#but I have no formal training and I don't start from a block
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seeingdouble ɘldυobϱniɘɘƨ
KINKTOBER IV: DRUGGED
starring: f!reader, megumi [25+], toji [mid 40s]
synopsis: megumi is led down a dark path by his assassin father. his moral compass askew, lacking any real social experience, he's left to his own devices with a cute girl. thankfully, toji shows up in time to take control.
warnings: murder, violence, spiking, drug use: narcotics + psychedelics. stripper!reader [who sometimes offers sex work]. virgin!megumi. restraints. choking. unprotected sex. incest [pussy sharing, dp, anal] guidance. non-con; reader starts to enjoy it [she is drugged]
wc: 4.5k
⋆⁺/ don't like it? block it / do not interact i do not condone taking drugs. spiking is illegal. this is fiction
18+ EXPLICIT SEX | DARK CONTENT | HORROR THEMES
When Toji’s wife passed he managed to sell off his daughter to the notorious Zenin clan for a pretty penny, but decided to keep the ten shadows boy for himself.
Without his wife, daughter and clan, Toji’s life spiralled out of control and he took Megumi down with him.
Toji left everything behind, so did Megumi.
Toji became invisible, so did Megumi.
He corrupted him and dragged him into a cursed life of killing for money.
Leaving his boy in cheap, dusty hotels, Toji would go out to commit murder– it was as simple as grocery shopping for him, only returning home with his shirt all bloody and ripped. Young Megumi would eye his clothing curiously, his gaze wide and innocent, but would be too scared to utter a word. He knows his father has a terrible temper.
This routine continued until Megumi got older, into his late teens, when Toji thought it would be appropriate to start telling the young man about what he did. Then in his early twenties he started taking him along on his sinister missions, hunting. Lacking any formal education or training, he doubted his son would be of any use.
But Megumi had become intelligent and strong in his solitude, reading for entertainment and experimenting with his powers, his shikigami the only life forms to keep him company.
Despite his independence, having Toji as his only guiding light led the younger man to have a somewhat twisted view on reality, and as far as sound moral judgement goes, he simply does not possess it.
As an assassin, Toji likes a quick kill; clean and efficient, usually with a gun or a knife. He can get paid faster that way, delivering the body swiftly and avoiding any trouble.
But he’s noticed his son taking a liking to finishing his victims more personally.
⁺⋆
Another murderous evening had drawn to a close, their hands stained red once again, when he carelessly took his eyes off his son and their victim.
A young, powerful sorceress who’d seemingly pissed off the wrong crowd. Still, a surprisingly easy target for the assassin in training.
“Megumi, s’time to go,” the older man wipes his knife and cautiously looks along the alleyway.
His son is unresponsive.
Toji gets closer, squinting in the dark to find his hands wrapped around her neck.
She’s still alive, barely, but clinging on nonetheless, fading in and out of consciousness.
“What are you doing? Just– just fucking–”
“Wait”
The younger man’s stern voice halts Toji from slitting her throat.
And he watches his son squeeze the life out of the young woman.
His lips twitch when her eyes roll back. But still, his hand remains over her windpipe, feeling her pulse die when the last breaths escape her body.
“Megumi. We need to go.”
His son finally pulls away, and they become invisible once more.
Despite his grisly methods, not only did Megumi prove useful, but their missions also provided for some much needed father-son bonding time.
So, with his son reaching 25 years old, they got into this gruesome habit together, becoming partners.
Another habit Megumi picked up from the older man was his tendency to visit strip clubs after their kill. They were great places to hide, especially if you knew the owners well enough. And Toji knew each and every member of staff in this place; the managers, the bar staff, the girls.
And he knew a certain pretty little girl very well indeed.
Despite his many visits he never made any inappropriate advances, only paid to watch you dance. Maybe a lap dance every now and again if he was feeling particularly self gratuitous.
You share few words, but seem to have a mutual understanding of one another. You know that he loves watching you, and you’ve come to like his stern demeanour and surprisingly respectful attitude, enjoying his ability to scare off creepy customers. He’s kind of like your personal bodyguard at work. You feel lucky to have met him.
Unlike some of the halfwit scumbags that frequent the club, he’s a real man. From his assertive, deep tones, those muscles, perfect for manhandling little girls like you, and those sharp eyes, staring as if he wants your body as much as you want his.
But you have no idea what he does for work– he almost seems nocturnal.
Then you notice that he starts bringing someone else to the club.
His younger brother? His son? You can’t tell. But you know for certain that they’re related as soon as they step in together– their hair is styled differently, but is the same absolute black. The strobe lighting illuminates different colours in the younger man’s eyes, but they have the same glare. Their faces are a slightly different shape, but they have the same wicked smile.
How could there be two of him? One was already enough.
“Meet my son.”
Oh. He might be the same age as me. You think, studying his features– bags under his eyes, more height than muscle, cheeks slightly sunken.
His exchanges are awkward. He looks uncomfortable.
You offer him a dance, not knowing what else to do. You’re here to work, after all.
Toji pays for a private dance and you walk with his son to a booth, the older man giving him a wink and a devilish smile.
You draw the curtains and pause, looking at the way he’s fidgeting.
“Got a girlfriend?”
“No,” he replies tersely, narrowing his eyes.
You ask if he wants a lap dance, but he’s so hesitant that you just end up sitting next to him and chatting instead.
“So, do you enjoy working here?” he sounds less nervous now he’s gotten to know your name, at least.
“Yeah, nice customers for the most part, but the hours are pretty long.”
“Same with my job– the hours, I mean.”
“You don’t work with the public?”
“Sort of…” he trails off, dark eyes darting over your features.
You notice, despite your clothing revealing most of your body to him, that he’s focusing on your lips more than anything.
“You’re um,” he takes a long pause, dragging his gaze back to your eyes, “very pretty.”
How sweet. Your eyes widen slightly, a smile forming on your lips. You’re not used to sweet.
“Th-thank you.” you can’t help the stuttering– the way he’s looking at you with sudden intensity catches your tongue.
“Shall we–” you reach to open the curtain of the private booth, your arm caught in his strong grip, your body freezing.
“You– you can’t touch me–” does he not know that?
“Sorry” he retracts his hand, fiddling with his fingers.
“You change your mind or something?”
“No, I just wanted to… look at you, for a little longer,” you turn to face him again, “if that’s ok.”
So you nod and sit down.
He has a hungry look in his eyes now– he starts with your face, your eyes, in fact, making incredible, unwavering contact until you can’t take it, your pupils darting away to his amusement. Then he finds your mouth, and the way you’re chewing the inside of your cheek.
Then your neck, where he focuses intently on the slow thrum of your jugular. He licks his lips, making you squirm and wish he would’ve accepted the lap dance.
His gaze darts over the rest of your body and you watch the clock tick over to midnight, signalling fifteen minutes and the end of his private… whatever the fuck this was.
“Time’s up.” You stand and reach for the curtain, feeling his eyes remain over your figure as you step out and waltz back to the changing rooms.
You get off early tonight, having a final smoke with your colleagues when you see a text pop through from Toji. After exchanging numbers months ago, he barely contacts you, only asking where you are if you’re not at your regular shift.
[00:14] Toji
Come over?
You’re surprised he’s asking.
You’re tempted– after all, it is for Toji. You’ve been wanting him to reach out to you, thinking that he would’ve made his move much sooner. Every cell in your body is telling you not to do this, but you ignore the feeling, finding his hotel.
You enter the room– luckily for you, in a slightly nicer establishment than usual– still, one that is filled with the smell of alcohol and cannabis, the TV blaring on some late night gambling channel.
So they sit you down, welcoming you into their little games and bets, offering you hard liquor and joints till you’re tipsy.
After Toji’s multiple visits to your workplace, and seeing you at other clubs with your friends, he knows you’re into all kinds of drugs.
He caught you with white powder under your nose on one occasion, your pupils the size of the fucking moon another night, and with a blunt hanging out your mouth after work one evening.
He’s seen it all. He knows you’re a fiend. So… what’s the harm in pushing you a little further? Surely you can take it.
⁺⋆
Your eyelids are growing heavy, your body slumped on the floor against the coffee table while you stare at the TV in stupor. Their joints were just so packed it's nearly finished you off, and the last few drags tasted kinda funny.
“Can we tie her up now?”
You’re not sure if you heard that right, swivelling in the direction of the voice and blinking in disbelief.
You turn to find Toji with his legs spread wide, slouched back on the sofa where you left him, while the younger man stands holding some kind of cord in his hands.
Your eyes widen, your mind jolting awake when you see the way he pulls and grips it, stepping closer to you. Your body lags.
“Mm” Toji grunts, not taking his eyes off the TV.
Megumi takes this as permission to pull you up and drag you to the bedroom, your legs stumbling after your body, your mind succumbing to panic.
His hand tugs at your wrist, while you’re distracted by something strange in the edges of your vision. It’s subtle to start with, colours fading in where they weren’t before, shadows starting to move.
You try to ignore it, blaming the weed and flickering lights playing tricks on your mind.
You’re pulled from your daze when Megumi jerks your arms roughly, your vision readjusting to find yourself on the bed, your wrists forced to the frame in a tight knot of coarse, black rope.
“Mm– Megumi,” your voice comes out more slurred than you expected, confusion crossing your features, “w-what’re you doin’...”
“What does it look like?” He shoots back, his sharp tone making you recoil.
“I, I don’ know– jus’, w-where’s Toji?”
He watches your eyes dart about, enjoying your fearful expression.
You notice a sinister glint behind his indigo irises, his face looming closer and starting to cloud your vision.
You’re squirming now, pushing yourself up the bed, trying to distance yourself from him. But he keeps coming.
“Stay still…” he stops your motions with a single cool hand closing around your ankle, dark eyes trained on your throat again.
Time stops still when he leans in and places a single, chaste kiss over your neck.
He does it slowly. Gently. As if you’re the only one he’d kiss like this. His silent intensity makes you tremble.
He pulls away with a pleased hum, the feeling of your heartbeat making his lips tingle, his dark mess of hair illuminated with a dull halo.
He’s not too far gone. You could still go back.
“Y-you don’ have to do this,” you stumble, your voice cracking.
“I know,” he presses another kiss over your jaw, becoming ravenous now he can almost smell your fear, “but I want to…”
His voice disappears into the crook of your neck, where he starts sucking and tonguing.
He wants to taste you.
There’s a deep ache inside you now, gripping at your heart and filling your lungs, where it spreads to your throat– to where you can feel his mouth over you.
Nobody has ever kissed you like this before.
The way he sucks and bites is cruel, your body starting to flood with pain. If he does it any harder you’re sure he’s going to taste your blood. He’s going to puncture your neck and let it spill.
“M-megumi– please–” your whispered sobs only urge him on, till he’s dragging his canines over you and sinking them into the soft flesh.
His impassioned movements finally ebb as he switches to tending your marked skin with his tongue and lips, inhaling your scent deeply.
He sits up now, looking longingly into your tear stained eyes, his pupils drifting to where your lips are quivering with his name.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he lies, stroking your ankles gently.
Standing up, he watches you shake your head again, begging him not to go any further and that you’d anticipated being with Toji tonight, asking where he is again.
“He’s a little busy…” he cranes his neck to ensure his father is still transfixed by the TV.
“Plus, you should be grateful,” he tugs off his belt, “you get to take my virginity.”
Your eyes fly wide, your mouth dry and gulping for air stupidly.
Just the way he looks puts you on edge– and now you know he has no experience, you can’t begin to fathom what he’s going to do to you.
“Nn-no– thought, thought Toji w-w–”
His next movements are too swift for your idle, drug induced brain to comprehend.
He’s over you, your arms twisted uncomfortably above your head, his cock nudging at the sweet bud of your clit.
That’s the only ‘foreplay’ you’ll be treated to before he slots himself up against your tight, unprepped entrance, shoving your dress and panties aside.
“Toji!!!” you cry out for the older man, “Toji, god–” but your voice is interrupted, choked by his cock sinking into you, hard and deep.
The man before you has changed, his resting scowl paling in comparison to the now fierce arch of his eyebrows.
Why are you crying for his father when he has everything you need right here?
“Ah– haah—” you shake and squirm, struggling with his untamed, crude thrusting.
Your head flies back when he pushes deeper still, slowly working your raw pussy open to the shape of him, while he watches fresh tears trickling over your waterline and gathering beautifully in the corners of your wide, glassy eyes.
“Hm,” he lets a little laugh escape, enjoying your quiet sobbing and whimpering as he gets rougher and dirtier, grabbing and marking your skin.
Your arms start to jostle and tug in the bindings, your wrists aching from the pressure.
“Untie me…” you sniffle.
“Untie you? But I haven’t even got started yet…”
He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, trailing his hand down your face and stroking the marks on your neck.
“Might untie you after I hear you scream,” he gives you an experimental squeeze, then leans closer, bringing his face down next to yours.
The way he’s talking has you wondering if he really is a virgin, your thought quickly dispelled by his hedonistic thrusting.
You can hear his shaky breath in your ear now, your legs lifting instinctively when you feel him haphazardly pressing on your g-spot.
“Yeah, open up f’me,” he whispers, sucking on your earlobe, his free arm encircling your head to cage you in closer.
You can feel his hips start to jolt unevenly. He’s close.
“D-don– don’ cum inside,” you beg, your eyes getting bleary as he constricts your windpipe.
You feel him smirking over your skin, speeding up his ragged motions, squeezing.
Your pained breaths consume him, urging him to crush your throat with a look in his eyes that makes you believe he’s going to take your life.
His pale, beautiful face hovers above yours, eyes enrapt by every miniscule expression of terror that passes your features.
“S-s—”
Your voice is gone, you can only fight for breath now, your body succumbing to a helpless fit.
You struggle. Kicking. Hips bucking.
He drinks it all in, thrusting mercilessly now.
“You can’t do that to her.”
You hear a sudden deep, booming voice, hands pulled from your neck, air flooding your lungs as you sputter and cough.
Toji takes his son’s arms and bends them behind his back, restraining him instantly and pulling him off you; out of you.
He lets the sight sink in for a moment, words failing him.
Toji’s affected by the drugs and booze, but he can still get some kind of hold on this fucked up situation.
“Look. Just let me show you… what you’re supposed to do,” he drawls into the younger man’s ear before releasing him.
Sure, he needs to take responsibility. But he can’t let you go. Not yet.
You shake your head again, watching the younger man struggling with his achy, hard boner after being denied his first raw dogging orgasm.
His father readjusts you on the bed to his own liking, leaving you tied up and taking your thighs in his beefy hands. He dips his head low, lips skimming over your neglected clit.
“‘M feelin’ hungry…” he mutters, proceeding to swirl his tongue through your heat, where his son’s cock was digging moments ago, humming while parting your labia and licking sensually at your little jewel.
However done you are with this situation, overcome with lightheadedness from your choking, you’re glad to at least be sent reeling through a few much needed orgasms.
And now you’ve had a chance to breathe and relax a little, you’re becoming aware of a shift in your consciousness.
Your body is right here, in this moment, experiencing every fleeting detail in high definition. But your mind is somewhere else, overcome with a feeling of simultaneous presence and dissociation.
The older man sits up, patting the bed for his son to join him.
“You ok, doll?”
He watches you look around curiously, taking in the room that’s now bending and changing before you.
“Think the lsd’s kickin’ in…” he mutters, “just lay back, promise we’re not gunna hurt ya.”
“The-the what?” you stutter, your hands starting to tense and grip in the restraints.
“Look, there were a few drops of acid in that last wrap, jus’ relax, ok?”
Fuck. You knew you shouldn’t have come here.
You let it sink in, taking a deep breath so you don’t lose your cool. You cannot let your mind spiral on this drug.
“That’s it,” he encourages you, “good girl. Jus’ let go.”
You give up trying to fight it, obeying his gentle tones, working past the nausea to find your mind and body entering a different headspace.
Reality fades in and out, feeling their tongues on you, one after the other, switching and exchanging till you’re unaware of what’s happening to you.
You can only sense their touch, submitting your body to the chemical pleasure.
Your clothes are torn off now, soft, deep words being exchanged until you feel them shifting around.
You feel the unmistakable nudging of a hardened cock at your entrance once more. Only this time, it slips through your folds easily, your slick hole welcoming the long, hard member.
You blink slowly, your vision wobbling as your mind enters a trance in sync with their rhythm.
“Megumi?” no, “Toji?” you honestly can’t tell, your faculties slowly dulling as the powerful drug takes over.
You reach out your arms hoping to discern who’s inside you, only for their body to move away as another frame enters your view.
You feel his cock sink in, hips rolling and stimulating your senses till you’re creaming and moaning around his girth.
“T-tojii–” you’re sure it must be the older man. He feels strong, manhandling you and pushing you wider.
But he pulls away too soon.
You focus hard, seeing both of them now, one figure in front of the other, one man guiding, the other following.
“...like this… take her… deep…” you can only make out a few words, wide eyes distracted by the scar on his lips.
But the way Megumi’s cock slides in is completely different than before– the feral jackhammering transformed into long drags, smooth and hard.
They exchange words, Megumi’s movements getting greedier until you feel his body consuming yours in a display of lust and passion so strong you let out a scream of his name.
The sound of your voice, combined with the grip of your pussy that’s drenched with the slick of a fresh orgasm, rips a groan from his depths.
You hear him panting and moaning, his thrusts getting sloppy, until he’s drawn out of you again.
That was close. You think, realising his father pulled him away before he could spill inside you.
Things are getting blurry now. They’re both over you, on you, in you.
With the surreal visuals taking over, your mind enters another realm while they kiss and fuck and share your body.
Spiky black hair, blue and green eyes flashing, hard muscles and sadistic smiles are all you can see.
Their images burn into your retina, becoming a blurred mirage of nightmarish beauty.
A sight that you will never forget.
Now that Toji’s brought his son up to speed and you’re all wet, you honestly can’t tell who is who.
So you sink into it, enjoying the spiralling visions behind your closed eyelids while they draw waves of orgasmic pleasure from your body.
They bend and move you, pinning your legs back, pushing deeper, then onto your knees. You’re getting so absorbed in the trip now, the euphoric energy taking over, that you’re only partly aware that you’re being lifted.
You’re off the bed, you know that much.
You’re in a pair of strong arms. It’s Toji. You smile, your eyes clearing to see his roguishly handsome face before you.
“Hey pretty girl,” he places tender kisses over your lips, and you accept them with pleasure, “gunna try somethin’ fun now…”
You giggle, liking the sound of that very much.
He holds you, his massive cock melting into your core so deep he’s going to become a part of you, then slides his fingers over your ass.
You feel another body behind you. Megumi.
You turn, feeling his lips over you as well, murmuring sweet praise in your ear the whole while.
You feel him sliding over your ass now, through the wet juice of your pussy, pushing into the tight ring.
“Oh, oh my– fuck–” he edges in, his father thrusting slowly while urging him to be gentle.
“Haahhh–” you breathe out, your head falling back onto Megumi’s hard shoulder where he caresses your skin with his lips.
“That’s– that’s fucking good,” he hums in your ear, pushing himself all the way back while grabbing your ass.
They cradle you, thrusting in tandem, as you reach a new level of bliss.
Hearing them, feeling them takes you higher, until you can only sense their deep moans vibrating through you, the drag of their cocks.
Your thoughts turn slippery, losing focus on the world around you, wondering how you ended up here in the first place, realising that you don’t care.
Right now, you care about the man in front of you, tall and broad, scarred lip between his teeth with dark green eyes fixed on yours.
His ever sombre stare resides behind those fiery irises.
It captivates you.
Your body is convulsing with dopamine once more, slurred thank yous leaving your lips, and all you can concentrate on is counting the shades of green in his eyes.
Flecks of amber shimmer within the emerald, his lashes blinking slowly, eyebrows quirking.
“Watcha lookin’ at?”
“Mm, pretty,” is all you can muster at this time, earning a snort of laughter.
He mutters under his breath and starts taking you harder till you feel him pulling you off his son and pushing you down on the bed.
Your legs spread, wide and obedient, holding yourself by the knees while he takes your nipples between his lips, between his teeth.
“How many times s’that now?” he feels you clenching and bucking again.
You just giggle and sigh, stroking his obsidian strands in a dreamy state.
He hums with pleasure; you feel his nose dipping into your neck, where he places soft, gentle kisses, in contrast to his now animalistic pace.
Letting off hot grunts and moans, he finally spills his hot, wet cum.
He pulls away, his son entering your vision once more.
Angling your ass up, he guides himself in again, enjoying the way your tight muscle spasms around him, but takes him all nonetheless.
His hips get nasty, drawing whimpers from you until he nears his release, growling and sinking his teeth into your marked skin.
“Fuck– fuck–” you tug at his jet black spikes, encouraging him to take all he needs until you feel his hot load shoot deep into you.
“Ugh, oh princess– fuck me–” he sighs, strong muscles overcome with exhaustion as he watches your beautiful features relax once more.
You feel peaceful, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair hangs over those dark eyes.
Your wavering vision absorbs his graceful figure in all his glory, your mouth opening before your brain catches up.
“Art” you poke at his hardened stomach, earning a slight smile, “artist.” You look up at his father now, appreciating the view as he stands before you.
You giggle, laying back and focusing on the ebb and flow of your breath, feeling your senses leave you, your eyes resting as you enter transcendental sleep.
⁺⋆
You wake to find your body bare, but clean.
There’s no longer white liquid oozing from you– just soft, warm sheets and the fresh smell of soap.
You climb out of the bed, stepping to the bathroom, eyes still half lidded and hazy.
You look in the mirror, finding kaleidoscopic visuals in the reflection, where the glass bends and trembles.
But you can see your face. Unscathed. Unharmed. You look down. It’s just a few bruises. You’re fine.
Despite their questionable methods, this has been a good trip… and you have to admit, a very good fuck.
So in your giddy state, you tiptoe out to the main room, watching their heads turn from the TV, grins emerging.
“Mornin’ honey,” Toji coos. It’s dark outside. You have no idea what time it is.
You step over to the sofa, sinking between the two men again, taking their lips and tongues while their hands roam and fondle your body.
You sit back, enjoying how they’re drawn to you magnetically, allowing their pleasure to fill your body once more while you ride out the most ethereal high of your life.
⋆⁺ [see you in hell]
toji | m.list
#magic.kinktober⋆⁺#kinktober#kinktober 2023#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro smut#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro smut#tw: murder#tw: violent death#tw: violence#tw: sex work#tw: inc*st#tw: drugs#tw: dubious consent#tw: dubcon#tw: noncon#tw: sex#tw: sex mention
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Next is Depth! He is dark Sky. (He gets his own special dramatic portrait—the perspective mostly works? Idk I need to practice and find some good refs for this sort of thing.) So much rambling about him and his design under the cut.
Masterpost
The most striking thing about Depth is how normal he looks. Disregarding a few odd features, he looks like Just Some Guy, at least until he opens his mouth. He occasionally feigns being mute around others so he can keep the charade of being human up for longer, since his voice sounds truly awful. Depth is paler than Sky with much darker hair and orange-red eyes, but is otherwise identical. He doesn't mind that, and chooses to play it up a bit with very similar clothes, too. His tunic is rust-colored, opposite Sky’s spring green, and his chainmail is pointed and jagged on the ends instead of smooth. He wears a purple sash with more angular designs and lines, which matches the purple charm that keeps his cape on.
Depth’s sailcloth is both a source of pride and a sore spot. He made it to contrast Sky’s, dark and tattered, but one of his very secret desires is to get one as beautiful as Sky’s, made by Sun, maybe dark, but functional and lovely and a reminder of her.
See, Depth doesn't understand Sun—he doesn't actually know her, though he has memories from Sky. He wants her to be a damsel in distress that he can rescue, he dreams of her choosing him over his Light, but he doesn't realize that she won't. He loves his idea of her. While Depth follows [insert LU bad guy here]’s directives, he makes his own plans and he has his own agendas, and many of those plans aid him, in some way, to win Sun’s affection.
However, as Depth has been growing into the leader role, he's starting to become attached to the other Darks. He's annoyed by them, but his plans have started to expand to benefit them in a way that doesn't necessarily benefit him, too. He might have a little altruism in him, after all.
Despite that, unfortunately, Depth remains someone who would not save the world, but someone who intends to damn it over and over again. He doesn't flinch at the thought of Demise’s curse, in fact, he would welcome it. He likes the idea of having a purpose and a destiny. He wants to coddle the few people he cares about and would set everything on fire to do it. He says he loves Sun more than Sky ever could, but he would lock her away to keep her "safe."
Depth is the de facto leader of the group, since he's driven and has ambition. He has a very strict idea of what the other Darks should be doing and gets upset when they don't do it. He hates being touched and is ruthlessly practical. Once, when Nothing was being particularly annoying and tried to steal Depth’s sailcloth, Depth broke at least one of Nothing's fingers. He hasn't gotten close to injuring someone like that again, due to equal parts nobody bothering him like that again and him trying to be a little gentler. He doesn't hesitate to threaten injury to keep order, though.
Depth knows about Ghirahim as a sword, and wants to wield it, but is under the impression that he needs to prove himself worthy first. (Whether or not [LU bad guy] actually intends to let him use it is a different story.) Depth is one of the more skilled sword fighters among the Darks, remembering formal training, but his sword isn't anything special. In a fight with Sky, they would be evenly matched if it weren't for Sky’s ability to use a Skyward Strike, and Depth's inability to block that much light.
Depth’s special ability is his voice. In a mundane way, the others try to not make him use it, because it's almost painful to hear. In a magical way, Depth’s voice carries over long distances. When he sings, he can summon creatures like bats, crows, rats, and snakes, and they'll listen to him for a time. When he screams, his voice is a magical, short-range wave of destruction. Yes, he's an evil Disney Princess. Depth doesn't feel any strong affinity for the animals he attracts, but he doesn't let Dire or anyone else hurt them, and he doesn't send them to their deaths. He mostly uses them as spies and distractions.
Depth is one of the more dangerous members of the Dark Chain—not because he’s physically imposing or particularly powerful, but because he can see beyond the next mission and is determined to ruin the Lights once and for all. He's one of those who would happily kill his Light—but only after Depth shows him how he has lost everything dear to him.
#my art#lu z darks au#is this even lu anymore#i mean technically im using the lu interpretations so okay#linked universe
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Steve’s maternal grandfather was a classically trained pianist. He traveled all over the world as a concert pianist before retiring around the time Steve was born. He takes a job as a church pianist and buys Steve a baby grand piano so he can teach his only grandson how to play. Steve learns how to play piano and read music before he learns how to read books.
His grandfather dies when Steve is 9, and his mom gets upset whenever she hears Steve playing, because it reminds her of her dad, who chose the piano over her most of her life. So, Steve stops playing, not wanting to upset his mom. She tried to sell the piano, but no one in Hawkins is interested, so it stays covered with a bedsheet and locked away in the former music room.
Steve picks it up again when his parents start fighting and his mom starts going on business trips with his dad. He finds himself spending long nights at the penchant, fingers dancing across the ivory keys. He’s rusty at first, but playing the piano is a lot like riding a bike — you never really forget.
He keeps his talent a secret, though. Keeps the piano locked away in the old music room when Robin and the Party is over and doesn't let them down that hallway. Likes that he has something for himself, though he does have moments where he wishes he could share his talent with his found family.
Eddie’s the first person he tells.
They’re hanging out together in Steve’s living room. Eddie’s got his acoustic slung across his lap. Fingers moving up and down the frets. His brows are furrowed, and his lip is tugged between his teeth. He’s been stuck on the same melody for days now and Steve offered up his place, hoping a change in scenary would rid him of his music block.
It hasn’t.
“Jesus H. Christ” Eddie swears, gently moving the acoustic to the side. He throws the rest of his body down on the rug.
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Ed’s. It sounds great.”
“You’re just saying that cause it’s not loud and obnoxious.”
“It is different than your usual sound,” Steve hums, gently guiding himself from the couch down to the floor next to Eddie.
“Jeff wrote a love song for this girl he’s seeing. But he's always sucked at the music part, so I said I’d give it a shot.” Eddie says, raising his arms in the air in front of his face. He starts to fiddle with the large skull ring on his finger. “I think the melody would sound better on a piano but none of us can play so, my acoustic will have to do.”
Steve's not sure why he does what he does next. Maybe it's because Eddie is right, and the song would sound better with a piano, or maybe it's because he'd move the moon and starts to make Eddie Munson smile. Whatever the case, Steve stands. Offers Eddie a hand and hoists him with him.
He starts walking down the hallway towards the room no one even knows exists. Eddie hot on his heels.
"Don't tell me you've been hiding a secret sex dungeon," Eddie teases as Steve raises to his tiptoes to grab the key hidden on the top of the door frame.
"If I had a secret sex dungeon, don't you think I'd have shown it to you by now?" Steve asks, hip-checking Eddie out of the way so he can get to the door knob.
"Fair point," Eddie says.
Steve can tell he's about to say something else, when the door clicks open. The baby grand is still covered with a white bedsheet, but it's easy to make it out. Especially for a music expert like Eddie.
"Holy shit," Eddie says, slowly moving closer to the center of the room as if he's going to startle the piano. "Is that what I think it is?"
Steve nods and begins rolling up the bedsheet exposing the beautiful black, shiny baby grand piano. He tosses the sheet aside and takes a seat at the bench. Carefully lifts the keyboard cover and pats the bench next to him. Eddie joins instantly.
"You can play?" Eddie asks as Steve's fingers start moving across the keys. He starts with something simple, the melody to "Twinkle Twinkle," before moving on to one of the formal pieces his granddad taught him. Eddie sits motionless, eyes darting between Steve's profile and his fingers dancing across the keys. When Steve stops, Eddie lets out a gasping breath. Playfully bumps his shoulder with Steve's. "You son of a bitch! You have been holding out on me!"
"Maybe a little," Steve chuckles. "But not about having a sex dungeon."
"You sure about that?" Eddie says, moving in closer. He rests his head on Steve's shoulder and angles his face so his lips are right next to Steve's ear. "I hear sex on a piano is pretty amazing."
Steve blushes, feels the butterflies fluttering in his gut. He laughs, shrugging Eddie off his shoulder. Playful. Bashful. "Come on, we've got a song to write."
Eddie looks at Steve, even more bewildered than before. This time Steve meets his gaze, takes in Eddie's woofish smile that he's trying to hide behind a strand of hair and his blown pupils.
"You really are my wildest dreams come true," Eddie moans, stealing a kiss. It's a quick but passionate. A reminder that they're not done yet. "Alright, let's get this song done so we can really break this piano in after."
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington ficlet#eddie munson ficlet#this came to me in the shower lmao#idk if its anything but here you go lol#stranger things#stranger things ficlet#dani writes
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I'm back on my avatar ish so here are some headcanons I have for bumizumi daughter
‐ Izumi and Bumi had Iroh and then a daughter five years later
- The daughter is an airbender. She reminds me of like a Ty Lee very light on her feet and probably knows chi blocking techniques
- I think they found out she was an airbender in a completely random way like through a fight with iroh or doing something goofy with bumi
- I don't necessarily believe Aang was a bad father but I do believe that because of the circumstances he wasn't always able to give the attention to Bumi and Kya so I think when Bumi finds out his daughter is an airbender he kind of hides it at first. Like he believes he is protecting his daughter as much as possible
- But Aang obviously finds out cause he's the avatar and so excited that another airbender is born and so the fact that he can now share his knowledge with not one but two people is so exciting
- But Bumi is like there is no way you are putting that pressure on my little girl, which leads to a lot of arguing from both sides
- Bumi lets Aang train his daughter but only if Iroh is allowed to come as well because that's fair
- I think just naturally Iroh becomes more interested in his grandpa Zuko because he has a cool dragon and he doesn't have to sit quietly and meditate all the time so he's cool with not hanging out with them but he still is close with his grandpa aang
- I don't think their daughter is a prodigy like Tenzin since she doesn't spend as much time as he did and Bumi is an advocate for her also being a kid and experiencing other things as well but like she's good and has potential
- I also think she doesn't take it as serious. Like she understands the importance of learning airbending but she doesn't feel like she's carrying the fate of air benders on her shoulder but she's also going to goof off
- This might be out of character for Aang but I think one day he's super overwhelmed and alot is going on and his granddaughter is not taking anything serious and he gets frustrated and blows up not on purpose but the damage was already done and she was HURT
- Bumi goes OFF like I don't think he ever been so mad at his dad and he says "you won't make her like Tenzin" or something like that and it hurts and there is so much emotion and then it goes quite
- I don't think think there is a formal apology but there definitely a shift, like Aang backs off a little but and the trainings become less frequent.
- Unfortunately around this time Aang starts to get sick (effects of being in the ice catching up to him) and unfortunately passes away before she can get her tattoos and formally become an air nomad.
- I think after Aang dies she doesn't bend as much like its too emotional, she does uses it to protect her family but it is not something she uses often even though Tenzin encourages her too
- She instead focuses more on her fire nation royal duties but contributes more after the Harmonic Convergence
Might do one for Iroh too cause I have thoughts for him as well.
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There were so many hot guys at adult public skate tonight I was like what the hell...usually it's like 60 year old beer leaguers and sjsu students and adult figure skaters? Where did u all come from. Go away. Either pull the fuck up or stop smiling at me. Anyway, three thoughts:
4th set of ice skating lessons started two weeks ago, and halfway through class today I went, you know what? I'm not actually that bad. I mean I'm not good! I can't do very much! But I'm not afraid anymore either, and that goes really really far in how much more willing I am to try new things and have fun with it. I still have some kind of insane mental block against doing a crossover but I also tried doing a C turn (against a wall to be clear lmao) today and fucked it all the way up into a S turn. And I had fun!!
I started doing strength training twice a week in the beginning of January, which is likely a huge reason for why ice skating is getting easier lol, but which I started because I saw a physical therapist for chronic back pain and she went bro this is so fixable you're not injured you just have no core strength. I was wandering around last weekend minding my own business and realized I hadn't had a really really bad pain day in a while. Which is insane!! I was regularly an 8 on the pain scale for years!! And now it's not something I have to think too hard about. So that feels good too!
Today my coworker said, "I know you are new to the non-profit world, so I want you to know that I have never in 20 years in the nonprofit field seen the way [situation at work] has spiraled out of control. Like [rapidly spiraling situation] is the worst I've ever seen." And I went, okay, well, idk what to do about THAT but I need health insurance so I'm staying. And she was like, no, I didn't mean you should leave, I just meant we don't have a direct manager and the person overseeing us doesn't have the capacity to care, so if you want to take half a day off for the AHL All-Star Game, just put that you're out of the office on the schedule and don't worry about formally requesting it. And that felt GREAT!!
Good day!! Good week I hope 😤
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How Obey Me Shot Itself In the Foot: The Better Version of Obey Me That Lives In My Head
MASSIVE WARNING FOR DISCUSSION OF RELIGION. Specifically of Abrahamic religions (Islam, Christianity, and Judaism) and their shared God. I am doing this in a media analysis context, not to shame any particular religion or anyone’s particular beliefs. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to not read this post, stop reading at any point, and/or unfollow/block me. DO NOT try to start religious discourse on this post or in my askbox/DMs, I will clown on and block you.
Also spoiler warnings for a ton of different Obey Me lessons.
Intro (X), Michael (X)(X)(X)(X), Conclusion (X)(you're here)
aka The Part Where I Actually Talk About Why Raphael Should Kill MC
Why Raphael Should Kill MC
I've thought for a long time about how I'd handle writing Bible fanfic, so I have many ideas about how I'd portray Heaven and Hell. This section was originally going to be an in-depth deep dive into my Celestial Realm and Devildom worldbuilding, but that would take too long and potentially reveal some stuff I might use for my longfic that's in progress.
But the essence of it is:
The Celestial Realm is a militaristic and very protective/insular realm as a result of Father/God's paranoia over his loss of control over his creations. The Devildom and many parts of the human world are formed by rejected "imperfect" creations that were banished from the Celestial Realm. Only humans with "pure" souls are let into the CR, while the others are reincarnated or sent to the Devildom to face punishment.
There are three basic types of angels: the original extensions of God responsible for helping to create things, the warriors who fight off demons and protect the CR, and those who look after different aspects of creation, especially humans.
The Devildom is the product of a fucked up version of the island of misfit toys, as previously described. They are the rejected creations of the CR, sent to die in the void at the edge of existence. But they didn't die. However, adapting to this harsh environment created harsh and vicious creatures that came to be known as demons. The original Demon King earned his title by figuring out how to siphon power from CR and human-world beings, a practice that lead to most of the Devildom being divided into 7 courts of the 7 deadly sins.
Human souls that get sent to the Devildom don't face any organized punishment: they're fair game for any demons that find them though. If the human has a pact with one or more demons, that/those demon/s have dibs and can do with them what they wish.
There are many types of demons in terms of form, but nearly all are aligned to a sin. Only the very oldest ones are not, or aligned to multiple. They have a wide range of jobs much like any earthly civilization.
The Human World is largely unaware of the supernatural forces that shape it, but two primary groups who are aware are witches and sorcerers. Sorcerers are more organized: they have a strict code to follow vis a vis how they use their magic, are registered with the Sorcerer's Society, experience formal training, etc. Witches are more freelance and unstructured, though they may form covens who may occasionally meet up. Sorcerers tend to be more aligned with the CR, while witches tend to be more aligned with the Devildom. That being said, it's not unheard of for a sorcerer to deal with demons in the form of pacts.
Solomon is famously an exception to how sorcerers are expected to behave, having 72 pacts and a more experimental magic practice. But he's old as fuck and the best at what he does, so no one can really tell him not to.
Diavolo's exchange program is a genuine effort to unite the three realms, to bridge the gap that was created so long ago. The CR reads it as a front to gain better access to their magic, or even to attempt a takeover. But they refuse to truly strike first and restart the war, so they're at an uneasy stalemate.
Until the stuff with MC happens.
In the version of Obey Me that lives in my head, seasons 1 and 2 are largely unchanged. I'd probably remove/alter how our connection to Lilith works (and in fact Lilith's role would be very different overall), but the basic plot beats stand.
As I mentioned 800 posts ago, I lost my account at lesson 41, so I don't know much about how the human world arc goes, and honestly I don't really care. Because for me, if we're gonna put s3 in the human world, we're gonna learn about the human world's magic scene. Which means if MC's initiation into the sorcerer's society doesn't happen there in canon, that's where I want it to happen.
But I also want the Sorcerer's Society to be extremely suspicious of MC. Yes, they're Solomon's apprentice, but... they're Solomon's apprentice. They're a rogue element, and the beginnings of a legacy of rogue elements. A very powerful one too.
Something should be done about that.
S4 starts with the expanded roster of exchange students, Thirteen and Raphael. We were already introduced to Thirteen in s2 as a somewhat antagonistic force, but now we get to meet her in full. Yay! Unfortunately this isn't about her, so let's move onto Raphael.
Raphael was sent to the Devildom to kill MC. The CR was tipped off by someone in the Sorcerer's Society that they're too dangerous, too powerful, the cause of all the mess from s2, and they need to be iced. But the thing is, they're closely bonded with the demon prince, as well as the seven traitors lords, so he needs to make it look like an accident.
Throughout season 4, MC experiences a variety of strange and increasingly dangerous mishaps, culminating in an encounter where a group of hardline traditionalist demons accost them. MC has plot armour though, so they kick their assailants' asses, only to find out they were encouraged to action by none other than Raphael. MC is shocked to learn this, because other than being a weirdo, Raphael hasn't seemed all that threatening.
They're so shocked, they don't notice him behind them, spear in hand.
They're captured and taken to the Celestial Realm, alive but bound in manacles that restrict their access to their pacts and powers. They meet Michael, who exposits the trouble they've been causing him. He then lays out their choices for them:
Break their pacts, have their memory wiped, and return to the human world to live an ordinary life.
Break their pacts and be accepted as an honorary member of the Celestial Realm's ranks (read: get a pair of mind control bangles slapped on them forever)
Use their pacts to bring the brothers back to the CR so they can be "purified"
Die lol
So if I was straight up writing a game plot, this would be the point that the brothers and co. show up, there's a big showdown, maybe they resolve things peacefully in the end, maybe the war starts up, idk, but for the purposes of plot bunnies, I like leaving it here because there's a lot of things that could happen from this point.
(Bonus: after this is resolved the Demon King wakes up and then we have a whole 'nother problem to deal with)
#obey me#obey me celestial realm#obey me raphael#obey me michael#obey me devildom#mine#How Obey Me Shot Itself in the Foot
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Hey doll! I saw you tagged for more asks like the Seventeen working at Walmart (which I LOVED btw!) and I've come to deliver! I'm at a Casino hotel overnight with The Bestie™️ and we're down at the pool! So...how about SVT working at a public pool??? 😅😅😅
bc there are so many mf's in this group i hope you don't mind me expanding a little into a hotel/water park resort.
choi seungcheol life guard i have no other reasoning behind this other than i want to see him in the cute red swim trunks ok. drowning myself in the deep end so he can give me the kiss of life. he's probably working the wave pool and like actually has to rescue people every time the big wave hits.
jeonghan is the barrtenderrrr *t-pain voice* and he has to wear that cute little formal fancy bartender fit (u know the one) and he is a prof mixologist like he's making you shit that is not even on the menu and it is amazing.
joshua works at the tiki bar in the water park so he's whipping up daiquiris and other frozen delights all day long and gets to enjoy the sunshine. humor me and picture that pretty golden glow and long sandy blonde hair okay i have a specific vision.
junhui is also a lifeguard but specifically for one of the big water slides - it's so shallow that he usually sits there are just watches all day making sure everyone is safe but witnesses hella ass crack when people try to exit the slide. so he's kind of just a glorified water monitor and buttcrack patrol.
hoshi delivers room service and knows all the hot gossip because holy shit he just left room 212 and the married guy who was just here last week was in there with a completely different woman today. besties with the entire housekeeping staff.
wonwoo is also a lifeguard (shhh there is a lot of water ok) but specifically for the lazy river so he just wades around all-day from one shady spot to the next making sure kids aren't blocking up tube-traffic. He does think it's really fun to walk against the current and considers it his workout for the day.
woozi is singing in the resort lounge like zack and cody's mom but he is getting hella hoes. tip jar on the piano is full of room #'s and key cards. he's like ahaha i'm flattered but no thanks but has given in once or twice after a little convincing from jeonghan.
minghao concierge bro he can get you into ANYWHERE because he doesn't take no for an answer. exclusive restaurant with a waitlist a mile long? reservations at 8pm with a complimentary bottle of wine, baby.
mingyu is so a cabana boy. he's got warm towels, he's got drinks, he's got a shrimp cocktail to deliver, and he's got a creepy cougar to escape from bc she won't stop making passes at him and now he's hiding in the laundry room which leaves...
boo seungkwan, the other cabana boy who is always annoyed and cursing under his breath but can turn his customer service face and voice on and off like a switch. will drag mingyu out of hiding by his hair when he notices it getting too busy.
vernon works at the resort guest check-in and has his speech so automated in his head that if someone interrupts him he loses all train of thought and has to start over. calls the bell boy just for funsies when he is bored which really pisses...
chan the bellboy off because he just ran his ass all the way across the resort thinking he was actually needed but it's just vernon fucking around with an empty lobby. fills those carts to the brim like Tetris and refuses to ask for help bc his pride says he can move all 800lbs of luggage himself.
seokmin i’m so sorry i forgot u baby it’s bc he is so busy working that resort valet parking the NIOCE cars. running around in his lil polo looking all fine and handsome like tip the man bc he uses it on his expensive cologne you can still smell when you get in ur car.
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Chaos Kitchen (Ft. Demon Brothers and GN! MC)
Warnings: Mentions of animal harm/death, technically attempted stabbing, nothing worse than the game itself though.
Length: 0.9k words
Genre: Chaotic
Summary: You've unfortunately found yourself in the kitchen helping out your demons. As if it wasn't crowded enough in there, someone else decides to join you.
A/N: I figured I'd post something fun and lighthearted before the angst train completely leaves the station. I've got a bunch of half-finished fics I'm going to try and get done and out, and this was one of them. I don't think I missed any warnings, but if I should add some, please let me know! (This fic is pure chaos, the 'warnings' in this case are mostly a formality.)
I hope you enjoy the story!
-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)
Story below, please don't claim as your own!
The world is divided on many issues, but one thing everyone can agree on is that having other people in the kitchen with you is annoying.
As someone living with 7 demons, this was something you understood all too well.
Even so, it was exceptionally rare for all eight of you to be in there at once.
This was one (and thankfully, the only) such occasion.
To celebrate the success of the exchange program, Diavlo had decided to throw an enormous party.
For all of the participants of the program, obviously, but also for some high-society members of the Devildom and Celestial realms alike.
And Diavlo, in his infinite wisdom, decided that in the interest of hospitality all Devildom-residing participants should be in charge of cooking for the banquet, because "It would be that much more meaningful than having it catered!"
Right now, you couldn't give a damn about hospitality.
Everyone else had one specific dish they were working on. (Except for Beel. He was tasked with dish duty to avoid any disasters.)
You figured you would be tasked with making a dish from the human world. After all, it's not like anything Solomon made could be ingested by a living being.
But nooooo.
You were told to 'help whoever needed it'.
And though you loved your seven demons with all your heart, sometimes you seriously wondered how they managed to survive this long without you.
For the better part of the last three days leading up to this, you had been pulled in seven directions.
Just as you were about to snap, there finally came a welcome distraction.
"ARGH!!! GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT, OUT, OUT!"
Well, it was welcome for you. Asmo didn't take too kindly to whatever was obscured from your view by a giant pile of eggshells on the floor.(Seriously, Mammon? The trash can is right beside you...)
Beel was the next to spot it. "Can I eat it?" He asked, his mouth already watering.
"I DON'T CARE! JUST GET IT OUT!" Asmo screeched.
"What is it?" You asked, peering around the garbage.
...Oh. It was a little mouse, seemingly minding its own business.
Asmo had climbed up onto a chair, frantically fanning his eyes so his mascara wouldn't run.
Belphie had grabbed a knife from the block on the counter, and was pointing it at the offending creature.
"Want me to kill it?"
"Yes!" Beel and Asmo answered at the same time, though for very different reasons.
"That seems unnecce-" You were cut off by Satan placing himself protectively in front of the mouse.
"NO!" He shouted, already shifted into his demon form. "Leave it alone, it didn't do anything to you!"
"But look at it!" Asmo cried, pointing at it.
"It's...cute though?" You said, squinting at it. Sure, it didn't belong in the kitchen, but you couldn't see what was so horrifying about it.
"Yeah!" Mammon agreed enthusiastically. "It looks just like ratatouille!"
"His name is Remi," Levi pointed out. "And that's a mouse, not a rat, dumbass."
"I'm still gonna kill it," Belphie said, inching closer.
Satan growled, crouching. This startled the mouse, who started running for cover.
Asmo started screeching again, going as far as to actually get on the table itself.
"Oi! Don't step on the food!" Mammon shouted.
"I'll start up the frying pan," Beel announced, moving to the stove.
"Don't," you grabbed his wrist, holding him back. Even though he could easily break out of your grip, he chose not to when he saw the look on your face.
....Okay. Maybe the random leftovers you had grabbed out of the fridge played a part too.
"Hey! Those are mine!" Mammon protested, glaring at you.
"Forgive me," you mumbled half-heartedly, dodging through the chaos towards Belphie, who seemed to have forgotten about the mouse and was more focused on stabbing Satan himself.
"I'm not moving," Satan stated firmly, apparently not noticing the mouse had long since moved from behind him.
Speaking of, where had it gone anyways?
"Alright, let's put it to an IRL poll!" Levi shouted, joining Asmo on the table to gain some semblance of authority. "Asmo, what's your-?"
"Kill it!"
"And Beel?"
"Eat it!"
"Alright, I'm just gonna count that as two votes for 'kill'. Mammon, what-?"
"Enough."
Everyone froze, turning towards Lucifer.
He had the offending creature in his hands, holding it firmly so it wouldn't wiggle out of his grip. He was also emitting a frightening purple aura.
"Can none of you demons behave like adults?" He asked rhetorically. "One mouse leads to mass hysteria?"
No one moved. No one even breathed.
"Well, come on!" He flicked his hand in a sort of 'go' motion. "Leviathan, Asmodeus, off the table now or so help me. Mammon, pick those damned eggshells off the ground. Satan, go take a breather and come back when you've calmed-"
This was met with a violent tail thrash, sending a plate to the floor. It shattered as Satan stalked out of the kitchen.
"...down." He rolled his eyes. "Beelzebub, cooking a house mouse is not an appropriate solution. And Belphegor, don't...don't stab things? Or your brother? You're not two hundred anymore, I shouldn't need to tell you not to stab things."
Belphie didn't respond, but put the knife back into the block anyways.
"All of you better get back to work. If you're still fooling around by the time I get back, I swear you'll be hung from the ceiling until I finish all of the cooking myself."
Everyone immediately got back to work.
#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor#obey me crack#obey me chaotic#obey me crack fanfic#obey me chaotic fanfic#obey me fanfiction#obey me crack fanfiction#obey me chaotic fanfiction#I love the idea of Lucifer just treating Satan like an angsty teen every time he gets mads
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I had a surprisingly good day. Like nothing huge happened exactly. But I had a really nice time.
Part of it was I slept pretty good. I woke up at 650. Which was my new plan so I could leave at 720 and this worked out really well. I didn't have to rush. I got dressed and went down to see James. We chatted about the day and they sent me off to work. And it was a much nicer drive. No traffic at all. And I got to camp before 8. Amazing.
I was alone for a shocking amount of time. Like no one else came in until almost 10. But it was nice. I got a lot done.
After I printed some things I would spend most of the morning just working on my temperature blanket. I cut all the yarn for the last 11 days and it didn't take too long but it did take a good amount of the morning. And once I was done my knitting I worked on sewing down all the tails and ends from the January block. This took forever and I would work on that mostly consistently until lunch time. There were a few things I had to do. Specifically answer some emails. But I was mostly just focused on my knitting and my sewing.
I would finally get an answer about my awah class. And they had already given the class away and I felt super disrespected in the way they approached it. And I sent a pretty stern email, saying how badly this hurt my feelings. And towards the end of the day she would apologize. But I was very upset about how the entire thing was handled. It would sour the middle of my day pretty thoroughly.
I would enjoy my lunch and work on a few little things before our meeting with John the consultant. Me and Sarah would head over to the lodge to set up the tables but she had to carry 48lbs of aquarium salt to the nature building so I carried both of our laptops and mostly set up the space by myself.
We would sit in there and wait for everyone else to join us. And we talked about if we are going to continue being full time next fall. She doesn't think she will. Maybe part time. And I'm considering that option too. The thing about this grant is it was supposed to be a year but I don't know what that means. Like when is the end of that year. So I started looking into what types of jobs I might want to do. Looking at parks and rec stuff and studio assistant and work from home things. I think next year if I don't continue full time at camp I would enjoy being at the BMI again and doing some kind of computer based work l. Something I can do at home but not talk on the phone a lot. We will see what happens. But it was fun looking around.
Speaking of jobs. James did our taxes today and because my LLC made some amount of money this year we ended up owning $1500. Which honestly is not as bad as I expected. Still sucks but it could have been a lot worse. Would have been nice to get a tax return but I think those days are over.
John the consultant was fun today. I got to talk about the work I've done a lot and he seemed to recognize that I'm not just a talker, I'm a doer. I did get a little frustrated when we were talking in circles because we were calling one thing "village time" and one thing called "village program" and no one was clear about what the difference was. And Alexi and Heather kept talking about starting over with the schedule and while I don't feel precious about my schedule I don't think they understand what they are asking. Like they want more fill camp programs. And they want more free choice. But they still want everyone to do everything. And that can't work. So my big goal tomorrow is to start trying to figure out a way to do the impossible. And like they seem to think I'm sad about them not using my schedule. But that isn't it. I would honestly not mind restarting the schedule because it would give me something to do. What I am frustrated by is that no ine is being clear about what they want. I just want to have clarity.
The meeting was good though. He praised us about the teen job program. Formally the CIT "councilor in training" program. Now possibly the "Push" (puhtok ultimate service heros) program. We aren't sure what the name is yet. I just know we can't use my favorite one "Puhtok incredible service squad" (p.i.s.s.).
I let Alexi know I had to leave right at 4. And the meeting was starting to go over so after I was given my tasks for tomorrow (thank God), I ran out of there. Smiles and waves and I til next time.
It was raining. But not to hard. The problem really was the feild was very squishy. But I made it to the office and grabbed my stuff and headed out.
There wasn't a ton of traffic. And I made it home by 445. I was really happy to see James.
James was making themselves a burrito. I would have cereal and a cookie while we chatted. I would gather all my materials and James took them to the car for me. Carried my wagon too. Love my husband. I gave them a kiss and said I would see them in a few hours.
I drove over to Creative Alliance and had some trouble getting a parking space. So I had to park a little far away. But that was okay.
I actually got the time wrong! The program was actually at 630. So that was really good because their was a meeting in the classroom and I was worried I was going to have to rush set up but I hsd plenty of time.
I chatted with Parker and told him about my feelings getting hurt with awah and he agreed they didn't handle it well. And we just talked for a while. It was nice. He's very cool. I also learned that the cool girl at the desk is only there part time. Because on her real life she's a lawyer! What! That's so cool.
The women running the meeting came out in a rush apologizing about the meeting running late and I'm like. It's chill. But they kept apologizing and were super nice. They would end up taking my info to possibly have a private class. Super sweet.
I spent the next half hour setting up and working on an example. And soon my three students came in. And we had such a good time.
I talked about the history of toys for a bit. About how stuffed animals are different from other toys in form and function. And we got right into it. I showed them tips for fabric cutting and how to whip stitch and it was just a really great time. I would show them some sewing machine stuff. How to put eyes on their bears. How to do a ladder stitch. And we just talked and talked. All three women were fascinating and I really hope I get to meet them again because they were all so nice. The one girl has come to my last workshop and brought her sewing machine for some practice. She is taking a proper sewing machine class too. I admire her for jumping in so hardcore.
The other younger woman recently moved here from Chicago and she goes to theater project a lot!! Which reminds me I would like to go to theater project more again. I will have to talk to James about that.
This was a really excellent couple hours. And once we were cleaned up I checked if they would like me to sweep. They said no and I said goodbye.
I need a stop across the street to see if my missing check is anywhere. But no luck. I'll have to check with Parker tomorrow. See if they can just mail a new one here. I'll get paid eventually so I'm not to worried.
I got home a little while ago. James is playing DND with friends and will hopefully be done soon. I am very ready to go get a shower and get ready for sleep.
Tomorrow I have stuff to do! I'm really glad because it's rough begging for enrichment in my enclosure. But I have a direction now and that's all I need.
Goodnight everyone I hope.you have a great day tomorrow!!!
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Random ask: share something weird/funny/quirky about your creative process (could be writing, could be art) that you've discovered recently and went "huh."
Hi!
I can share a few things, been thinking about my painting process a lot because of the tutorial I'm making, though I don't know if they're unique or anything XD
I spend my doom-scrolling time looking for art references, Pinterest, goggles, I buy a lot of reference packs, whatever for inspiration. Sometimes during a doom-scroll I find a reference that gets my mind working and I have to drop everything immediately and draw it. It basically becomes an intrusive thought until I spit it out in Photoshop. This has been more frequent since going off of my old medications, I got my brain back.
I can not, have never and probably will never make thumbnails or practice sketches because I see the image in my head too clearly. It's not an amorphous concept, I do not feel the need to play with it. (My brother has a similar thing with his music).
I essentially use a bastardised version of the oil painting process when I make my art. And there's a heavy, heavy influence from Baroque styles since I fully admit to being in love with that art style completely. I say this as someone with zero formal training in fine art whatsoever. I just read a lot of books, got hounded by a shiddy partner who gave me a bunch of art-related hang-ups and watched a shit ton of youtube tutorials as I developed my painting process.
I start with a sketch, though when I do this I prefer a white canvas and royal blue (it's a holdover from when I used to scan all my art for digital painting, back when I used a mouse and drew exclusively anime vampire boys). I differ quite heavily from more classical styles here just because I don't like black or dark red for drawing. I still use Loomis though.
I layer values starting with mid-tones and then blocking in darks and lights, though I put them mostly together as opposed to leaving them for last. I always skip the eyes and mouth though, no idea why, it's just a preference.
Then I blur the shit out of it and carve it all back in!
Background colour-main base tones-skin-mouth-eyes-hair-clothing-metalics-background detailing if any is necessary.
I may rely too heavily on references but Vermeer traced using the world's most easy light magic trick so...ner!
Like I have 5 up right now for skintone alone.
I've used the same 3 brushes for the last 9 years and I don't want to change them. I modified their settings to my exact liking over the years and nothing else feels right.
I fix all my main lighting at the end of painting, and even out colour mistakes.
My reliance on chiaroscuro as a crutch, there's so much of that. But it gives skin a glowy effect that I'm obsessed with right now.
I actually love painting hands a lot. So I started painting a lot of hands XD
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You know what, tell me about your stories. I wanna know all of them. Also is there 2nd ch of children of star?? We a re mutuals and we don't interact cause I have shit personality and you don't need to answer this
Thanks for asking and giving me an excuse to go on a tangent! And don't worry about interacting, as long as you're willing to put up with my ESL self occasionally forgetting how to speak English, you're welcome to do so.
There isn't a second chapter of Children of the Stars just yet. Mostly because I'm in my matric year and have been stuck with quite possibly the worst case of writer's block I've had in years. Two factors which have been making it quite difficult to write further, but I managed to partially get my jive back this week so progress continues!
Starting with the Tempest Prince, which is very blatantly inspired by me reading Percy Jackson and the Mortal instruments books during my first playthrough of Bloodborne. It used to be just one book, then I realised that I might need three to tell the full story (Which is when I started calling them the Saga of Storms). Soon, the Saga was five books long and then I realised that this universe still has a ton of loose ends after the story ends, and so five books became 21 split across five saga's, each told from a different perspective and dealing with a different thing that's been left unfinished. I will not milk this for content. There is no content, there is only a story that needs to be told and the 21 books it will take to tell it.
Worldbuilding wise, Earth in this universe exists as a result of five different layers of reality sitting on top of each other. The border realm, realm of chaos and entropy, has quite a visceral reaction to humanity seemingly existing to create order and reacts by corrupting living beings into beasts to kill us (Humans are sort of immune to this, but that's a long story). The higher the density of people, the more often these things manifest. Several thousand years ago, someone figured out that penguins who are corrupted become what humans call Dragons, and the bones of dragons can be made into weapons and infused with the wielders blood to become harder than steel, and immediately grant the bonded all the necessary instincts to wield it: the most effective weapons for killing beasts.
Thus were born the hunters, silver blooded super-warriors who were as much their weapons as their weapons were them.
With time, the hunters realised that with enough concentration, they could manifest runes to perform simple arcane tasks, and that chaining them together could create spells. At the time, people thought these runes were the language of dragons, and called it "Draconic magic". Later, the mages who dedicated themselves to its study realised that these runes were part of something far older, far more ancient. A theorized choir whose words maintained the universe, aptly named 'the worldsong'.
Fast forward eighteen thousand years, past a literal apocalypse, a civil war, and a complete reset of human- 'Redblood' -society to make it seem like the hunters never existed, and you end up in Vereeniging, South Africa, 2021 CE, where two unsuspecting brothers named Jason and Alex bear witness to a greatbeast manifestation (like a beast but considerably harder to kill), and despite having never ascended to become hunters or even having known that the supernatural even existed, the pair fought the beast and despite having not a drop of silver blood in them used actual magic (Which even they didn't know they could do).
Some shenanigans follow, the pair agree to become hunters, and Jason (being the oldest) finally reached the day where he'll ascend and begin his formal training. All the other candidates smear their drakespine (dragon bone) weapons with their blood, submerge them in water, and then pull them out to reveal perfectly refined weaponry hewn with silver veins. He follows their example, except when he pulls it out, the veins aren't silver...
... they're gold.
And nobody, not even the people responsible for prophecies and things, knows what that means.
After that, a mysterious group catches wind of the ordeal and begins scheming in the shadows, Jason and his new friend Helga start doing their training at the Academy of Allyria, with him deciding to study to become a Mage because he's honestly kinda dogshit with a sword, and her studying to become a medic to disprove that demihumans are too brutish to be in a position of caring for the injured.
Out of the blue, Alex is abducted by a group who knows the meaning of golden blood and wants to use it for themselves, and Jason, angry as he is that someone dared to mess with his family storms off to find them, with Helga offering to tag along and help the only person other than her mother and her girlfriend who's ever treated her as a person, as more than a barely sentient animal.
That's about all I can say without spoiling.
Children of the Stars follows Lyanni Sverik, a former noblewoman who was set to inherit the ruling title over an entire Barony who witnessed the genocide of her people. In her anger, she began learning the forbidden knowledge of alchemy and of the arcane. When the temples learnt of this, she was arrested, branded a witch and made a mere slave of the state.
After she meets the patron Angel of her people, Adrian, she eventually learns that he's not divine or supernatural at all. He's simply an alien, a human from the Terran Empire working to uplift her people that decided that the mask of an angel was the easiest path to his goals. All the miracles his kind performed, the arcane might they showcased, were merely spectacles of technology so advanced that it was indistinguishable from magic.
Adrian is what I like to call my little bundle of incredibly fucked up. Like the amount of trauma this man has makes him a minefield to navigate.
The first person he ever killed was trying to kill his mother and succeeding in strangling her (A feat in and of itself, she was practically a one woman army on a bad day). His solution was to smash a shop window and grab a shard of glass to slit her assailant's throat with because Callistoan honour meant he had to protect his own. What's fucked up about this? He was only nine when he was forced to make that decision. His family helped him work through most of the trauma thereof, but even twelve years later, after fighting in a war and watching most of his family die because of what he believes was his mistake, after getting half his body blasted off and becoming a supersoldier for a few years before he was handed an honourable discharge, one of his remaining silent mannerisms is an absolute aversion to anything like a knife or a shard of broken glass.
Ironic then that his eventual girlfriend (Lyanni) usually has at least two of the things on her. Two knives and enough random chemicals to start making bombs and corrosives at a moment's notice.
The thing that's very interesting to write so far is the fact that both my protagonists are horrible people. Hell, they only need to be reframed slightly to be seen as the villains of the story (And only one aspect of the worldbuilding needs to change for them to actually become the villains),and yet they try and succeed in being better people for each other's sake. Also they're the first couple I wrote that got someone's approval for being well made, so yippee!
Other than that, a lot of politics, and a lot of speculative socio-political commentary (regarding topics that won't even have a chance to be controversial for at least another century), but it's fun to write at least.
Echoes of Shadows is based on our world as it was between 1895 and 1902. It's a fantasy world where magical control of the environment is tied to how well you understand what's happening around you. Understand the processes behind combustion well enough and you'll develop pyrokinesis, understand the properties of metal and why they exist well enough and you'll develop ferrokinesis, etc.
The point is, with general human knowledge growing as fast as it is, and the improved public access to such resources, almost half the population are mages with varying degrees of power in various fields.
The fictional country that the book is set in, Ost-Rietland, and its sister state, Zuurveldt, are based on the IRL Boer Republics that historically were one of the few peoples that the British Empire got its ass kicked by and gained respect for even after their subjugation. Ost-Rietland is based on the Transvaal Republic (The province I live in actually used to be part of their territory over 124 years ago), while Zuurveldt is based on the Orange Freestate Republic.
The city of Zuidpunkt is actually based on both Cape Town and Durban with inspiration drawn from photographs of Johannesburg in the 1880s.
The culture of most people outside of the five in the main group is just a slightly different portrayal of my own, down to the incredibly satirical personality of its people (If you've ever seen South African ads, you know what I mean, we make fun of everything- especially social problems- as a way to cope. After all, if you can laugh at something it suddenly doesn't seem so bad, and sometimes lifting that uneasiness helps spur discussions on how to fix it. Nandos is famous for this).
This universe actually came to be while I was giving a crash course on worldbuilding and I was creating a setting from scratch to show my method in practice and some problems that may arise from it when I thought "Hey, this could make for a cool story actually". Unfortunately, I have barely touched the writing for it, so not a lot to comment except that I'm a bit too proud of myself for my method of only portraying the eldritch by only revealing enough about how they look for your mind to do my job for me.
Also, all my WIPs actually share a multiverse. Adrian, Johan and Jason canonically ended up meeting when the veil between their worlds got especially thin, and you can see a different POV of the resulting fight in each story (plus, I have plans to maybe bring all three together for a crossover book at some point, but that's still years down the line if it happens at all)
Sorry for rambling, but thanks again for the ask!
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some points raised by AI advocates that made me stroke my chin and maybe even empathize a tiny bit.
idk, but i like nuance and think it gets elided easily in online discussions. i do not think these below are GOOD justifications, ever, for plundering the hard work and talent of human artists using AI to make art for profit, but they're valid points.
some people tempted by or who make AI art
don't want to take the time to 'git gud, n00b' because they emphatically do not enjoy the process of sucking at shit until they don't suck. and this includes those who might be interested in taking the time, but look at everything they feel might be required and think: 'i could go to film or art school for 3+ years or i could spend 30 minutes tailoring a midjourney prompt.'
i kinda get this one, tbh. artistic skill is hard-won whether you're formally trained or not.
i am untrained; i would say self-trained. but i never stopped drawing as a child like most people do. something visually and mentally clicked for me, something that i couldn't even articulate until i read drawing on the right side of the brain in my 20s, that allowed me to jump over the initial 'why can't i just draw what i SEE AAAAKSHDKF' hurdle.
maybe this is what 'talent' actually means? that early mental/visual shift—where you come to see the world and things in it as a collection of shapes, lines, planes, lights, darks, color blocks, mostly divorced from context or meaning—is present in others like myself, and it does smooth your path.
adults just draw for two, three, four years, compare themselves to people who felt some version of that aforementioned shift and/or went to art school, and conclude that they 'have no talent'. while that understandably feels like a long-ass time to go nowhere fast, three years really isn't a lot of time for organic, undirected skill development. i'm serious. inventing the wheel by yourself takes fucking forever; my drawings didn't stop sucking until i was around 11 or 12. that's half my childhood. easily.
but actually taking classes or diving into hardcore study? can and will drastically shorten that time. the progress i've seen competent drawing teachers achieve with their students in weeks or months, or artists on youtube who do frequent, deliberate practice in a year is not a miracle. real progress is attainable within a reasonable fucking frame of time IF YOU WANT IT.
really, really aren't satisfied with art that looks bad to them and still want to realize their ideas. and i'm talking crying themselves to sleep over the mismatch between their own skills and said ideas. that frustration is REAL and a version of it is actually a huge factor in why children stop drawing.
see all of the above. i don't know how to ease the pain of that skill mismatch. me, i sat with a lot of frustration for a long time; hell, I STILL DO. i think i'd still be halfway decent at lineart and intimidated by actually painting it if i hadn't just started pushing myself to fucking PAINT already, even if it looked really basic. being simultaneously OK with whatever you can do right now and still striving to improve is emotionally difficult.
and i know it hurts to have a really cool idea and feel blocked from making it real, especially if you're just not there yet. 'THEN JUST COMMISSION AN ARTIST,' i can hear you artists screaming from the ether.
yo. artists are expensive. we are, and we kinda need to be to make a decent living or a feasible side hustle (i'm not going to get into artists underselling themselves). i do think most folks in this boat are not greedy tech bros, just ordinary working class folks who want beauty that is good enough without having to shovel over half a week's paycheck for it.
to which i would also argue... dude, you can just save up, too.
often only recognize certain styles of painting (realism or hyperrealism; super-glossy, shiny, high contrast digital painting) as art and want to make art like THAT.
putting aside the fact that art is all-encompassing and literally anything can be art, paintings in realistic styles are what i would argue most lay people think of as capital-A art.
there is a reason why dictators tend to discourage or prohibit non-realist art; why the early USSR and CPC commissioned bright realist murals everywhere; why more abstract art didn't really catch fire in the western world until the advent of photography. people can see themselves and their history, represented in full color and often writ large. that's fucking powerful and sometimes lost, i think, on those of us who see things differently.
but that kind of art is even more out of reach for the lay person who wants it. it takes far longer to make and train for, and artists who work in a realistic style can and do command stupid money. not everyone has that kind of patience or pockets that deep.
firmly believe that some people have more talent than others, so skill development doesn't matter.
these are usually the people i mentioned in my first point, who've actually tried for months or years to git gud but never knew how or what to practice. they've been exposed to lots of people their age who felt the shift™ and can't really explain their faster improvement. if you know this feel, gentle reader, and have no clue what's actually happening, i understand why you might throw in the towel. US culture in particular is terrible at growing and nurturing talent of all kinds, and artists don't often share the hours they're actually pouring into improving specific skills.
'talent' by itself is fucking useless; a person who is willing to work at continual improvement will mop up the floor with someone who doesn't think they need to build skill. artists know this. and if you don't feel that shift as a kid, you can learn how to unlock it as an adult.
#AI#AI art#art is your birthright#musings#turntablism and sampling carry some of the same ethical concerns#the music industry dealt with this by asking musicians to credit their sources#and share any profits generated from their own work in many cases with the original rights holders#it's different ofc because DJs are very consciously choosing what to use from where#like a drum lick here#or a horn blast there#or a spoken line from a recipe#and then weaving everything together into a tapestry that doesn't resemble the original#they're also typically highly skilled artists and producers in their own right#you should look up the history of the 'amen break' sometime#that 6 sec drum sample catalyzed one of my favorite musical styles#drum and bass
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🎵 musician asks 🎵
i see ask games geared towards visual artists here all the time, but i don't think i've ever seen one specifically for music composers / performers — so i decided to make one! feel free to use this as a template to build from and make your own.
post a recent WIP and talk a bit about it!
what are some favorites of your own work? what makes you proud of them?
favorite genre to compose / perform?
least favorite genre to compose / perform?
any genre you haven't tried, but want to?
any favorite instruments to write for or play?
least favorite instruments to work with?
if you sing or play an instrument, how often do you practice?
if you perform, what's your preferred setting? any favorite venues?
describe your process for writing / composing / practicing!
favorite part(s) of your process? (e.g. composing, arranging, recording, sound design, editing, mixing, mastering, performing, etc)
least favorite / most challenging part(s) of your process?
have you received any formal education or training? if so, how much does it impact your work now?
how much do you use music theory when composing?
how much do you use music theory to analyze other artists' works?
any favorite effects / techniques?
when you write / compose, what do you most often start with? (e.g. lyrics, melody, harmony, rhythm etc)
what software / gear do you find yourself using time and again? what do you like about it?
when is your prime time for working on music?
how do you deal with writer's block?
what do you like most about your work?
what are you currently trying to improve on?
how has your music changed over the years?
what draws you to music as a medium?
do you prefer to work alone or in collaboration with others?
which artists first inspired you to pursue music?
which artists do you find yourself emulating in your work most often?
favorite works by other artists? what do you love about them?
what are some go-to references for you when writing / arranging / mixing / practicing?
what are you listening to lately?
any favorite shows / concerts you've attended? what made it memorable for you?
share a memory from something you've worked on (or performed)!
are there any works you've covered / remixed /mashed up? (any that you'd like to?)
are there any kind of projects you'd like to pursue in the future?
if you could collaborate with any artist(s), who would it be and why?
share the weirdest music you've ever made!
if you could share any advice with your past self about working on music, what would it be?
00. wild card (ask a question not listed here!)
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Chapter 7
Her Prince
✏️Prince Namjoon x OC
✏️ Romance
⚠️ Warning Fic includes: Fighting (sword and physical), blood, kidnapping, injury fighting additional warnings in tags⚠️
<<Previous Chapter
Yeona sat on the ground of the training field and stretched as she continued to think about the question Seokjin had asked her last night. Would she give up the shop? Would she give up her life here in Hwen? She always thought if she ever got married that it would be to a man who lived here so that she could still work at the weapon shop.
"Excuse me." Yeona stopped stretching at the sound of a formal voice, "I'm supposed to train with you today."
"Please don't let that be who I think it is." She closed her eyes and said softly as she turned around.
"Noona?" A shocked Jungkook asked when he saw who was sitting on the ground.
"Hello, Jungkook." She replied as she stood up and wiped the dirt off her clothes.
"Well, this should be fun." Yoongi smiled as he stood against the wall.
"It seems you two already know each other," Yeona's trainer said, standing next to Jungkook.
"Yes, we do. I'm not fighting her." Jungkook turned to him and said,
"You said you wanted to train against one of our best, and she's one of them." Her trainer rocked on his heels and smiled at Yeona.
"You're not going to hurt me, Jungkook," Yeona said, trying to reassure him.
"You don't know that. I might, and I won't be ok if I do," Jungkook said, looking back at her.
"Jungkook, trust me. Ok. I've been training since I was a kid." Jungkook relaxed a little, knowing that she might know how to fight.
"Are you sure about this, Noona? I won't go too hard, I promise." She wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or her.
"I'm sure Jungkook." She said with a smile. “Just do me a favor and don't tell the other five about this." Yoongi and Jungkook both nodded their heads in agreement.
"Alright. Now that we've got that settled, let's begin, shall we?" Yeona and Jungkook got into their fighting stance and waited for the trainer to start.
It still took Jungkook a while to push the fear of hurting her out of his mind. But after she had managed to pin him down a few times, he realized that the trainer was right. She was an excellent sparring partner for him. They were both quick on their feet. He was a tad stronger than her, but once her body remembered how to fight, that didn't matter. She knew moves that he didn't, and he was thrown off guard when she held on to one of his shoulders, went behind his back, and swung her legs up, grabbing hold of his head and using all her strength to pull him to the ground and flip him.
"I think we should wrap this up," Yoongi said, moving away from the wall.
"Why? This is the best competition I've had since we got here," Jungkoook said as he threw a punch that was blocked again by Yeona.
"Because you two have been at this for two hours, and I think we've been found," Yoongi replied.
"We've been what?" Jungkook asked as he dodged a punch.
"Is this where you two have been all morning?" Without thinking, Jungkook tackled Yeona at the sound of Namjoon's voice.
"Sorry, Noona," He said softly, still on top of her as she caught her breath.
"It's okay, Jungkook. A little warning would have been nice, but I understand." She tapped his arm to let him know that she could get up.
"I got you far enough back so that they can't see you." He helped her up.
"Thank you, Jungkook. I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she started to walk in the opposite direction of the men.
After successfully making her way over the back wall and away from the training ground, Yeona carefully made her way back to her house. Her dress was tucked away in her trainer’s office, and she was still in a men's hanbok that used to belong to her father's. She stuck to the alleyways and kept her head down, hoping no one would notice her.
"Did you fight a wild animal?" Kaira asked, watching her friend walk through her gate.
"Something like that." Yeona sat down beside her.
"I came by to see if you wanted to go to the market with me. But you were at the training grounds." She said, returning to her work, "I saw these swords that needed the cords put on them, so I decided I would do this to keep myself busy while I waited."
"I kept you waiting for a long time, huh?" Yeona asked as she looked at the six finished swords sitting next to Kaira.
"I've been waiting an hour," Kaira answered. "These are different from the ones you usually make."
"These are a custom order, and for some reason, I wanted to make them different," Yeona said, picking up the one with trees on the case, and the ribbon was a mixture of greens and browns. "The first day I showed up at the grounds, the owner had a couple of presents for me from my dad," Kaira stopped working and watched Yeona walk to her room and came out with a sword along with a bow and arrow set. "My dad was going to give me these as an early birthday present when they came back."
"They are beautiful." Kaira took the sword in hand, "Purple and blue butterflies. Remember when he came home and saw us jumping off the wall pretending to be butterflies?" Both women laughed at the memory, "Our moms got so mad."
"He started calling us his butterflies after that," Yeona said with a smile.
"Is this where you got the idea to do the swords?" Kaira handed her the sword.
"Yes, I'm not even sure why. But the more I thought about the customer, the more I wanted theirs to resemble mine in a way." Yeona ran her hand over the case.
"Maybe it's a sign," Kaira said, returning to attaching the cord.
"What kind of sign?" Yeona asked with a laugh.
"I'm not sure yet. But I am almost done here, so why don't you go get cleaned up and changed so that we can go." Yeona stood up, grabbed her stuff, and headed to her room.
Kaira kept an eye on her friend as she examined the jewelry and hair combs on the table in front of her. Yeona was a few shops down talking to one of the food sellers. Every month she would meet up with a few of them and put together and pay for a basket of stuff for the more impoverished families in the village. Both of their fathers were brought up on the poor side of the village. Kaira's father ended up working for and eventually becoming the town's magistrate. It took Yeona's father a little longer to get out. But once he was able to get his shop opened, he was able to move out. Like an act of fate, there was a house next door to the magistrates' house. Kaira's father and mother helped Yeona's parents fix it up.
At some point in time, Kaira's father forgot what it was like for the more impoverished families. Something that he didn't realize he’d done until after his friend passed. Yeona's father, on the other hand, never did. Just like his daughter, he would meet up with the food sellers and purchase food for families. Kaira remembered the first time she had seen Yeona and her mother going through their things to give away what they could. After explaining to her what they were doing, she ran home and grabbed some of her old things to give away too. As she grew older, she stopped giving away items and helping others. She became more focused on being a proper lady and learning how to be a good wife. Her father was the magistrate, after all. These things were expected from her. She envied Yeona. Coming from a lower-class family, she wasn't expected to act or dress a certain way.
Next Chapter>>
#BangtanWHQ#Kim Namjoon | RM/Original Female Character(s)#Kim Namjoon | RM#Kim Seokjin | Jin#Min Yoongi | Suga#Jung Hoseok | J-Hope#Park Jimin (BTS)#Kim Taehyung | V#Jeon Jungkook#Slow Burn#Slow Romance#Historical#Fluff#Fluff and Angst#Romantic Fluff#Alternate Universe#Minor Violence#Non-Graphic Violence#Prince Kim Namjoon | RM#Eventual Happy Ending#Romance#Action/Adventure#Adventure & Romance
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The thing about an armhole and a sleeve is that the arm moves. You draft a pattern that looks really good when the arms are straight down at the sides and then you can't lift your arms. If you make it so that there is enough fabric on the back of the shoulder that you can cross your arms, then there is a baggy bit of fabric when your shoulders are straight. If you remove the excess fabric so there is no baggy bit, you can't reach your arms forward. Plus the titties are right there next to the front of the armhole, distorting the shape, and sure, you can add a bust dart, but that's a whole extra step. Better to just make dozens of test shirts with slightly different armhole and sleeve shapes in hopes of finding a perfect middle ground.
#sewing#I think I need a specific tag for talking about my process projects rather than my fun weird stuff#but I am not sure what to go with so it is all in together for now#I am pretty happy with the shirt I made tonight#I have been trying to find an existing pattern that has already been graded up so that I don't have to do my own grading#but every time I make one there is something about it that feels wrong so I make 3 or 4 with tweaks#and then I have another pretty good pattern for myself that I would need to have graded#because it is so different from the original pattern#but I have no formal training and I don't start from a block#and all the tutorials online start from a block#I think I might just pay one of my friends who actually did fashion design to grade it for me#either that or I devote a month to learning either freesewing.org's system#or I pay for a subscription to clo3d and learn how to use that software#which I think can grade a pattern automatically but I am not 100%
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Thank you for the detailed reply! While we're on the topic, I also wanted to ask if you had some tips for painting galaxies, both generally (e.g. how to pick colours and structure) and in terms of watercolour technique. With watercolour, I struggle with getting the colours dark enough to actually look like a night sky and the gradients often become messy and look kind of like the pigments are cancelling each other out at the interface.
(cont) I might just have to invest in some intesely pigmented properly dark paints, but there's probably ways to get better results with my current set as well. I tend to not really do proper washes and mostly work in one or a handful of layers, so that's probably contributing to the less intense colours. I never really got any formal training and just trial and error'd my way through, so I'm probably missing knowledge on some really basic techniques
You're welcome! The follow up question makes me wish I'd made that galaxy tutorial I have been wanting to do for years but alas, no time. So I'll try to explain it.
There are two things that factor to this. One is that watercolour is a transparent medium so you typically don't get super intense colours or dark tones with them. Two, cheaper watercolours don't often have enough pigment to achieve what you have in mind.
What you described with the "gradients becoming messy" is what happens to me often, too. When you layer too much watercolour they become muddy and that is what you generally want to avoid. Because watercolour is a transparent medium it relies on having some of the paper white shine through to make the colour look vibrant/intense. So when you block all of that you lose the colour.
To paint a night sky or a galaxy in watercolours you can rely on relative colour a lot. For example, in this whale piece the darker areas look dark because what's around them is light.
The way I did this was by doing a very wet and light wash for the wave, mixing teals greens and blues randomly and just let the paint take the shape. The lighter areas around the whale are the first wash. The more detailed and darker bits were added on top and if you look closerly at the mid greens they're not really that dark but the lighter wash that lets some of the paper white show through makes it look more opaque and dark. The dark blues are just full pigment so they appear the darkest in value.
It's also good to keep in mind that what you see on the screen is not what it looks like in real life because your computer/phone screen is not a paper or a canvas. So don't let that fool you. This scan was enhanced so that it would look good on a computer screen.
One good way of avoiding overworking your piece and preventing the colours from turning muddy would be to build some kind of value scale you can reference as you work on your painting, just to remind yourself what does the darkest colour look like and what are the mid and light colours you can use.
It's really easy to overwork a watercolour piece and I do so constantly. I have started entire pieces over because of this but the internet never sees it.
Hope this helps!
#art tips#glueblade#art#watercolour#watercolor#watercolor tips#traditional art#traditional painting#ask#reply#artists on tumblr
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