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simp4wom3n · 10 months ago

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Hidden in Plain Sight

Requested: Yes/No - request

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Despite dating Jenna for the past two years, and even getting married, no one knew until your most recent appearance on Jimmy Fallon ~ Word Count: 1.5k ~ Warnings: None just pure fluff

A/N: Hello there!! I haven't written a Jenna fic in so long as it was so fun to write I stg. Please feel free to give feedback, but I love you all, and I hope you enjoy <3

The cheers from the audience echoed through the backstage corridors as you made your way towards the cheers from your dressing room. With your recent clean sweep of the Grammys, winning every award you were nominated for, numerous talk shows and interviewers begged you for your time. Whilst the prospect of going on almost every talk show excited you beyond belief, you couldn't help but be more excited for this one.

Jimmy Fallon.

You had been on his show once before, just before the Grammys when all of your nominations were flying in, and to say you enjoyed it would be an understatement. That being said, as you made your way to the curtains, waiting for your name to be announced, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone in your jacket pocket. Quickly grabbing it, a smile instantly grew on your lips as you saw who had texted you.

Jenna: "Good luck my love!"

Jenna: "You're going to absolutely kill it."

Jenna: "Also I can't wait to see your outfit again, you look soooooo good."

Your smile grew larger as you read her messages. Unbeknownst to the public, you and Jenna had been dating for over 2 years and even married for over a month. Ever since you had gotten engaged, the rules you two had set for your relationship in public had loosened.

You started going in public more, holding hands when walking down the street, and even occasionally sharing gentle kisses. Despite doing all of this, whilst the speculation around your relationship grew exponentially, neither of you had ever confirmed anything. The most the public had to go off were pictures of you holding hands and attending dinners.

If anything, you were shocked they hadn't figured it out yet.

Before you can reply to Jenna, you hear Jimmy start to introduce you. Swiftly turning your phone off and throwing it back in your pocket, you fix your posture and take a deep breath before you hear your cue.

"Please welcome the talented and always entertaining, Y/n L/n!"

With his words, the curtains before you open, and you take confident steps onto the brightly lit stage. The crowd roars with applause as you look at them with a warm smile, waving at them before your eyes meet a familiar face.

Looking at you with a matching smile and her bottom lip gently caught between her teeth is Jenna. Winking at her, you redirect your attention to Jimmy, who helps you get to your seat.

Taking a seat in the chair, the cheers from the crowd continue as you duck your face slightly, overwhelmed by the welcome, whilst Jimmy's contagious laugh can be heard in the background.

With the noise finally settling down, you send a grateful look to the audience before finally facing Jimmy. "Y/n! Welcome back. I feel like we saw each other just the other day." You chuckle slightly as you nod along, "Yeah, well, it has only been a few weeks.".

"But so much has happened since I last saw you. I mean, you now have five Grammys!" The crowd once again erupted with cheers as your cheeks ached with the amount you were smiling. "I do, yeah. It still doesn't feel real at all, like... I don't know. I'm still speechless about the whole thing, to be honest."

Jimmy laughs at your words with his familiar smile. "I mean, you took down the likes of Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo. That's insane!" "I know! Trust me, I know. They're my idols," you respond with a giggle. The warmth that Jimmy always brought to his interviews made this so much easier for you, especially with Jenna watching you from the audience.

That being said, Jimmy's face changed to something more curious as he reached behind him to grab a board that you figured would have a photo on it. "Speaking of idols, It seems you have been getting close to someone I'm sure most of us see as an idol."

Oh, you knew where this was going.

Turning the board around, Jimmy reveals several paparazzi photos of you and Jenna outside a restaurant. The two of you can be seen holding hands and hugging on a memorable cold New York night, your anniversary, actually. A myriad of "oo's" fall from the crowd as you briefly cast a glance at Jenna, her cheeks possessing a new rosy hue. With a slight giggle, you looked back at Jimmy, who looked at you with a smirk.

"So... Tell me if I'm wrong, but it looks like someone is dating Jenna Ortega." Licking your lips in thought, the idea of revealing that she was actually your wife grew more potent by the second. With a final glance at Jenna, you smile at Jimmy with a mischievous grin. "She's my wife, actually."

Jimmy laughs, thinking it was a joke, before seeing the look on your face, to which his eyes go wide. "Wait, actually?!" It was your turn to laugh as the crowd grew louder at your revelation. "Yeah, we got married about a month ago," you spoke through your fit of laughter.

Jimmy stood up, screaming, "Oh my god!" as the crowd joined. Looking back towards your wife, who remained hidden in the audience, your eyes met as she looked at you adoringly, her cheeks redder than ever.

"You're not joking, right?" Jimmy asks as he finally moves to sit down again, out of breath from his excited rampage. "No. No, I'm not joking," you laugh at Jimmy's face, "My wife is actually in the crowd right now." pointing your hand towards the love of your life, the smile that adorns your face could easily be compared to the one you wore on your wedding day.

You finally got to show off your gorgeous wife and couldn't be happier.

Everyone gasps as they spot Jenna, and a light quickly moves in her direction. Embracing it like she does everything, she stands up and waves at everyone before blowing you a kiss. "What the... come down here, oh my god." You hear Jimmy yell excitedly as he gestures for her to walk down onto the stage.

As she starts to make her way down the steps, you get up from your chair and approach her. Offering her your arm as you meet her, she kisses your cheek softly as you lead her onto the stage, where Jimmy awaits in shock. The sound of the crowd was deafening as the two of you sat down on the chairs, your hands intertwined as Jimmy sat down behind his desk.

Laughing at the flabbergasted look on his face, his attempts to refocus don't seem to be doing much. "In shock?" you ask him with a smile, to which he quickly nods. Regaining some of his composure, he picks up the photos and points them back towards the crowd. "So then, in this photo, how long had you guys been dating?"

"Funny story actually," you start with a smile, "That was actually us going out for the first time after we got married.". The crowd 'aw'd as Jimmy smiled warmly at the two of you. "The best part is that you can actually see our rings in the photo," Jenna chimes in, which makes Jimmy quickly turn the photo around and look as closely as he can.

You laughed as his jaw dropped, "You're telling me no one noticed?". Turning the board back around so the cameras could zoom in on it, you shrugged your shoulders with a smirk, "We were just as surprised, trust me."

"Can we see the rings?". Looking at Jenna, she pulled your wedding ring from her pocket and handed it to you. As you slipped it back onto your finger, she held her hand out where her wedding and engagement ring could be seen. The crowd cheered as you matched her and held your hand out.

"I know it's early, but this has to be the best moment of 2024." Jimmy gasps as he looks at your hands. Both you and Jenna simultaneously laugh and blush at his comment, your eyes looking towards your wife in adoration.

"Well, thank you so much, Y/n and Jenna, for coming today. This has been absolutely amazing." Jimmy rounds up the interview, presumably running out of time with the unexpected addition of your wife. "Thank you so much for having us." With that, you and Jenna stand up and start making your way back to the curtains, waving to the audience as their cheers once again deafened you.

When the two of you finally made it backstage again, you had no time to think before Jenna jumped on you and tightly wrapped her arms around your neck. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around her waist and buried your face in her neck. "I can't believe we just did that," she mumbled happily into your shoulder.

Pulling back from the embrace slightly, you look into her eyes before kissing her lips tenderly. "I don't know how I managed to marry you, but I did, and there is no way I'm not showing you off," you spoke softly as you pulled away from her kiss.

Her cheeks ignited fiery red as she smiled warmly at you before pulling you in for another kiss, this time for passion. You had completely forgotten that you were still backstage as she took over your senses. Hesitantly pulling back out of breath, she mumbles against your lips.

"Let's go home."

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega @thenextdawn @wol-fica

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna x reader #jenna x y/n #simp4wom3n

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rosanna-writer · 1 month ago

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The Great War

Summary: An alternate take on Feyre's first meeting with the Inner Circle, in which she learns that immortals can truly fight about something pointless forever. Warnings: None Word Count: ~1.5k

Happy @officialfeysandweek! My entry for the "eternal" prompt goes out to all my Fahrenheit warriors out there <3

Some text is lifted directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

You can read it under the cut or Here on AO3.

Rhys sauntered over to the two males standing by the dining room doors. I hesitated. The slightly larger male was leering at me, and I had half a mind to force Rhys to make good on his promise to bring me home as soon as I asked.

I didn't like being looked at like fresh meat.

The male chuckled and said, "Just one question for Feyre. How do you measure the feeling of the air on your skin?"

"Cassian…." Rhys said. An obvious warning.

I blinked, unsure if this was some sort of trick or test or just more faerie bullshit. "Fahrenheit?" I said, hating how uncertain I sounded. But it was what we'd always used in the mortal lands.

Rhys stilled. The two winged males shared a significant look. Perhaps that had been the wrong answer.

The second one studied me, then said, "Interesting. Rhys is the only member of our group who doesn't prefer Celsius. I'm surprised he's finally found another after all these years."

Rhys slid his hands into his pockets. "I don't see why you're so surprised to hear that Feyre darling has the correct opinion about how to best measure temperature."

He sounded pleased, and honestly…he was right, even if I wasn't sure why it mattered. If this were a test, it seemed like I'd passed. Though I couldn't imagine what measures of temperature could possibly have to do with working for Rhysand and stopping Hybern from bringing down the Wall.

I also couldn't help but feel a bit defensive."It's more intuitive. Why would anyone use Celsius if they don't have to?"

Cassian's grin widened until it was nothing short of wolfish. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rhys cut him off and said, "Cassian is the general of my armies, and Azriel is my spymaster. More importantly, we're brothers, at least in the sense that all bastards are brothers of a sort."

Under the Mountain, I'd never considered the possibility that Rhysand might have siblings. Or any family at all actually. He'd made certain no one thought he cared about anything but himself.

Perhaps…perhaps it had been foolish of me not to see the lie for what it was.

Azriel held out a hand for me to shake. I took it, trying not to stare at the brutal scars that covered his skin. Burns, if I had to guess. A large cobalt stone graced the back of each of his gauntlets as well.

"Welcome," he said, voice flat. Not warm, but…not unkind, either.

Cassian's eyes tracked my movement as I shook Azriel's hand then released it. His lips twitched to the side. Now that I knew he was a general, for a moment, I honestly thought he was about to point out something about how the shifting of my feet made me vulnerable to an opponent.

Instead, he said, "I don't see what's so intuitive about a scale where water freezes at thirty-two degrees and boils at two hundred and twelve."

Azriel sighed, tipping his head back and looking skyward as if he were praying for strength. "Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand…good luck."

A friend. Not a human-faerie thing or savior of their land. They couldn't know; perhaps Rhys hadn't said—

But Cassian nudged his bastard-brother-whatever out of the way, Azriel’s mighty wings flaring slightly as he balanced himself. Apparently, the discussion of temperature measurement wasn't over quite yet. "A scale that ranges from zero to one hundred is much easier to follow."

"If you're stupid enough to need a dumbed-down scale to measure temperature, then you're beyond help," I snapped, already sick of faerie bullshit.

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Unsure what to make of it, I looked to Rhys. His gaze met mine, and his violet eyes glimmered with something that might have been pride.

I almost demanded an explanation right then and there, but Mor breezed onto the balcony with, "If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth."

"Actually," Rhys said, "Cassian is howling because Feyre made some incredibly valid points regarding the weaknesses of Celsius as a measurement scale."

"By the Cauldron, are we still going on about this after five centuries? Fahrenheit is useless, Rhys, just give it up," Mor said.

"It's not useless. It's more precise," I said. "The difference between one degree is smaller on the Fahrenheit scale, so you can be more specific and still use whole numbers."

"Exactly," Rhys said. "It's such a relief to finally have someone around who sees reason. Fahrenheit is the superior unit by far."

I'd stepped closer to him without even realizing. How strange, after everything, to be standing at Rhysand's side as if it were exactly where I belonged. United—and over temperature measurement of all things.

Cassian's knees bent, as if he were dropping into a fighting stance. Gods, did they really care enough about temperature measurements for the argument to come to blows?

I wondered what exactly I'd agreed to when I said I'd come to dinner tonight.

But if Mor had noticed Cassian's movement, she was utterly unbothered by it, tossing her long, golden hair over a shoulder. "Both you and Feyre are insane, then. If you really think such an arbitrary—"

"Enough," Azriel said, his voice laced with dangerous quiet. "We have company."

Cassian straightened, and he and Mor allowed themselves to be herded back through the open balcony doors and into the dining room. Both of them pressed their lips together, as if there were more they wanted to say but held back.

Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing. "Relax, Az. We promised Rhys no fighting tonight, even over temperature."

I fell into step with Rhysand as we headed inside. Our eyes met, and his lips twitched into a small, conspiratorial smile meant just for me. Against my better judgment, my stomach flipped, even as I smiled back.

I was in for a whole world of trouble.

There was one last member of Rhysand's Inner Circle waiting for us inside. Even though the short, delicate woman looked like High Fae…as Rhys had warned me, every instinct was roaring to run. To hide.

This, I supposed, was Amren.

"So there are two of you now," she said, and the full weight of her strange silver gaze landed on me.

"Two of us?" I said.

"Two people foolish enough to cling to Fahrenheit, an outdated system based on the temperature of a cow's anus. The girl must be the only other person alive who prefers it; no wonder she's your—"

"Enough," Rhys said, his voice harsher than I'd ever heard it. A command. As one, Cassian, Mor, and Azriel whipped their heads around to stare at him in shock.

Amren's answering smile made me shiver. "Very well, High Lord. I'll let you finish that sentence in your own time."

It was going to be a long dinner.

*I don’t know how long we lay there, lazily touching each other, as if we might indeed have all the time in the world.

***

"I think I fell in love with you," Rhys murmured, stroking a finger down my arm, “the moment I realized you were cleaving those bones to make a trap for the Middengard Wyrm. Or maybe the moment you flipped me off for mocking you. It reminded me so much of Cassian. For the first time in decades, I wanted to laugh."

"You fell in love with me," I said flatly, "then and not when I agreed with you that Fahrenheit is the better way to measure temperature?"

He huffed a laugh. "No, I was already hopelessly in love with you by that dinner. But I think that's when my brothers began to suspect we were mates. Mor and Amren knew, but I don't think they truly understood the depth of our connection until that moment."

"It's just temperature measurement. I don't see why it matters so much," I said, brows furrowing.

"Because for centuries, I was the only one on that side of the argument. And then you arrived and instantly joined the fight, and I felt less alone. Like I didn't have to carry all my burdens myself anymore."

You needed to not be alone…

There had been more truth to what he'd said about the bargain—the bond really—than I'd thought. That I'd needed to not be alone when I'd agreed to it.

My throat went tight as I brushed a lock of raven hair off his forehead. "Neither one of us will ever be alone again, mate," I whispered.

He kissed me with heartbreaking softness—Rhysand had been so rarely afforded opportunities to be gentle. I parted my lips and groaned at the way his tongue slowly caressed mine.

I slid a hand down his shoulder, only to be met with a glob of wet, sticky paint. Gods, we'd made an utter mess of the bed and ourselves, and some of the paint had half-dried, crusting in my hair and on his wings.

Rhys pulled back, meeting my eyes as his expression melted into something positively wicked. "I supposed that means you'll have to bathe with me, then."

I flushed, suddenly warm all over, and before I could scramble off the bed myself, Rhys had scooped me up into his arms. He carried me to the bath, where the cabin's magic had already had the water running.

Together, we slid into the tub, where the spell had heated the water to a perfect one hundred degrees Fahrenheit.

#feysandweek2024 #feysand #i PROMISE my other stuff for this week is less cracky lmao

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dqmeron · 2 years ago

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some quick info: ↳ this is specifically for the screencapping method. i use mplayer osx extended to get my caps, but there are a few other programs you can use as well. i’ll specifically be going over mplayer here. ↳ i’m using ps 24.4.1 on a 2020 m1 macbook air

[tysm to @kyubinz for looking this over and adding some things ily]

☆ feel free to send me an ask/message with any questions you have! ☆

「 setup 」

1. finding videos

one big thing to remember is that the overall file size of your video will impact the quality of your gif. the larger, the better. i almost never use anything below 1080p, and try to use 2160p whenever i can. 4k video downloader is the program i use for downloading videos from youtube, it’s free to install and works great! because of how large some files can be, i always store any media on my hard drive. i highly recommend using one if you plan to keep lots of files on hand.

.mkv files are best, but .mp4 works fine as well (.mkv files are usually bigger aka better quality).

2. getting your screencaps

after downloading mplayer, go to the top bar and click file > open. open the video you’ll be screencapping.

you can either drag the little time indicator or using the arrow keys on your keyboard to move to the spot you want to capture. the > key can also be used to move forward frame by frame. to start capping, pause the video and press shift + cmnd (ctrl if you’re on windows) + s to take a screencap. i usually just hold it down until i’ve gotten all the screencaps i need.

by default, screencaps go right to desktop. you can set up a folder for them to go to automatically by going to settings > general and then selecting a spot in the menu under “interface”, but i just let them go to desktop and then sort them into individual folders so they’re easier for me to find while i’m giffing. in general, i try to stay under 80 frames so my gifs fit into tumblr’s 10mb image size limit.

3. importing screencaps into photoshop

to import your caps into ps, go to file > scripts > load files into stack. this window should open:

click browse, and navigate to the folder with your caps in it. select all of the caps you want to import, and then click open.

click ok to create a file with your caps, and then wait until it’s finished loading your caps into the layers tab. once they’re loaded in, this is what your screen should look like:

(if you aren’t seeing the timeline at the bottom of your screen, go up to the top bar and go to window > timeline)

click create frame animation, then go to the hamburger menu at the top right of the timeline and select make frames from layers. once your frames have loaded in, select the same menu again and click reverse frames. play through your gif to make sure everything looks good.

if you were to save your gif at the speed it’s set at now, it would be way too fast. to fix this, you have to set the frame delay. do this by selecting all your frames in the timeline using shift click, and then clicking (on any frame) where it says “0 sec”. select other from the menu that comes up, and you should get this popup:

the general rule of thumb for gif frame delay is 0.05 seconds. there are some cases — certain animated movies or video games, for example — where other delays are best, but for the most part, 0.05 is what you want to use (0.05 can slightly slow gifs, and sometimes using 0.04 better matches the clip's original timing. this is really a "train your eyes" thing, and picking the best delay gets easier as you gif for longer). you can set this by typing the number into the text box and then hitting the ok button or enter on your keyboard.

at this point, i’d go ahead and save your file. you can go to file > save in the top bar, or just hit cmd/ctrl + s on your keyboard.

「 making your gif 」

1. sizing

after your frames are ready, the next thing is to size your gif. to crop your gif, press c on your keyboard to open the cropping tool. white borders will show up around your gif.

before doing anything, i would suggest making sure “delete cropped pixels” is unchecked. this will allow you to drag your gif around later if you want to reposition. you can find this option at the top of your screen. drag the borders on either side until you have the area you want selected. mine looks like this:

once you’re happy with your selection, hit enter on your keyboard to finalize it.

the tumblr image guidelines require gifs to be 540px across (here’s a post detailing this). to change your gif’s image size, go to image > image size in the top bar. you’ll get this popup:

instead of setting the width right to 540, i’ll be setting it to 544, and then trimming down the edges using canvas size. this makes the quality just a little better, and also prevents any weird borders being made around your gif on the off chance photoshop decides to add them. this isn’t necessary at all, you can absolutely size right to 540, but i just like doing this. if you choose to do this, open canvas size right after you set image size (image > canvas size in the top bar), and trim your width down to 540 and your height down a few pixels as well.

2. sharpening & other filters

sharpening is essential for good-quality gifs. the first step to this is converting our timeline from frame animation to a video timeline. select this little icon in the bottom left of your screen:

this is what your timeline will look like now:

you can use the little slider with mountains on either side to change the width of your frames in the timeline for easier access when editing. now that we’ve got all this set up, we can sharpen! i use this action pack to sharpen my gifs in addition to a few of my own settings (here is a video on how to install actions into photoshop). go to window > action in the top bar if you aren’t seeing the action tab.

i’ll be using the sharper action from the pack. to use an action, select it from the list and press the little play button at the bottom of the panel to apply it.

in addition to this, i usually also add unsharp mask at 50% amount with a 0.5px radius:

there are a few other filters than can be helpful when giffing:

a. add/reduce noise noise (aka grain) can be added with “add noise”. go to filter > noise > add noise.

these are the settings i usually use, but the amount depends on the gif (i don't ever go over 3.5 for the most part):

(if you want a grain effect but moving noise doesn't work for the gif, you can also add a grain overlay and then mess with blending mode and layer opacity until it looks how you want)

reduce noise can be used to remove some of the pre-existing grain on a clip. go to filter > noise > reduce noise. here are my settings:

leaving reduce noise on its own at 100% is a bit too much, so double click this icon and change the opacity (i usually do around 45):

b. gaussian blur if your clip is a bit pixelated, gaussian blur can help with smoothing it out a bit. go to filter > blur > gaussian blur. my settings are 1 pixel radius w ~20% opacity (this changes based on the gif).

3. coloring

time to color! i want you to keep in mind during this section that everyone likes different colorings, and this is just my process! please don’t feel pressured to follow exactly what i’m doing, the best way to find what you like is to just mess around and experiment!

i like to start off with lighting adjustments: brightness/contrast, levels, exposure, and curves.

a. brightness/contrast i usually start out with this first, just because brightening the gif right away helps me start thinking about how i want to color! here are my settings:

b. levels/curves levels and curves can either be used interchangeably or together. i usually use levels to adjust lighting and curves to adjust color values, but i’ll go over using both for lighting as well as using curves for adjusting color values.

for both of these adjustments, i use the eyedropper tools to pick out white and black points. for levels, the top eyedropper tool to the left of the graph is used to pick out a black point. i do this first. use the tool to pick a spot on your gif that you want to be the base for black values. for me, that’s the shadow inside rey’s hood. the bottom eyedropper tool picks white point. use the tool to pick a spot on your gif that you want to be the base for white values. i chose the outside of rey’s hood. make sure you’re doing this on a new levels adjustment layer.

now, on to curves. you can either use the same eyedropper method or manipulate the graph directly. using the eyedropper is the same as levels, so i’ll just go over graph manipulation.

shade lightens as you move to the right along the x-axis of the graph — black is the far left, white is the far right, middle is the midtones. generally, i don’t work with midtones.

i’m going to use levels for this gif’s lighting, and curves to adjust color values. here’s how to do that:

curves can be used to adjust the amount of a certain color in different lighting areas of a gif. for example, i can specifically decrease the amount of green in the gif’s whites. to edit these values, select the rgb drop-down menu and adjust them one at a time. here are my final graphs:

c. exposure this one’s pretty straightforward. the exposure slider adjust general exposure. the offset slider adjusts how dark your dark points are, and gamma correction can be used to lighten/darken scenes as a whole. here’s my settings:

d. color balance color balance is used to adjust overall tint of a clip. this is in general pretty simple, but i do want to point out that using the shadow and highlights tabs in addition to just the midtones can really help. here’s my settings:

e. channel mixer channel mixer is one of my favorite tools in ps, especially for coloring scenes that are a pain in the ass without it. to avoid taking up too much space, here’s a great tutorial covering channel mixer. here’s my settings:

[at this point, i’m noticing my gif is still a bit darker than i’d like it, so i’m adding just a bit of brightness/contrast to fix it. there’s also a patch of blue over one of rey’s eyes, so i’ve used a hue/saturation layer to get rid of that bit and masked it to her eye. i’m not going to go over masking here, but there are lots of great tutorials out there!]

f. selective color selective color can be used to adjust the amount of specific colors within a color. for example, if i were to go into the red tab and take out cyans, the reds would become more red. if i were to add yellows, the reds would become more orange, etc etc. this can be especially good for color manipulation. for this gif, i’d like to make the background more blue, so i’m going to use selective color to do this. here’s my settings:

g. color lookup color lookup uses 3dlut files to remap gif colors (it’s a preset — think instagram filter or something similar). i don’t always use these, but when i do, i almost never leave them at 100% opacity. color lookup is great for giving gifs a film-type look if you want to do that, it’s got loads of different options. here’s my settings (adjustment layer is set to 20% opacity):

atp i’m pretty much done with coloring! i usually end up doing a few extra little lighting adjustments at the end. for this gif, i added some brightness/contrast at +8. i’ve also noticed that my gif’s looking a bit grainy, so i’ve added some noise to lean into it. this is usually the way i fix it, but you can definitely do reduce noise/gaussian blur as well if you don’t want a grainy look.

here’s my fully colored gif + a process gif (fast images warning):

「 saving gifs 」

1. frame rate

one thing you may have noticed is that my gif is looking a bit choppy. photoshop has a tendency to mess with frame delay after gifs are converted to video timeline. here’s how to fix that.

select all of your layers and convert them to a smart object (right click > convert to smart object). next, click on the hamburger menu in the top right of the timeline and go to convert frames > flatten frames into clips. now we need to change the timeline from video timeline to frame animation. click the little 3 boxes symbol in the bottom left corner of the timeline:

go to the hamburger menu again and select make frames (this is the same one you used earlier), then go through your frames and delete any duplicates. the first frame usually needs to be deleted specifically. once you’ve done that, set the frame delay back to 0.05 the way you did earlier.

2. exporting

once you’re happy with how your gif looks, go to file > export > save for web (legacy).

these are my export settings, but feel free to experiment with the menus where i have selective and diffusion selected, different settings work best for each gif. in general, most gifmakers only use selective/adaptive and diffusion/pattern because they generally work the best for tumblr. before saving, make sure your looping option is set to forever:

gif size for tumblr has a 10mb limit. my gif is under this, so i don’t need to make any changes, but if yours is over, you can either delete some frames from the beginning/end of your gif and/or adjust the height of the gif (width needs to stay 540px so your gif doesn’t get stretched/compressed on tumblr, but height is fair game).

here's my final gif!

happy giffing, and please don’t hesitate to send me any questions you have! ♡

#*mine #gif tutorial #tutorials #allresources #usertheos #userzesty #userzaynab #usershreyu #rogerhealey #userabs #userhekaates #usermaria #userraffa #usermorgan #uservivaldi #tuserheidi

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bakvrue · 1 year ago

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the things we don't do

izuku x reader

cw: DEATH, PARENTAL DEATH, hospice mentions, sadness, me projecting onto izuku, very very sad, grief, feeling of loss, depression, anxiety, sad (again), wc 1.2k, header by @/cafekitsune

It's been either a few minutes or a few hours. Izuku can't tell.

He sits on your couch taking a break from the room that has stolen his attention away for the past few days.

A spare room turned into a makeshift hospital. Bottles of liquid medicine easy to administer as well as adult briefs, wet wipes, cleaning supplies, and a small booklet about the process of dying sit neatly organized on a table.

Everything you need to take care of a dying parent.

It didn't sneak up on her, Inko's age and a myriad of health complications have been accumulating over the years, but that doesn't make the pain of losing someone easier; the pain of losing your mom any easier.

Izuku looks at the clock, counting the hours to make sure that he has the dosing times right, and closes his eyes. Never once did he think that he would suddenly be in charge of administering morphine, but he would do anything just to make his mom feel less pain.

He walks through the kitchen trying to remember what last he ate before shaking his head, he's not hungry anyways, and heads back to Inko's room.

He moved a comfortable chair from your living room into this makeshift hospital room so that he could at least sit more comfortably, so he makes himself at home.

It's been five days since she was brought home, and two days since she has uttered a word or opened her eyes. He can hear her soft snores over the sound of the movie he put on, one that she always put on for him when he was a kid.

He can see her now laughing at her favorite part, singing along to the music, doing that silly little dance she always did. It hurts him to look over at her now, but he does because soon he won't be able to ever again.

He holds her hand as he watches the movie with her, occasionally sending out texts to friends and family members giving them updates. He's not sure how much more he can update them since there's not much happening.

The woman in the movie jumps off of a roof onto a paper lantern zipline as fireworks explode indicating that the movie is just about over. Izuku kisses his mother's hand and sets it down gently on the bed.

There's a few minutes before the next round of medicine, just enough time to clean up the room a little bit.

The raisable hospital table that she no longer can use is converted into the supply storage and his new desk for sorting medicine. The wipes are stacked from largest to smallest in the corner, the paper towels and latex gloves finding their home next to them. A small vase of flowers is moved next to a new larger vase just delivered today, all that's left is some trash on the bedside table.

That's when he sees it.

They say that it's the smallest things that break you, and he supposes that's true now.

Wrapped up in its wrapper is half of an eaten lollipop.

He remembers the last day she was conscious he found this lollipop hiding in his pantry. It's a special one you could only find in certain shops, its chalky consistency reminding him of summer days during his childhood when Inko would eat these when she got home from work.

He had excitedly ran to her room to show her his find, and she had made excited grabby hands for it, even though her mind was slipping she remembered the joy of her favorite treat.

Izuku watched her that day enjoying the treat, until she got halfway done with it.

"Let's save the rest for later, okay Mom?"

She pouted at him but agreed, "Later."

He had wanted to be able to give it to her later, to use it as a reward for having some soup for dinner. A little treat to brighten her again.

But he didn't know that would be the last day she would ever speak to him.

Izuku looks at the lollipop again and feels sick to his stomach. He covers his eyes and walks out of the room. It feels wrong breaking down in front of the one person you wish could comfort you but can't.

He goes back to the living room with tears blurring his vision, pacing before he decides to sit.

Of course he did this, of course he took away this one comfort from her and didn't let her finish it.

His head falls into his hands, and sobs escape him as he lets himself fall farther into this feeling. He's drowning in his own thoughts.

He took away her happiness, just like every time before when he had told her no. When he said no to fast food. When he said no to this trip, or to getting that puppy, or any other things that she asked for. Every "No" rushes into his head.

His throat is raw, and he can barely breathe, he doesn't care. What does it matter when the person who cheered for him the hardest is beyond repair? What does an optimist do when their spirit finally gets broken?

He thinks about the lollipop again, and another choked sobs breaks through him.

Izuku doesn't hear your keys turn the lock as you enter your home, two large grocery bags in hand, but you can hear him. You set down all your things as quickly as possible and then set out to find him.

And what you find breaks your heart. He's folded over his knees, sobs making his shoulders shake as you quickly run to envelope him. Taking whatever weights he needs off his shoulders.

He wraps his arms around you and cries into your shoulder. He's so grateful for you, more than you could ever know at that moment.

When he's quieted down, he holds you tighter. "Do you want to know what that was about?"

You nod, "Yeah, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I do." He sniffles and wipes his tears on your shirt. "I took her happiness away from her… why couldn't I just give her what she wanted?"

Izuku can feel the tears rising up again and his lower lip starts to wobble as he continues.

"I never let her do anything, why didn't I just let her?"

"Oh, Izuku," you hold him tighter and he does the same.

"I never stopped to get her food, I never took her to do things, I couldn't even let her finish a stupid lollipop."

Your presence calms him, just having you next to him lets him hear how all of this really sounds out loud, but it still hurts him.

You pull back from his embrace so you can wipe the tears from his face. Salt steaks layered over freckles wiped away by your thumbs.

You press your forehead against his, "You tried to do what was best for her. You didn't stop for fast food because you wanted her to eat healthier, you didn't take her to do crazy things like horseback riding, you didn't get her a puppy because it would have been your puppy. You're a good son Izuku."

Izuku's lip quivers as he pulls himself into you again. He takes a deep breath as tears roll down his cheek once again.

He hears your words, he knows they're true, but god does it still hurt.

His phone alarm goes off from Inko's room telling him that it's time to give her meds. He kisses your shoulder and stands up, heading back to his mom.

#izuku x reader #deku x reader #💕.izuku #cw parental death #cw death

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hwaightme · 2 years ago

Text

Your fan, San (part 1)

(part 2) (your fan ml)

💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 5.3k 💬 warnings/tags: language, simping, hopeless romantic, linguistics, interpreter/translator reader, duo bird terrors, ateez wingman alliance, concerts, public speaking, job stress, slow burn, falling in love hard and fast 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @senpai-of-doom, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea💬 a/n: Hello there <3 we all know the standard languages, but how will Choi San, our next Fan in the series, go about learning the language of love? Let's find out! Thank you so much for your love and support, biggest hugs and stay tuned <3<3<3

ATINY were overwhelmingly supportive when San spoke a foreign language.

But he disliked it.

Because it meant that you had to stop.

And San loved nothing more than to see you gaze at him, fully focused, professional, and practically reading his mind as you translated his words at record speed.

Well you did that for every single member of ATEEZ, but that was besides the point. His focus was always on you.

You reminded him of a river. Gentle in your appearance and demeanour. At the same time, you possessed a unique turbulence, you could stand strong and proud, a fire in your eyes - the embodiment of passion as you spoke.

But exclusively if you felt the moment called for it. You were always transforming. Fluid. You were an ever-changing season. An unstoppable current. San wholly believed you had the power to see right through people because of how well you captured their sentiment.

San had always valued communication, and wanted to be on the same page as anyone he talked to. But unfortunately, that meant spending long hours hunched over books and staring at a demonic green owl on his phone.

In the early days of his career, that had been enough, but as the fanbase grew larger and more international, the pressure he had begun to feel when it came to simply talking and delivering a message was unprecedented.

He was not able to joke around, not able to say exactly what he wanted, and more often than not gave up and said something easier. But the passion was still there. Very much alive. So, San kept at it. Trying not to make Duo sad.

Of course, he was well aware that no matter how hard he tried, he and the rest of the members would not be able to become perfectly fluent by the next promotions and world tour, so having an interpreter on board was a must. This was so that they could focus on connecting with the audience on a much deeper level, so they would not be hindered either by vocabulary or by worry (even if they could explain themselves well).

Hence why it had not come as a surprise that the selection process for an interpreter, according to some staff San was friendly with, had been immensely difficult. So much so that apparently, a high percentage had quit before even making it close to the final rounds, and then those in the last selection stage had to risk facing humiliation, the test being interpreting at a live, high stress event.

And then, with only a few days before ATEEZ were meant to depart to Japan, they had received the news that an interpreter had been picked out. Prior to the concerts, you had barely interacted - only a couple of waves here and there. San noticed that you were on the quieter side, an avid reader, and had a habit of making notes on your phone.

He had initially assumed you were always texting someone, but after curiosity got the better of him and he had decided to at least become acquaintances, he was shown the insanity that was literary Japanese, reviews of honorifics and formal speech, colloquial phrases and translation of slang. You had even gone so far as to create your own guide for finding local analogies to different mythological or popular media references.

That was strike one.

Every single concert you were adaptive, and attentive to ATEEZ. You had even begun to check in on them prior to know what emotional landscape they wanted to deliver. You knew the setlist off by heart, had memorised the pauses between songs and when the members were to have live interactions with the audience that would require your participation.

When in your role, your demeanour changed entirely. Your voice was level, pronunciation like that of a native, and well measured out. San swore even he had begun learning Japanese passively simply because it was so easy to understand you.

Then, after the concerts were done, you did not take any compliments, merely smiling them off, instead being proud of everyone around you. You thanked the sound engineers, the technical staff, the security... anyone who you had the chance to thank, you did. It was a given that you congratulated ATEEZ after their performances, commending them for their hard work. When San had attempted to return the praises, he was met with that same bashful grin, and you explaining that you were merely extending their hearts out to the audience.

That was strike two.

And finally, there was the last concert. Sold out, with tens of thousands of ATINY, there to spend this amazing time together with the idols. And then, to deliver a surprise gift in the form of an animated video created by a group of dedicated fans who had painstakingly adapted submissions into the style of an animated film. It was a story of how important ATEEZ were to the fans, how they were heroes, how they deserved infinite amounts of love.

Each of the nation's prefectures had been represented, and at the end there was a 'handover' to the rest of the world, sending appreciation to other ATINY who will be meeting ATEEZ next. The majority of the group was tearing up, and while delivering their speeches, struggled to control their emotions. Each phrase was a cry from the soul, and San was not sure how it was possible to translate something like this.

And yet, you did. In that mellifluous voice, now holding a tinge of melancholy, you patiently collaborated with each member, listening to them pour themselves out, and pouring yourself out eightfold. Those who were able to understand Korean had already been misty-eyed, but as you included the others, the atmosphere changed completely.

It was a total unity. That complete understanding. The communication that San was always seeking. It did not matter how many people there were in a given place. What mattered, was that you were the key to reaching them all. So, on a whim, instead of letting Hongjoong do the honours like he normally would, he overtook the leader in announcing you. In thanking you for your hard work and for being the link between them and ATINY. Please applaud L/N Y/N, master interpreter.

That was strike three.

San was ready to risk it all, became the president of your growing fan club, and hearing your voice stopped being a want. It became a need.

To this day you were confused as to how your life had unfolded. To an extent, it was like you were put on standby and then watched someone who looked just like you go and do cool things with your life.

You had joined KQ Entertainment on a contractual basis to support ATEEZ in the Japan leg of their tour, and technically, were supposed to part ways as soon as it was over. But as luck (or someone else's unfortunate series of events) would have it, due to the incredibly short time between schedules, unexpected illnesses and conflicts, you were offered to join the group in the US as well.

It was an easy decision for you.

Firstly, because you had gotten close enough with the members, since your job was to deliver not only the words, but also their emotional weight.

Secondly, bold of anyone to assume that you had other job offers lying around when most companies had hiring freezes and could not care less for your work experience and skills.

But no one needed to know about that second part.

Instead, you simply agreed, and as such, signed yourself up to way more than you had ever expected.

And what was that exactly? Your own strange version of fame in the form of ATINY calling you the ATEEZ Megaphone, the Voice of Reason, 8 Makes 1 Voice, Miss Worldwide (which officially imprinted the rapper Pitbull into your head), ATEEZmind... among many, many others.

You had become a kind of staple to ATEEZ performances abroad, with fans cheering when you made appearances for the interludes between songs. And the couple of times that you had been asked to be on standby for fan signs, there had been some ATINY who came up to you, as though you were the ninth member of ATEEZ, just to thank you for being there for the fans, for making the connection so much more special, and for working so hard to make ATEEZ global.

Did you cry a bit in your hotel room after that had happened? Yes - what could one say? You were very sentimental, and this kind of softness just did it for you. Also you had made a small plushie, a big-eyed, adorable kitten that an ATINY in the US had given to you, a permanent travel companion.

At the very start of your time at KQ, your insecurities had been running high, and you would spend sleepless nights reviewing just what you had translated, convincing yourself that you could have done a better job, writing ceaselessly on receipts, envelopes, in notebooks and in notes on your phone the myriad of alternatives your could conjure only after the event.

You had never thought that after completing your higher education in linguistics you would end up being a moderately high profile interpreter. At best, you had laid out a peaceful, uneventful life as a translator in some publishing house, spending your days in front of a computer and stacks of dictionaries. You imagined yourself to be a theorist, a silent practitioner of the craft rather than an attention-demanding performer.

That was how you had been throughout your early years. Reading. Writing. Speaking when necessary, afraid of saying the wrong thing. It was a vicious cycle. You dedicated yourself to classics, finding tranquility and reassurance in complexity and archaic passages (a stark contrast to the slang and inside jokes that you were now having to process at high speeds).

It was only in later years of university that you started breaking out of your shell, after you and a couple of your peers had been scouted to aid in an international conference. You had agreed since it would be a glorious add-on to your CV, but did not expect for it to take you as far as it had done.

If you had to use an analogy for how you felt, it would be like a surfer who just kept on living through fluke after fluke. The waves that you were being hit with were more and more menacing, approaching tsunami heights, but you were still standing, amazed that you had not been swept under.

Maybe no one was going to stop you, or talk to you on the street, ever, but the sheer thought was enough to throw you through a loop. You were not there to be a persona, nor a star. You were there because you loved languages, for goodness' sake, and had been selected to use that love in a way that helped those who actually wanted to be and were stars to connect with their fans.

Interestingly, from the beginning of your journey, you had found reassurance and comfort in one of the unlikeliest people. And really, it had been him who had ended up making a lot of things in your life just fall into place.

San.

Aside from Hongjoong, who, being the captain, was constantly interacting with all staff even outside of the immediate circle, San had been the first to take an interest in what you were doing, and why you were loitering around the corridors backstage, eyes glued to your phone.

You had at first assumed that he was going to scold you, having seen a couple of live shows where he was more than displeased about fellow members not paying their full attentions thanks (or no thanks) to the mobile phones in their hands.

But the look of genuine curiosity in his eyes quickly cleared up your concerns, and when he had begun to ask questions... you had gone on a roll. Conclusion: if someone were to ask you about linguistics, they better prepare themselves for a TEDx Talk because you were not going to serve them any less.

Although you had tried to convince yourself all throughout your higher education and work life that you did not need validation, the passionate encouragement that San had given you that day was a big driving force for you to try even harder for the Japan concerts. And even to you, your own biggest critic, the change had been noticeable. And nothing short of exhilarating.

By the last concert in the country, you were excited to step on the side of the stage. You wanted to speak to ATINY, you wanted to share the beautiful words ATEEZ were sending their way, with them. It was your duty and your desire. And it is a commonly known fact that a job that is loved, is a job that turns into fun.

It was that exact concert that had become your 'break'. Right at the end, when everyone was saying their goodbyes, San decided to give you a special mention, to which the lighting team had responded by, quite literally, putting the spotlight on you.

Over thirty thousand people in the arena, and even more online, now knew who the woman behind the voice was. They knew who was, effectively, dubbing their favourite K-Pop group.

The shoutout had been entirely unexpected, sure, and it had made your confidence crumble a little as you struggled to find the right words to both thank San and translate what was happening. It felt like two conflicting signals were entering your brain at the same time.

But at the same time, it made you feel real. It made you feel like you really had been speaking. And that you had been heard. The beauty and the curse about language, was that it was a tool to connect. Even in written form. It's perception and appreciation could only be achieved if there was a person to do it. And in spoken form, seeing the nods, hearing the sighs, any reactions from another, that was the way you knew you had done your job.

So instead of cowering away, like you would have done only a couple of years ago, you stepped into the light, in front of the audience. You thanked them from the bottom of your heart, bowing, and then, turned to do the same to ATEEZ, with perfect grace, and honest appreciation. The photographs of you had rapidly made rounds around the internet, and the hashtag #thankyouYN had climbed up in trending on Twitter for a short while.

It was odd to think that you felt at home in the environment that you had been afraid of, and that people praised you for what you had been insecure about all your life. At the same time, you did not want to be a star, and even when ATINY sent you messages, or cheered for you, you kindly tried to switch the attention back to ATEEZ. You were there because you loved languages, and had been selected to use that love in a way that helped connect the real shining, talented and hard-working stars with the loyal, brilliant and kind fans.

If your short progression from a nervous new hire to a fully-fledged interpreter with a tour under your belt were to be simplified, one could say that San had been a catalyst for your opening up. Thus, he might have been the reason why you had been made a permanent member of staff.

it was only so far that luck could carry you, and without having the skill and dedication to your name, KQ had the power to dismiss you with a click of a finger. There were undoubtedly thousands of talented interpreters out there, who would have dropped everything to go to the US and beyond. But KQ had settled for you. And you wanted to do your best to do everything in your power to make ATEEZ perfectly international.

And just like that, a whirlwind of a world tour had passed, and you, plushie in hand, and heavy luggage rolling behind you, were on your way home to an apartment that probably forgot that it even had an owner (who - shocker - still had to pay rent even when continents away). You were told that you were to have a 'bit of a break' since the group was to firstly rest, and secondly focus on local promotions for the next couple of months.

What did that mean for you? It was time to become a social recluse and freelance some translations. Another side benefit that had come from your increase in popularity was that you had come to get more commissions both through your independent channels, and through company requests.

It was easy enough to plough through the standard documents that publishing houses sent you, the only difficulty being if say, you had been translating from Korean to Japanese for hours on end, and then your next project asked you to translate English to Spanish, you would need a moment to rewire a bit. But at the same time that was the fun bit - keeping up fluency to a top-level professional standard in as many languages as you could.

What was a little less easy, but had grown to be your guilty pleasure, was the private commissions you received. Of course, you had your set of rules, limitations, restrictions - whatever one wanted to call it, but undoubtedly, the individual was more creative than the corporation. You had received requests to translate long paragraphs of breakup texts, fan fiction - though you did have to put an end to that era since you had begun to receive... interesting ATEEZ content, love poems, dark poems, essays... if it was written, you had probably received it at least once.

Since starting this little side adventure, you had been quite selective, as this was still a portfolio of your work, and you needed to keep a good image. So you were no stranger to dismissing orders if they did not sit right with you.

This was exactly what you were doing, early morning upon your return. The sun was streaming into your bedroom as you were sat at your desk, clicking and typing away response after response, deletion after deletion... until one particular request had caught your eye.

It had been sent at an odd time of night, but who were you to judge - you had not even slept yet. The writing felt familiar, friendly, open. The greeting and explanation were all respectful, and they had even commented on some of the work you had previously done.

They were also honest about how they had discovered you - they were a dedicated ATINY, and a big reader, so when they found out who the skilled Korean to Japanese interpreter for ATEEZ was, they really wanted to get to know your work better. And after doing so, felt it only right to request your services.

You were flattered, and after looking through the file they had sent - which turned out to be an excerpt from a very recently published Korean book that had not been translated to any language yet, you agreed to help. With a smile on your face, you sent back an email accepting the order, adding a reminder of expected timescales and fees.

"OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS IT IS HAPPENING IT IS HAPPENING IT IS HAPPENING SHE RESPONDED AND SHE ACCEPTED AAAAAAH"

San yelled at the top of his voice, nearly approaching Wooyoung's witch laugh register. Seonghwa, who had made the mistake of sitting right next to him rapidly covered his ears and winced as the action did not help - the man took him by the shoulder and started shaking him excitedly, while rereading the standard business email from you as though it was a Nobel laureate's magnum opus.

With the hoots of support from the rest of the members, they were sure to have scared off any form of wilderness and other visitors in the vicinity - since they had a few days off, on a whim they decided to get out of the dorms and enjoy nature by going on a camping trip.

Though this action seemed to result only in higher phone use than usual, particularly from San, who had reached his breaking point when it came to you.

It was obvious from the start that he was not indifferent towards you. From the quick glances in your direction, to the efforts that he had made in secret to try and improve both his English and Japanese (to the point of changing language settings on his devices and getting some novels and textbooks in the respective languages), he was always paying attention to what you were doing.

During concerts, when he knew you were out there on the stage, ready and in place before a talking segment, he would perform with even more vigour, sending the cameras his most alluring glances. He knew you would be looking at the screens, and he wanted you to focus on him.

And then there was his new role as president of the interpreter fan club. This was an inside joke floating around the fandom, becoming more popular when during a concert in the US, he had decided to jokingly test you by saying pickup lines he had learned in different languages. Everyone had taken it to be 'classic San being playful', but his intention was to just shamelessly flirt with you.

But he was the one who had ended up being flustered as you translated all that he said without your eyes leaving him a single time, a hint of a smirk on your face. It was almost like you were saying it all right back to him. Only him. He hoped that were the case.

If he were to be any more obvious, Hongjoong personally would make a public service announcement about San being all up in his feelings for you. He had busted through the wall of being just a fan like a monster truck, and was already a few months deep in the infatuation phase.

"Who's the simp now, huh?" Hongjoong could not resist taking a jab at the younger member, out of respect for the nerve cells he had lost.

The only downside was that San was not even denying it, nor fighting against the label. Instead he just kept on showing those near him the fact that he had an email from you, and in the future he would have a translation, done just for him, by you. And what fun was it if the person you were trying to roast had no verbal ammo at the ready?

"At least it's not bath water he is buying..." Seonghwa whispered, still unable to fully recover from the shake-up and massaging his now sore shoulder.

"We couldn't find it, that's next on the list." Wooyoung picked up on the retort. He approached San and patted him on the back, "Isn't that right?"

"Oh fuck off... but for real this is so cool. She is going to be doing what she loves, and doing it for me~" in a sing-song voice, he recounted, again, the battle plan that he and the rest of ATEEZ had conjured.

"See? I told you it would be a good idea." Yunho commented proudly, while climbing out of his tent. Mingi followed suit, though he did not get out fully, instead choosing to sit right at the entrance and applaud himself from there:

"And look at me go with that perfect book choice."

It had been a very spontaneous decision to pick it, but he did not have to market it as such. Since he was the one to actually go into book stores at least sometimes, the members trusted him well enough to go with what he proposed.

"Well executed, lads. Mission successful, we are levelling up." Wooyoung clapped his hands and gave a quick salute, while San was still in his own reality.

A rare silence fell upon the group. But, just as they were about to move on, with some of the members being on 'response-crafting duty', Yeosang, after much pondering, stated:

"Senpai is finally noticing you after like... a year," which finally snapped San out of his enchantment.

"HEY it's only been like... nine months... and a bit... that isn't a year!" he tried to sound convincing, but it just came out as desperate. At least he stopped himself from saying the exact number of weeks and days since he had first met you.

"Yeah, yeah, keep saying that."

"This is exactly why we are doing operation 'Love Language'." to come to the smitten one's defense, Yunho piped in, now having managed to wedge himself between San and Seonghwa, the latter mouthing him a 'thank you' with a pained smile.

"I thought it was because we are sick and tired of his shit?" Jongho asked monotonously, head perched on his hand while he had at the far end of the picnic table ATEEZ had expropriated.

"That too! But-"

"And that if he goes any harder on stage he'll turn into Magic Mike?" Yeosang took Jongho's side in a split second, them exchanging a knowing look of comrades in misery.

"Careful, ATINY might ask for that."

The captain attempted to get the discussion back on at least some kind of track, while being well aware that this group had a special talent in de-railing. And his comment did not help a single bit, instead provoking Wooyoung.

"They already do, ever been online?"

"I have, and it's either cursed conspiracy theories about our lore or thirst edits." Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, getting flashbacks to an impossibly long Twitter thread that he spent half an hour of his life on, just to confirm that at this point, him and CEO Kim Gyu Uk were alone in big-braining the universe.

"I bet you watch demon line edits Joongie-" Wooyoung winked at him, and sent some finger guns.

"Right this is OFF TOPIC!" the captain attempted to rein the kids in, albeit half-heartedly.

"There's a topic?" Yeosang leaned over to Jongho and asked him, not expecting a response, since it was obviously 'no'.

"Yeah, and it is that Y/N and San are going to be in closer contact now." Wooyoung addressed the group, stretching his hands out, every bit a narrator on stage.

"But isn't it more like: Y/N being in contact with San who is parading as an ATINY with an interesting taste in books?" Mingi raised an eyebrow and questioned.

"Tom-ay-to tom-ah-to, whatever. At least they're going to be talking more personally."

"And not in front of my fuckin' salad," the maknae asserted, "I am seriously surprised she has not caught on that you are trying to pull moves all this time."

"Maybe... just maybe... I have a sneaking suspicion... that it could be the million-person audience that does it. Really sets a romantic, and intimate mood." Seonghwa added, words dripping with irony.

"Well, you guys, there isn't much that I can really do about that, can I? This is what our jobs and lifestyles are."

With an exasperated sigh, San shut off his phone and slumped down on the bench, just nearly missing Yunho. He cupped his head in his hands, and gazed off, wistfully, into the distance. As of late, when he was not practicing or performing, he would be be daydreaming, just like this.

"Maybe you could just forget that and... ask her out?" Hongjoong verbally knocked San back into the ring,

"SAYS WHO? My man, do you want me to remind you of a couple of things?"

"Yeah, please do, and I will remind you of your shamelessness and the death wish you apparently still have."

"Gents, gents! We still have a 'thank you' email to write, we need at least one brain cell for that."

Yunho's call for action ended up being the most effective of all, as the group gathered around San, and commenced shouting over one another in an attempt to write a single coherent line acknowledging that the information has been received, and that they will be paying half the fee shortly.

Why had the call been effective? Because San managed to do the impossible. He managed to drive his fellow members up the wall with his pining to the point where they could not take it anymore, and made it their mission to save San.

It was Y/N this, Y/N that. All. The. Time.

"Y/N taught me some English slang the other day, do you want to hear?"

"Did you know that Y/N co-translated this bestseller?"

"Have you heard her speaking in French? I am out here only knowing 'Paris Baguette' and she is like a native - while saying that she barely knows it."

"Did you see how she looked at me after that performance? Told you it was a good idea for me to change the outfit up!"

"Wait I'll be back in five minutes I want to say hi to Y/N!"

Even Wooyoung minimised his teasing, simply because the man was totally gone. There had been a phase for about a month where his affection towards you maybe was within the realm of reasonable, and 'light' enough for the rest of ATEEZ to poke fun at him.

But San being San, that changed fast. The more chances he got to speak with you, the more he got to find out what you liked, the more certain he became that 'you were the one', you were 'talent and skill itself' and you were the dream alive.

At the same time, San being San, he was not verbal about his feelings. Not even a bit. In his mind, that was over-stepping, and was off limits. So he did everything else 'over the top' instead.

The peak of it had of course been the 'putting you on a (well-deserved) pedestal' in front of ATINY. That had been a cry of a man who fell hard and fast in love, and that same night, ATEEZ had hosted a UN-level meeting around how to proceed. Hongjoong had already been aware that you were going to be extended a permanent offer, so timelines did not matter much - except for the remnants of the members' sanity.

Wooyoung ended up interrupting the proceedings with his screech of "IT IS OKAY TO FALL IN LOVE", and as such, the action was let go, only to see it become a much adored trend in the fandom. The members thought that this would mean major progress. But no. No, you had to be the oblivious one.

Had to be the one so dedicated to her job that you interpreted San's signals as general friendliness and support. You respected him, yes. You most definitely were grateful to him, and out of all ATEEZ members you spoke to him the most. But to none of them was it ENOUGH.

Even when he had made you to interpret his flirtations (as prompted by Wooyoung), you took it just as 'a regular day with ATEEZ', whilst making him nearly go into cardiac arrest.

That was when the plan came about. To strike through literature. Through language. To express love through the pages of a book, in the hopes of translating that to real feeling. It was convoluted, and had no real outcome except trusting chance, and fate, but San was enough of a hopeless romantic to agree to it in a heartbeat.

Because what was the fun in confessing over text, right? He had your number, you messaged one another before, but again, 'what if he ruined something by messaging the wrong thing'? Besides, he could not think of an excuse to text you outside of work without feeling like he was being too pushy.

Thus, operation 'Love Language' became everyone's problem, and everyone's daily dose of drama.

Except for you, without a clue, having brewed some tea, sat down like L from Death Note on your chair, and got to work.

#k-labels #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez san x reader #choi san #san x y/n #choi san x y/n #ateez san #ateez san fluff #your fan series #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #kpop writers #kpop writing #hwaightme #ateez x reader

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jennyfromthebes · 2 months ago

Note

hii!! i really love your mountain goats patches, and i was wondering how you make them?

Hi! I'm so sorry this has taken me a little while to answer haha, I've been putting it off because I wanted to give a nice in-depth response.

My patches are all original designs that I make as linocuts and then print onto fabric! I use a Speedball lino carve tool that has several different carving tips, easy carve rubber blocks, and screenprinting ink, and I print onto regular cotton fabric. Screenprinting ink is thicker than the type of ink you're supposed to use for block printing, but I've found that I have to be pretty heavy-handed with the ink to get clean prints on fabric, and screenprinting ink has worked better for me in that regard (plus, it's technically machine wash safe as long as you heat set it).

More specifics/some process photos and a timelapse from my latest tMG patch under the cut!

I don't know if you're looking for specific technique advice, but here's some of what I've figured out after a year of making my patches:

I usually make my design digitally and then use tracing paper to transfer it. If you trace it onto tracing paper using pencil, you can then just flip your tracing paper pencil-side down onto your block and use a little bit of pressure to transfer the pencil markings. This process also simultaneously mirrors your design so that you carve it backwards and then it prints forwards.

Before transferring my design to the block, I like to do a wash with an alcohol ink on the carving surface, so that it's easier to see my carving.

I usually trace the larger details of the design with sharpie, but for the smaller details trying to trace them will often just mess up the lines, so I leave those in the transferred pencil and carve them first to avoid smudging the transferred lines.

I also carve my entire block using the smallest tip on my carving tool, which does take longer but I vastly prefer the really precise control that it gives me! After I have the entire design and an outline around it carved, I'll use a craft knife to cut off a big blank margin around the outside of the design.

For printing a batch of patches, because I typically do a lot at one time, I usually cut out all my fabric before starting to print. I ink the block a little bit heavily, but I keep a close eye on any excess ink around the edges of the design and clean the block off as needed. I don't have any fancy equipment for making prints, I pretty much just put a sheet of paper down on my work surface, put down a piece of fabric, press my block face down on the fabric and use a large book and some pressure on top of the block to make sure the print transfers well. It's taken a lot of practice to figure out how to get prints to turn out well and I made a lot of mistakes in the beginning!

[image descriptions:

1 - a digital drawing, black lines on a light green background, of a ring of keys with a large key and a plastic motel keychain with the words "practice being brave".

2 - the same design, copied to tracing paper.

3 - my hand holding a pink rubber lino block with a blue ink wash on the surface and the mirrored design in pencil.

4 - the same block, fully carved. it fits comfortably in my hand.

5 - the block with a ruler held up against it to show the scale of the text, the entirety of the word "practice" is about 1 1/4" wide.

6 - the design printed in black ink onto light green fabric.

end IDs]

[video description: a timelapse of a white person with dark hair and glasses at a desk carving a linocut block. the shot is stationary and mostly focuses on the block, which is a design of a key ring with a keychain and the words "practice being brave". end VD]

This shows more or less my entire process; the design went through many iterations over the span of a couple weeks, but once I got it nailed down I did the entire rest of the process in one night - just the carving alone took about two hours. I prefer to write text physically not digitally, so the text in the digital version is basically just in the correct alignment so I can freehand over it on the physical copy. This being my most recent design (for now, I'm hoping to knock out a new one before next show in three weeks) is by a pretty big margin the most precise and detailed one I've done!

Thanks so much for your interest in my process!!! I've got absolutely no formal training on doing linocuts, just stubbornly figuring things out through reverse engineering and trial-and-error process, so I have no idea how this measures up to anyone who does do it with any expertise. Hopefully this was helpful in some way/answered your question! 💛

#transmissions from lyric #ask #txt #described #the patch zone #<- click on this tag to see all of the patches ive posted on here!

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little-red-fool · 9 months ago

Note

OMG YOU'RE SEVENTEEN?? (I've been following you for months and I didn't once read the pinned message beyond the line about no AI and NFTs lmao) YOUR ART IS SO CRISPY I THOUGHT YOU WERE A PRO ARTIST AROUND 30 WTF

(sorry for the yelling via text)

HOW DID YOU GET SO GOOD!! (Tips on lineart please?) WE'RE THE SAME AGE, BUT HALF OF MY ART IS SHIT AND THE OTHER HALF IS FART

ALL HAIL LITTLE RED FOOL, BESTOW THY GREATNESS UPON THOU MERE MORTAL SERVANTS

But in all seriousness, any tips on, like I said, lineart or just digital art in general? (I just started digital, and... Ten hours of work and I'm just on base colors 😎🕶️🤏🥲) I love, LOVE your style and especially COLOR! How do you tie it all together? Like, I'm 17 too, but I'm not even close to your stuff?? I'm scared as fuck from ever trying color traditionally because I spend SO MUCH TIME ON A SKETCH, so I just picked up digital and HOURS LATER IT'S STILL AWFUL

Sorry for the rambling and repeating, man, it's been a long day and it's late in the Balkans... Don't let the rambling force you into answering tho

Have a good one. ->excited fellow artist

(tip of the day: did you know that in Romanian, moon and month are the same word, with the same pronunciation, spelling and plural? It's called: lună [loonuh] and I think it comes from latin, since Romanian is a heavily latin language, with bits of french and turkish (HEAVY bits), dacian, slavic, italian)

OUAHFSHD THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M REALLY HAPPY YOU LIKE MY ART!! Also I’m sure your art is better than you think it is (we generally tend to view our own creations as worse than others because we’re the ones that made them, don’t worry I’m the same as well ajdbsjd) but yeah I’ll be happy to give you some tips and stuff! (and yeah I never colour traditionally either I just leave everything in plain biro because I don’t want to mess it up lol)

(I haven’t seen your art so these will probably be more general tips but hopefully they’ll help a bit, also keep in mind that I’m not a professional so this will be more about what has worked for me but I hope it might help you a bit)

So for stuff like lineart, avoid using chicken-scratches—it might seem easier or less daunting to do shorter overlapping lines like that but it will give your sketches and drawings that overall fuzzy look, the trick is to have longer confident strokes. It might seem a bit tricky at first if you haven’t done it before so don’t worry it happens but if you keep practicing they’ll eventually look smoother and less shaky. For the longer lines it better to draw from either your elbow or shoulder, and by that I mean keeping your wrist still and letting the larger parts of your arm do most of the work—this will also help your wrist in the long run. For things like shorter lines and smaller details then absolutely use your hand to move the pen, but generally try to use your elbow and shoulder as it will help you get those longer smoother lines. Also this is just a personal preference of mine but I generally use brushes that have a bit of pressure sensitivity which helps add some line weight. If you don’t have pressure sensitivity another way you can get line weight is by taking an eraser to some of the edges and narrowing some parts.

For colours it mainly depends on the lighting—lighting is everything and will affect how the rest of the colours will look, so it’s important to have an idea of the brightness and colour of your lighting. The background also plays an important role in picking colours for me as well as it helps provide colour context and makes it easier to pick colours by eye if you want a certain mood. If you want a more dependable way on getting colours to match up then I’d recommend having a layer that’s just colour on top of the rest of your piece—you can play around with the blending modes and opacity, I mainly use either an overlay layer with a medium colour that’s slightly desaturated or a colour burn layer with a light saturated colour; most of the time I use colour burn because if you put it over your lineart then it will also tint the parts of your lineart or sketch that’s at a lower opacity too. But with figuring out colours I’d highly recommend researching some stuff about colour theory, there are a lot of good and easy to understand explanations and art tutorials on YouTube so I would recommend starting there (unfortunately I can’t link recommend specific videos because my playlists are a mess ajdbsjdbsj but some good channels to learn from are Sinix Design, Marc Brunet and Marco Bucci).

In terms of general digital art tips, ALWAYS FLIP YOUR CANVAS. You will not believe the amount of times I’ve looked at a drawing and thought it looked pretty good, flipped the canvas and found that everything’s wonky. In cases like these the liquify tool is your best friend, as well as the lasso tool and transform tools, as well as just manually fixing them by redrawing some parts. Also use as many layers as you need, and by this I mean if you’re working on your sketch, lineart or colouring or whatever and you want to do something you’re not sure you’ll like, duplicate the layers so you have a backup in case it goes wrong and you want to go back. When I say use as many layers as you need I mean use as many as you need, these are some of mine and they’re all from just one sketch because I get really anxious about messing stuff up lol, also don’t be afraid of drawing separate parts on separate layers and merging them afterwards if you want.

Also take your time, unless you have a deadline don’t feel like you have to complete a drawing within a certain timeframe, if you want to get faster at drawing then that’s great but don’t feel like you need to push yourself, especially if you’re just starting. Practice takes time and patience is your best friend, and you probably hear lots of other artists saying this but trust the process. You might get to a bit you’re struggling with and not like it and want to abandon the drawing, but I found that rather than saying “this is bad” or “this is wrong” start asking “how can I make this work” because a change in mindset can help you a lot with art. Also don’t feel like you have to reach certain milestones with your art by certain points either, like with the age thing and comparing your progress with other artists of either the same or different ages, because it can make you feel worse about your art. Trust me there are some artists younger than me who are like 14 or 15 who’s art I envy and—again with the mindset thing—instead of getting down that your art isn’t similar to their’s or worrying that you’re “behind” in your artistic development (there is no such thing btw everyone learns at different ages and speeds so don’t feel bad if you haven’t progressed as much as you would have liked to) it helps to ask what you like about their art and what you would like to incorporate into your own—this has helped me learn and improve a lot faster.

I don’t know if I have any more tips at the moment, but I hope that answered some of your questions! (also sorry it’s a bit long or some bits don’t make a lot of sense I like to ramble a bit lol) (also also thank you for the little fact as well!)

Have a nice day anon 🧡

#asks #art tips

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snippychicke · 1 year ago

Text

For the Sake of a Smile (V.2) Chapter Seven

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: T for teen. Some violence, and some innuendo

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child.

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

The mansion was oddly quiet, reminding you of the days shortly after you arrived in the Netherworld, when everyone else was at Babyls and you were left to your own devices.

Granted, a few days ago you had awoken to chaos as reporters descended upon your new home, eager to get an interview with Walter Park's hero. To garner some peace, you had agreed when Iruma and Clara asked (begged) to let him spend some time at the Valc's home, which was apparently deep within a forest only their family could navigate.

As much as you hated the idea of allowing Iruma out of your sight after the events of Walter park, you hoped time with his closest friends would be good for the boy. And as chaotic as Clara was, the way she talked about her own mom gave you the feeling she'd keep an eye on the trio.

But you also made Iruma swear he'd keep his phone charged and on him at all times. You also may have texted him frequently to assure he was keeping that promise.

But that was keeping Sullivan from calling him just as frequently.

To keep yourself distracted, you had poured yourself into the study of Runes. You hadn't seen any books about them in the school's library, which alone had piqued your interest. A whole division of magic not in the library of a school created to teach magic?

Why?

//Demons don't have much use for Runes when other magic is just as powerful and far easier to use// Balam had explained when you had asked him via text.

With the semester over, you hadn't seen him since Walter Park.

And, well…

-+-

For the first time in a long time, you didn't wake tangled in covers and thick feathery pillows. Instead, strong arms were wrapped around you, your pillow a chest that was somehow firm yet soft.

And large, forest-green wings shielded both you and Balam from the outside world.

He couldn't have been very comfortable, sitting cross-legged on the bed, shoulders hunched forward as he cradled you, his head hung low and unsupported as he slept. Yet at the same time, he looked peaceful, his breathing slow and rhythmic.

It gave you a real chance to study his face without the mask. There was no missing the fact half of his lips had been torn away, leaving behind exposed fangs and a large, discolored scar. Logically, you knew he likely hid it behind a mask because it likely bothered others, maybe even frightened them.

Yet… you were neither bothered nor scared. You… still found him handsome. What that said about you, you weren't exactly sure, but in the odd mindspace of waking up in someone's arms you were able to admit it to yourself without much hesitancy.

You found Balam Shichiro attractive. His face, the physique of his body, his temperament. His eager thirst for knowledge combined with his desire to share what he knew.

Without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, still awed by how much larger he was than you. His breath was hot and moist against your skin, his non-ruined lip soft and supple before transitioning into twisted scar tissue.

His dark eyelashes shifted against his pale cheeks as he woke. For a moment, he sleepily looked at you, a soft smile forming beneath your fingers.

Then he truly woke up. And panicked.

-+-

Needless to say, things were still a little awkward.

So maybe it was because of that, or because they were such a mystery, but you threw yourself into finding out more about runes.

You could at least acknowledge a part of it was because of what Sullivan had said: "Runes are one the few types of magic that humans can use. After all, it’s how you first summoned me."

Magic. It was your chance at magic. A way to defend yourself, to defend others in this realm fraught with danger.

You had done it before, so you could do it again.

Yet, again, there was the hurdle of the fact demons acknowledged Runes existing, but didn't seem to have any interest in exploring them. Every other branch of magic had enough books and essays on them that it could fill a library itself.

You had found less than a dozen that merely referenced Runes, talked of them as if whomever was reading was already familiar. One lone tome that had complicated patterns like the summoning seal that spoke of using smaller, simpler Runes to create larger spells.

It was like trying to learn to read a language when you were unfamiliar with the alphabet.

"Why do you look so dour, my sugardrop princess?" Sullivan asked one evening. Iruma was absent once again, though this time at a 'Sabbath', or what you knew as a mixer back home. An outing of him and some of his male classmates to meet some ladies of other classes.

"Difficulty with research," You admitted as you sipped at the soup, the name of which escaped you but tasted delicious nonetheless. "I found some books regarding putting Runes in different arrangements, but none explaining the Runes themselves."

Oddly, Sullivan's eyes brightened. "Is that why you've been tearing the Library up once again? Why didn't you say so earlier!"

You flushed slightly. The idea had crossed your mind. However, you weren't exactly the best at asking for help when you felt you should be able to do something yourself. "I… didn't want to impose."

In true Sullivan fashion, he all but launched himself across the table to embrace you in a strong hug. "You'd never be a bother, my sweet little princess! Please, let me teach you! Please!"

--+--

Sullivan was - surprisingly - a decent teacher. He was calm, patient, and able to explain things in a way you could understand when you asked questions.

"Algiz is a simple protection rune," He said as he drew the rune on the blackboard, which looked rather like a 'Y'. "If you don't have time for a more elaborate sigil, it will suffice as a basic shield. But usually it will not withstand more than one attack at a time."

He then drew a rough-looking 'n'. "Uruz will boost your endurance and strength for a short time, depending on how much mana you put into it."

"I don't have any," You reminded him with a frown, pausing in your notes. Since there were apparently no entry-level texts, you were determined to make your own. "That's why we're doing this."

There was a gleam in his eye as he leaned forward. "That's not quite true. Humans do have mana, but it's different from our own. While Demons can direct and shape our mana with a simple thought, humans mana simply is. It cannot be easily molded or transformed like ours."

You waved your arms, more than a little frustrated. If you had mana, but it simply existed, unusable, then why even mention it? "Then how am I supposed to use it?!"

"That, you will need to learn that yourself," Sullivan replied with a smile. "Now! The next rune you should know is Kaunan in case you need to attack!"

--+--

There were books stacked on the large wooden desk in your room, along with an assortment of paper and pens. You carefully traced the simple glyphs and sigils while focusing on the meaning behind them.

Magic was mostly about intent and imagination. And like Sullivan said, he could only teach you the symbols, but was unable to really explain how to use them.

When he had branded you back at Walter Park, it had been his magic that had created the Runes. Though he had also managed to anchor them to your own Mana to keep them working as you had parted ways. Proving you had a fairly decent reservoir of Mana yourself.

So you drew the Runes, over and over while focusing your mind on what you wanted. While there were literal hundreds of different Runes, Sullivan had encouraged you to focus on the three he had shown you. Algriz. Uruz. Kaunan.

You weren't sure how long you had been tracing Algriz over and over. Long enough your mind had begun to wander, recalling the feeling of the Carmine Dragon's giant claws pressing down on you. It had been so heavy, yet at the same time it felt like you were wrapped in something that reinforced every bit of you so it couldn't push you into the dirt.

But despite that strength, you hadn't really felt protected. Protection was…

Was being wrapped in Balam's arms as the dragon unleashed its fiery breath. One arm clutching at your waist, the other cupping the back of your head and pressing you against him. The odd feeling of his magic wrapping around you just as securely.

Or when you had woken the following morning, nestled in his arms.

It was like something snagged beneath your breastbone, a hook catching something within. You were ripped from your thoughts as the Algriz Rune flared, emitting a golden light that wrapped around you. That feeling of being safe and protected somehow radiated with the glow.

With shaky hands, you grabbed the pen and tried to press it against the skin of your other arm. But couldn't even cause a dent to form no matter how hard you pressed.

"I did it… I did it!" You jumped up, excitement rushing through you.

Magic! You had done magic!

Your phone dinged with a message from Balam: //How's studying going?//

So elated from your accomplishment, you didn't even pause before calling him. He sounded rather surprised when he answered, greeting you by name. "Is everything okay?"

"I did magic!" You exclaimed giddily. "I really did it!"

"What? Really?! That's amazing!" He sounded as excited as you felt, making you even more happy. "I'm so glad to hear that!"

"I was practicing the Algriz rune, the one for protection, thinking about how it felt to be protected and poof!" You explained, able to reign in your tongue enough to avoid admitting the entire truth.

"I'm proud! And a bit relieved, to be honest. Especially with the next semester approaching."

His words confused you, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm sure you'll hear more from Lord Sullivan, or at least Iruma after the start. But after a long discussion, Kalego and Lord Sullivan came to an agreement to give the Misfit class some… extra training."

"Oh?" You settled into the chair you enjoyed reading in, a faint frown on your face.

"They're very talented. We had an inkling after Royal one, but that became even more apparent after Walter Park. It would be a disservice to them not to challenge them more to see how skilled they are, and what they're true potential is."

This… was true. For the stories you heard of Walter Park, what you saw yourself, you knew it to be true. Yet Balam's tone left you feeling like there was something else. "You sure Kalego's not just a bit bitter over Royal One still?"

Balam chuckled, though it wasn't as full-bodied as usual. "Maybe a little, but he's also very proud of their accomplishments, even if he won't admit it outloud."

There was a pause of silence. Heavy and almost awkward. "What are you not saying, Balam?" You finally asked.

"I'll be training Sabnock and Asmodeus," He admitted with a sigh. "And, well, what I have in mind will be intense, so I won't have the freetime I did before."

"O-oh." Your good mood completely deflated. Despite the awkwardness that had lingered after Walter Park, you were looking forward to seeing him again on a regular basis.

Even if you hadn't been able to completely squish the ember of a crush that was still smoldering in your heart.

"I still want to see you!" He interjected quickly, "I meant I might not have time for my side projects! And I was also worried about everyone being busy leaving you unprotected! But now you can protect yourself, should something happen, which is such a relief, and I…"

You couldn't help the giggles that bubbled upwards from your chest, along with a warm, fuzzy feeling. "You're such a worry wart."

"You're unbelievably precious to me," He answered, causing your heart to squeeze painfully and your cheeks to flush. "You and Iruma both, but he could at least protect himself, or summon Kalego. I couldn't bear to lose either of you."

You covered your face, even though there was no way for him to see you. No one was there to witness how flushed you were from his words alone.

Surely… surely he didn't mean it in a romantic sense. That was just the silly little crush whispering in your ear. It was just because you and Iruma were human, and he was semon with a thirst for knowledge about your world. Yes, you were friends too, but he had admitted demons didn't exactly have friends like humans.

Thank Devi he couldn't see you right now.

But what could you say to that without being weird? Thank you? You're precious to us too?

Which he was. You knew Iruma was fond of Balam, especially after his tutoring that helped him pass. And you were certainly fond of him, much more than you probably should be.

"Um, anyways," He continued, making you realize how long the silence had lingered. "I'm proud that you're getting the hang of them so quickly. It's not an easy branch of magic, after all. And humans aren't used to using magic. I do wonder what amount of mana you possess. I mean, I was under the assumption humans have none, so this is really fascinating!"

Your anxiety eased as he continued to talk about the arguments he had read for and against humans having magical abilities in any shape or form. You didn't even need to participate as he talked, other than the occasional noise confirming you were still listening, or reassuring that you were.

This crush was going to make things difficult; yet at the same time, you couldn't help but bask in the warm happiness it caused.

--+--

The new semester started and things were extremely slow with the misfits in their assigned extra teaching. The Library was restored to its new glory, easy enough to navigate that many students didn't need much help after the first few weeks. You couldn't practice Runes during work hours, worried others would question why you were practicing magic like a student.

You were bored. You missed seeing Iruma and his class throughout the day. Last semester, the Misfit Class had seemed to live in the library near the end of the semester; which had kept it lively to say the least. You missed making plans for the Library and working with the faculty staff to make your plans a reality too.

You missed seeing Balam at lunch times as well as any free time he had. True to his word, he didn't have as much freedom between his usual classes and his special tutoring. It was only after school when you slipped to the underground classroom he had claimed for his training that you could spend any real time with him, though your conversations were restricted topic-wise.

After all, the last thing you needed was Az and Sabnock to realize your secret too.

“Is this really a normal demon thing?” You whispered as you watched the two teens spare against each other, looking both half dead, and exceedingly stubborn. “Have they really not gone home since you started training?”

“I admit, it’s not quite typical,” Balam answered, his voice rumbling from his chest to your back as you sat between his crossed legs. You were secretly grateful that the Walter Park incident hadn't caused him to change his skinship ways, even if being nestled in his lap made your heart beat quicker. “But, from what I’ve heard from the other tutors, nothing is typical with the Misfits Class anyways. Like iron, they need to be strengthened and refined by intense fire.”

You glanced up at him briefly. “... you know, you’re one of my closest friends, but I have to admit, I’m glad my dad doesn’t share the same teaching methods as you.”

Balam chuckled as his hand rubbed your shoulders, right where the ache was located from constantly hunching over books. You fought back a hiss of pleasure as his thumb carefully dug into a knot. How did he always know where you needed to be massaged?

“Runes and fighting are two very different subjects. You’re essentially learning a new language as well as how to harness your mana. Whereas with these two, I’m trying to refine their inherent skills." He paused, tilting his head slightly. "Speaking of which, how is Iruma doing?”

Everytime Balam had asked the question previously, Asmodus faltered in his sparring against Sabnock. The pink-haired demon's attention instantly would snap to the small table where you and Balam sat, and allow Sabnock an unfair advantage.

You were pretty sure Balam made sure to mention Iruma at least once a day just to see if he could break him of the habit. Though, Balam did genuinely care about Iruma's progress as well, so perhaps you were being unfair.

Today, however, Az didn’t even seem to hear the mention of Iruma, which you mentally praised the young demon for. Even Balam glanced at Asmodus, and beamed when he realized the demon hadn't been distracted.

“Well, he said the other day he needs to figure out what kind of bow he wanted,” You answered. “Not a strong one, or one to protect, but a unique one to fulfill his goal -- whatever that means.”

“Well, the Barbatos family is known for their unique sharp-shooting abilities," Balam hummed, making a shiver down your spine, warmth pooling in your face as well as somewhere else that you tried to ignore. "Not many demons have the patience to become archers - but I’m sure Iruma is well suited to the task.”

“Patient, determined, persevering no matter what’s thrown at him? That sounds like my boy." You smiled fondly, recalling all the times you were near your wits end back on Earth, and he would determinedly help you out. "I never thought I’d see the day when he’d become ambitious as well, but here we are.”

“I am eager to see how the class as a whole does with the upcoming Harvest Festival.”

You smiled fondly, leaning into him a little more. “Me too, I overheard some students talking about it. It'll be fun to actually be a part of something for once.”

Balam froze, internally panicking at your words. So caught up in everything, he hadn’t even thought about the fact were part of Babyls staff and therefore expected to help out during the festival. After all; between managing the collection stations, rescuing students, and dealing with the consequences of the students getting in over their head, they often needed every bit of help they could find.

But you? In the forest? Magicless, powerless, in a forest filled with things that could easily kill a demon - let alone a human?

While Iruma had proven himself that he was anything but weak and powerless, Balam wasn’t confident about your own ability. If anything, he was convinced of the opposite after seeing you so tired after conjuring just a few Runes in a row.

He leaned in close to your ear so the students wouldn't overhear as he quietly asked: “Are you sure that’s a wise idea?”

"I've been assigned to help tally points between the different teams," You replied back just as quietly. "I'll be stuck at the main tent and likely never stepping out." You tilted your head back and reached up to pat his mask reassuringly, though your positions made it slightly awkward. "I'll be safe, I promise."

Balam slumped with a sigh, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close so he could rest his head on yours. "I don't mean to come off as overprotective. I just…"

"You know how… different I am," You finished for him, at ease in his embrace. "And you worry, like a good friend does."

Well, that was sort of true. But he mused if now was a good time to explain that demons didn't quite have 'friends' to worry over, and decided it probably wasn't. After all, he wasn't even certain how to label his feelings, so how could he explain that in concepts you would understand?

--+--

A few weeks later, and the harvest festival was a chaotic mess; one you were happy to stay out of… mostly.

The forest itself was overgrown, with the crowns of the trees so tightly knit together barely any light filtered through, giving it a gloomy foreboding aura. Despite the lack of light, the place was filled with various flora and fauna you had no names for - but knew they would love to kill you given the chance.

Needless to say you were happy to stay in the main tent, working on cataloging everyone's points. It was mundane work, taking the tally sheets that the different stations turned in and updating the student’s records. But it was also vital, making you feel rather included for once.

It was also nice to be around the other staff more, many whom you had only seen in the halls very rarely. Where your desk was situated you were easily able to listen to Suzy and Dali’s commentary, and keep an ear out for updates regarding the Misfit class.

Their remarks on Iruma and Lied familiarizing themselves with the forest didn't surprise you too much. Iruma was rather skilled at surviving in the wild; there had been times he had left the factory for a week or two because his parents had decided gathering wild herbs and mushrooms were more ‘profitable’ than the fishery. So, oddly, you were less anxious about him camping in the foreboding forest than you were about him going to an amusement park for the day.

However, your worries settled on the fact that he and Lied were treating it like a relaxing camping trip, and had ended the first day with absolutely zero points.

You were near-fuming as you looked at the monitor set up near the buffet table, taking a break from the bookwork. You had kept an eye out for his name, and had started to wonder if maybe someone else was keeping his score in fear you would tamper with it, but the monitor confirmed your fears. Day two and they were still at zero points. “I know patience and endurance is a major component,” You growled to yourself more than anything. “But for hell’s sake, Iruma! You can do better than this!”

“He may still catch up,” Balam offered as he appeared beside you, startling you. How could he be so large and move so silently? “There are still a few days left.”

You huffed and crossed your arms. “I know, but still…. Zero? Literally everyone else has at least a few hundred, if not a thousand!”

“True, but only a few have adapted like him and Lied," He pointed out as he picked at the table, looking for things he would be able to eat quickly and discreetly. "Already a fifth of students have withdrawn, and that number will only rise through the night. I think that we could probably see nearly a quarter withdrawing by morning.”

You hadn’t realized it was that many, though you had known the majority of the teachers were out saving students who hadn't been prepared before nightfall made the forest even more deadly. At least most of the Misfits had found a place to camp for the night, safe and secured with each team holding a couple thousand points each.

Well, nearly everyone was settled for the night - except two certain students.

“Az and Sabnock are still going pretty strong, and they already have over fifteen thousand points," You looked up at him and gave him a little conspiratorial smile as you nudged him lightly. "I bet you’re pretty proud.”

The change of topic made Balam smile rather bashfully under his mask, which you could tell just by the expression in his eyes as he looked away, scratching his neck as it turned pink. “A little,” He admitted before his expression changed. “Though, I’m disappointed Asmodeus reverted to using his evil cycle so early. But Sabnock pulled him out just as I instructed. Even if they don’t win, this event will strengthen their skills significantly. Honestly, this is an excellent opportunity to test their skills on the battlefield while still providing a controlled environment.”

He was very proud of his students, and it made you smile as he continued to discuss the pros and cons of the events and his thoughts on his proteges’ progress. And honestly, you could've easily stayed there just sipping at tea while listening to him talk, except you noticed the pile on your make-shift desk was quickly continuing to grow while people came and went.

After a moment, Balam noticed your expression wilting as you stared past him, and looked to see the towering stack. His hand found yours, squeezing lightly to catch your attention. “I’ve kept you long enough, do you need help?”

Your smile returned, though looking more tired than anything. “Nah, it’s the only way I can contribute. Besides, I’m sure they could use your help out there with the students.”

He looked towards the chaos and sighed himself. “You’re right," He paused for a moment before almost shyly offering: "Perhaps we could enjoy some tea together afterwards? Once you're caught up and the chaos has settled?”

You felt your face warm as you nodded, “I’d love that. Maybe somewhere private enough you can eat properly too, okay?”

His smile returned, along with a deep blush. His free hand reached up and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin softly. "That would be wonderful."

--+--

When someone dropped papers on your desk, you didn’t look up anymore. There was no time as you crunched away at the numbers, desperate to get a handle on the pile before morning broke and the students started their hunts once more.

Two more days. Just two more days of this.

However, when the demon delivering the latest batch didn’t move but cleared their throat, you finally looked up. Momonoki smiled, though there seemed something rather… mischievous about it. “How are you doing?”

“Uh, good?" Honestly, you were exhausted - and knew if you were extremely lucky, you might get a few hours of sleep before the morning came. But, you were more curious about why Momonoki was making conversation when you barely had said more than a word to the other teacher since you started. “Uh, how about yourself?”

“Oh, you know, same old, same old,” She waved before leaning closer, her smile growing even larger. “So, I heard a rumor from Raim that Lord Sullivan confirmed you and Balam are courting.”

Courting? Your mind blanked for a moment before frantically making the realization of what she was implying. Courting. Dating.

You and Balam. Dating.

"W-what?" You spluttered, your face becoming red-hot. "C-courting?"

"It's so cute!" She squeed, pressing her hands to her heart before her smile fell slightly. "Granted, Balam is quite… odd. Okay, he's very odd, but still! A forbidden romance in the halls of Babyls!" She sighed almost dreamily, lost in her own inner world and oblivious to your growing plight. "The mysterious unranked daughter of the Great Lord Sullivan, returning with an unclaimed child to her father's home! And then the fearsome White Gargoyle of Babyls, who finally found someone to look past his flaws for the demon beneath. And then trying to keep their love hidden from society because they know how much everyone would disapprove of such a match! It's a love story fit for a novel!"

You couldn't even think of a response, just stare blankly as her words sunk in, your mind trying to reconcile her words with reality.

A forbidden romance. Unclaimed child. Disapproving society. Secret love.

You.

Balam.

Momonoki took your stunned silence for something radically different as she winked, a finger pressed to her lips. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me! As long as you share the juicy details later, you lucky devil!"

You gaped as she left, still giggling to herself as she returned to the forest.

Courting. Balam.

Yes, you could admit you had a crush on him. And that he was very attractive (and you were kinda miffed Momonoki implied otherwise).

But you had tempered the emotion - suppressing it. You were intent to be happy as just friends. After all, there was no way he would be romantically interested in you! Not when he sometimes acted like you were some rare exotic creature he was studying.

And now there are rumors going around? Perpetuated by your own adopted family?!

You just wanted to find a hole and hide. The rumors were going to go around the school like wildfire; and how were you going to face him - or anyone - after that?

You grabbed your phone, work be damned as you started typing angrily.

--+--

//Why do people think I'M COURTING BALAM?! What does that even mean?!//

Lord Sullivan chuckled to himself. He had been wondering how long it would take the rumor to reach you. It probably wasn't right for him to spread the gossip he had heard amongst the students. But when he had met with the tutors of the Misfits --barring Balam who had his own duties-- well, he couldn't resist when they posed questions about his 'unknown' daughter.

They all had wanted to know what kind of demon could raise a child like Iruma. And well, he had to cover both of your identities without raising too much suspicion. And what was a better way then to distract them with a little juicy gossip?

//To be fair, my dear, the rumor has been circulating since the beginning of the semester// He started, remembering hearing the details from Ronovoe Rosevelt himself. While he could hardly see any of it being true, it had given him a similar idea to the revised version that spread through the school.

You and Balam would make a very cute couple. And Balam could certainly keep you safe. //But I might have accidentally talked about how happy I would be if you and Balam were courting. You two are just so adorable together. Opera and Raim even agreed with me!//

That was a brief summary. He didn't need to include the pictures he had taken of when you were engrossed in a conversation, or when he sighted you and Balam together. How Raim excitedly started jumping to conclusions that he didn't bother correcting.

//what? WHAT?? THAT ANSWERS NOTHING! Dad!//

//oh ho ho, my beautiful princess! Don't worry so much!//

Soon, Opera's phone chimed, making both demons pause in their stroll back to the school. Sullivan easily peered over the security demon's shoulder, confirming his suspicions.

//OPERA! How serious is courting?//

Opera barely paused before quickly typing back: //I have an important matter to attend. If you have questions about courting, I suggest you ask Balam >;3//

Lord Sullivan chuckled as Opera sent the message with a straight face before pocketing the phone. "It seems Raim' and Momonoki's love for gossip is stronger than we realized."

"How do you think he'll react once he hears?" Sullivan asked, and Opera tilted their head as they thought.

"Hmmm, it depends on whether he's realized things yet, or if he’s been as oblivious as she has. Either way, it'll be quite amusing."

--+--

Just outside the main tent, you held back a scream as you read Opera's response.

Those two were in on this. They really did start the rumors!

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma --+--

"These two had better be lying about Professor Balam," Asmodeus growled to Sabnock, his eyes narrowed at the Doro-Doro Brothers ahead of them.

"Oh?" Sabnock wasn't paying complete attention to his partner, and instead keeping a keen eye out for more high-ranking ingredients. He was still determined not only to show-up the two demons ahead of them, but when the festival itself.

"If he really is a womanizer and breaks Iru-mama -- I mean Ms Suzuki's-- heart, I will find a way to break him." Even if it meant enlisting the help of his own mother - Az swore he would do it. Not only were you Iruma's mother, but you were a respectable demon in your own right, showing the same traits he adored in your son.

To think that their instructor that he had respected had such a side hidden from them. Yes, demons had many sides to them, but this was nearly unbelievable.

Sabnock paused once he finally processed Az's words. "Wait, do you think those two are actually together?"

Az scoffed, "Have you not been paying attention when she visits?" He certainly had, and to him it was impossible to miss how their teacher's attention shifted from being focused on working them to the bone to being completely enraptured by you as soon as you entered the room.

Or how you brightened as soon as you saw the giant demon. Yes, you waved to him and Sabnock in their training, showing that compassion so rare in a demon, but a blind person could see who had your true attention.

"They're both odd," Sabnock excused with a shrug, apparently not as convinced. "Between the professor's skinship and Ms. Suzuki's 'mother hen' nature or whatever - plus they're both nerds about imaginary creatures. Who can really tell with those two?"

There was no denying both adults had their oddities that set them apart from the rest of Babyls' faculty. But… "I am unfortunately very familiar with the signs of infatuation." And you both had them in droves.

"So you believe the rumors from Walter Park?"

It was Az's turn to be confused. "Rumors?"

Sabnock grinned as he imparted his knowledge to the other student, if only to see Az pale before turning a deeper pink than his hair. Though from anger or embarrassment, Sabnock wasn't sure.

Either way, their teacher was likely going to have an awkward conversation after the festival. Especially when the rest of the Misfits discovered the rumor.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #balam shichiro #balam/reader #suzuki iruma #lord sullivan #kalego naberious #opera #balam shichiro x reader

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nhaneh · 7 months ago

Text

I think a lot sometimes about the pushback against the concept of talent within arts and I mean yeah on some level I get it, but also the suggestion that anyone can learn to draw is, to me, like saying anyone can learn to program.

like yes, sure, at the end of the day just about anyone can likely find some way of forming vague scribbles using their tool or input peripheral of choice, but that's basically like saying just about anyone can find ways of writing semicolons and the words if, then, else on some kind of digital computer - the difficulty was never in achieving the most basic and abstracted interpretation of the act, but in an understanding of how your actions translate into the kind of end result that you want.

in programming, the most basic starter program that nearly every extremely basic example or tutorial will start with is called Hello World, which is simply a program that prints or otherwise displays the text Hello World to the user.

#include <iostream>

in python, this can be done with a single line of code, like so:

print("Hello World!")

while in C++, that same program will take a bit more work:

#include <iostream>

int main()

{

std::cout << "Hello World!\n";

return 0;

}

Now if you have the ability to copy that text into a file then congratulations, you have the ability to write a program! But, obviously, to really do any actual programming, you kind of need to know what any of the above actually means and what it makes the computer actually do.

This by the way is why the "Learn to Code" kind of initiatives tend not to work out very well, because while technically anyone can write code, actually understanding how to code is a much more complicated affair that can't necessarily be directly taught - it's something that has to be understood.

What is needed, basically, is a system - a kind of mental library of symbols and concepts that you can rearrange and reassemble in various ways to reach a particular solution; a point where you can break down a larger problem into a bunch of much smaller, more individualised problems that are easier to solve one by one.

This is basically how expertise works - whether consciously or (much more often!) not, you form models and systems in your head to let you simplify and, to an extent, automate otherwise complex tasks. If you've ever looked at something and just felt this feeling of "aha, I see how this works", then you should technically already know what I'm talking about.

And look, this is not an argument against practice - expertise takes work, it takes training and experience and gradually discovering ways in which things start making sense to you, even those things that you might have an intuitive knack for. However, what I do think is that telling people who say they can't draw to "just draw anyway" is a lot like, and just as dismissive as, "Learn to Code" because, just like how saying "I don't know how to code" generally is not meant to be understood as "I am physically unable to write words into a text document", saying "I can't draw" typically does not mean being physically unable to form lines or shapes on paper or in a digital image or whatever. Rather, it's a statement about being unable to break down the problem of how to reach a desired end result into smaller, manageable steps that you are able to grasp. And, much like with programming, not everyone will have an eye, or a mind, for it: just like some people struggle with spelling or mathematics or, indeed, code, some people also struggle with colour or perspective or object shape or lighting and shading. And, by contrast, for some people these things also come much more easily and naturally than others.

Not everyone can do everything - at least not to such an extent that it would let them do something they would want to do. Practice can help, certainly, but it's not necessarily guaranteed to bridge the gap either. I mean, I personally find it baffling how many people seem to struggle with what I consider basic computer literacy, but that's a lot to do with the fact that I just happen to find much of it pretty simple and straightforward where a lot of people don't. Not everyone has a base aptitude to build on for every field or skill, and that's both fine and normal. And I mean - something as simple as the ability to put in the effort to practice and learn a particular skill or expertise is in itself a skill, and one that can be very selective about what contexts it's willing to apply to.

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tavyliasin · 7 months ago

Text

The Scent of Cinnamon 1 - Cactus Redactus Version

This is a bit of a fun idea as well as a challenge - rewriting the Scent of Cinnamon (Raphael x Haarlep Prequel) into a mostly SFW piece for someone who was interested by the story but not comfortable with the sexy bits~ (Cactus is how we often refer to this wonderful individual, hence "Cactus Redactus") So we are trading sex for food and cuddles in mixed metaphors that might not always make sense, and some rather large chunks of redacted material. I'll make all changed words and lines green in colour and use [redacted] to show where lines have been fully censored. I've been working this in a google doc for them to read by highlighting redacted segments with the same colour as the text to hide it like censorship bars which I sadly can't do here! Anyway, please enjoy the retelling of this fic, which you can find here:

I'll make a masterlist for this silly edit version once I've transferred them all over here (I don't have the energy to do more than one tonight, sorry!) FULL CH1 below the cut!

Chapter 1 - The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

Fine leather boots paced across stone floors, the click of heels echoing around the halls of the largely empty mansion that floated through Avernus. It was a start. A place of his own, somewhere to work with his own contracts and plans. The owner of the boots was a cambion, son of Mephistopheles, and already a powerful fiend in his own right. Raphael, if you were to ask a mortal, looked like a human in his mid 20s. Chestnut hair was swept back neatly from his brow, the ends curling a little just below his shoulders. His brown eyes were deep set but sparkled with ideas, face clean shaven and expression darkening by the moment. Had he taken his other form, huge red wings would stretch above him, a long tail slapping the floor in irritation behind him, and soft brown eyes would instead blaze with hellfire. His whole form would be larger, and his skin would be a deep crimson, ridges across his well defined muscles more reminiscent of his demonic heritage than the human half. However, it was often easier to remain in the guise of a human man. Aside from not having to deal with the physical logistics of wings, horns, and a tail, potential clients found him to be more trustworthy, and the reveal of his demonic guise was often another powerful tool of intimidation and persuasion. Occasionally, some found him to be seductive, but he tired of trying to please people he had no interest in. There were no fiends in all the hells he could trust to be intimate with, and mortals were so terribly boring, weak, and short-lived. No, they were far better as tools, pawns in his grander designs, so naked cuddling was a last resort to seal a particularly irritating deal.

This might have been seen as unusual in the hells, for any fiend to have no attraction or desire to act upon their need for cuddles, but Raphael did not care. He could hug himself should the need arise, and it was safer not to let anyone in to his abode. Not until he had built up his loyal following.

Unfortunately, so far he only had a couple of apprenticed Warlocks, and one or two debtors scrubbing his floors. And now he had to greet a stranger. The letter had specified a “gift”. Knowing Mephistopheles, this would not be the kind of gift that came with a single catch, but more an entire shoal of red herrings to sift through to find which specific catch he needed to be concerned about.

—

A young fiend stood before a glimmering doorway, uncertain of when precisely they were meant to cross the threshold. They were dressed in a black silk outfit that gave them an appearance of masculine androgyny. Dark tan skin and bright green eyes might have looked human, if it weren’t for the 4 short horns protruding from their brow, slightly parting black hair that cascaded down their back and over their shoulders almost blending with the silks they wore. The other tells of their demonic nature were more obvious, however. Huge wings with blackened edges, claws at the tip, coloured in sunset hues of red and gold stretched out behind them, quivering with nervous anticipation. A long tail with an arrow-tip end pawed at the ground behind them, kicking up a little infernal ash. All they carried was the clothing they wore and the instructions they had been given. A simple enough task, and they were hardly inexperienced, but their first meetings were usually within a dream. Subtly watching their target, learning their desires and their fears, finding every cheeky secret they hid in their subconscious before they would ever appear before them physically.

They sighed. They didn’t even have a name to bring with them. Whatever it was had been taken, a simple exchange for a promised reward. “Let him name you,” the instructions had been clear, “let him do as he wishes. Get close, learn all you can, and deliver it back to me. You are no fool, incubus, and neither is he. But play the game well, and you will have the life of your dreams in the end. A home all of your own, whatever meals you desire delivered to your door, complete power over the domain I shall grant you.” It was tempting. It would be tempting to any incubus or succubus. They also couldn’t deny a small amount of pride at having been chosen. It sounded like the advances of succubi had already been rejected, so they relished the thought of a challenge. Besides, the son of Mephistopheles was hardly without any power of his own. They took a deep breath, steeling their nerves before they stepped through the portal. —

Raphael sat back on his chair, tilting it so the front legs were no longer on the floor, boots on the edge of his desk as he read through pages of another contract. Etiquette might demand he stand to greet the arrival, due any moment now, but Raphael was not one to heed any demands but his own. He didn’t look up when the familiar electricity of the magic swirled in the air, nor did he pay attention to the polite cough from the guest. “You’re late.” He lied, thumbing through the pages and moving one to the front, still not looking up from the paper. “And you’re human.” The visitor stated, all too bluntly for Raphael’s liking. “I was told to expect a cambion, Raphael. Does the master of the house not see fit to handle his own household?” The cambion bristled. His brow darkened a little, though only one watching very closely would notice the subtle change. “You would do well to remember at least a modicum of respect when addressing your new master, regardless what form he might appear in. Are all gifts supposed to be so rude when accepting hospitality?”

“Hah! What hospitality? There’s barely a thing here, and I am barefoot upon your floor. Gift, indeed, that you do not even look upon me let alone deign to unwrap me.” They were becoming no more humble. If anything, they were becoming more bold by the moment. The attitude was finally reaching Raphael’s limit. He looked up from the papers to see who would have the audacity to address him so. For a moment, his thumb slipped, one of the pages almost dropping from the stack as he took in the tall and slender form of the nameless incubus. He quickly regained his composure, but not before they had noticed. The cambion put his feet on the floor and straightened up the papers, putting them in a neat stack on the table. He stood, walking towards the invited invader in his home, stalking around them to observe and assess them. “I’m not a piece of meat, Raphael.” They stood still nonetheless, allowing him to pace and take in all of their form. They flexed their wings and tail to put on more of a show. “Do you like what you see?~”

“Passable.” The cambion grunted, the highest praise he had given any attempt yet. “And good you finally recognise your master’s name. So, why are you here?” “You know that much. Your dear father sent me. You are well aware that many of your kind take ours as advisors, partners in cuddles, or allies for whatever purposes you might have for our abilities. ” The incubus grinned, the hint of slightly sharpened teeth glinting in the light as they looked down on the smaller human form of their supposed master. “You’re a spy.” Raphael said simply. “Obviously.” They replied, pleased that they were not being expected to work for a complete fool. “Do you wish to refuse me? Send me back?” “Honesty is a commodity that few of your kind trade in. You may stay. However, ground rules must be set.” He turned to walk away, beckoning for them to follow. “Come.”

“Leaving already?” The incubus laughed. “I thought we would talk more than that, Raphael.” The cambion bristled at his name being used so casually, but remembered a key point. “Name. What is it?” “I don’t have one, not until you choose one for me. Spiteful of your father to take my identity, but at least I kept my good looks.” The incubus brushed off the lingering insult of what they’d had to trade for the opportunity. It would be worth it, eventually. “Then I should know you first, incubus. I shall choose a name befitting your station.” He continued to lead the way through the halls, keeping a few steps ahead of the honest spy who was taking note of every crack in the walls.

— The incubus watched Raphael carefully. Every movement, every time his gait shifted to avoid stepping on a looser stone. Their bare feet felt uncomfortable on the floor, but it mattered little. They noticed the silence in the halls, only one terrified half elf dressed in rags scurried away as they passed by, busying themselves cleaning some furniture in a side room. There was a lingering scent of cherry that drifted from the cambion ahead, though that was the only note of perfume they detected. Somehow, something so simple hardly seemed fitting. The door to the bedchamber was large, heavy, and sealed with a magical lock. A simple spell had it opening before the master of the house, who gestured for them to enter. “There, take a seat.” He indicated a pair of chairs near the balcony on the far side of a huge four poster bed, heavy red velvet drapes skirting the floor, a deep contrast against ebony silk sheets. They ignored the suggestion of the chairs entirely, and instead took a seat on the edge of the bed, their tail snaking out behind them to smooth over the sheets. “Not bad, I’ve slept on softer.” “That is not for your benefit.” Raphael stood a little taller, crossing his arms and glaring invisible flames towards defiant green eyes.

“Then for yours? You are aware of my nature as an incubus, if you are to indulge in my many hugs, I am not one to cuddle.” They watched his reaction, wings folding carefully inwards to soften the challenge of the statement. “We shall see. I have yet to decide on that matter.” The incubus smirked at that reply, it was not a no. Raphael continued regardless. “What are your abilities ?” “Aside from near infinite warm hugs? I can take the form of any who have made a contract with me.” They shifted now with a spell, appearing first as an elven woman with flowing ginger hair and freckles across her cheeks. The next moment the magical fire enveloped them they became a dwarven man with a long braided beard and dark eyes below a heavy set brow. The third form they took was a dragonborn with sparkling iridescent scales. “This one was a particular favourite, a beautiful rarity. So I may become anyone you wish me to be, so long as I have hugged them.”

“Any form? Including another fiend?” Raphael arched an eyebrow, fingertip tapping against his jaw as he considered the options. “Another devil taken your fancy?” The incubus laughed, remaining in the guise of the dragonborn for now. “Of my many forms I have not added a fiend, yet …but were I to take yours, there would be some benefits.” “Benefits? It seems more like a remarkably unpleasant experience from start to finish.” Despite his words, he appeared to be waiting to hear more. “Any time I take on the body of someone I have hugged,” they ran a claw down their chest, hand drifting across their arms momentarily, “they feel it when their form is used. Echoes of snuggling even across planes, though more intense the closer they are. If they were in the room right now, they would feel the sensation of their own hand on their body.”

“So, enhanced hugs, and a disguise?” Raphael took a longer moment to consider it. “I can see a use for this, incubus.” “Wait, you actually wish to deal with me yourself?” Their bravado finally slipped away in surprise, transforming back to their original body. “You would give me access to your form, control over your platonic intimacy?”

“Must you be so vulgar about it? This could work to our advantage. Depending…” Raphael stepped forwards. “Tell me, spy, what were you offered?” “Simple. My own domain, power over it, and whatever delicious dinners I wish to devour.” They held his gaze, even as he blocked the light behind him. “I enjoy cuddling as much as I am sustained by it as my meal. I have known hunger, Raphael, and I have known powerlessness. I have no desire to become intimate with either again.” “So you want power, snuggles, and a range of flavours to sample? That is as cheap as you are to trade your identity, your entire being, devoting centuries to espionage for such pittance?” He was treading a line in his voice between anger and disappointment. The incubus’s tail began to flick with annoyance.

“There was hardly anything to trade. What’s in a name, anyway? And a few centuries in the span of immortality, that’s nothing . An easy job, made all the simpler by the particular subject. You don’t even object to my presence or motivations… What do you desire, Raphael?” They prodded back with their question, working out how the pieces would fit together.“Perhaps not so different, incubus. Power would be a simplification, but an accurate one. First I will expand my influence here, then across the rest of Avernus.” He raised his hand, infernal fire wrapping around him in an instant, transforming him into his more devilish physique. His horns curved above him, crowning his chestnut hair, wings spreading like a wide and regal cloak behind him in the same deep red as his skin. He had grown taller, marginally more muscular, and his own tail swished behind him. Fiery eyes regarded his guest with a new intensity. “Quite simply, I shall become an Archduke. The Archduke. The nine hells are full of infighting and imbeciles, one hand should have a tight grip upon them all. And that hand will be mine.”

The incubus watched the display with interest, contemplating their options. “You’re very sure of yourself, perhaps I should call you Archduke already if that is your goal. Consider it forward payment, if you are to rise to such lofty heights. Are you certain you should be telling your father’s spy all of your plans?”

“That man would be far more than ignorant to not believe that this is my exact aim. I would imagine he would be thoroughly disappointed if his progeny lacked any ambition. You’re welcome to report that back to him if you so wish, but it has as much merit as telling him that rain makes things wet.” Raphael considered the rest of the statement, clawed finger rubbing along the line of his jaw. “As for the title… No. Not until I have what I want. Although names have power in themselves, and we do not yet have one for you.” “Whatever identity I had is gone, all that remains is my body, and even that is more changeable than the weather in the material realm. So call me whatever you like, Archduke , it matters little.” They smirked at seeing him bristle at the nickname, the implied insult. “Then you are willing to consider my deal? There are plenty of… benefits to a cuddle with me~”

“You have been ill-informed to believe me easy to hug. I will not lay with any harlot to stroll into my arms.” It was the incubus’s turn to darken their expression, voice gaining the edge of a growl. “Oh I am well aware of your type, Archduke . Aren’t you tired of primming and posing? Of all this air of I’m so much better than you, listen to me, do this, do that, puny lesser beings .” They stood, rising to their full height, standing just a little taller than Raphael even though he had transformed. The tips of the cambion’s horns were higher, but their eyes were above his. The realisation widened their sinister smile. “You do not need to be above everyone all the time, that is why you didn’t turn me away when I told you I will not snuggle beneath you.”

“You think yourself more powerful, do you? Need I remind you that I am the Master of this house, I own you, incubus, you are a gift in a pretty bow.” He stood firm, unswayed as they moved closer, the strong scent of cinnamon drifting from their warm-toned skin. “You feel nothing, even now?” Their bright green eyes glowed more intensely in the face of Raphael’s insults, paying his venom no mind. Their tail began to touch his lower arm as they stepped even closer, faces just inches away. “You do not, do you…but you feel that .” —

Raphael certainly felt something. Irritation, the searing tip of white hot rage pressing forward like a knife at the front of his mind, and…curiosity. How could he not be curious about a fiend who dared to be so brazen with him? To stand before him without bowing even once, never offering a single thing to gain his favour. They were speaking to him as an equal - that should have been an immense insult, and yet… “You should have more care about where you touch, harlot. ” The offensive nickname slipped quickly from his lips, just as his tail slapped away the one that had been threatening to tug him off balance. “I have given you no such permission.” “Then if you gave me permission, you would allow it? Very interesting, Archduke . Let me ask you this, if I may?” They kept from touching him again, for now, instead observing his features closer with a piercing gaze. “Ask. There is little point in asking to ask, aside from wasting my time.” He remained unmoved, tail betraying a hint of his irritation still. “Your clients, the mortals you deal with. They desire your affection, do they not? You are a handsome devil, in either of your forms. Your human guise perhaps more cuddly to some than your true fiendish self, but I see the appeal in both.” They smiled more sweetly, bringing a hand towards his face, never touching but tracing a line above his cheekbone, his jawline… A mockery of a lover’s caress.

“I am not here to be eye candy to you.” He sneered, faint lines in his face appearing with the expression. “Affection is merely another card in my deck, mortal beings are too easy to manipulate with hugs. Something I am sure a harlot would be more than aware of. You do not need me to point that out.” “Quite so,” they continued their touchless caress down his neck, along his shoulder, and close to the top edge of his wing. “But I would be more than willing to fill your pointy boots in that regard~”

“I see you do have at least a modicum of sense between your filthy ideas.” He summoned a scroll to his hand, a quill pen appearing in the other, tip glowing with infernal magic. “Rules, incubus, and they will be followed. Without fail. Or I will not hesitate to cast you out of here.” They sighed, hand dropping back to their side from where it had been hovering above the thinner and more sensitive skin of the cambion’s wings. “ Fine, if you insist we shall have it all in writing. You are to ensure I do not go hungry. Either provide me with pizzas to satisfy my hunger, or satisfy me with your own home cooking.”

“Agreed.” Lines appeared upon the page in infernal script, glowing on the parchment with the power they contained. “And you shall not lay so much as a finger upon a client without my permission.” “Then make it simple. This room will be mine as much as it is yours. Those you allow to cross the threshold are by rights my own to hug, should they agree to it.” They smirked, adding to the letters upon the page. “The house is your domain, but in this room I am the only Master.” Raphael’s ego failed to pick up on the edge of their tone as he easily agreed to the term, and moved on to the next. “Then the illusion must be maintained. Once you have my form, you are to wear it until or unless I specify otherwise.” This time the incubus wavered. “You are asking me to give up the last shred of my personhood, to become you?”

“No. You will retain your personality as you see fit. You are to be my mirror in appearance, I cannot have a stray client or debtor seeing through that. They must believe, at least to a degree, that it is me they are cuddling with, and not some brothel-hired -” He paused. His finger traced a few letters in the air, moving them around, reforming his own name into something new. “That’s it. Haarlep . A perfect anagram, the version of Raphael that is closer to the Harlot that you are.” “You scorn me even as you wish to use me to your own ends?” The incubus frowned, though the name…was not entirely objectionable.“The name should be a fitting match for the wearer, should it not? Or do you have a better idea?” He raised an eyebrow, staring directly into the incubus’ eyes.

“I suppose I can become accustomed to it, with time.” They looked at the page, filling with more rules as they talked.

— Some time later the full document was drawn up and signed, befitting Raphael’s side of the deal. Haarlep, as they had reluctantly accepted the name, would require the consummation to finalise things yet. Both cambion and incubus smirked, feeling as if they had outmanoeuvred the other, their own egos clouding their gaze from the space between the lines. Had they looked closer, they might have noticed the finer details they hid from each other between clever words and half-truths…but it mattered little. The signatures marked the parchment in clear and binding text. Haarlep, as they were now named, watched the scroll disappear to whatever archive it would be stored in with a wide smile. “And what is it precisely that you find so amusing?” Raphael’s voice drew their gaze back to his eyes. “Oh, nothing, Archduke.” They leaned just a little closer to his face. His appearance was by no means distasteful, if they were being honest they found his form to be intensely attractive, their imagination already cuddling him as they spoke. “Now, I want you to take a very good look at me. Memorise every pore in my skin, every hair on my head, every little details of me . If I am to give it up, to become you until such time as either we reach our common goal or Mephistopheles decides my work here is done, I would have at least one being remember me properly.”

“I can have a portrait made if you are so particular. And despite your glamour, you will have access to this form should it be permitted.” He pulled back by an almost imperceptible amount, small wrinkles forming on the bridge of his nose. “No.” The incubus spoke with a growing air of authority. “I will burn every part of my image into your mind and body. Every time you close your eyes you will see me, every moment of silence you will hear my true voice in your ear, every moment your own hands touch your body the grip you will feel upon your throat will be mine.” Raphael took an involuntary step back this time. The imposing figure of his supposed gift, the toy he was simply supposed to occupy the hours with, the being that was intended to be used for hugging alone…it felt as if their shadow was about to swallow him whole. Haarlep could see it in his eyes, the way the sweat began to bead on his brow, the breath catching in his throat as they leaned closer again.

They had him cornered like prey, a meal they fully intended to devour, the promise of what the contract could deliver almost as enticing as the low scent of fresh bread rising from the cambion’s kitchens. “You needn’t fear my touch, Raphael. I assure you, this can be a most pleasant experience. You feel it already, do you not? The anticipation rising within you, the warmth of my body moving closer, that sweet cinnamon filling your senses already…” They grinned wickedly. “[Redacted]” “That…would be acceptable.” The usually proud cambion struggled to find the words, his presence shrinking back with the hint of power in the words he had already signed away. “Then you accept my arms? You want to feel the hug of an incubus, to feel the pressure of my affection around your body?” Their wings fluttered in anticipation. “Stop talking already. Your master has granted you permission by the terms of the deal.” “Oh, Raphael, you have forgotten so quickly…in this room, I am the Master now.”

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- --- So anyone who hasn't read the original might be feeling a little perplexed right now, but it might be more fun to read the pieces parallel, or one after the other, to see what changed. The second chapter gets a whole lot more silly with huge redacted sections and a lot more changes that may or may not make sense~

Literally that's how much is redacted in the beginning of the second chapter! But the rest manages to keep enough of the tone, story, and interactions between the pair to still be relatively coherent as a piece~

Until the next part, and when all 4 current chapters are done I'll get the masterpost for links to them too~ Also if anyone knows a way either here or on AO3 to hide text like that, or to change text colours on AO3, please let me know and I'll get it up over there too~

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #haarlep #bg3 raphael #bg3 #fanfic #the scent of cinnamon

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writeforfandoms · 2 years ago

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You’re the hand I have to hold

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Your mysterious contact sends a new dragon and some clues your way.

Everyone thank @brandyllyn for pointing out a golden opportunity here.

Warnings: Swearing, more mysteries, people cannot give straight answers in this ‘verse.

Word count: 1.3k

Jack Daniels x f!reader

The email surprised you in its simplicity, especially considering who it came from.

If your rancher is amenable, I'd like to board a dragon with him for a few days. I will of course pay for the service. Please let me know at your earliest convenience.

You read the email three times before you took a screenshot and sent it to Jack.

His response was fast and simple: What the fuck?

Giving up on trying to figure him out via text, you called instead.

"Who sent that?" Jack asked, grouchy and grumbly.

"My source, the one I told you about." You bit your lip. "He wouldn't have asked if it wasn't legitimate."

"Why should I?" It was little more than a petulant growl, but still made you smile.

"Well, he is helping us," you pointed out, very reasonably. "He's not actually this awful person. Besides, you'd be doing him a favor, so I bet you could leverage that to get more information."

Jack was silent for a few long moments before he blew out a noisy breath. "You make too much sense, darlin'." Already he sounded less grumpy.

"So should I tell him yes?"

"Ask for dates and what he's payin'. I'll decide when I get that info." Jack grumbled a little. "You coming over this weekend?"

"Of course," you agreed. "Nothing could keep me away."

"Good." His smile was clear in his voice. "I'll talk you later, I gotta get back to it before Ginger murders Tequila."

You laughed. "Go on. I'll see you soon." Grinning, you hung up. It took no time to type out a response to your contact, and then you went back to work.

The answer came not even twenty minutes later. The timing was this weekend. And the fee was… a lot. It seemed a bit exorbitant to you, but maybe that was intentional.

Jack okayed it, so you sent along the reply.

This weekend was certainly going to be interesting.

Saturday noon found you and Jack outside awaiting the dragon. Someone (a gruff man) had called you earlier to notify you that he was on his way with the dragon.

"Could be them," Jack murmured, nodding towards the horizon. You could see two specks, slowly growing larger as they approached.

“Why two?” you asked, shading your eyes as you watched the specks.

“Prob’ly has his own dragon,” Jack grunted. “Easier for him to ride his own and drop off this dragon here, so he’s got his own way out.” He shrugged when you looked at him. “Only two ways to transport a dragon, darlin’, and freight on these guys is expensive as adults.”

You chuckled but didn’t ask further. The specks had definitely become dragons, getting closer as you watched.

It wasn’t long until they landed a safe distance away, although the wind from their landing did blow dirt and leaves around. You made a face as you brushed a leaf from your shoulder, starting towards the two dragons.

The rider slid down from the dragon on the right, a huge silver dragon with bits of orange hiding among the scales. The rider wore a brown flight suit, zipped all the way up, and a silver helmet, like a motorcycle helmet. The visor was tinted and pulled down still, giving you no glimpse of the man.

He took a few steps towards you and Jack and then stopped, calmly saying your name. When you blinked and nodded, he pulled a letter from a pocket and held it out to you.

“From the shipper,” he said, not moving and letting you step forward in your own time to take the envelope.

“Thank you.” The envelope had only your name on the front, no other information. “Do you want a drink? Does your dragon need anything?”

The man tilted his head, just a little, and you had the feeling he was watching you, even as Jack came up behind you to place a hand at the small of your back. “Thank you, but no. We’re fine.”

His dragon snorted, lowering her head to sniff at you. A puff of hot air sent a leaf you had missed flying away from you, and you giggled. Raising one hand slowly, you let her sniff your hand and then shove her snout up against your palm, clearly demanding scratches.

“Hello, gorgeous,” you crooned, scratching along her jaw. “You are huge, my goodness. And impressive. What’s your name?” You glanced at the rider.

“Razor Crest.” He sounded surprised. “She doesn’t normally… like people.”

You laughed quietly, stretching up on your toes to scratch her eye ridges. From the side, the other dragon snorted and rumbled, apparently upset at the lack of attention but also smart enough to not get into Razor Crest’s space. “I hear that a lot. And what’s your name?”

He was silent for a few moments, just watching you and his dragon. “Djarin.”

“Well, Djarin, thank you for this.” You smiled and scratched Razor Crest’s eye ridges one more time before you patted her jaw and stepped back. “Safe flights.”

Djarin nodded to you and pulled himself back up onto his dragon, seemingly effortlessly. Which was an impressive display, you had to admit. You and Jack both backed up, going over to the new dragon to give Razor plenty of space to take off.

“And who’s this?” Jack asked, holding out his hand for the green dragon to sniff. The dragon was on the smaller side, though clearly an adult. The dragon pranced forward with only a perfunctory sniff, ready to play.

You opened the letter, reading through it quickly. “This is PJ, apparently.” You slowed your reading, frowning a little.

This is PJ. He’s five - an adult but still young. His previous owner, Poppy, had to get rid of him to make space, as he has turned out to be too rambunctious for her and her staff. He was raised around humans, and is quite comfortable with people.

His registration number is 12104083, alternate number 103974812.

Someone will be by in a few days to take him. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter.

The letter was unsigned, but you didn’t need a signature to know who it was from. But the other information didn’t make sense. You hadn’t expected anything about his former owner, and…

“Sugar?” Jack frowned a little, ducking his head to try to meet your gaze. PJ nudged him, sending him stumbling a step, and he absently patted the dragon’s jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“Dragons don’t have registration numbers,” you mumbled, half to yourself, rereading that sentence. “Or alternate numbers.”

“What?”

You held out the letter to him. “Dragons don’t have registration numbers,” you reiterated. “We all know that. So why is he giving me numbers to reference?”

Jack didn’t respond, busy staring at the paper. His eyes were wide, lips parted just a little. PJ nudged him again, but this time Jack didn’t even reprimand the dragon. Instead he scrambled for his phone, typing in something quickly.

“Jack?” You frowned, watching him.

“Poppy,” he mumbled. “Oh, clever man. Whoever you are, you do not like the Golden Circle, do you?” He was starting to sound excited now.

“What are you talking about?” You shifted your weight, glancing between Jack, the letter, and PJ.

“The Golden Circle is run by a woman named Poppy,” Jack told you quickly. “We’ve known that much for years, but could never get a location on her base. ‘S why she’s still in operation. The numbers here aren’t just numbers. They’re coordinates.” He laughed once, short and sharp, and turned his phone around to show you a spot in the middle of Cambodia. “Your informant just gave us the location of the Golden Circle.”

#dragon rancher jack #dragon rancher 'verse #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #f!reader

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iceicewifey · 1 year ago

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shamelessly copied Sinner /j /lh and did one of those Araki style character sheets for Shay to see if i could share her info easier and I'll say it worked 😳

had to redo the template because I'm stupid and the layout kind of confused me plus I'll never pass up an opportunity to make my own version of whatever thing fjdnfjdgb but I hope it makes sense. alot of the info can be found in her mini bio, but it was still fun to fill this out. plain text under the cut because it's alot to read. thanks again to sinner for both posting theirs and providing the original template ♡

editing because this is so outdated already 😭

Name / Nicknames

Shayleigh Disa Malmsteen / Shay, Spanky (childhood nickname), Dee (from Hol Horse)

Age

23 (SDC)

Sex

CIS Female

Birthday / Zodiac Sign

August 12th, 1965 / Leo

Blood Type

O-

Birthplace

Miami, FL USA

Height

5'4" / 162cm

Weight

~137lbs / 62kg

Sexual Orientation

M-spec

Hair Color

Platinum blonde

Eye Color

Pale icy blue // Pink (Manga)

Eyesight / Colorblindness / Wears Glasses?

Slight myopia Not enough to warrant glasses.

Dominant Hand

Left

Type of Voice

High pitched / "soprano" A bit scratchy from smoking

Medical History

Minor nerve damage from particularly deep scar in right forearm, partially perforated septum (corrected; from cocaine use) Uterine Arteriovenous Malformation — required surgery

Scars / Birthmarks / Tattoos

Numerous scars on hands, arms, torso, shoulders, back, legs, and left eyebrow // Barbed wire tat around right wrist, palm tree on left ankle, devil tail on lower back

Other Defining Physical Features: Nose, Eye Shape, Chest Size, Legs, Moles, etc.

Slightly downturned doe eyes, small slits in eyebrows (left has hair displaced by scars, right is shaved to match). Larger than average chest (~E cup)

Race

Caucasian

Religion

N/A

Nationality

American

Ancestral Background

½ Swedish on father's side

Criminal Record / Education

Criminal record is extensive. Dropped out of high school during 11th grade but stopped attending long before then.

Formative Experiences as a Baby or Young Child

Grew up without birth mother (passed away soon after she and her twin sister were born), Father worked as motorcycle mechanic and would frequently bring his daughters to work; fostered her love of motorcycles at a young age. Dealt with abusive stepmother for ~7 years.

Sexual History / Lovers

Several boyfriends & a girlfriend during high school years, numerous ‘flings’ throughout mid 80’s. Not on good terms with any exes.

Thoughts Towards Romance / Marriage

Says she’s indifferent. Would like to get married, but wants it to be with “the right person.” Has trauma from parents about relationships.

People the Subject Looks Up To / Idolizes

Evel Knievel, Lemmy Kilmister

People the Subject Hates

Her father. Stepmother, Lydia. Stepbrother, Adam. Half brother, Viggo. Estefania, Jotaro Kujo, Polnareff, Nukesaku

Personality Traits / Habits / Fav. Sayings

Tends to hide her true emotions, acts apathetic. Cautious around new people, especially if they know who she is and she doesn’t recognize them. Her defense mechanism tends to make it so she comes off as rude or abrasive. // Honestly just enjoys telling people that annoy her to shut up.

Dreams for the Future

Wants to eventually return to Miami. Wants to build her own custom Harley, right down to the paint job. Wants “a buncha badass lookin’ tats” to cover her more prominent body scars.

Fears

Drowning, being strangled, seeing more of her friends die in front of her, upsetting DIO and having to face his wrath.

Most Traumatic Experiences

The years of emotional and verbal abuse from her stepmother and stepbrother. Her first night in jail. Witnessing the deaths of some of her closest friends at the hands of the gang they once belonged to.

Relationships - Incl. Behavior

Neneh is the first best friend she’s ever had; loves her dearly and would kill for her if she asked. Misses her dearly while in Cairo. Gets along well with other Terence T. D’Arby, Kenny G., Enya, and most other mansion residents. On DIO’s better side. Romantically involved with Vanilla Ice.

Familial Relationships - Incl. Behavior

Hasn’t seen her sister since 17, misses her. Got along very well with Swedish grandparents, used to visit every Christmas as a child; visits slowed and eventually stopped upon her father remarrying. Positive relationships with maternal aunt, Caroline and her daughter, Rita. Gets along well with ‘pseudo father’, Ozzy, misses him while in Cairo. The gloves she wears to hide her scarred hands were a gift from him.

Problematic Relationships

Relationship with father was good as a young child but has deteriorated. Misses how he used to be, hurt that he chose a new partner over his daughters. Never had positive relationships with stepmother or stepbrother. Never really got along with former “boss”, Estefania despite trying. Feels no remorse for her death. Her murder is the reason she ends up in Cairo.

Education / Work History

John F. Kennedy Middle School (Miami, FL) Elizabeth Cobb Middle School (Tallahassee, FL) Lincoln High School (dropped out; Tallahassee) Has never been formally employed or had a ‘legal’ job.

Economic Class

Grew up middle class, struggled with money after being kicked out.

Pets / Plants

Never had pets. Had a monstera clipping that grew in the motel room she lived in.

Personality

STUBBORN. Hates being told what to do and will often do the opposite. Tends to clash with authority figures. Has a bit of a sharp tongue, she’s wary of strangers and tends to speak her mind freely, even if what she says isn’t exactly polite. Used to act out rudely for attention from a bad home life but grew out of that phase. Rarely rude to strangers without reason nowadays. Insanely devoted to friends and loved ones, likes going the extra mile to show that she loves and cares for them. Very outgoing, a bubbly ‘people person’ and a bit of a ‘party girl‘. She’s typically laid back and enjoys being surrounded by those she loves. ‘Bitchiness’ is a defense mechanism stemming from trauma; “If I don‘t care, I can’t get hurt.” She’s a spitfire with a feisty side and a terrible temper, never one to back down from a fight and will start one if she’s worked up.

Strengths

Loyal to the end, skilled with knives and using her stand, won’t quit until the task is done or it kills her, can seemingly sense when someone is upset, can pick things up with her feet

Weaknesses

Hedonistic, lower physical strength than muscular male opponents, argumentative, easy to anger, extensive criminal record, bottles feelings Deep down she’s scared and hurt, hiding behind a façade to escape any future pain

Special Skills / Fighting Style(s)

Mostly accustomed to street fighting. Fights dirty; punching, hitting, slapping, kicking, biting, hair pulling, nothing is off limits. Skilled with using switchblades. Likes to use her stand to trip non-stand user and see their confusion when they stumble.

Weapon(s)

Wields twin automatic “stiletto” switchblades, keeps them hidden in her boots

Driver's License / Vehicle of Choice / Driving Language

Obtained learner’s in 1981 and full license in 1983 but had been illegally driving since she was ~14 // Prefers motorcycles over cars. Favorite bike is the 1973 Harley Davidson FL Electra-Glide // Typical Florida Driver™. Has a lead foot and tends to speed. Tends to get a bit aggressive at times and will partake in road rage if provoked.

Hobbies / Recreations

Likes to draw things she thinks are cool; skulls, motorcycles, tigers, devils, playing cards. Tinkering with her bike, watching trash TV, riding motorcycles with friends, swimming, etc. Often upset she can’t do much of this in Cairo

Likes & Dislikes

Likes metal music, leather pants, motorcycles, billiards, chicken shawarma Dislikes formal clothing, being bossed around, running out of hairspray, driving in the rain, prudes

Food / Clothing / Shelter

Had a few outfits (a lot of them shoplifted) and mostly ate instant or microwaveable food while living in a motel paid for with money from ““odd jobs”” // Kept most of the same clothing upon moving to Cairo, despite her style clashing with local culture. Lives and works in DIO’s mansion

Motives / Passions

Self preservation, making “a shit ton of money”, has thought about killing her stepmother in the past but doesn’t want to deal with the consequences

Favorite Color / Locations / People

Dark teal, black, hot pink // South Miami Beach, Aunt Carol’s house // Neneh, Terence, Vanilla, and Enya

Fashion Style

Wears a lot of tight and overly revealing clothing after years of being forced to dress “like a proper girl” as a child. Likes wearing leather and wants to look like the girls in the metal magazines (i.e. Doro Pesch)

Used Substances

Tobacco, alcohol, marijuana (formerly), cocaine (formerly addicted)

Perfume / Cologne?

Used to wear “City Girl” perfume, but prefers scented lotions.

Any Accessories?

Crescent moon earring worn only on her left ear (twin sister wears the other), two hoops on right ear // stud on left side of nose // black leather fingerless gloves to hide scars

Supernatural Abilities / Attuned to Spirits?

Not necessarily sensitive to spirits but sometimes feels what she assumes is her mother’s presence when she sits on the beach alone at night. She can’t explain it, but it’s somewhat comforting and tends to happen when she’s stressed or upset.

Accent / Dialect

Miami accent; pronounces the ‘L’ in “salmon” // speaks in short form and slang often (i.e. wanna, gonna, ain’t) // drops the ‘g’ on words that end in ‘-ing’ (i.e. swimmin’ )

Anything Else?

Knows how to juggle. Allergic to shellfish. Not a serious reaction but the kind that makes her throat tingle. Used to think it happened to everyone, not just her. ↓ “Everybody’s throat tingles after crab cakes. It’s part of the experience.”

#jjba oc #oc info #oc d. shay #araki character sheet #a lot of my other ocs are mentioned ... it'll make sense when i finally talk about her backstory and explain them i swear #rita and richelle are next #lmk if you want my edited template and i'll add it to my drive <3 #tw abuse mention #tw substance abuse #tw cocaine #tw addiction #tw toxic family #tw murder mention #tw gang mention #tw parent death mention #lemme know if i missed any

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with-love-from-hell · 1 year ago

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The Confession

Wc: ~4k

Genre: Fluff, teeny bits of hurt/comfort, some comedy

Pairing: Barbatos x Chris (@kitsune-oji )

A/N: Thank you for commissioning me for this adorable piece, Oji! If you'd like to commission me for a piece of writing, please visit my Ko-fi for guidelines and pricing!

Chris stared at the text that appeared on his screen. No matter how many times he read the words over, anxiety continued to course through his veins. It was almost as if he was reading another language, or had intercepted a hidden code that had clearly been meant for someone else. And yet, the words reverberated through his head, as if mocking him.

It couldn’t be real…could it..?

Are you interested to know how I feel about you?

No. Barbatos wouldn’t ever text him something like that out of nowhere…and yet…Here the message was, staring him straight in the face.

Why would he ask such a question? Chris had been pining for Barbatos since they began getting to know each other better. The way Barbatos would dot on him made him feel loved, and he found his ability to…well…live to be much easier with the affection of butler. Even before they grew closer though, Chris found his overly formal way of speaking to be quite charming, he admired his prowess in cooking, and had a strong curiosity to know more about the power he held. Outside of that, he definitely was pleasing to look at.

There was no way that Barbatos could have seen plainly through him…right? Chris liked to think he was able to keep his emotions hidden to avoid ultimate disappointment when he experienced some sort of rejection, but then again…Barbatos was very perceptive. So if he was aware of Chris’ feelings…why play this teasing game?

Was it merely to get a laugh- to lead him to think the butler had feelings for him, only to rip any hope away by revealing his trick? So many other experiences in the past played through his head. Usually, they would pass and he could move on from them…but now he analyzed every interaction for some sort of clue. He knew Barbatos to be quite cunning- his intentions never worn quite as plainly on his sleeve like Beelzebub or Satan. His expressions were hard to read, and his texts were even more convoluted. What could this possibly mean?

But no matter how hard the self-deprecating part of his mind tried to convince him it was all in jest, there was a larger, more curious part that urged him to respond.

It was hard to make sense of it all, and if he kept trying to question what his response to the inquiry should be, he would be sat here for centuries before being able to give Barbatos an answer to his question. Biting the inside of his cheek to distract his racing thoughts, he finally sent his reply.

…yes.

He sat on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot nervously. What would he say? Would Barbatos be irritated that he took nearly 10 minutes to respond? Maybe not…he definitely had a soft-spot for Chris, that much he was sure of. But would it even matter if this was all some elaborate prank? He anxiously awaited the reply, finding each passing second to become more unbearable than the last.

Well then, I suppose I will tell you.

Chris’ eyes widened as he saw the typing bubble appear once more. His heart leaped into his throat as he anticipated Barbatos’s next words, thoughts racing a mile per minute as Barbatos sent his follow-up text messages.

Though…I do feel as if this conversation is better held face to face.

Come to the castle this evening, Chris.

I’ll look forward to it.

He wasn’t sure when he lost his ability to take a breath, but when it came back, it felt as if a swarm of butterflies entered his stomach. He tossed his phone aside, bolting out of the room to go find one of the brothers. He needed help deciding what to wear, and how to style his hair. Despite the pounding in his head and restlessness in his veins, Chris knew that the next few hours would surely go by painstakingly slowly.

Barbatos grinned eagerly, setting his phone aside on the kitchen counter. He was pleased that Chris took him up on his offer, knowing full well that the human was probably nervous as can be. While Barbatos was excited to finally confess his feelings to Chris, he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to watch him squirm a bit in the process. Seeing the frail human get so flustered was amusing, and- if he was to give his fully honest opinion- very cute.

He turned to the stove, humming to himself as he set the oven to 325 degrees. There was much to do to prepare for Chris’ impending arrival. So many of the human’s favorite sweets needed to be made, and the perfect blend of tea would have to be selected for such an occasion as well. Should he also go purchase some flowers? Or perhaps some sort of gift? Barbatos’ smile grew as his mind wandered with all the possibilities of how he could woo the human. His movements were quick, a small skip to his step and lightness to his tender dessert crafting. There was so much to do, and with so little time. He needed to act quickly, but ensure there were no silly errors in the most important conversation he would likely have with Chris- at least until there was the possibility of a proposal. He let out a gleeful laugh, fondly remembering back to a few weeks ago where he looked into a timeline where they were betrothed.

Barbatos was so absorbed in his activities that he barely noticed when Diavolo strolled into the kitchen. He observed the butler buzzing around the kitchen with a nervous, yet excitable energy, and found himself curious. He smirked, leaning against the archway

“Hmm? And what seems to have you in such high spirits? I haven’t seen you smile like that in ages…” Diavolo laughed, shaking his head. “…actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so elated. What’s gotten into you, Barbatos?”

He paused, turning to greet the future king. “Oh, Good afternoon, Young Master…I suppose I…” Barbatos blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose that I have maybe gotten a bit carried away…”

Diavolo chuckled, approaching the counter. “Do tell- what is it that you have gotten carried away with?”

“I have decided to tell Chris how I feel about him.” Barbatos mused with an elated smile, beginning to flatten some pastry dough.

“What made you decide now was the best time for that?” Diavolo rested his cheek on his fist, intrigued by the notion. “ I must say- it’s about time. You two have been circling around this for quite awhile now. I thought you both would ignore your feelings forever.”

“While I had an inkling that Chris has some feelings for me, I wanted to ensure I was not misreading any signals. The last thing I desire is to make Chris uncomfortable because I believed his intentions were romantic when they were not.” Barbatos cleared his throat, his blush spreading. “As you know, this is the first time I’ve felt such a strong desire to be with someone…in a romantic sense, that is. And…I…want to make sure I do this right.”

“And what is ‘doing this right?’ “ Diavolo quipped, watching Barbatos delicately cut various shapes into the dough. “I am doubtful that Chris has standards so high that you wouldn’t be able to meet them…even with a simple gesture.”

“Well, I want to appeal to his interests, so I am preparing a tea date for us in the castle gardens.”

Diavolo smirked teasingly. “I must say, I am surprised that you have become so taken with him. It’s not like you to be so nervous about a simple tea date, Barbatos.”

Barbatos blushed deeply, offering a simple shrug in response…though his giddy smile never faded.

Diavolo shook his head with a hearty laugh. “Given what I’ve noticed about Chris, I’d say his feelings are mutual. Regardless of the outcome, I wish you luck, and will ensure you have the privacy you need to make your move.”

Barbatos smiled gratefully, the buzz of excitement returning to his chest. “Thank you, young master.”

Chris paced around the front gates to the castle, trying to work up the courage to walk to the door and alert Barbatos of his arrival. It took 3 rounds of reassurance from Asmodeus to even get him to leave the house, and there were multiple points during his walk over to the castle where he nearly turned around and fled home. The nervousness was nearly eating him alive, and the thoughts of Barbatos’ “true” intentions behind this sudden desire to express how he truly felt about him scared him to no end. Though, despite the intense fear he had of this whole situation being an elaborate ruse, he couldn’t fight the curiosity of what the inner workings of the butler’s mind truly were.

Perhaps this could be a confession of love…though he highly doubted it.

With a deep breath, Chris robotically walked up the stone steps to the castle doors. Before he could even knock, the huge doors flung open, revealing a very excited Diavolo, who was surrounded by little Ds. Chris furrowed his brow in confusion, but before he could ask why Diavolo was the one greeting him instead of the butler, Chris was rushed along the winding hallways. He barely had time to process what was happening until he stood in front of the doors to the royal gardens, curtains drawn closed to hide the flora beyond them. Chris looked uneasily toward the prince, who merely winked in response and quickly fled the area, little Ds in tow.

For a final time, the thought of fleeing the castle wormed its way through his mind. He turned back toward the halls that tempted him back, displaying to him the safe path back home to the brothers. He contemplated it for a moment, wondering if the potential for heartbreak was really worth it. After a deep breath, Chris turned and opened the doors to the garden.

Barbatos’ expression immediately lit up as Chris entered the courtyard. His excitement was barely contained, his demon form manifesting in an instant. The twin tips of his tail curled slightly, and his antlers frayed open in elation at seeing the human. The wide, welcoming smile on his face also did little to hide his jubilation. Behind him was a table set with all of Chris’ favorite sweets and various varieties of sweet herbal teas. A small vase of flowers sat in the center of the table, the colorful assortment of Baby Blue Eyes and Hell Lace Daisies, along with the center Mirage Flower, drew a soft gasp from Chris’s lips.

If this was a prank, Barbatos certainly made a fake love confession look quite convincing.

“Greetings, Chris.” Barbatos bowed to him, gesturing to the golden chairs that were positioned oddly close to each other at the table. “I am very glad you came.”

“Oh…Uhh…” Chris swallowed, fighting the blush that threatened to spread across his pale cheeks. He returned the bow, trying to remember his manners when in the presence of the royals. “It’s a pleasure to see you too.”

Barbatos’ smile grew as Chris sat in the chair the butler hastily pulled out for him. Barbatos quickly sat himself in the other chair, his antlers fluttering slightly. His nerves began to get the better of him, making the swarm of butterflies in his stomach more agrivated. He stared dreamily at Chris, who tried looking anywhere else except for the affectionate, sparkling eyes of the demon in front of him.

The air was tense as the two made nervous small talk about the happenings over their week, and chatted about the selection of desserts Barbatos had prepared for them. A gentle breeze drifted through the courtyard as they nibbled their sweets, dancing around the reason for the meeting in the first place. Every time that Chris spoke, Barbatos seemed to lean forward towards him, hanging onto every one of his words as if it’d be the last time he heard his voice.

Chris bounced his leg nervously as Barbatos intensely stared at him, seemingly watching him squirm as he waited for the demon to bring up text messages. Chris swallowed nervously, wondering if this was all part of Barbatos’ clever trick. Deciding he couldn’t take the anticipation anxiety any longer, Chris cleared his throat.

“So…uh…about that text message..?”

“Ah!” Barbatos jolted his back straight, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Of course! How silly of me to nearly forget.”

Chris raised a brow, curious about Barbatos’ change in demeanor. His normal stoicism was replaced with the fumbling nervousness of a pre-teen on their first date. And still, Chris found himself doubtful that this was the sign that Barbatos was displaying his true feelings. Despite his doubts, though- he couldn’t deny that Barbatos was acting incredibly adorable.

“In regards to my feelings for you…” Barbatos felt heat develop on his cheeks, quickly spreading to the tips of his pointed ears. “I’ve been waiting a long time to disclose this to you, but I admit I was a bit nervous that you didn’t feel the same. Though, the more I’ve observed our interactions, I’ve come to realize that there is a high likelihood that you share in my affections.”

“I…” Chris blinked, unsure of what to say. Something in his heart knew what Barbatos was trying to say, but he wanted him to be more direct- to tell him exactly what his feelings were. “What do you mean..?”

Barbatos cleared his throat, his tail flicking as his nervousness increased. “I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I..?” He pauses, taking a moment to slow his words down. “What I mean to say is that I…I am quite fond of you, Chris…More so than anyone I’ve entertained the company of in quite some time...”

Chris’ jaw fell slightly, his brain trying to fire some sort of message to get him to talk as it processed the words passing through his ears.

“...I would go so far as to say that…I find myself having fallen in love with you.” Barbatos’ cheeks burned as he caught Chris’ eyes. “The closer we’ve gotten, the more certain I’ve become of that fact.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment as Barbatos patiently awaits Chris’ reply. Chris, on the other hand, did not know what to make of Barbatos’ confession at all. For a moment, he waited for the butler to burst into a fit of laughter, revealing that this display of love was all a ruse…but it never came. He merely smiled at him with a rosy, love-drunk expression on his face.

“I…I don’t know what to say…” Chris finally spoke, his face erupting into a deep red blush.

Barbatos let out a soft chuckle. “You needn’t say anything if you don’t wish to…But I must ask…may I...kiss you?”

As if his face couldn’t grow any more red, Chris felt as if his entire body was lit on fire, and he became drenched in perspiration. “Really?! …Uh…I mean…Y-yes…I…I’d like that.”

Barbatos’ tail flicked rapidly in excitement behind him as he leaned forward. He smiled warmly as Chris gulped, the human’s lips trembling slightly as they puckered into his. When their lips finally met, it took a moment for both of them to realize what was happening. It was as if they were both afraid to move at first, but slowly, Barbatos found his comfort in taking the lead. His lips knead firmly against Chris’, but maintain a certain amount of delicateness as they melt into each other. As if acting on instinct, Chris’ arms loop around Barbatos’ neck. One of Barbatos’ hands gently grasps Chris’ waist, while the other caresses his head, teasing the fluffy baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is sweet, at first tasting reminiscent of hibiscus, but behind it hid a more bitter note- one Chris couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t until he felt the sharp pinch of Barbatos’ fangs poking through his lip that the bitter taste overpowered the kiss, flooding his mouth with a flavor similar to that of overly-ripened kale leaves.

Chris sputtered, breaking away from the kiss only moments after they had found their rhythm. The demon was confused at first- that is, until his tongue swiped over his sharp fangs, tasting the faint metallic traces of Chris’ blood and his bitter venom that remained on the otherwise pristine teeth. Barbatos’ eyes widened as Chris began to sway lazily, his balance clearly faltering. He pressed his hands atop his shoulders to stabilize him.

“Chris…Are you alright?” Barbatos panicked, trying desperately to get Chris to look him in the eyes. Within seconds, Chris’ knees buckled, and he fell into Barbatos’s arms. In a panic, Barbatos frantically glanced around the garden, trying to determine the best course of action to take.

Chris awoke in an unfamiliar bedchamber. His head throbbed slightly as his vision became clearer, recognizing the space now as one of the guest bedrooms in the Demon Lord’s castle. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up in the plush bed. He stretched while looking lazily around the room, trying to make sense of how he got here. What had happened..? The last thing he remembered was…

Suddenly Chris’ cheeks were set ablaze. The flash of Barbatos’ inviting smile, his eyes filled with exhilaration, and his demon characteristics indicating his impatience in being able to finally take the opportunity to kiss Chris. He snapped his gaze around the room, trying to see if Barbatos was anywhere in sight. He sighed in relief, seeing the room vacant. At least now he had the opportunity to work himself through his flustered state without his intense green eyes staring straight through him.

Before Chris could even finish his thought, the door to the bedroom slowly creaked open. Through it, Barbatos swiftly entered the room, a plate of tea in one hand, and a moistened towelette in the other. Almost instantly, he locked eyes with Chris, who’s face began to redden more now that the butler had arrived to care for him. Barbatos’ shoulders immediately lost some tension in seeing Chris sitting upright, and the expression on his face showed clear relief.

“Thank goodness- you seem to be feeling better.” Barbatos murmured breathlessly, setting down the plate and quickly pacing to Chris’ side. The butler pressed the towel to Chris’ head, urging him to lay back down. He seemed to ignore his flustered state, maybe chalking it up to the fact that he was clearly somehow unwell, though Chris couldn’t quite remember the details. The only clue he had was that his lips felt swollen and tingly, but he attributed that to maybe being a little too clumsy in the kiss the two shared.

“I did not expect you to wake for a few more hours.” Barbatos sighed, gently brushing his thumb along Chris’ lower lip. “I…I was very worried about you.”

Chris dropped his gaze, fighting against the warmth spreading across his cheeks. “What happened?”

Barbatos glanced deeply into Chris’s eyes, a blush of his own beginning to form across his cheeks. “Well…I must confess that, in all of my nervousness about telling you how I felt, I believe I may have…gotten a little too excited.”

“Huh?” Chris blinked, confused by what he meant.

“Demons have traits that become more difficult to control when under intense emotion, though the only time you may have noticed is during times of anger.” Barbatos explained, offering a small laugh at himself for how ridiculous it sounded saying this out loud. “...But feelings of attraction and joy can produce the same effects…and…it appears that, in all my excitement in being given permission to kiss you, I accidentally bit you, and my fangs secreted some venom that incapacitated you…”

Chris blinked, trying to make sense of what Barbatos was saying. “O-oh?”

“You have my deepest apologies, my love.”

The blush that had finally begun to fizzle away came back tenfold, covering Chris’ features in a ruby blaze. “I…You…W-what did you just call me?!”

Barbatos couldn’t help but smirk. “Are you not fond of pet names? I figured that would be okay considering our conversation yesterday evening.”

Chris swallowed hard, trying to calm the rapid thumping of his heart. “I…No…I l-like it…I guess I’m just…surprised is all. I mean, I didn’t expect you to even really like me all that much…hearing you say you love me…” He trailed off, turning his gaze down. “It’s just sort of…unbelievable.”

Barbato’s smirk fell, concern returning to his features. “What’s so unbelievable about it?”

Chris paused, trying to think of the words to describe his fear of rejection. Instead, he merely shrugged.

It was silent for a moment as Barbatos looked away, trying to process the deeper meaning behind his words. He knew Chris’ fears of intimacy, obviously his mind having been tainted by past negative experiences. He glanced back to Chris, noticing the deep frown on his face.

“You didn’t think I was trying to deceive you with my confession, did you?” Barbatos muttered sadly, moving to grip Chris’ hand to reassure him of his motives. “...Because I wouldn’t even dream of misleading you in such a cruel way.”

Chris smiled weakly. “I mean, I wasn’t sure what to make of it…but I’m…I’m happy you said it, even if it is hard for me to believe.”

Barbatos beamed, pressing a kiss to Chris’ open palm. He smoothed over the area softly, basking in Chris’ loving gaze. After a few seconds though, his cheeky smirk returned, finding another opportunity to tease the easily flustered human. “Well, having how I feel about you out in the open, I believe I am still awaiting your response.”

Chris’ eyes widened. The red tint to his cheeks deepened to a dark crimson as he whipped his gaze away, stuttering out an apology about how he couldn’t believe he didn’t tell Barbatos how he felt after such a heart-warming confession. The demon laughed, pulling Chris into another soft kiss, though this time, he ensured to keep his excitement about the new trajectory of their relationship at bay. After all, he wanted to avoid accidentally piercing the human with his fangs for a second time.

Barbatos laughed, squeezing Chris’ hand happily. “My, it has been quite some time since I looked back on this memory.”

“I can’t believe how adorable you were.” Chris fawned, resting his head on the butler’s shoulder. “You went so far above what I ever expected a love confession to be! It still boggles my mind why you went through so much trouble.”

“Because you’re worth it, my prince.” Barbatos mused, kissing Chris gently on the cheek.

Chris smiled back warmly, but began to pout when Barbatos smirked teasingly back at him. “What..? Why are you looking at me like that..?”

“Oh, don’t pay it any mind, love…it’s nothing, really…I merely miss when you used to get all bothered when I would kiss you.” He chuckled, pressing down a stray hair on Chris’ head as he scowled at him. “It was very cute.”

“Tch...” Chris looked away, a slight heat burning his cheeks despite his best efforts to prevent it.

“Hehe, yes…just like that!” Barbatos giggled, ruffling his hair teasingly.

Chris couldn’t help but smile at Barbatos’ silly laugh, turning and catching his lips in a kiss. “Pick on me all you want, but you still owe me a date to the Night Lantern Village to make up for biting me!”

Now it was Barbatos’ turn to grow flustered. “And I shall take you! I’m just waiting for their next festival so I can make it up to you properly.”

Chris rolled his eyes with a smile, again resting his head on Barbatos’s shoulder. The demon smiled, nuzzling his cheek into the Human’s fluffy brown hair. He tilted the hourglass, rewinding the memory of their first kiss once more.

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