heartbeat rabbits from his chest, underneath Gojo's ear.

They're so traumatized, clothes hanging loose on their frames even more from the lack of food and sleep, and skyrocketed stress levels. 

When they take shelter for the night, they wrap around one another so close, sharing gentle nuzzles and kisses. Because like this, in their own little bubble, they can pretend the world didn't go to complete shit days ago.

There were probably multiple instances where Geto accidentally made too loud of a noise and they had to diverge from their original path to the harbor. 

Geto begins to feel like a liability. Is he slowing Satoru down because he doesn’t know if scratching his nose will be too loud? Is it risky if he signs with too much force? They spend a night cuddling, with Geto asking which actions would make noise and Gojo confirming or denying.

Gojo's hand gently pets Geto's hair as he answers. They are able to communicate in morse code too, by lightly tapping each other, back from when they learned to do so in university.

(Back then, Gojo made sure he learned multiple methods to speak to Suguru without just talking and having Geto ready his lips.)

When Geto asks if Gojo regrets bringing him along, Gojo stomps those thoughts down REAL quick. He knows his Suguru, knows how dark his spiraling goes, especially when it comes to his deafness and the inconvenience - now risk - it can cause.

Gojo will sign, /If I don't have you, I have nothing. Understand, my love? Nothing./ every day if he has to, in order to get his feelings through Suguru's thick skull.

The next day, Gojo and Geto finally make it onto the boat. As it leaves the dock - and their dilapidated city behind -  they collapse into each other's arms, tears streaming down their faces.

They are going to survive together; just like they've always been, and just like they always will.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[atsadi-shenanigans]

FSBE 10 - I Won't Say It

The rogue has a sudden, horrifying realization.

On AO3.

Eleanor’s blood surges into Astarion’s mouth. It’s been days of nothing. A few remaining swills in old bottles, taken from vermin in the Underdark and grown tacky and coagulated. Days of uncertainty, the cold vice twisting in his guts, and the utter ruin and darkness around them. She would learn magic. She wouldn’t need him anymore. Would cast him aside.

But now she’s the first ray of sunshine after a terrible night. Pure, golden light burning away the haze of doubt, of fear, of everything that isn’t her warmth and her life. Even the acrid aftertaste of some worry in her can’t diminish the glory of her hot blood coating his tongue, his throat, his gullet.

She keens above him, grinds hard against his hand and rides her pleasure there. He tastes it. The height of her passion. The sweet, sweet ecstasy of her climax and he moans against her. Is barely aware of tugging his hand out of her trousers so he can clutch her, capture her to him.

The pleasure roils through them both. From her body and her blood into him. Their gasps indistinguishable. By the gods, he’s tasted her after, but during?

His cock aches, fully hard. Only marginally aware of how he ruts up against her. Both of them still clothed, but she’s so glorious, tastes so good. Her orgasm echoes back into him and he has to have more. Needs more. Grinds faster, faster against her, chasing after her even though his form is terrible, it’s hardly the practiced picture of eroticism and he must impress, must always maintain—

Her hand brushes his ear. It’s an accident, he thinks. He hasn’t told her about that. She’s simply got her fingers buried in his hair (finally), modesty abandoned as he laps at her neck. But her thumb brushes right up the side and it’s an erogenous area, certainly, but hardly enough to—

His belly pulls tight. Bollocks throb. Oh gods, he’s going to, can’t stop it, breaks off but it’s too late—

He spills right into his undergarments.

One moment of bliss. Hot pleasure snapping through him and the relief that follows.

And then the reality of the situation crashes down.

Eleanor straddles his lap. Her neck and shoulder smeared in blood. Iron and decadent life in his mouth, sticky over his lips and chin. She pants and shudders in his grasp, and he has both his hands on her plush hips.

The wet patch in his trousers.

Oh dear gods.

He barely restrains himself from shoving her off. Barely. Pulls back and she’s bright red. His own cheeks are…warm. He can’t remember the last time he flushed. Never had enough blood—just pieces of cockroach shell stuck between his molars. But now? Fed? Spilling into his trousers like an overeager, untrained boy?

“I,” he tries. “Ah.”

Untouched. Still clothed. Not even in service to a mark. He just…came.

Can’t afford that. Has never been an issue. A mistake. He’s made a terrible mistake and he cannot afford that. Not here. Not with her.

He doesn’t want to look at her. He usually prefers to do this from behind, so he doesn’t have to see their face, so they don’t kiss him more than he has to. Especially when they’re sweet. When they want to give back.

And now he’s made an utter fool of himself. She’ll know enough to work that out. She’ll be laughing at him. Which means all of camp will be laughing at him. The experienced lover, the seducer, the rake. With come in his trousers.

But he does. Look at her. Thoughts spinning, trying to come up with some excuse.

She…is not laughing. Still blushing. But almost, almost happy?

“You okay?” she says instead of hitting him or spitting mockery. He bites back a fake laugh. Instinctively smooths his face into something he hopes is pleasant. Chagrined, perhaps. “Terribly sorry, pet. I was, ah, overwhelmed, it seems.”

She does not sneer. She does not grab him by the throat and crack his head against the bed frame. She does not (cannot) summon Godey to teach him better manners.

She simply…smiles. Such a soft thing. Nearly bashful. Brushes one of his curls out of his eyes.

But he’s still sitting beneath her with come in his smallclothes. It’s going to become more disgusting the longer he sits there (the thought of her commanding him outside to show everyone what a pathetic mistake he is).

She does move, then, and he can’t help but tense. But she only leans in, and her soft lips brush over his forehead. She stays like that a moment, and he stares at the front of her throat. Then it’s her turn to pull away.

“Was that, um, okay? Me kissing you?”

It’s the type of thing lovers might do. Genuine. Tender.

He’s going to be sick.

“Of course, darling. But you should take a potion.” Because she’s still bleeding. “Because you’re still bleeding.”

Perfect. Something for her to focus on that isn’t him tucking his tail and getting out of there.

“Right.” She slides off and reaches for her pack.

He does not bolt (a near thing). Merely waits for her to find a potion and uncork it. And then gracefully (not at all grimacing) rolls to his feet.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” he says. Gods. Even his ears feel warm. He’s being pitiful.

She nods. Glances once to his groin and then away.

His insides are cold again. Despite all the hot blood he’s lapped up. It’s from her. The way she looks at him. Her…her softness at him.

He heads for the tent flap.

“Astarion?” she says. Quiet. Hesitant. When he turns, “If you want, you could always stay the night? After, uh. Or not! Whichever.”

His face feels made of stone, but he forces a smile anyway. “Of course, darling.”

She relaxes. Looks so small and young and innocent. Hopeful. Because he’s her first. Because she doesn’t know better. Because she thinks this is real.

“Do excuse me, however,” he says. Finally claws his way outside.

The rest of camp sleeps. Or lies awake on their bedrolls facing away. No one is around to witness his shame as he darts for his own tent.

He doesn’t need to drink water, but he does require it to wash up. He has a skin in there for that very purpose. He all but dives into his tent, and then nearly shreds his trousers getting them off.

Stupid. Stupid. Pathetic little boy.

And her. A besotted…cow. To be so soft with him. Like he’s a thing wounded. A thing frightened. Like she could see his shame. How dare she. He’s using her, by the gods. And she’s too stupid to realize it. Their illustrious leader, their tactical alien. Too foolish to know better than to let a vampire into her neck, into her trousers. To think he desires her. To think this could be anything but what it actually is: a meal and a brief fuck.

She’s the pathetic one. Being used. And trying to be, ugh, kind to him. She deserves this. Deserves to be humiliated. Used up and cast aside once he no longer has use for her. That’s her role, even if she’s too naive to know it.

He scrubs himself. Scrubs his clothing.

That she did this to him. He can’t stand it. He imagines the way this will end. They’ll slaughter this Absolute cult and remove the tadpoles. Somehow, they’ll have killed that bastard and he won’t need any of them anymore.

And then she’ll turn to him. Proud of herself. Thinking they’ve won. That he’ll sweep her off her feet and carry her into some sunset (that doesn’t burn him to ash). He will be her one, true love, happily for the ages like some cheap storybook.

But he’ll smile at her, on that day. And tell her everything.

Of course they didn’t have something more. That’s not who he is. This isn’t how the world works. And she’ll understand that all of this, all of it, was a lie. Her purpose will be served, and he’ll have no more obligation to her. He’ll be free.

And she…

Her face. Her dark eyes and the way they light up when she finds him. She keeps herself so carefully blank. Holds herself in so tightly, he’s not sure any of the others have heard her genuine laugh. Have seen that sparkle in her eye. Heard her voice lift as she talks about some catastrophe or horrific plague.

She keeps herself to herself. He’s seen enough of her memories (and has sorted them out enough by now) to understand why. It’s very sensible. She’s done it as long as she can remember because it kept her safe. Until now. Until she, like an utter fool, invited in a vampire.

She let her guard down for him. Let him see past that mask she wears. Because she trusts him.

He imagines the future in which he explains, in detail, his victorious plan, and he imagines the way the light in her eyes would die. The way that terrible stillness would lock over her features. Because she, too, knows that showing pain is a weakness.

And it would be his doing.

His chest is tight. He instinctively inhales. Or tries to. It comes out a strangled wheeze and he curls in over himself. It…hurts.

Why? Why should he hurt? That’s the way the world is. He knows it. He thought her sensible enough to know it.

He manages a weak gasp. The pain only worsens. What the hells is wrong with him. Why should imaging her pain cause him to…

The thought flits along the edge of his mind. A falling star against the cold, uncaring sky. Everything around him seems to still.

No. No, that’s not…it can’t be. Ridiculous. Impossible. Not even he is that stupid.

But the thought doesn’t go away. It branches out, roots finding all the little cracks in his mind. The weeks of wondering, the way his dead heart wants to flutter when her gaze seeks him out and finds him across the camp and she gives that tiny, shy smile. The way her skin smells. The way she finally allowed herself to touch him tonight, and she doesn’t touch anyone but the owlbear cub. The life in her blood and the way it calls to him. Just for him.

No. Absolutely not.

The taste of her mouth. The warmth of her tent and her touch. The way she watches him when he talks, doesn’t even look away in boredom, never rolls her eyes (unless he makes a bad joke). The way she asks him things. And then listens to him.

The gentleness of her lips on his forehead even after he failed her and made a spectacle of himself.

He…wants.

“No,” he hisses.

But it’s too late. The thought has wound itself deep into him. Slithered into all the broken corners of his mind and it will not be dislodged.

“No.” The word comes out a sickly whine. Which turns into a choked laugh. A wretched giggle.

Astarion claws his fingers into his own hair. Folds over his knees. Sinks to the ground. Oh gods.

Oh gods.

[naffeclipse]

HEY HEY NAFF!! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been in your little box to cause havoc. This is going to be a little bit of a jumbled one. Starting off with I absolutely love your new background head image (if that’s even what it’s called lol) Not a question, but just wanted to point it out. (I’m madly in love with the new AU, by the way.)

TO MY ACTUAL ASK! 🙌 so i’ve been scrolling around and looking at some silly little interactions that orca!eclipse has with his different Y/Ns and wanted to turn the focus back onto photographer Y/N. Now I have quite the sensitive gums, and sometimes I will start bleeding from them if I just end up, sucking on a tooth too hard, or my tongue. And sometimes, when I smile, I do tend to startle anyone who is looking.

I’m curious to see how you’d imagine how eclipse would react if Y/N smiled at him as he did a silly trick to impress his birdie. But caught sight of red staining their teeth, the red iron dripping a tad. (in this scenario photographer YN is probably in a bit of a warmer climate where they can have their mask off.)

Hey!! Aw, thank you, I love my new header too! @deliasmoothie did a lovely job <333

Eclipse would simply assume the photographer has just finished a well-earned meal. Blood in teeth is no big deal, he gets that after a hearty seal—until he mentions that the photographer must have had a good hunt and the conversation reveals that, uh, yeah, sometimes they just bleed in their mouth a little. It's fine!

Eclipse, upon learning this:

Cue his fretting and concern while the photographer explains that it's really fine, they're not wounded or in pain. It just happens. Eclipse would still insist on looking inside the photographer's mouth to see for himself.

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

Thanks for taking this on when I dmed you separately. The open comm you had and how you checked in w me regarding the ideas you were considering was appreciated! I'm super looking forward to reading this based on what we discussed! If you want to post with the request I'll put it here for context: Jing Yuan from HSR if he saw fem readers scars (some self-inflicted, others work-related) for the first time despite knowing her for a while + some implied spice and funnies 👀

The Scars You Carry - F!Reader x Jing Yuan

Featured Column - Honkai Star Rail

Reader never talked about her past, and despite their emotional involvement, Jing Yuan had never asked. But when an unguarded moment reveals the scars she’s carried for years, he can’t help but reach out. What begins as a quiet touch spirals into something deeper.

TW: Mentions of injuries/self-harm scars, touching without explicit verbal consent/implied consent, mild nudity/implied intimacy, possible undertones of existing PTSD

The scent of incense clung to the air, mingling with the faintest traces of mist from outside. It was a humid but otherwise cool and quiet evening in the Cloud Knights' chambers. It was the type of night that wrapped the Luofu in a false illusion of peace.

[Name] rolled her shoulder, testing the joint as she peeled off the top layer of her uniform. The fabric had stiffened from dried sweat, the aftermath of yet another long, grueling day at work. Being a medical examiner was her secondary role within the Cloud Knight beyond defending again abundance abominations, though this secondary role demanded more than simply identifying causes of death. Least to say, she had a habit of ending her nights here, half-draped over a chair in her private quarters, too exhausted to do more than breathe.

A breeze stirred as the balcony doors behind her clicked open. She barely reacted to the sound of footsteps behind her. “You’re late,” she murmured.

"Am I?" Jing Yuan’s voice was the same as ever—deep, smooth, tinged with amusement. “I thought I was arriving precisely when I meant to.”

She scoffed, but it lacked heat. He always did this. Jing Yuan rarely made his entrances known, but she had long since learned to expect him. The general carried a sort of unshakable patience, the kind that let him sit at a board for hours, moving his pieces at his own pace, certain the game would end in his favor. [Name] knew because she played the same way.

Tonight, though, she was too tired to match his wit.

“You shouldn’t keep a woman waiting,” she muttered, pulling out the pins that kept her sleeves in place. The last one slipped free, and the linen fell away, baring the jagged remains of old wounds across her back. Wounds, that she let few see, including Jing Yuan until this moment.

Jing Yuan, who had already been strolling toward the lacquered table near the balcony, stilled.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, ever so quietly, he asked, “Why did you never mention these?”

[Name] paused, her fingers still curled around a cuff. The question was not unexpected, but the way he asked it—gentle, but weighted—caught her off guard.

She glanced over her shoulder. “You never asked.”

That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? She was used to questions, to prodding, to those who thought they had the right to dissect her past. She had spent years perfecting the art of redirection, of smirks and well-placed jabs to keep people from looking too closely. But Jing Yuan had never asked.

He had never needed to until now.

His gaze flickered over the old scars, tracing the uneven ridges with something unreadable in his golden eyes.

[Name] turned back around, feigning nonchalance. “They’re old,” she said. “Not worth your concern.”

Jing Yuan sighed. She heard the rustle of fabric, then, before she could predict his next move, his fingers brushed against her shoulder blade.

The touch was featherlight. A mere press of fingertips.

It should not have startled her as much as it did.

She didn’t flinch. She had long since trained herself out of such things. But Jing Yuan had a way of tilting the battlefield when she least expected it. He never moved aggressively, never pushed when it wasn’t warranted.

She could feel the warmth of his hand, just barely there, lingering over the deepest scar, the one that stretched from the base of her neck to the middle of her spine. It was old, healed over many years, but the history in it remained.

“Did this one hurt?” he asked, voice unreadable.

[Name] exhaled through her nose. “The most, for sure.”

His fingers moved again, tracing another mark along her side.

“This one?”

“No.”

His touch ghosted over a smaller scar near her ribs.

“This one?”

She swallowed. “…Not at the time.”

Jing Yuan hummed, as if he had already known the answer before she spoke it aloud.

His hand lingered. Not pressing, not demanding—just existing in that space between her past and present.

After a moment, he spoke again. “You never told me you carried such ghosts.”

[Name] let out a quiet breath. “You never told me you cared.”

That made him laugh, soft and knowing.

“Oh, [Name],” he murmured, his fingers finally leaving her skin, though the warmth remained. “I would have thought that was obvious by now.”

She turned to face him fully, searching his expression for any hint of insincerity. But there was none.

Jing Yuan was many things: calculating, reserved, infuriatingly patient, but he was never insincere.

[Name] tilted her head. “And if I told you I don’t need your pity?”

His smile was lazy, but his eyes were sharp. “Who said anything about pity?”

There was a shift between them, subtle but undeniable. A moment stretched between heartbeats, something fragile yet unyielding settling into the space they shared.

[Name] could have said something then. Could have teased him, could have thrown up her walls, could have done anything to disrupt the way he was looking at her.

But for once, she let the silence be.

Jing Yuan, ever patient, waited.

And when she finally, carefully, let her fingers brush against his own, letting herself take, just this once, and he did not pull away.

The moment hung between them, [Name] wasn’t sure who had moved first, if she had leaned in, or if Jing Yuan had closed the space between them, but the warmth of his fingers curled lightly over her wrist sent something deep in her chest thrumming.

She had spent years evading questions, slipping through fingers that tried to hold her still long enough to dig beneath the surface. But Jing Yuan did not dig. He did not prod or demand. He simply…

Waited.

And it was that patience that undid her.

[Name] swallowed hard, tilting her chin up just slightly. “If you’re expecting some dramatic confession, you’re wasting your time.”

Jing Yuan smiled—that slow, knowing smile that always made her want to either punch him or kiss him, depending on the day. “No confessions, then.” His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist, tracing the faint scars there. An old wound, self-inflicted in her youth, when the world had seemed too big and she had felt too small to hold her place in it.

His thumb skimmed over her pulse. Steady. Measured. Jing Yuan, for all his posturing as the lazy, dozing general, was a man who knew the weight of touch. He was not careless with his hands.

[Name] exhaled, shaking her head. “You’re not going to start spouting poetic nonsense, are you?”

Jing Yuan chuckled, low and amused. “Would you prefer something crude? I can oblige, if you’d like.”

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t pull away.

“Surprised?” he murmured.

She tilted her head, considering. “Not really. I always figured you had a bleeding heart somewhere on that sleeve of yours.”

Jing Yuan sighed, though it was more indulgent than exasperated. “If I have a bleeding heart, then what do you call yourself, [Name]?”

“Efficient,” she said without hesitation.

His laughter was warm, and she hated that it made something in her chest tighten. “Ah. Efficiency. Of course. And it’s efficient to keep things bottled up?”

“I never said that,” she shot back. “But there’s no point dragging people into things they don’t need to carry.”

Jing Yuan hummed, clearly unconvinced. His fingers finally left her wrist, only to trace a slow path up her forearm. “And yet,” he mused, “you let me see.”

[Name] stilled. He wasn’t wrong. She had let him see. She hadn’t covered up, hadn’t hidden, hadn’t laughed it off as she might have with anyone else.

She should have been annoyed that he noticed.

Instead, she found herself exhaling, shoulders dropping in something dangerously close to relief.

“You have an irritating habit of getting under my skin,” she muttered.

Jing Yuan smiled, not the usual lazy thing, but something softer. He reached up, brushing an errant strand of her hair away from her face. “Likewise,” he admitted.

She wasn’t sure what made her do it, maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was something deeper, but [Name] leaned into his touch, just barely. It was reckless. A gamble.

Jing Yuan, ever the tactician, did not waste the opportunity.

His fingers traced the line of her jaw before resting just beneath her chin, tilting her face up toward his. Not forcing, not demanding—just waiting, always waiting, to see if she would move first.

[Name] was tired of waiting.

So she closed the space between them.

It was not the kind of kiss that belonged in sentimental stories. There was nothing tentative about it, nothing shy. She kissed him like she was proving a point, like she was testing him, like she was daring him to make the next move.

Jing Yuan, to his credit, did not disappoint.

His hand slipped to the small of her back, pressing just enough to remind her that he was here, that he was present. His lips curved against hers, a smirk just barely there before he deepened the kiss, slow and devastatingly thorough.

He kissed like he fought—measured, strategic, never rushing but never hesitating either.

[Name] felt the warmth of his hand against one of her deeper scars, the one that ran along her ribs, and despite herself, she shivered.

Jing Yuan pulled back just enough to murmur, “Still think I’m wasting my time?”

[Name] exhaled a laugh, breathless. “Oh, shut up.”

She kissed him again.

And this time, neither of them pulled away.

The taste of incense lingered between them—static in the air, the scent of mist clinging to their breath. [Name] didn’t think about what it meant to be here, pressed against Jing Yuan with the warm weight of his hands anchoring her in place. She didn’t think about the scars under his fingers, nor about the years of silence she had wrapped around them like armor.

She just let herself take.

Jing Yuan, ever the patient tactician, met her halfway. He always had a way of turning things on their head, of guiding the tempo without forcing it. The way he kissed her now—slow, unhurried, teasing—made it clear he intended to enjoy every second of this.

She almost wanted to fight him for control. Almost.

Then he traced a slow line along her spine, fingertips grazing old wounds with such absent-minded reverence that [Name] felt something shift in her chest. The tension she carried, the tight coil of self-preservation—he was unwinding it, piece by piece, and she hated how easy he made it seem.

She broke the kiss first, if only to breathe. Her forehead rested against his, their breath mingling in the dim light of the chamber. The balcony doors remained open, letting the night air cool the warmth threatening to spiral out of control.

Jing Yuan exhaled a quiet chuckle. “You’re full of surprises.”

[Name] huffed. “That’s what people say when they realize they’ve underestimated me.”

“Oh, I never underestimated you.” His fingers, still trailing over her skin, pressed just slightly—a silent acknowledgment, nothing more. “I always knew you were dangerous.”

She scoffed, but before she could fire back some quip, his lips brushed the corner of her jaw, the motion lazy and deliberate. “You really enjoy hearing yourself talk, huh?”

Jing Yuan hummed in mock consideration. “I do. But tonight, I think I’d rather listen.”

His fingers curled around her waist, his lips trailing back to hers, and [Name]—reckless, tired, and utterly done pretending—let herself forget about the rest of the world for a while.

[Name] laid stretched across the silk-draped lounge chair near the balcony, the cool night air tracing across her skin. The warm glow of lanterns cast soft shadows across the chamber, their flickering light just enough to catch the faint glimmer of silver strands in the disheveled cascade of Jing Yuan’s hair.

He sat next to her, one arm draped lazily over the back of a chair, golden eyes half-lidded with something unreadable.

Comfort, perhaps. Satisfaction, most definitely.

She huffed a soft laugh, tilting her head to look at him. “You’re staring.”

Jing Yuan smirked, resting his chin against his palm. “Can you blame me?”

[Name] exhaled through her nose, amused. She stretched, languid and unhurried, rolling her shoulder where his hand had once rested. There was a quiet soreness there, a reminder of their earlier activities.

This was… new.

Not unpleasant. But new.

She wasn’t sure what to do with that realization, so instead, she deflected. “You’re a menace, you know.”

Jing Yuan leaned back, utterly unbothered. “I believe you said that earlier.”

“Yeah, and it bears repeating.”

He chuckled. “If I recall, you weren’t exactly protesting.”

[Name] turned her head, meeting his gaze with something sharper, something knowing. “Neither were you.”

Jing Yuan hummed, the corner of his mouth twitching as if debating whether to press his advantage or let her have the final word. Eventually, he relented. “I suppose I wasn’t.”

The quiet stretched between them, comfortable in a way [Name] rarely allowed herself to experience. It was a dangerous thing, this kind of ease.

But for tonight, she let herself have it.

Just this once.

[Name] was awake before him, which wasn’t surprising. Jing Yuan had perfected the art of sleeping in as though it were a divine mandate. She laid still for a moment, eyes half-lidded as she listened to his even breathing. His hold on her had shifted sometime during the night, after they made it back into the bed, one hand now resting against her hip, his other arm tucked beneath the pillow.

She would have let him sleep a little longer—really, she would have.

But fate, or rather, a very loud teenager, had other plans.

The doors burst open with no ceremony whatsoever.

“GENERAL! YOU—”

Yanqing’s voice cut off abruptly.

[Name], still tangled in the sheets with Jing Yuan’s arm loosely around her waist, turned her head just enough to stare at the young lieutenant standing in the doorway. His expression flickered rapidly between confusion, horror, and dawning realization.

Jing Yuan, in a true show of shamelessness, did not stir.

Yanqing’s grip on his sword tightened as if he were considering using it to gouge his own eyes out. “Are you kidding me?!”

[Name] sighed, rubbing her temple. “Do you knock?”

Yanqing made a strangled noise. “I wasn’t expecting to need to!”

Jing Yuan finally stirred, stretching like a lazy cat before cracking one eye open. His voice was thick with sleep, utterly unbothered. “Ah… morning already?”

Yanqing looked like he wanted to throw either him or himself out the window.

“You—! You promised morning training! I got up at dawn! I waited! And then I hear the other Cloud Knights gossiping about where you were, and I—” His face scrunched up as if the very memory pained him. “—I should’ve never come here.”

Jing Yuan yawned, stretching his arms over his head before resting one lazily back over [Name]’s waist. “Mm, my apologies. I must’ve lost track of time.”

[Name], feeling very little sympathy for him, pinched his arm. “You knew you had training with him.”

“Did I?” Jing Yuan murmured. He sounded entirely too pleased with himself.

Yanqing, in the doorway, was losing his mind. “YES! YOU DID!”

[Name] sighed, pushing herself up, making sure she was covered. Jing Yuan sighed letting his arm slide away from her but made no move to leave the bed.

Yanqing groaned into his hands. “This is so unprofessional.”

[Name], despite herself, smirked. “Well, General, shouldn’t you set a better example?”

Jing Yuan chuckled, sitting up at an unhurried pace. “Ah, but an important lesson can be learned here, Yanqing.”

The lieutenant glared. “What lesson?”

Jing Yuan stretched, far too pleased with himself. “That patience is a virtue.”

Yanqing looked seconds away from quitting. Moments later, he stormed off, muttering under his breath about irresponsible generals and unnecessary mental scarring.

[Name] turned back to Jing Yuan, who was watching her with that infuriating, lazy amusement.

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

He smirked, reaching for her wrist to pull her back toward him. “Always.”

She sighed but didn’t resist.

They could afford a few more minutes.

Editor's Note: Hey "anon", not a problem, I'm glad we were able to collab on ideas for this, I messaged separately already but I hope you enjoyed~ Also thanks for encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone with this.