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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

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🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

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It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again.

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance.

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him.

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

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kbsd · 4 years

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not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough.

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

#i typed this all up at 4am so i'm just scheduling it to post sometime today #ask #vid help

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betweentheracks · 4 years

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Updates//Recent Inactivity

Hello all! This is me finally taking some time to sit down and offer up a rundown on how life is currently going as a means of explaining my inactivity. This is a personal post that is guaranteed to be both rambling and emotional so if that is not your cup of tea, I understand and happily advise you just skip over this post as it is not relevant to the actual content this blog was intended for.

EDITED: After reading this back I now realize this is really just me spilling the tea on my own life and is laughably dishy in details which is extremely not my usual stance on my personal privacy. But idk, it was cathartic so I'm leaving it as is despite the urge to redact 70% of what I say.

I'll start with the good news that I am officially out of lockdown and have remained COVID-19 free since my return home from the hospital. This also means my son finally was allowed to come home to me which is dazzling and exciting and also a little terrible too. He's at a precocious age where tantrums are the cool way to communicate and having been gone for so long completely thrashing his established routine has caused friction. He came home and his parent was not the same as when he left; is much weaker and less energetic than before, paler and shaky - but also there's the addition of my best friend having moved in to assist and take care of me/him while we all do our best to muddle through.

The readjustment has been rough and a lot of this week has made me incredibly thankful to have practically zero memory of how I was as a child. There have been injuries: I have been whacked in the face with the metal cover for a floor vent while dozing on the sofa instead of paying rapt attention to whatever silliness he was showing off to me, there was his complete dismissal of me asking him to stay back and away from the hot oven as I pulled lunch from it's fiery jaws only to then be faced with a toddler quickly approaching with his hand raised to touch so I naturally made a move to block him and in the process I let go of the oven door which slammed upward and clamped my arm tightly between it and the inside cavern of the oven while it was set to a roasty 400 degrees Fahrenheit - earning me a mangled arm with burns of varying degrees, and then we also had that fit where it seemed like a much more grand idea to scale the babygate cordoning the stairs and I had to rush up them to stop him from tumbling face first down two flights and of course did the falling all on my own and did it backwards then slammed painfully into the wall of the landing. This all happened within a 48hr time frame and makes me wonder why I am so catastrophically inclined.

I have bruises that range the majority of my spine courtesy of the wall and stairs, two minor first degree burns on my forearm that are in the shape of an equals and quite large despite the lack of actual pain I feel from them, and the underside of my forearm was instantly blistered then popped then melted down into a horrid glob of skin mush and sticky red-orange and is a second degree burn that I have been assured is no real cause for concern as long as I tend it with care. In all, I managed to escape my momjuries relatively unscathed and with a child that was scared senseless at having hurt his momma and is quick to listen and never stops cuddling me in the time since. Here's hoping he isn't significantly traumatized from this since exactly none of this is especially his fault and is due to my clumsy, accident-prone status in life.

So yes, The Toddler has returned home to me and after some happenings we have settled and are happy. However, his blast from the past father has suddenly just decided to reemerge after more than a year of radio silence and static and has slapped me with a custody petition. Hooray. While I have no worries on this matter due to my mother working for one of the top custody lawyers in the state and snagging him as my representation, and the utter lack of competency on my estranged baby daddy's end clearly being displayed in literally anything and everything the idiot does/says, I do have to now go through the overhaul of a custody case and that is just so weak and exhaustive. Not to mention the basis of his claims that I am not fit to raise a child are founded in my health concerns and the crazy work schedule I keep; ironically, my health is making it so that I have much less insane hours and makes this fairly moot but to each their own I guess. Also worth noting on this matter is that he only did this now because he was recently placed under penalty for child support back pay and nothing in this world matters to him like his money and this is his special way of getting one over on me for tampering with his meager earnings. (He's a wannabe musician - the soundcloud rapper sort, just so we are all on the same page here). If I thought for even a second this was a genuine desire to be an active and stable parent I would be a lot less pressed to act in favor of making it legally binding that he can only see him under a supervisory condition and share time evenly, but it just is not believable in the slightest.

So the thing is - my health is actually quite dismal presently. I'm due in for open heart surgery on the 8th of April and until then I have been doing my utmost to mind all the nagging I get from doctors, PT specialists, the surgeons that will be slicing and dicing me, and my in-family medical practitioner that sometimes remembers he is also my brother and not just an MD. But like, you guys, this surgery is terrifying and technically is two surgeries rolled into one. They'll be cracking my chest open and then stopping my heart while they lift it from where it sits sweetly unhinged and lopsided in my body and very finely shave away some of the excess muscle that has built up around the wall of my heart as well as some unfriendly scar tissue that has lingered since my last surgery years ago. Granted there is no accidental slip that nicks my ugly gargantuan heart and renders me as good as dead, once this first part is finished the other surgeon will need to be deft and very quick to place this ventricular assisting piece in the valve that has all but given up on functioning altogether and do so in the time remaining before the time limit for my heart being essentially unplugged from by body is up, which would also feasibly mean my death. Lots of exciting and terrible sounding consequences, am I right?

Well let's bear it in mind that I am just below 30 in age and therefore not duly experienced in the realm of facing down my own mortality via making all necessary legal arrangements and managing my affairs and assets so that, in event of my untimely death, the custody case still doesn't stand a chance of snatching my son away to the sad misfortune of being raised by a man that has stated openly he only has interest in his kids so far as what they can do for him/get for him in terms of benefit and that he would be unwilling to be hypocritical and never deter his children from drugs and a lifestyle of extremely questionable moral integrity and hygiene alike. Eugh. But I also have had to make sure there is a DNR in place just in case things go wrong during the operation, my will has also been finalized and notarized, all my savings and financial/material assets have been squared away to come into my child's inheritance when he is of age and, most importantly, a document that states clear and direct instructions for him to be placed in care of my mother or, if she is unwilling or incapable, he will be under custodial order and guardianship of my best friend whom he has always viewed as a pseudo-dad anyway. Legally binding and even in light of the paternity petition this document supersedes parental right by way of the provided evidence I have submitted to prove a lack of parental credibility. That's right, I spent days lowkey stalking and sleuthing about to capture what I needed to show this man for what he actually is and I have precisely zero guilt or shame for doing it; this is my child on the line and that means momma doesn't have to play by the rules of snitches getting stitches or whatever other scary street rules he tosses at me as idle threats. (He's done this routinely for all the years I have known him, and it is somehow both pathetic and hilarious because he knows for a fact that, if I wanted, I could throttle him in less time than it would take for him to form a rational thought between his drug soaked braincells - I was also a person of less than savory character not too long ago and can handle myself very well. But I digress because I am losing my track of thought.

After the surgery I will have so damn much PT and rehab, all of which will be specific to varying parts of my body that will need to be reworked and strengthened. Weeks, months of it really. This surgery is major and hits heavy enough that I will be in the hospital for at least 10-14 days just recovering from it without taking into consideration any number of complications that could pop up. Hell, if they get in there and find a situation worse than they currently have an understanding of in the limited capacity of cardiology tech can provide of such a gnarled beastly heart and realize they can't really do anything with it after all, I'll be added to the transplant list. I think this is more daunting to consider than the surgery, honestly.

In that way that doctors have about them, I was "comforted" by being informed that this was an inevitability and I would have been faced with this in a matter of years - less than a handful actually - but the way COVID-19 chewed through me sped it up. I'm sure my years of substance issues were also very helpful in this endeavor, but either way I still am unsure whether I feel better knowing this or not? Mostly I think I feel conflicted and hopeful tempered with the caution of life being super shady in the ways it has often brought me to the doorsteps of dying in situations that seem like odd chance. I also am gifted with being so capable in jinxing myself that I brought myself to COVID-19 ("The way life is going I'll probably square up with Rona next week or some bullshit." Positive test flagged within the following week) and also into labor ("Watch me go into labor on Labor Day since that would be the sort of universal pun that would strike my bad penny having ass." Indeed hatched my youngling on Labor Day of that year) by saying some things within the scope of my bad humor that instantly manifested as reality so I'm not taking any risks here lol.

The gist is that life is really stirring up the winds over here and so I haven't been online and posting anything that would make my blog valid in a fat minute. I do apologize for this and also for the fact that this post took me nearly a week to type up, but when things calm a little I will be back in full. For the time being I will be sporadic and do what I can when I can!

Thanks to anyone that read this mess all the way here! And a big thank you to all of you still supporting me!

#racks chats #entirely too long and too personal

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saebyeog-i · 4 years

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what it feels like | pcy

“If this was a brave new world you’d entered with that thinly veiled declaration of love, you wanted no part of it.”

genre | you can send me your dental bill for this tooth rotting mushy fluff / internalized angst if you squint / this might be soft enough to not be considered solid matter / this sat on a shelf next to a soulmates au for five minutes

word count | ~1.8k (this! was! supposed! to! be! a! drabble!)

pairing | PCY x reader (this is actually relatively gender neutral without meaning to be?)

—

Someone once told you there were many different kinds of love, and many different important firsts beyond just a kiss or a date or sex. You’d kissed and fucked and wined and dined others in the past for plenty of different reasons that didn’t really matter, despite the notion that experiencing any of those firsts with someone who was not your one-and-only was often taboo in your world. Yet, you believed the words you’d once been told by a stranger you no longer remembered, and you held strongly to those ideals, because they grounded you— you found comfort in them, and they acted as a guiding light when you were otherwise wandering lost in the clouded haze of your own life.

The first time you realized that Park Chanyeol was the love of your life felt like a scene from a coming-of-age rom com more than it did a moment in your own life. It came after all those other firsts in your life had been experienced with different people over the last ten years, and it came on one of the otherwise most unimportant nights of your life.

In the months since you’d known him, you’d come to appreciate the different looks you’d witness in Chanyeol’s eyes. When he was deep in thought, focused on something, making a new piece of music or writing a new lyric or verse. When he was bursting with excitement, an extrovert on main, relishing the spotlight and attention from those he surrounded himself with. When he was quiet and calm, his eyes not giving away the thoughts firing through his mind (though those moments were fewer and further between than others— he’s a busy man, you know). He had what you’d come to call ‘galaxy eyes’— you could see the whole universe wherever he looked.

What had compelled you to stay with him well past a reasonable hour, into the middle of the night? To accept the invitation to close the ride share app you’d opened to take you home and instead settle into one of the stools lined up along the bar he’d built in the studio? To willingly take the glass of overpriced special edition Macallan scotch (a bottle you’d only ever seen in person before when locked in a glass case behind an unachievable monetary value for a single bottle of liquor) that he slid across the bar top towards you with a smile plastered on his face? To lift that glass up with a delicate grasp, knocking your knuckles against his and murmuring a ‘cheers’ as you both drank to everything at once and nothing at all?

What had compelled you to snort with laughter with him and exchange humorous stories of your awkward teenage years, to talk about your first crushes and the embarrassing things you’d done in your youth that you could both cringe and laugh at now that years had passed? To follow him when, at the end of the bottle, he’d said he had something important to show you? To wait patiently as he fumbled with the ring of keys to the building he spent most of his free time in— admittedly he spent more time here than in his own home— as he unlocked the door that lead up beyond the top floor? To take his hand as his long legs raced up the stairs to bring you somewhere he insisted he’d never shared with anyone other than Baekhyun or Sehun or MQ? To look out over the safety rails in wonder at the Seoul city skyline at well after three in the morning?

If you had to really narrow it down, it was the comfort he provided.

It was an accident, all of it, really— an accident that you even met, an accident that he broke your expensive prescription glasses and spilled your morning coffee, and an accident that he felt embarrassed and asked for a method to contact you so he could replace them. It was an accident that you even stayed in contact beyond the day you’d gone to his studio building to pick up the replacement pair he’d ordered, so that he could apologize again, profusely, in person.

You’d come to Seoul to get away. To run far away, to start over, to reset, because anything and everything you’d been looking for before was no where to be found in where you were.

And now you were here. And ‘here’ felt more like home than anywhere else in the years of your adult life so far.

It’d been six months since you met, and he’d slowly let you into more and more of his life as that time had passed. There was hesitation on both sides at first— he was still an idol, someone living a very public life, despite having been more senior in his career. You were still decidedly not famous, and had a constant nagging feeling about what was worth giving up of your own privacy in order to cultivate the new found friendship. Ultimately, the same reason you accepted each and every proposition he offered up that night was the same reason you’d stuck around this long: the comfort.

“You’re not cold, are you? If you’re cold, I’ll get you a coat—” He’d asked suddenly, after a prolonged silence shared between you on the rooftop. You shook your head softly, closing your eyes gently for a moment as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it from the cold, the alcohol you’d been consuming, or a response to his considerate question that got you? You weren’t really sure that it mattered. Maybe it was none of them, maybe it was all.

“How often do you come here?” You asked, diverting the subject.

He hummed thoughtfully, non-verbally agreeing to give you a pass on his first question despite the shiver he swore he saw run down your spine just now. His eyes never stayed on one point in the skyline for long. Like he was restless, impatient, searching for something. “Whenever I need to remember that I can still be small. Even after all these years, with all the people that know who I am… I can come up here and still feel small.”

His honesty spread a smile across your face, and you couldn’t help the laughter that erupted from deep within you.

“What? What’s so funny?” He pestered.

After the small eternity in relative stillness and silence you’d shared since ascending to the rooftop, you turned your head and looked straight into his galaxy eyes to respond. “Park Chanyeol, you’re might just be the biggest, grandest presence of a person I’ve ever had the fortune of meeting and knowing. But you’re also the softest and most sincere. If you want to be small, I promise I’ll forever see you as how you want to be seen. I promise to do my very best to see you as that and only that.”

Where did the proclamation even come from? Deep within your heart and psyche, that’s for sure, unearthed by the liquor and again the comfort, that pesky comfort you felt when you were with him; and you knew without the liquor and the comfort that proclamation would have otherwise remained buried. As you processed what you’d just said to him, your heart thrummed in your chest, and an awareness settled over you.

‘Oh,’ you thought, ‘This must be what that feels like. What it feels like.’

You knew you’d said the wrong thing as the moments between your words and his lack of a response ticked by, as the silence between you grew from a pause to a hesitation to a complete and utter blank stare looking back at you. Those galaxy eyes, the ones you’d grown to treasure, rendered completely unreadable by something you’d said. If this was a brave new world you’d entered with that thinly veiled declaration of love, you wanted no part of it.

You had to back pedal, to rewind the last two minutes and take it back, you couldn’t have him catch on—

“Shit,” he muttered out finally, running his hand through his slightly grown-out bleached hair.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You feel it too?” His words cut you off, and it took a moment to register what he’d just implied.

What was that feeling? ‘That’ ‘it’ you were just so sure you’d felt? Surely it wasn’t the foundation of everything you thought you knew shifting, of your heart gravitating towards that of another, of a sudden realization that the center of your world wasn’t the sun or a star or a physical place, but the space between you and another person?

“What… what do you feel? When you’re with me?” You asked softly, unable to look away from him despite the furious flush you wished you could hide.

And there it was again, erasing any fear or previous hesitation, reinforcing everything you’d felt that you’d been so sure you’d fabricated in your mind. That kilowatt smile, the sparkle in his eyes, looking like he held the whole world in his gaze when his eyes were on no one else but you. “I feel like I see my whole future by my side, and that I want nothing more than for them to feel the same.”

Would it be so bad? To take his hand?

“I—” you breathed out, words caught in your throat before they could even make their way to your tongue.

“You keep your promises, no? Didn’t you just promise me to see me how I want to be seen?”

He had a point. If you’d taught him anything about yourself these past few months, it’d be that you kept your word when you gave it. You sucked a breath in and bit down on the flesh of your mouth, chewing at the inside of your lip for a moment. How could you weigh every pro and con of allowing yourself to love the man beside you with your whole heart? How could you make such a choice in so brief a passage of time, to give in to everything your psyche had been all but screaming at you for at least the last month, if you really thought about it?

Anxiety made your heart race faster and faster as he waited for your response. Your eyes flicked down to see his hands gripping the guardrail in front of him, knuckles turning white as he steadied himself. And in that moment, you came to realize a different truth of not just the love of your life, but humanity in general: celebrity status aside, everyone deserved to love and be loved in return. You could only wish that everyone important to you could feel the way you felt when you looked in Chanyeol’s eyes.

Really, would it be that bad?

‘No,’ you finally thought, unable to stop the smile from spreading as you rose on the tips of your toes to meet your lips with those of the man who wanted to be reminded that even with the life he’d led so far and the path he’d chosen that he could still be small, ‘It wouldn’t be bad at all.’

—

author’s note | stream 1 Billion Views, steam Yours, be emo about them both because I sure as hell was while writing this.

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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 9 - "stay"

Season 9, episodes 23/24 "Angels" and "Demons" (the ones where Reid gets shot in the neck *cries*, while the team are chasing a guy - a preacher, to be precise - who was framed by the unsub. In the episode they will eventually find the real unsub)

Long ass one. Idk what nerve drives me to call these fics "shots" when most of em are +4000 words. Note: Reid always has long hair in my fics, regardless of the season I took inspiration from

As per usual: edited this months after I first wrote it. My fics are perennial works in progress

Read it on AO3

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"Blake!! " Morgan screamed with all his voice, running toward her and Reid as fast as he could - considering he got shot - pressing a hand on his wounded bicep.

One of his ears was beeping because of the gun shots - 3 out of 4 bullets hit his vest - and he was feeling light-headed from the fall. Not to mention the pain his arm was causing him. But in that moment, it was like his body had forgotten about the soreness and discomfort because his mind was only focused on Reid- no, Spencer. His Spencer.

"Blake-" he called her again, now that he'd got just a few feet from them.

He quickly fell down to his knees and put his hand on Spencer's neck, replacing Alex's. She moved aside without protesting, still sitting on the ground.

"I- I'm- I'm so sorry." she hiccuped on the verge of crying, shaking her head to dizziness while she looked down at her bloody hand; not sure if she was apologizing to Spencer or to Derek.

Morgan didn't answer, but not because he thought it was her fault: how could he? They all would take a bullet - and had taken bullets - to save each other. There was simply no time for apologies in that moment.

"We need an ambulance!" she repeated to her radio transceiver, even though at least 10 minutes had passed since she had first called for help.

"Alright- kid, you gotta stay with me now" Derek ordered, breathing heavily.

Despite the other's pleads, Spencer had almost completely lost consciousness; his mouth hung open, his eyes suddenly rolled back.

"No, nonono no" Derek panted loudly. "Baby please don't-"

His pupils desperately roamed his peripherals, searching for something with which he could pat Spencer's wound to minimize the blood loss, since clearly his hand wasn't enough.

"W-what do you need?" Alex asked, seeing Derek looking around aimlessly; but he seemed too spaced out to answer. "Talk to me Morgan, how can I help?!"

"I-I need something to pat the wound, I don't know some kind of cloth-" he said, panic possessing him.

The only thing Alex could think of, without having to go too far and waste anymore time, was Spencer's tie. She messily reached over, managing to snatch it from underneath his vest - though not without struggling - and untying it. She then slid it out of the collar of Spencer's button-up and folded it, having the hardest time accomplishing even such simple tasks with how bad her hands were shaking. She handed it to Morgan who, without complaining or questioning, placed it on the wound and started pressing again.

Spencer was slowly slipping on the ground from his half-sitting position, with his back leaning on one of the SUVs. Derek wrapped his free, not injured arm around him from under his armpit as securely as he could, and tried to lift him up a little, to help him breathe. He did his best, straining against his own pain and the pressure he had to keep applying on the other man's wound.

Luckily, that was enough to bring him back. Spencer swallowed intensely and gasped, before starting to mumble incomprehensibly. Derek kept both his hands firmly wrapped around his neck, to try and keep his head from hanging on either side.

"Ok this is good, keep your eyes on m- hey, eyes on me" he kept saying, trying to keep him awake; once, twice, dozens of times again and again and again like a mantra; only rearranging the words slightly each time; calling his name - Spencer, kid, baby, stay with me, don't, please, I need you here, come on-

Wait. Stop. Spencer looked like he was trying to say something.

"What? What is it, kid? Talk to me, say whatever- just whatever stay awake for me please" Derek begged him, his voice starting to get too shaky to handle. The ambulance hadn't arrived yet but, even though he had lost a lot of blood, Reid managed to stay somewhat conscious, which must have been a good sign: Morgan thought, trying not to let his mind go to dark places.

"I-" Spencer started to say something, then coughed.

He coughed blood. Everything Derek had been thinking to try and keep his hopes high went to nothing.

Derek started to feel sick. Sick like all the organs in his body were stuck in a million tight knots; and his lungs seemed slowly filling up with cement; and his eyes felt as if an uncountable number of needles were piercing through them; and his limbs were being crushed into ash by a hammer.

"Oh God..." Alex whispered; her brain was like electrocuted and rendered unable to come up with anything more to keep Reid awake than she'd already come up with earlier, while Morgan was still chasing the preacher before coming to help.

Spencer reached for Derek's arm with his weak hand.

"I- I love you-" he finally managed to murmur with a hint of a lopsided smile, as if relief had washed over him the second he'd let out those words. His eyes were open in mere slits, looking at somewhere around Derek's face with an odd glimmer that the other man couldn't quite place because he'd never seen before.

"No, don't- don't say that, c'mon yo-" Derek barely said, choking halfway. "-you can say that to me later, Spencer..." his words faded away, as he shook his head in denial and the first of many tears to come fell down his cheek. He shut his eyes close in the attempt to avoid that, pressing his forehead against Spencer's while trying not to lose the grip on his neck.

"Please stay awake, please, please, please..." he begged through gritted teeth, once his sobs had somehow managed to slightly quiet down.

Suddenly, from far away, the sirens of an ambulance could be perceived amongst a million other noises, seeped out by the two agent's ears because they weren't the ones that mattered in that moment.

Alex quickly hopped on her feet and jogged toward the side of the street, waving and screaming like a maniac at the ambulance to make it quicker for the medics to find them.

"You hear that?? The ambulance is here kid, you gotta resist just a little more alright? Can you- can you do that for me??" Derek straightened up a little and said, well aware that he wasn't quite talking to Spencer anymore.

The other man mumbled something, not as a sign that he understood what was going on, rather that he was hearing Derek telling him things, saying words, making sounds.

He saw the figures of two medics along with Alex walking fast toward them, carrying a gurney. One of them got down and took Derek's place in soccurring Spencer; the former couldn't find a valid reason to protest when he was frantically shoved away off of him.

"Agent, are you injured?" the other one asked, gathering that the blood splattered on his bicep was most likely his own and not the other man's.

"I-I'm fine, the bullet didn't even hit me it just scratched me- I'm not the one who needs help, please! And- wait he- he doesn't take narcotics, please that's REALLY important-" Morgan yelped in response, still in shock, finding difficult to even put his words together clearly.

She only seemingly ignored his continuous whining - albeit rightful - but in actuality took in all that information, quickly examining his injury.

"I see what you mean, you got lucky. Still, it could get infected, so you're coming with us right now." she concluded in a rush, immediately turning around to help her colleague lay Spencer on the gurney.

While hurrying toward the ambulance, Derek saw Alex getting back to Hotch and Rossi. Aaron turned around, his eyes met Derek's.

He nodded at him from afar, a look on his face that said: "do what you have to do."

- later at the hospital

Derek had been sitting on that uncomfortable chair for at least 2 hours, in the waiting room of the hospital.

As soon as they'd got off the ambulance, they had rushed Spencer to surgery: during the drive he'd lost consciousness completely and started mumbling things that made no sense, nearing aphasia. From the second they'd taken him to the OR, Morgan hadn't been able to say anything, shell-shocked and numbed down by his brain as a defense mechanism.

Earlier, while the nurse was bandaging his arm in the Emergency Room and kept asking if he felt any pain, if he had fallen and hit his head when he'd got shot, if he was feeling dizzy; he just nodded or responded "I don't know". She'd even asked him what had happened to "his friend" at a certain point, to try and catch his attention: was she even aware that she was talking to a profiler? He couldn't even remember if he'd effectively shown her his badge.

It was probably more than 2 hours, he thought when he saw Hotch coming in.

Morgan looked up at him, finally shifting his eyes away from the floor. He didn't say anything, barely able to stare at him with a confused expression.

"I can't stay long." Hotch stated.

Silence.

"...what do you mean?" that was probably the first actual, sensible phrase Derek had pronounced since he'd got into that damned hospital.

Aaron sighed. "The others wanted to come, but I can't let them get distracted from the case, so I came here to check on you in person. It's the only way I got them to agree to stay at the station and keep working."

Derek finally understood what he meant; the cogs in his brain processing the situation with a concerning delay. He arched his eyebrows and rubbed his face with his palm, as if something Hotch said had awakened him all of a sudden.

"I thought you were here because the case was over" Derek snorted, shaking his head in a silent self-scolding.

"I- I don't know how I could think that..." he added, hunching on himself with his elbows dug in his sore knees.

"How long have you been waiting here?" Aaron asked after a few seconds, shooting him a concerned and squinting glance.

Derek briefly checked his wristwatch. "Since midnight, I think."

It was almost 3 am.

Hotch knew he couldn't ask him to swap and go get some air while he stayed there; he would've never accepted and it was only understandable. Plus, it wouldn't do any of them any good: he would be stuck in the hospital while the team needed him on the case. But he couldn't just leave him like that, what kind of teammate would he be?

"Alright." he sighed deeply. "I'm gonna wait here with you." he asserted, sitting down next to him and picking out the phone from his pocket, to inform the others by text.

Morgan scowled, as his head shot up. "No Hotch c'mon, it's already bad that I'm not working, you- you gotta get back, I'm gonna call you whenever I know something anyway-"

"I'm gonna stay until he's out of surgery and I know you both are ok." Hotch cut him off, without an inch of reconsideration in his voice. "Cause you're clearly not thinking straight right now." he concluded, searching deep in the other man's eyes for some sort of outraged reaction to his accusation, even being well aware that Derek had to be told by someone. And Hotch always seemed to be the one designated for that role.

Morgan faced down to stare at the blue linoleum floor again. After some seconds, he nodded silently, gulping to try and make that lump in his throat go away.

He realized that type of reaction wasn't normal for him. It almost never, ever happened to him to corner himself within his own head and turn to silent mode, in these kind of situations. He was usually the type to remain lucid - of course heating up and pacing around restlessly and punching things and cursing through clenched jaws; nonetheless lucid : interacting with the things and places and people surrounding him, letting himself feel whatever he had to feel and letting other people see it. Acting like he was acting in that moment, that just wasn't him. That could be JJ at times or...or Spencer. His Spencer.

After another 20 minutes of waiting in complete silence - which were nothing, compared to the 3 hours Derek had already waited - the doctor entered the crowded room. And Derek didn't even notice.

He was still sitting, eyeing blankly at the portion of floor in between his combat boots. He couldn't hear anything but his paranoid thoughts, not even the general noise and buzz of people's voices - let alone the doctor's footsteps.

Hotch instinctively stood up from the chair.

"Morgan-" he said, tapping on his shoulder.

Derek looked up at him distractedly, raising his brows. Aaron pointed at the doctor approaching them, right behind him.

He immediately got up as well and turned around; once again taking a second too many to process what was happening. He started to feel all the pressure again, heart pounding in his chest to deafness, palms oozing sweat, the knot in his larynx forming once again - for the fourth time at least that night, if one had to keep count.

"How is he?" he asked impatiently, taking for granted that he was even...alive.

"He got very lucky. The bullet didn't hit one of the major arteries just by half an inch or so." the doctor answered, calmly and reassuringly. "The excellent job you did at minimizing the blood loss on the scene was surely a determining factor." he spoke directly to Derek now, smiling widely.

Relief washed over the two agents, whose shoulders slumped and lungs released audible sighs.

"Can we see him right away?" Derek questioned further, hopeful.

"Yes, absolutely, but you have to consider that he's lost a lot of blood and stayed unconscious for quite a while. So it might take him some time to wake up from the anesthesia. Plus, he has to rest well, of course."

"Thank you." was all Derek managed to say, with watery eyes and trembling voice barely coming out of his mouth - but he really did mean it.

Aaron shook the doctor's hand, equally thankful, and quickly picked his phone out of his pocket.

"I'm calling the others right now. You go." Hotch ordered with his usual firmness and loyalty, which he maintained even in such tense situations; giving him a complicit look.

Derek simply nodded in response, infinitely grateful.

He opened the door of Spencer's room quietly, having acknowledged that he was still sleeping.

It was early morning; a faint, cold-hued light filtered through the blinds of the window. Derek couldn't see much, if not the outlines of some pieces of furniture and - most importantly - Spencer's shape lying on the bed. And that was more than enough for the moment being.

A gasp hitched halfway to his lungs, and his heart started beating with such intensity it could crack his sternum open, and his eyes prickled with tears of joy.

Morgan quietly grabbed the chair in the corner of the room and placed it beside the bed. He wanted to hug him so bad, but couldn't bring himself to wake him up; so he just sat there for a while, looking at him, at how the dim light enveloped his peacefully sleeping features and created weird shadows on his wrinkled hospital gown - for a second, he couldn't refrain from realizing that he looked beautiful even in that sloppy piece of clothing, with his tangled mop of hair sprawled all over the pillow.

Morgan reached out for the man's hand to lightly stroke his knuckles with the pads of his fingers. As soon as he did that, a single tear managed to part from the puddle heaped up before his pupils and trail down his cheek, falling down to sink into the cotton fabric of the blanket; not sure if that was due to the relief of being able to sense the warmth of Spencer's hand, or just because he was exhausted; or both.

Derek figured he wasn't gonna wake up any sooner if he stared at him for hours: he gave in to the impulse of resting his temple on his folded arms, over the bed, careful not to touch Spencer.

And he fell asleep.

- 4 hours later (7 am ca.)

Spencer opened his eyes. He felt wobbly, like he was caged in a glass bubble, and his neck hurt like hell, for lack of a term powerful enough.

He looked around and saw Derek, sitting beside the mattress with his head resting on the bed, sleeping. A disarmed smile played at the corners of his lips: of course he knew he would find him there, but quite frankly he didn't expect him to fall asleep like that.

He reached out to him with a hand, a little shaky from the weakness, and gently caressed his cheek, not sure if he wanted him to wake up or not. After all, he had no idea how much - or how little - sleep he managed to get; still: he needed to hear his voice and see that smile of his as much as he needed oxygen in his lungs.

Derek startled awake with a gasp, straightening up in his seat and checking his watch. It took him a while to notice that Spencer's hand was what had woken him up.

Then he saw him.

"Spencer-" he whispered and instantly stood up from the chair to sit on the bed beside him, stroking his forehead with a thumb.

Spencer suddenly realized Derek's arm was bandaged.

"W-what happened to you?" were his first words, hoarse and cracky; as he tried to prop himself up a little to half-sit on the bed.

"Nothing baby, bullet scratched me. How are YOU feeling? D'you want water or something? Jell-o?" the other asked, knowing exactly Spencer had a thing for Jell-o, not hesitating to brush off his unmotivated concern.

"No I'm fine, just...you should get back to the case, actually." Spencer said half-heartedly as reality hit him all of a sudden, making his smile fade away. He wanted him to stay, but on the other hand he knew keeping him there was only gonna slow down the team. They needed him more than he did - or at least, that's what he was trying to convince both himself AND Derek of.

"Nope. Not happening." the other dismissed, with a tone that left little to no space for protesting. He took Spencer's hand, lacing their fingers together.

His boyfriend gazed at him with puppy eyes. He should have expected that.

Derek sighed, cocking his head. "A'ight, look. They've probably already solved it by now. Best believe Hotch would've called me if it was necessary that I'd be there." he explained, reasonably. The point he was making was enough to ease down some of the guilt weighing on Spencer's chest for wishing he would stay.

"Plus," Derek continued, reaching his hand out to comb his fingers through Spencer's entangled curls. "I wouldn't be able to concentrate much right now anyway, pretty boy." he smiled at him.

Spencer giggled; the weight of his guilt now completely lifted off of his heart by Derek's smile - the brightest he'd ever seen, even being well aware of how much that whole chaos from last night must have drained him out. Only his Derek could.

"Come here" he then whispered, opening his arms, ready to melt into his hug.

Derek didn't wait another second to lean closer and wrap his strong arms around his boyfriend's skinny, temporarily fragile body; tight but not too tight, afraid to hurt him. He'd wanted to take him in his arms since the moment he opened the door and saw him, alive, 4 hours before. He released a content sigh, burying his face into Spencer's warm neck, where his nose was being slightly tickled by that soft hair - as per usual.

Spencer gently kissed Derek's temple, ignoring the fact that in doing so he would've inevitably had to tilt his neck in a hurtful way. Indeed:

"Shit-" he whispered as he pressed a hand on his bandaged neck, scrunching his muzzle in a grimace of pain but somewhat amused at the same time: he wondered if it was gonna feel like someone was twisting his throat everytime he tilted his head as little as an inch.

Derek carefully let go of the hug and placed his palm over Spencer's; his eyes revealing guilt and regret for having complied his request to hug him.

"Fuck- sorry about that, kid..."

While the other man's gaze was concentrated on his bandaged wound, Spencer's pupils fluttered around his features, displayed a few inches from his face.

"It's nothing, just kiss me." he murmured like he was in a rush, like he hadn't even thought for a second before spitting it out like that. Which was something he usually did only when he said awkward stuff - only to receive the "Reid, wtf" signature look in response.

He placed a hand behind Derek's head and pulled him closer impulsively, risking their teeth to collide.

Derek was definitely not expecting the man's warm tongue to push into his mouth like that, forcing him to part his lips way more widely than if it were just going to be the quick peck he was initially expecting it to be.

He wanted to draw Spencer even closer, but figured placing his hand on his jaw or - even worse - on his nape, would make him flinch in pain again, so he opted to wrap him back in his arms; one draped over his shoulders and the other tight around his waist.

Spencer gradually slowed down and eventually stopped, struggling to breathe evenly. He opened his eyes to stare dreamily into Derek's; still tied in each other's arms to keep their noses 3 inches apart at most.

He smiled in a sweet, silly way and laid a couple of quick kisses on both corners of Derek's mouth, making him helplessly smile too.

"I love you." Spencer murmured against the other's grinning lips. He had enough time to place on them only a couple more quick pecks, before his boyfriend managed to untangle from his limbs and pull back a little, laughing at how fucking adorable he was.

As he chuckled and put a few more inches between their faces, the memory of Spencer saying "I love you" the night before flashed back into his mind for a second. The jarring difference in how that same phrase was pronounced in those two diametrally opposed contexts made Derek feel things, not quite sure what things. Spencer most definitely couldn't remember saying it - his near unconscious state from last night overpowering his eidetic memory - though Derek recalled mumbling something among the lines of "you can say that to me later"... Anyway, he pushed those inconclusive thoughts away before they could ruin such a precious moment.

"Alright, alright, I would've gone to get you that Jell-o even without all this, you know?" he said, betraying his feigned indignation when he couldn't resist placing one last kiss on Spencer's Cupid's bow. "Or is this your apology for scaring the shit out of me and making me cry like a baby? Cause either way, it's working. You really ARE a magician, huh" he winked jokingly.

Spencer giggled and rolled his eyes. "Come on, it's not about the Jell-o!"

Derek let go of him altogether and stood up from the bed, before mocking him yet once more.

"Yeah, whatever. Imma go get that Jell-o, you stay here." as if he could actually get up and walk around the hospital, duh...

Spencer dropped his arms on the bed, as a sign of complaint. "Seriously though, I don't want Jell-o right now I- I want you ! Even if you bring it to me it's gonna stay exactly wherever you put it!" he tried to convince him not to leave the room, blushing as a result of having let "I want you" slip out like that.

Even if what Spencer said and the tone with which he said it and the face with which he said it were persuasive to say the least; Derek already had his hand on the door handle by then. He opened it and turned around toward Spencer one last time before getting out.

"I need an excuse to get out of here or Imma eat you alive, so you better thank me." he concluded with a glare and a smirk, playfully pointing a threatening finger at his boyfriend before finally closing the door behind him.

Spencer sighed in resignation, slowly returning to lie down on the mattress with his head on the pillow.

He stared at the ceiling and covered his eyes with his hand, smiling from ear to ear.

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gargaj · 4 years

Text

A breakdown of the Revision 2020 Threeway Battle shader

Those of you who have been following this year's edition of Revision probably remember the unexpected twist in Sunday's timeline, where I was pitted in a coding "battle" against two of the best shader-coders in the world to fend for myself. Admittedly the buzz it caused caught me by surprise, but not as much as the feedback on the final shader I produced, so I hope to shed some light on how the shader works, in a way that's hopefully understandable to beginners and at least entertaining to experts, as well as providing some glimpses into my thought process along the way.

youtube

Recorded video of the event

But before we dive into the math and code, however, I think it's important to get some context by recounting the story of how we got here.

A brief history of demoscene live-coding

Visual coding has been massively opened up when graphics APIs began to introduce programmable fragment rendering, perhaps best known to most people as "pixel shaders"; this allowed programmers to run entire programmable functions on each pixel of a triangle, and none was more adamant to do that than a fellow named Iñigo Quilez (IQ), an understated genius who early on recognized the opportunity in covering the entire screen with a single polygon, and just doing the heavy lifting of creating geometry in the shader itself. His vision eventually spiraled into not only the modern 4k scene, but also the website ShaderToy, which almost every graphics programmer uses to test prototypes or just play around with algorithms. IQ, an old friend of mine since the mid-00s, eventually moved to the US, worked at Pixar and Oculus, and became something of a world-revered guru of computer graphics, but that (and life) has unfortunately caused him to shift away from the scene.

His vision of single-shader-single-quad-single-pass shader coding, in the meantime, created a very spectacular kind of live coding competition in the scene where two coders get only 25 minutes and the attention of an entire party hall, and they have to improvise their way out of the duel - this has been wildly successful at parties for the sheer showmanship and spectacle akin to rap battles, and none emerged from this little sport more remarkably than Flopine, a bubbly French girl who routinely shuffled up on stage wearing round spectacles and cat ears (actually they might be pony ears on second thought), and mopped the floor up with the competition. Her and a handful of other live-coders regularly stream on Twitch as practice, and have honed their live-coding craft for a few years at this point, garnering a considerable following.

youtube

Just a sample of insanity these people can do.

My contribution to this little sub-scene was coming up with a fancy name for it ("Shader Showdown"), as well as providing a little tool I called Bonzomatic (named after Bonzaj / Plastic, a mutual friend of IQ and myself, and the first person to create a live coding environment for demoparties) that I still maintain, but even though I feel a degree of involvement through the architectural side, I myself haven't been interested in participating: I know I can do okay under time pressure, but I don't really enjoy it, and while there's a certain overlap in what they do and what I do, I was always more interested in things like visual detail and representative geometry aided by editing and direction rather than looping abstract, fractal-like things. It just wasn't my thing.

Mistakes were made

But if I'm not attracted to this type of competition, how did I end up in the crossfire anyway? What I can't say is that it wasn't, to a considerable degree, my fault: as Revision 2020 was entirely online, most of the scene took it to themselves to sit in the demoscene Discord to get an experience closest to on-site socializing, given the somber circumstances of physical distancing. This also allowed a number of people who hasn't been around for a while to pop in to chat - like IQ, who, given his past, was mostly interested in the showdowns (during which Flopine crushed the competition) and the 4k compo.

As I haven't seen him around for a while, and as my mind is always looking for an angle, I somehow put two and two together, and asked him if he would consider taking part in a showdown at some point; he replied that he was up for it - this was around Saturday 10PM. I quickly pinged the rest of the showdown participants and organizers, as I spotted that Bullet was doing a DJ set the next day (which would've been in a relatively convenient timezone for IQ in California as well), and assumed that he didn't really have visuals for it - as there was already a "coding jam" over Ronny's set the day before, I figured there's a chance for squeezing an "extra round" of coding. Flopine was, of course, beyond excited by just the prospect of going against IQ, and by midnight we essentially got everything planned out (Bullet's consent notwithstanding, as he was completely out of the loop on this), and I was excited to watch...

...that is, until Havoc, the head honcho for the showdowns, off-handedly asked me about an at that point entirely hypothetical scenario: what would happen if IQ would, for some reason, challenge me instead of Flopine? Now, as said, I wasn't really into this, but being one to not let a good plan go to waste (especially if it was mine), I told Havoc I'd take one for the team and do it, although it probably wouldn't be very fun to watch. I then proceeded to quickly brief IQ in private and run him through the technicalities of the setup, the tool, the traditions and so on, and all is swell...

...that is, until IQ (this is at around 2AM) offhandedly mentions that "Havoc suggested we do a three-way with me, Flopine... and you." I quickly try to backpedal, but IQ seems to be into the idea, and worst of all, I've already essentially agreed to it, and to me, the only thing worse than being whipped in front of a few thousand people would be going back on your word. The only way out was through.

Weeks of coding can spare you hours of thinking

So now that I've got myself into this jar of pickles, I needed some ideas, and quick. (I didn't sleep much that night.) First off, I didn't want to do anything obviously 3D - both IQ and Flopine are masters of this, and I find it exhausting and frustrating, and it would've failed on every level possible. Fractals I'm awful at and while they do provide a decent amount of visual detail, they need a lot of practice and routine to get right. I also didn't want something very basic 2D, like a byte-beat, because those have a very limited degree of variation available, and the end result always looks a bit crude.

Luckily a few months ago an article I saw do rounds was a write-up by Sasha Martinsen on how to do "FUI"-s, or Fictional User Interfaces; overly complicated and abstract user interfaces that are prominent in sci-fi, with Gmunk being the Michael Jordan of the genre.

Image courtesy of Sasha Martinsen.

Sasha's idea is simple: make a few basic decent looking elements, and then just pile them on top of each other until it looks nice, maybe choose some careful colors, move them around a bit, place them around tastefully in 3D, et voilà, you're hacking the Gibson. It's something I attempted before, if somewhat unsuccessfully, in "Reboot", but I came back to it a few more times in my little private motion graphics experiments with much better results, and my prediction was that it would be doable in the given timeframe - or at least I hoped that my hazy 3AM brain was on the right track.

A bit of math

How to make this whole thing work? First, let's think about our rendering: We have a single rectangle and a single-pass shader that runs on it: this means no meshes, no geometry, no custom textures, no postprocessing, no particle systems and no fonts, which isn't a good place to start from. However, looking at some of Sasha's 3D GIFs, some of them look like they're variations of the same render put on planes one after the other - and as long as we can do one, we can do multiple of that.

Rough sketch of what we want to do; the planes would obviously be infinite in size but this representation is good enough for now.

Can we render multiple planes via a single shader? Sure, but we want them to look nice, and that requires a bit of thinking: The most common technique to render a "2D" shader and get a "3D" look is raymarching, specifically with signed distance fields - starting on a ray, and continually testing distances until a hit is found. This is a good method for "solid-ish" looking objects and scenes, but the idea for us is to have many infinite planes that also have some sort of alpha channel, so we'd have a big problem with 1) inaccuracy, as we'd never find a hit, just something "reasonably close", and even that would take us a few dozen steps, which is costly even for a single plane and 2) the handling of an alpha map can be really annoying, since we'd only find out our alpha value after our initial march, after which if our alpha is transparent we'd need to march again.

But wait - it's just infinite planes and a ray, right? So why don't we just assume that our ray is always hitting the plane (which it is, since we're looking at it), and just calculate an intersection the analytical way?

Note: I would normally refer to this method as "raytracing", but after some consultation with people smarter than I am, we concluded that the terms are used somewhat ambiguously, so let's just stick to "analytical ray solving" or something equally pedantic.

We know the mathematical equation for a ray is position = origin + direction * t (where t is a scalar that represents the distance/progress from the ray origin), and we know that the formula for a plane is A * x + B * y + C * z + D = 0, where (A, B, C) is the normal vector of the plane, and D is the distance from the origin. First, since the intersection will be the point in space that satisfies both equations, we substitute the ray (the above o + d * t for each axis) into the plane:

A * (ox + dx * t) + B * (oy + dy * t) + C * (oz + dz * t) + D = 0

To find out where this point is in space, we need to solve this for t, but it's currently mighty complicated. Luckily, since we assume that our planes are parallel to the X-Y plane, we know our (A, B, C) normal is (0, 0, 1), so we can simplify it down to:

oz + dz * t + D = 0

Which we can easily solve to t:

t = (D - oz) / dz

That's right: analytically finding a ray hit of a plane is literally a single subtraction and a division! Our frame rate (on this part) should be safe, and we're always guaranteed a hit as long as we're not looking completely perpendicular to the planes; we should have everything to start setting up our code.

Full disclosure: Given my (and in a way IQ's) lack of "live coding" experience, we agreed that there would be no voting for the round, and it'd be for glory only, but also that I'd be allowed to use a small cheat sheet of math like the equations for 2D rotation or e.g. the above final equation since I don't do this often enough to remember these things by heart, and I only had a few hours notice before the whole thing.

Setting up the rendering

Time to start coding then. First, let's calculate our texture coordinates in the 0..1 domain using the screen coordinates and the known backbuffer resolution (which is provided to us in Bonzomatic):

vec2 uv = vec2(gl_FragCoord.x / v2Resolution.x, gl_FragCoord.y / v2Resolution.y);

Then, let's create a ray from that:

vec3 rayDir = vec3( uv * 2 - 1, -1.0 ); rayDir.x *= v2Resolution.x / v2Resolution.y; // adjust for aspect ratio vec3 rayOrigin = vec3( 0, 0, 0 );

This creates a 3D vector for our direction that is -1,-1,-1 in the top left corner and 1,1,-1 in the bottom right (i.e. we're looking so that Z is decreasing into the screen), then we adjust the X coordinate since our screen isn't square, but our coordinates currently are - no need to even bother with normalizing, it'll be fine. Our origin is currently just sitting in the center.

Then, let's define (loosely) our plane, which is parallel to the XY plane:

float planeDist = 1.0f; // distance between each plane float planeZ = -5.0f; // Z position of the first plane

And solve our equation to t, as math'd out above:

float t = (planeZ - rayOrigin.z) / rayDir.z;

Then, calculate WHERE the hit is by taking that t by inserting it back to the original ray equation using our current direction and origin:

vec3 hitPos = rayOrigin + t * rayDir;

And now we have our intersection; since we already know the Z value, we can texture our plane by using the X and Y components to get a color value:

vec4 color = fui( hitPos.xy ); // XY plane our_color = color;

Of course we're gonna need the actual FUI function, which will be our procedural animated FUI texture, but let's just put something dummy there now, like a simple circle:

vec4 fui ( vec2 uv ) { return length(uv - 0.5) < 0.5 ? vec4(1) : vec(0); }

And here we go:

Very good, we have a single circle and if we animate the camera we can indeed tell that it is on a plane.

So first, let's tile it by using a modulo function; the modulo (or modulus) function simply wraps a number around another number (kinda like the remainder after a division, but for floating point numbers) and thus becomes extremely useful for tiling or repeating things:

We'll be using the modulo function rather extensively in this little exercise, so strap in. (Illustration via the Desmos calculator.)

vec4 layer = fui( mod( hitPos.xy, 1.0 ) );

This will wrap the texture coordinates of -inf..inf between 0..1:

We also need multiple planes, but how do we combine them? We could just blend them additively, but with the amount of content we have, we'd just burn them in to white and it'd look like a mess (and not the good kind of mess). We could instead just use normal "crossfade" / "lerp" blending based on the alpha value; the only trick here is to make sure we're rendering them from back to front since the front renders will blend over the back renders:

int steps = 10; float planeDist = 1.0f; for (int i=steps; i>=0; i--) { float planeZ = -1.0f * i * planeDist; float t = (planeZ - rayOrigin.z) / rayDir.z; if (t > 0.0f) // check if "t" is in front of us { vec3 hitPos = rayOrigin + t * rayDir; vec4 layer = fui( hitPos.xy, 2.0 ); // blend layers based on alpha output colour = mix( colour, layer, layer.a ); } }

And here we go:

We decreased the circles a bit in size to see the effect more.

Not bad! First thing we can do is just fade off the back layers, as if they were in a fog:

layer *= (steps - i) / float(steps);

We have a problem though: we should probably increase the sci-fi effect by moving the camera continually forward, but if we do, we're gonna run into a problem: Currently, since our planeZ is fixed to the 0.0 origin, they won't move with the camera. We could just add our camera Z to them, but then they would be fixed with the camera and wouldn't appear moving. What we instead want is to just render them AS IF they would be the closest 10 planes in front of the camera; the way we could do that is that if e.g. our planes' distance from each other is 5, then round the camera Z down to the nearest multiple of 5 (e.g. if the Z is at 13, we round down to 10), and start drawing from there; rounding up would be more accurate, but rounding down is easier, since we can just subtract the division remainder from Z like so:

float planeZ = (rayOrigin.z - mod(rayOrigin.z, planeDist)) - i * planeDist;

And now we have movement! Our basic rendering path is done.

Our little fictional UI

So now that we have the basic pipeline in place, let's see which elements can we adapt from Sasha's design pieces.

The first one I decided to go with wasn't strictly speaking in the set, but it was something that I saw used as design elements over the last two decades, and that's a thick hatch pattern element; I think it's often used because it has a nice industrial feel with it. Doing it in 2D is easy: We just add X and Y together, which will result in a diagonal gradient, and then we just turn that into an alternating pattern using, again, the modulo. All we need to do is limit it between two strips, and we have a perfectly functional "Police Line Do Not Cross" simulation.

return mod( uv.x + uv.y, 1 ) < 0.5 ? vec4(1) : vec4(0);

So let's stop here for a few moments; this isn't bad, but we're gonna need a few things. First, the repetition doesn't give us the nice symmetric look that Sasha recommends us to do, and secondly, we want them to look alive, to animate a bit.

Solving symmetry can be done just by modifying our repetition code a bit: instead of a straight up modulo with 1.0 that gives us a 0..1 range, let's use 2.0 to get a 0..2 range, then subtract 1.0 to get a -1..1 range, and then take the absolute value.

vec4 layer = fui( abs( mod( hitPos.xy, 2.0 ) - 1 ) );

This will give us a triangle-wave-like function, that goes from 0 to 1, then back to 0, then back to 1; in terms of texture coordinates, it will go back and forth between mirroring the texture in both directions, which, let's face it, looks Totally Sweet.

For animation, first I needed some sort of random value, but one that stayed deterministic based on a seed - in other words, I needed a function that took in a value, and returned a mangled version of it, but in a way that if I sent that value in twice, it would return the same mangled value twice. The most common way of doing it is taking the incoming "seed" value, and then driving it into some sort of function with a very large value that causes the function to alias, and then just returning the fraction portion of the number:

float rand(float x) { return fract(sin(x) * 430147.8193); }

Does it make any sense? No. Is it secure? No. Will it serve our purpose perfectly? Oh yes.

So how do we animate our layers? The obvious choice is animating both the hatch "gradient" value to make it crawl, and the start and end of our hatch pattern which causes the hatched strip to move up and down: simply take a random - seeded by our time value - of somewhere sensible (like between 0.2 and 0.8 so that it doesn't touch the edges) and add another random to it, seasoned to taste - we can even take a binary random to pick between horizontal and vertical strips:

The problems here are, of course, that currently they're moving 1) way too fast and 2) in unison. The fast motion obviously happens because the time value changes every frame, so it seeds our random differently every frame - this is easy to solve by just rounding our time value down to the nearest integer: this will result in some lovely jittery "digital" motion. The unison is also easy to solve: simply take the number of the layer, and add it to our time, thus shifting the time value for each layer; I also chose to multiply the layer ID with a random-ish number so that the layers actually animate independently, and the stutter doesn't happen in unison either:

vec4 fui( vec2 uv, float t ) { t = int(t); float start = rand(t) * 0.8 + 0.1; float end = start + 0.1; [...] } vec4 layer = fui( abs(mod(hitPos.xy, 2.0)-1), fGlobalTime + i * 4.7 );

Lovely!

Note: In hindsight using the Z coordinate of the plane would've given a more consistent result, but the way it animates, it doesn't really matter.

So let's think of more elements: the best looking one that seems to get the best mileage out in Sasha's blog is what I can best describe as the "slant" or "hockey stick" - a simple line, with a 45-degree turn in it. What I love about it is that the symmetry allows it to create little tunnels, gates, corridors, which will work great for our motion.

Creating it is easy: We just take a thin horizontal rectangle, and attach another rectangle to the end, but shift the coordinate of the second rectangle vertically, so that it gives us the 45-degree angle:

float p1 = 0.2; float p2 = 0.5; float p3 = 0.7; float y = 0.5; float thicc = 0.0025; if (p1 < uv.x && uv.x < p2 && y - thicc < uv.y && uv.y < y + thicc ) { return vec4(1); } if (p2 < uv.x && uv.x < p3 && y - thicc < uv.y - (uv.x - p2) && uv.y - (uv.x - p2) < y + thicc ) { return vec4(1); }

Note: In the final code, I had a rect() call which I originally intended to use as baking glow around my rectangle using a little routine I prototyped out earlier that morning, but I was ultimately too stressed to properly pull that off. Also, it's amazing how juvenile your variable names turn when people are watching.

Looks nice, but since this is such a thin sparse element, let's just... add more of it!

So what more can we add? Well, no sci-fi FUI is complete without random text and numbers, but we don't really have a font at hand. Or do we? For years, Bonzomatic has been "shipping" with this really gross checkerboard texture ostensibly for UV map testing:

What if we just desaturate and invert it?

We can then "slice" it up and render little sprites all over our texture: we already know how to draw a rectangle, so all we need is just 1) calculate which sprite we want to show 2) calculate the texture coordinate WITHIN that sprite and 3) sample the texture:

float sx = 0.3; float sy = 0.3; float size = 0.1; if (sx < uv.x && uv.x < sx + size && sy < uv.y &&uv.y < sy + size) { float spx = 2.0 / 8.0; // we have 8 tiles in the texture float spy = 3.0 / 8.0; vec2 spriteUV = (uv - vec2(sx,sy)) / size; vec4 sam = texture( texChecker, vec2(spx,spy) + spriteUV / 8.0 ); return dot( sam.rgb, vec3(0.33) ); }

Note: In the final code, I was only using the red component instead of desaturation because I forgot the texture doesn't always have red content - I stared at it for waaaay too long during the round trying to figure out why some sprites weren't working.

And again, let's just have more of it:

Getting there!

At this point the last thing I added was just circles and dots, because I was running out of ideas; but I also felt my visual content amount was getting to where I wanted them to be; it was also time to make it look a bit prettier.

Post-production / compositing

So we have our layers, they move, they might even have colors, but I'm still not happy with the visual result, since they are too single-colored, there's not enough tone in the picture.

The first thing I try nowadays when I'm on a black background is to just add either a single color, or a gradient:

vec4 colour = renderPlanes(uv); vec4 gradient = mix( vec4(0,0,0.2,1), vec4(0,0,0,1), uv.y); vec4 finalRender = mix( gradient, vec4(colour.xyz,1), colour.a);

This added a good chunk of depth considerably to the image, but I was still not happy with the too much separation between colors.

A very common method used in compositing in digital graphics is to just add bloom / glow; when used right, this helps us add us more luminance content to areas that would otherwise be solid color, and it helps the colors to blend a bit by providing some middle ground; unfortunately if we only have a single pass, the only way to get blur (and by extension, bloom) is repeatedly rendering the picture, and that'd tank our frame rate quickly.

Instead, I went back to one of the classics: the Variform "pixelize" overlay:

This is almost the same as a bloom effect, except instead of blurring the image, all you do is turn it into a lower resolution nearest point sampled version of itself, and blend that over the original image - since this doesn't need more than one sample per pixel (as we can reproduce pixelation by just messing with the texture coordinates), we can get away by rendering the scene only twice:

vec4 colour = renderPlanes(uv); colour += renderPlanes(uv - mod( uv, 0.1 ) ) * 0.4;

Much better tonal content!

So what else can we do? Well, most of the colors I chose are in the blue/orange/red range, and we don't get a lot of the green content; one of the things that I learned that it can look quite pretty if one takes a two-tone picture, and uses color-grading to push the midrange of a third tone - that way, the dominant colors will stay in the highlights, and the third tone will cover the mid-tones. (Naturally you have to be careful with this.)

"Boosting" a color in the mids is easy: lucky for us, if we consider the 0..1 range, exponential functions suit our purpose perfectly, because they start at 0, end at 1, but we can change how they get here:

So let's just push the green channel a tiny bit:

finalRender.g = pow(finalRender.g, 0.7);

Now all we need is to roll our camera for maximum cyberspace effect and we're done!

Best laid plans of OBS

As you can see from the code I posted the above, I wrote the final shader in GLSL; those who know me know that I'm a lot more comfortable with DirectX / HLSL, and may wonder why I switched, but of course there's another story here:

Given the remote nature of the event, all of the shader coding competition was performed online as well: since transmitting video from the coder's computer to a mixer, and then to another mixer, and then to a streaming provider, and then to the end user would've probably turned the image to mush, Alkama and Nusan came up with the idea of skipping a step and rigging up a version of Bonzo that ran on the coder's computer, but instead of streaming video, it sent the shader down to another instance of Bonzo, running on Diffty's computer, who then captured that instance and streamed it to the main Revision streaming hub. This, of course, meant that in a three-way, Diffty had to run three separate instances of Bonzo - but it worked fine with GLSL earlier, so why worry?

What we didn't necessarily realize at the time, is that the DirectX 11 shader compiler takes no hostages, and as soon as the shader reached un-unrollable level of complexity, it thoroughly locked down Diffty's machine, to the point that even the video of the DJ set he was playing started to drop out. I, on the other hand, didn't notice any of this, since my single local instance was doing fine, so I spent the first 15 minutes casually nuking Diffty's PC to shreds remotely, until I noticed Diffty and Havoc pleading on Discord to switch to GLSL because I'm setting things on fire unknowingly.

This is fine.

I was reluctant to do so, simply because of the muscle memory, but I was also aware that I should keep the show going if I can because if I bow out without a result, that would be a colossal embarrassment to everyone involved, and I only can take one of those once every week, and I was already above my quota - so, I quickly closed the DX11 version of Bonzo, loaded the shader up in a text editor, replaced "floatX" with "vecX" (fun drinking game: take a shot every time I messed it up during the live event), commented the whole thing out, loaded it into a GLSL bonzo, and quickly fixed all the other syntax differences (of which there were luckily not many, stuff like "mix" instead of "lerp", constructors, etc.), and within a few minutes I was back up and running.

This, weirdly, helped my morale a bit, because it was the kind of clutch move that for some reason appealed to me, and made me quite happy - although at that point I locked in so bad that not only did I pay absolutely not attention to the stream to see what the other two are doing, but that the drinks and snacks I prepared for the hour of battling went completely untouched.

In the end, when the hour clocked off, the shader itself turned out more or less how I wanted it, it worked really well with Bullet's techno-/psy-/hardtrance mix (not necessarily my jam, as everyone knows I'm more a broken beat guy, but pounding monotony can go well with coding focus), and I came away satisfied, although the perhaps saddest point of the adventure was yet to come: the lack of cathartic real-life ending that was taken from us due to the physical distance, when after all the excitement, all the cheers and hugs were merely lines of text on a screen - but you gotta deal with what you gotta deal with.

A small sampling of the Twitch reaction.

Conclusion

In the end, what was my takeaway from the experience?

First off, scoping is everything: Always aim to get an idea where you can maximize the outcome of the time invested with the highest amount of confidence of pulling it off. In this case, even though I was on short notice and in an environment I was unfamiliar with, I relied on something I knew, something I've done before, but no one else really has.

Secondly, broaden your influence: You never know when you can take something that seems initially unrelated, and bend it into something that you're doing with good results.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, step out of your comfort zone every so often; you'll never know what you'll find.

(And don't agree to everything willy-nilly, you absolute moron.)

#demoscene #live coding #livecoding #shaders #glsl #programming #gamedev #game development

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theboynoodlet · 4 years

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An Amateur’s 3D Creation Tutorial

Intro

Hi, it’s Kai Yuan, your resident 3D generalist of Noodlets Studio. I’m currently writing this while having a minor cold so I’m sniffling every 5 seconds while bopping to the range of Lady Gaga to Lorde to Conan Gray, stay healthy everyone! In order to make up for my apparent lack of dev logs, I’m going to show you how I create a little stove for Yi’s Eatery. All points made here are going to be super condensed for the sake of not running this article too long.

As with all of our tutorials, we are just amateurs having fun making games and sharing our experience as amateurs with you! :D

The Process

Step 1: Preparation

Always start with a plan in mind! I say that although I always start creating 3D assets with only 2 active brain cells half the time. Either way, you should still have a plan. This means first of all, gathering references of whatever object you want to create (even if you have a concept art to work off from) and beginning to understand your object’s form. With the stove I created, I used this particular reference image.

You can already see the similarities but these similarities help to sell the object as real. The closer the form of the object is to an actual reference in real life, the more believable it is even if rendered in a non-realistic way.

Once you have enough references and you start to slowly grasp the object you want to create, you should start pinpointing the basic shapes and forms of the object. In the example of the stove, it’s easy to notice that it has a cylindrical shape. Some objects have different components (EG: A car engine) and each component may have a different shape. It’s all about analysing your object and deepening your understanding of the object you want to create.

This preparation process doesn’t take too long for most objects, since a google search and basic shape knowledge is all you need. But taking the effort to prepare will save you a lot of blank staring at your 3D software.

Step 2: Modelling

Here’s where the nitty gritty starts to happen. I will preface this by saying that I frankly can’t show you the full process because you’d be reading this till the next day. We have a Youtube video on our Noodlets Studio channel where I modelled the stove on a livestream if you’re interested. In this article, I will just mainly share the important concepts for 3D modelling using the example of the stove.

The creation of all 3D objects follows the simple process of starting with big shapes and then slowly “zooming in” and editing the 3D object with increasing detail.

The above picture illustrates this concept of going from big forms to small details. This is where the knowledge from your preparation comes in. It really helps during the start when you have to block in your big forms. In the example of the stove, I start from a single cylinder and slowly build out the shape as shown in the picture above.

A few functions I like to use (in Maya) when adding in details are the “Bevel” function and the “Insert Edge Loop/Multi-cut” function.

These functions simply revolve around adding more edges/points to manipulate, which is the basis of how you add more details in your 3D object. More points = more details.

When you are adding details to your objects, you have to be mindful you are not adding too much details. Not every corner needs to be beveled and you certainly do not need to unnecessarily cut edges if you are not going to move/extrude them. More points = more details BUT also = more computational power used to render 3D objects. The art style of your game also determines how you model your 3D objects, some require low polygon counts to achieve a cartoon look, some require higher polygon counts to achieve a realistic look. Although, most of us generally prefer the former because it’s easier to do.

Step 3: Texturing

The next step after modelling your object is to UV unwrap it. UV unwrapping is the process of creating a UV map where a 2D image can be projected onto the 3D object’s surface.

In the example above, all the faces of the cube were laid out on a 2D plane, which then a texture can be projected onto the UV map and have it reflected on the 3D cube. This is merely the simplest example of a UV map, most UV maps are more complex and require a strong understanding of shapes. For example, this is the UV map for our stove that we created.

Most 3D software allow you to do UV unwrapping of your 3D models, although, you might want to look up a few dedicated tutorials first before jumping into it. This part of 3D modelling is easily one of the most frustrating and difficult parts to understand as there is 0 creativity involved, just pure brain power. :(

Once your 3D model is fully unwrapped, now you want to actually texture it. The simplest way of doing this is to export your UV map into Photoshop or any painting software of your choice and simply paint on it. However, there are a few caveats to take note of. You cannot physically see how your painting affects your 3D model without exporting the texture out into your 3D software. Thus, editing your texture map will be a long arduous process of importing and re-exporting.

In order to circumvent this, we can use dedicated 3D texturing software like Substance Painter which lets you see how your texture is reflected on the model itself. It has the further advantage of allowing you to further enhance your texture with some neat tricks. With a normal map, it will create the illusion of details on a flat surface.

These maps can actually be hand painted in Photoshop, but everything is packaged together in a 3D texturing software like Substance Painter so it’s easier to implement all these details.

Step 4: Finalising

Once you got your textures ready, now it’s time to bring it all together! If you are creating a game, you would bring this into your game engine like I did. Or you could also keep it in your 3D software and render it, but that’s a whole other bag of worms.

For the video you saw on our socials, I just slammed a quick backdrop and gave it some lighting to bring out the details of the stove and the final result is as you have seen before.

That’s about it for my tutorial. I hope I have given you an insight into how 3D game objects are created, even if you are just a random passerby. For actual 3D artists out there, hopefully your eyes didn’t burn too much, I’m still trying to get better and I hope to create better 3D models in the future.

Thanks for reading this! My cold has slightly healed while writing this article, remember to stay safe out there! :D

-Kai Yuan

#noodlets #tutorial #article #kai yuan

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

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WTF is Cats About?

ralbert and cats the musical :)

warnings: none, cept cats the musical (if ur a cats stan, i swear im not making fun of it,,,,just,,,,,cats)

ship: ralbert

word count: 1577

editing: no lmao...CATS

Albert likes to think he’s gotten used to all of Race’s funny quirks and little habits. He’d long since given up on getting him to stop biting his nails and the whole twirling his hair while he relaxes thing is pretty endearing. But there are some things that still surprise him.

Like his utterly amazing habit of withholding big life changes until they’re glaringly important and then announcing them as if he’s commenting on the weather.

Which is why Albert basically spits his tea all over his laptop one morning when Race announces he’s been cast in the fucking Broadway revival of Cats.

Fucking Cats.

Albert doesn’t even know what Cats is about. Not that he’s ever really had the desire to know. The whole show is a little too...furry for him.

It had been a mild Sunday morning up until then. The sky was clear and blue and the sun rays hit just right on their bed, waking them up, but not disturbing them. They’d lounged around for a few hours, switching between lazy morning cuddles and tiredly making out. Life since moving to the City together had been exhilarating. The freedom they’d once yearned for so heavily was finally at their fingertips, lending them the time to focus on their dreams and basking in the post college glow of their early adulthood.

Race worked at the local pizza joint when he wasn’t auditioning for whatever he could find casting calls for (which apparently included fucking Cats the fucking musical). It was a good gig for him; it kept him busy and entertained. Something Albert struggled to do single-handedly.

Albert on the other hand worked at a dingy mechanics shop a few blocks away, fixing up old cars on the side while working his way through the prestigious culinary grad program he’d somehow managed to get into. All in all, they were doing well for themselves as 24 year olds living alone in New York City.

Somehow, they’d managed to drag themselves out of bed and into the kitchen, where Albert fixed them a modest breakfast of omelettes before docking at the counter to sort through some emails.

Race was sitting next to him, absentmindedly petting Chips, their orange tabby, when he states, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert pauses mid-type, glancing up at his boyfriend, who’s still intently looking at Chips, running his hand down the length of his back, “You what!?”

Race takes a deep breath, then repeats, “I got cast in the Broadway revival of Cats.”

Albert’s been rendered speechless by Race plenty of times in his 6+ years of knowing him. But he’s never felt quite as...dumbfounded before.

“You got cast...in Cats?” He asks slowly, before shaking his head and backing up, “Wait, no, hang on, hang on...you auditioned for fucking Cats?”

Race ducks his head, a blush forming under his collar and around his ears, “Uh, yeah, I meant to mention it...but it never came up?”

Albert blinks again, “Who- what- what even is Cats?”

Race goes to answer, then closes his mouth hastily, “I don’t...actually really know…”

“How don’t you know? You’re in the damn show!”

“I was only just cast! I don’t know it that well yet!”

Albert makes a choked noise, “Okay, but you should at least know what the fuck the show is about if you went through a damn audition process- wait, when was this even happening? What- I’m so confused right now...my fucking boyfriend got cast in a Broadway musical- FUCKING CATS- and I didn’t even know he was auditioning.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” Race says, looking alarmed at Albert’s impending Cats- induced mental breakdown. Chips gives an annoyed meow at the lack of attention being bestowed onto her and leaps off the counter, trotting away to find Queso, their golden doodle.

“I mean, you’re not entitled to tell me everything about your life, just...wow, I mean, this is big,” Albert scrubs a hand down his face, “I didn’t do anything to make you feel like you couldn’t share this with me, did I?”

Race’s face softens, “No, of course not, Albie,” he sighs, reaching across the table and linking their hands together, “I just got caught up in everything...sometimes things just feel so busy and overwhelming and I like to process it alone before letting other people in on it.”

Albert squeezes his hand, “That’s understandable,” he smiles, bending down to kiss his knuckles, “And congrats! I’m so proud of you! I mean, fucking Broadway...my boyfriend’s gonna be on Broadway.”

Race beams, “Thanks.”

“We have to celebrate,” Albert concludes, “I’m calling Spot and the others. You better not have work tonight, ‘cause we’re going out for drinks.”

Race shakes his head, bemused, as Albert pulls out his phone to text their group chat.

“Fucking Cats…” Albert murmurs as he sends the text, “Fuckin’....Cats.”

XXX

“Can you say that your bite is worse than your bark? Are you cock of the walk when you’re walking alone? Because jellicles are and jellicles do, jellicles do and jellicles would, jellicles would and…”

Albert freezes in the doorway to their apartment, slowly closing the door behind him as he strains his ears. He follows the sound of the weirdly tempoed music to the kitchen, where Race is bopping around by the microwave, reheating last night’s dinner of chicken curry.

“Hey,” Albert calls, setting the groceries on the counter.

Race glances over, flashing Albert a smile and turning down the music a few notches.

“Hey, yourself,” he says, pulling his bowl out of the microwave and stirring it a bit with a fork to cool it down.

Albert crosses to him, pecking him on the lips quickly and grabbing a glass for water.

“Jellicles can and jellicles do, jellicles can and jellicles do…”

Albert wrinkles his nose, “the fuck even is a jellicle?”

Race shrugs, shoveling a forkful of curry into his mouth, “Dunno, some type of cat? Google it.”

Albert hums, “So this is Cats then? Interesting music.”

“I know, it’s kinda weird,” Race says, perching at the counter, “But it grows on you. Rehearsal started today, so…”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Albert places his glass in the sink and leans against the counter, “How’d it go?”

“Pretty well, I made a few friends,” Race says, “Jojo’s in it.”

Albert smiles, “No kidding! That’s crazy.”

“Right? I didn’t even know he was auditioning!”

“Seems to be the trend with this show.”

“I get it, I get it,” Race rolls his eyes, looking a little guilty.

“Jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle cats, jellicle songs for jellicle…”

“If they say ‘jellicle’ one more time I’m going to shoot myself,” Albert growls.

Race whips his head up, eyes slightly wide, “Oh, honey, you are not going to make it through this one…”

“Fantastic.”

XXX

“Hey, Race, have you seen my- WHAT THE FUCK!”

Race turns away from the bathroom mirror, fixing Albert with an innocent look.

“Have I seen your what?” He asks.

“No,” Albert says, pointing a finger, “First answer what the FUCK happened to your face.”

Race turns back to the mirror, dabbing some more orange cream foundation around his eyes. Disturbingly, Albert notes that his makeup design looks very similar to Chips.

“Gotta do our own makeup for the show,” Race answers, padding a generous amount of setting powder around his face, “I’m practising.”

“Right…” Albert rakes his eyes over Race’s features. So far, the makeup only spans on his face and down his neck a little, “What else does your costume entail exactly?”

Race grins wickedly and Albert swallows.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

XXX

“Do you like my tail?”

Albert slowly closes his book, praying for strength as he looks up. Race is standing by the doorway, rehearsal bag dropped at his feet. His face is smudged- like he tried and failed to clean off all the layers of his meticulous cat makeup. He’s dressed normally in adidas workout pants and a random t-shirt from a color run they did years back. Protruding (Albert doesn’t wanna know how, but alas) from his backside is an orange tabby cat tail.

“Did you choose to be the same kind of cat as Chips? Or was it some sort of creepy coincidence,” Albert deadpans, refusing to look at the tail longer than he has to and keeping his eyes fixed on Race’s face.

Race’s smile drops a fraction of an inch, “Wait, it’s weird that I chose to be her breed?”

Albert groans and picks back up his book.

XXX

“Congratulations!”

Albert is met with a faceful of Race’s blond curls as the cast comes swarming out of the stagedoor. He smells like makeup remover and sweat, but Albert doesn’t care as he kisses him, pride swelling in his chest.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the exhilarating feeling of seeing Race shine onstage.

“Thanks!” Race looks high on adrenaline and Albert never wants that light to leave his eyes, “What did you think?”

“You were so good! Everyone was! And the music was all better than I first thought it would be,” Albert said, playfully swaying them back and forth where they stood, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Race, “Just one question.”

Race cocks his head, “what’s up?”

“What the fuck is Cats about?”

Race tips his head back and laughs, “I still have no fucking clue.”

the word ‘cats’ doesn’t even sound real anymore and i think that’s fitting

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

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#newsies #newsies fic #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #ralbert #Cats on Broadway #FUCKIn #cats #...#sdkjalfkjs #OK #yell at me

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foxwatchesanime · 4 years

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How I stopped caring about comments: A rambly post by me

This is rambly so hold onto your seats, I apologies.

I’ve been thinking a lot about comment/review culture in the last few months, particularly after returning to a brand new fandom as a writer and regular content creator. Maybe this is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, maybe not, but I wanted to share my thoughts on the way I perceive comments, how it’s changed for me since I’ve been in fandom and I’d love to hear from other people what their opinion is and how they relate to comments on their work.

I’ve been creating content in fandom spaces for about eleven years now. I started out on YouTube when I joined my first fandom, Merlin, and I made my first fanvideos in 2009. In December of 2009, I published my first fanfiction, plus one sequel which remains unfinished as well as a few other smaller projects. In October of 2010, I published my first podfic and would go on to publish two more. My focus in fandom had always been YouTube, where I regularly created fanvideos. My schedule was never consistent, as with most vidders back in the day, but I’d be comfortable in saying I posted regularly discounting three unintentional hiatuses, one in 2013 following the Merlin finale, one in 2015 probably due to a lack of inspiration and one in 2017 after what I was sure was going to be my permanent comeback to YouTube, only for my hard drive to break and delete all my footage yeeeeeey.

I’ve now made an actual, official return to my original platform, this time creating videos for my new passion and fandom: anime. Since February of 2020 I’ve also been regularly publishing fic and have no desire to stop doing so. I’m thoroughly invested in new fandom spaces again and am engaging with its fans and the content.

But the one thing I have seen change drastically in my approach to things is commenting, following and general engagement.

Let’s take a step back.

When I first started posting content, comments were not something I even had in my consciousness. I think I knew YouTube comments existed, but I didn’t really pay attention to it. I didn’t even know what subscribers were until I started hearing other people talk about them and then I suddenly felt like it’s something I should be keeping an eye on myself.

In a centuries old vlog of mine that is now private on my channel, I noticed that when I hit 100 subscribers, I made a video thanking everyone because I was so excited that with more subscribers, I was going to “make more friends.” Oh dear xD

But the truth is, I have been consistently and chronically bad at keeping up with or caring about the analytics of my various platforms. It wasn’t till writing this post today that I went to check my FF.net account to see how many comments my first two Merlin fics ever got. I still couldn’t tell you my exact number of YouTube or Ao3 subscribers, how many hits or kudos my fic have and I don’t think I’ve ever checked my bookmarks for notes, or whatever you’re able to leave on there.

Commenting culture on YouTube, for all my joking earlier, was primarily about connection, at least back then. Most of the old guard have moved on and those who have remained are now vidding in other fandoms. The social aspect of YouTube in my opinion has changed dramatically since I was at my peak output on there, but I remember how interactive the comments sections used to be. They literally were, where you made friends.

A couple of years ago, me and a friend of mine started a Merlin podcast called Merlisten. We created it for fun and without many expectations of what might come out of it. And it was this that changed my relationship with commenting for good.

Doing Merlisten felt, for the first time in a long time, like pure creativity and passion without anyone’s permission. We always encouraged people to leave feedback as one does, but I don’t think either of us expected to get much, if any. Even considering the incredible support we’ve received with feedback coming in almost every single episode now, there is still a clear and overwhelming gap between the amount of comments given to an episode of Merlisten, to one of my old fanvids or fics. It’s even more interesting when one considers how much more effort and time went into creating Merlisten compared to say, editing or writing, at least for me personally. The amount of man hours spent on creating one 2.5 hour episode from pre-production to final posting often outweighs any other video or chapter I’ve created. Not always, but often.

What struck me as interesting, however, was that even though comments weren’t always consistent and I always love and continue to love reading them, it’s not what was fuelling me to work hard on this project. I was doing it because I adored it and I knew it was something I was proud to put into the world.

And that literally changed everything.

I think for a long time, I was always trying to cater my art to what might get the most attention or please the widest demographic of people. It’s how you think when you’re young and you don’t know any better. But for the first time, I was creating something on my own terms that I had no idea if anyone would even listen to and the actual creative process of making said art was ten times more rewarding than any single comment I could ever read. Which really, what I realised, is what art is supposed to be. I can safely say that if Merlisten didn’t get a single comment from here on in, I would still want to see it to its conclusion for one very simple reason: Because I had something to share.

This brings me to my recent return to writing fic in fandom and it’s not a decision I’ve regretted for a second. More than anything, I’ve realised how personal art can really be, especially when it’s in writing. I’ve found it revealing and cathartic and fascinating in a way that I didn’t ever imagine.

But more importantly, I’ve realised that the real beauty for me in engaging in art is the ability to get an emotional response from it or to relate to it. And that goes for both other people’s work and my own. I can feel just as invested in my own work as someone else’s and that’s not because I think my work is amazing, it’s because I know it’s come from something that was living in me. When I put something out there that I made with my own two hands, that feeling now trumps any sort of feedback I could possibly get and that’s the endorphin I live off.

Don’t mistake this for me not liking comments, that’s obviously not true. My brain gets the same dopamine hit as anyone’s when I get a notification for something or other, but I’ve realised that I have a very specific relationship with comments that I definitely didn’t have before, if my requests for review on FF.net is anything to go by.

Now, what I find exciting and thrilling is the thought that, if writing this fic got this sort of emotional response out of me, the writer, I wonder if there are other people out there who think the same way I do? Who have a similar way of experiencing joy or suffering or humour or who like the same things as me? That, is an insanely invigorating feeling. And then when someone chooses to take time out of their day to tell you that what came from your head is the same sort of way they feel about life? That’s not a comment, that’s not feedback, that’s a connection you have with another person. And that’s where I start to get excited. And it’s taken me this fucking long to realise it.

Honestly, I was really worried upon returning to writing and vidding this year that my experience working in digital marketing, where everything is about numbers and social media is all about engagement and nothing else, that I would be overwhelmed and not be able to switch off the part of my brain that’s been trained to think like that. I’m so relieved that that’s not the case.

As previously mentioned, I suck at giving a shit about analytics and looking at my own stats. I couldn’t give a flying fuck. But I did just go and check my YouTube videos since returning back to vidding. Not a single one of them has views over 200 at this point. Most have less than 100. My most viewed video on YouTube has 57,000 views. And the thing is, there might have been a time when I looked at that and thought, well, this means I suck. This means I can’t make art. This means there’s no point to it.

But no, that's not true.

The point is not how many people see it, how many people like it, how many people comment on it. The point is that I made it. I’m going to continue making YouTube videos despite the fact that the algorithm will destroy any chances they have at getting engagement or views. Even if not one single person comments on them. Because when I’ve finally rendered a new video, or finished proof reading a new chapter, I feel so fucking happy that everything else is just window dressing to me now.

Because not only is online engagement and following such a stab in the dark these days anyway with algorithms changing and trends moving constantly, but this is the real truth about comments, following and feedback:

The truth is, I don’t need a stranger on the internet to praise me so that I can feel good about my art. The day that I start doing that, I’ve already lost. I used to think that way on a regular basis. Guess what, it didn’t make me produce better art. It didn’t make my life better. Because being validated by others never does. It doesn’t matter how many keysmashes I might get or how many sonnets or kind words, because If I don’t like what I create, there isn’t a single human being on the planet who will make me like it, no matter what they say or how they say it. For others, this might not be the case. But this is my reality.

I know this, because I recently speed-wrote and published a fic for a fanweek. I wrote 13k in about 8hrs. So far, it’s received nothing but positive words. But it doesn’t matter. After I published it, I had a crisis about how it wasn’t good enough, that there should have been an extra arc, that it ended too quickly, that there wasn’t a climax. Even as the comments came in, it didn’t change my mind. Because other people’s comments will never really lead to fulfilment.

I want you all to know that I get emotional over every single comment that is sent to me. Every personal story, ever keysmash and heartfelt thoughtful message that took the time to analyse my work. Connecting with you guys has been one of the biggest joys of entering this fandom. But it’s not going to be what fuels me to create and to carry on doing the best work I can. All I can do is treat it as the wonderful privilege that it is, and not any part of the reason I do it.

In conclusion:

Finally, at age 27 and in the midst of enjoying fandom after a very long period of being either meh about it or lurking, I finally feel content with the fact that I want to create in order to put things out into the world that I worked hard on, that I’m passionate about and that hopefully, in whatever way it might be, it might have touched someone who feels the same things too. It makes me feel accomplished, it makes me feel like I might be contributing something small to the world and it makes me feel like maybe one other person was made happy by it. And even if they never tell me that and if no one else ever comments on what I create, or even if they comment on it in spaces that I never see; private servers, chats between friends or blogs that I don’t follow, that’s also fine. Because there’s always at least one person who is going to feel happy that she made something. And that’s me.

The short version: I never used to care about comments, then I did, and now I no longer do.

Sorry for the ramble, but I wanted this here for myself to look back upon in case my opinion ever changes on this or I ever start to lose my way again and feel overwhelmed. I’d love to hear your guys’ experiences with this sort of thing and whether you’ve ever felt bogged down by the need for feedback.

#writing #fandom #vidding #essay #personal

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khdiscussions · 6 years

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Sleeping Realms Theory Rebuttal

Somebody was kind enough to leave some SparkNotes, so let’s get started on discussing the Sleeping Realms theory since I still don’t really have the time to read it. Might as well.

Since this is based on SparkNotes, I might be missing several key pieces of evidence, feel free to discuss my agreements and disagreements, maybe prove me wrong, now that I have some idea I’m at least more open to discussion.

Edit: Read the Liveblog here now that I have read it.

The guardians died in the real timeline, which we all saw

No comment. Definitely happened in KH3. Nothing to say.

Xehanort succeeded using princesses (and thus Kairi) so Kairi survived and used her power to keep Sora together in the afterlife (which we saw)

So far you got me on this. Didn’t know this needed clarifying but the Final World stuff was a bit ??? confusing.

Sora, from the afterlife, got everyone together and brought them not to life, but to The Sleeping Worlds, cause death and sleep touch.

Okay so now you’ve lost me for a few reasons. While yes it is the case that sleep and death touch (Re: Chirithy) I don’t necessarily think that’s what happened. In order to be in the Realm of Sleep, a world must have fallen to Darkness, not just one, but every single world that Sora and co. visited after being revived. Since Xehanort would’ve needed to find and gather the seven new princesses and then challenged them (a task I’m sure Yen Sid would’ve made as difficult as possible by summoning and moving around the princesses) this could not be an immediate process, meaning that he would not have been able to send the worlds into the Realm of Sleep in the brief amount of time Sora spent in the Final World gathering himself up and rescuing the others from the Lich (Which would have had to have been brief because otherwise their souls would have fully passed on).

Furthermore, the Keyblade Graveyard isn’t in the Realm of Darkness yet, I know it looks pretty dark but like...it can be accessed by the Gummi Ship. As Goofy said, the Gummi Ship is only required for access to the Realm of Darkness.

The final point of question is Aqua herself. Rescuing Aqua is a huge deal in the game itself and you do it in the Realm of Darkness. The Realm of Darkness cannot be accessed in the Realm of Sleep because the location cannot fall into the Realm of Sleep It doesn’t make sense for them to be able to go there to rescue Aqua if she’s in the Realm of Sleep. Which I guess wouldn’t be necessary if they only come back in the Keyblade Graveyard, but we’ll address that point later when the timing of the drop comes up.

Because Kairi is still in the real world, the Kairi we see is a dream version - it's why her hoodie has Chirithy ears.

First of all, I do not like this idea. It means we haven’t had a game that actually had Kairi in it in four games. And that’s offensive on so many levels because it means she literally doesn’t matter and no.

But even from a non shitty standpoint like that, there’s still evidence against this, in KH3, we see Kairi in her KH2 attire.

When she’s talking to Lea. Furthermore, we know her outfit was designed and given to her by the Fairies and Yen Sid. Yen Sid even tells Riku to bring the outfits they designed to Lea and Kairi in the cutscenes prior to this.

And we’ll talk about why the drop doesn’t happen in the Keyblade Graveyard later. Because yes, in technicality, the drop could have occurred in there, hell it’s hard to notice her cat ears in the outfit in the scene where her outfit is first revealed (at least in the trailer), but that’s not quite what claims the theory is making.

Riku "drops" early on, which is why his hair changes to his Dream Eater hairstyle.

And here’s the first conflict of interest. I’ll compare the renders in a minute, but if we assume Riku drops before the scene he interacts with Sora (which he does, he has the haircut very early on) then that means he should already be in the Realm of Sleep when Kairi has not yet received her new outfit. In fact, we should never see KH2 Kairi design in the same timeframe as KH3 Riku if this were the case, but we do. Furthermore, the drop occurs in the Realm of Darkness, is again physically impossible based on how the Realm of Darkness and Realm of Sleep respectively work. Worlds in the Realm of Sleep are not in the Realm of Darkness, therefore those in the Realm of Sleep cannot visit the Realm of Darkness and can certainly not visit the Realm of Darkness. As for the renders:

The hairstyles are similar, but not identical. There are minor differences but they’re close enough I’d call it the point. However:

Riku’s hair in KH3D looks almost identical to his nonsleeping self’s version, showing it’s more likely it’s just the transference of the short hair onto the KH1 era RIku model.

Anyways model references aside, there’s one other huge flaw with Riku dropping at this moment and that’s how? We watch Riku die in what would likely be “Alpha Timeline” or an exact replica of Alpha Timeline, so if that’s the case, how do we have Riku dropping in the Realm of Sleep for the Beta timeline. It shouldn’t at all be possible, given that Riku is one of the people Sora rescued, or alternatively, the Alpha Timeline Riku never showed up in the Keyblade Graveyard, so who’s the seven lights. Given that they must be Keyblade Wielders, they’d only have six of seven (Sora, Kairi, Lea, Mickey, Aqua, and Ven) and so they wouldn’t have approached the Keyblade Graveyard in the first place.

We also see Riku in his KH3 hairstyle in the ending, which implies we’re still in the Realm of Sleep. So if that’s the case, does it even matter if we aren’t in the Alpha Timeline if the happy ending’s only in the Beta Timeline. Which for the record this would also imply that Xehanort is still out there in the Alpha Timeline (aka the real timeline) and make the claim that this is the end of the Xehanort Saga directly false. Which also means we’d never see the real Kairi ever again which again, is incredibly shitty way to treat the female member of the Destiny Trio. A lot of really bad implications for how the series would continue, even if it doesn’t bring up the problems in general with a “It took place in a dream” theory. Don’t like.

Everything after Kingdom Hearts II.9 is when the drop occurs, and when real selves land in the dream world.

This is my biggest (well one of my biggest) issue in the theory. The timing of the drop. If the theory were presenting the drop happened in the Keyblade Graveyard, I would one hundred percent agree with it. Because there’s a lot of weird elements, but we have several things to run against this in earlier evidence. Which on that note.

This scene here is when the game shows the KH3 logo, meaning KH2.9 is over and KH3 has officially begun. (Please ignore commentary finding resources is not easy for this.) This scene happens before we see Kairi in her KH2 outfit, meaning that scene takes place in Kingdom Hearts III, not Kingdom Hearts II.9. If it’s in Kingdom Hearts III, then that means the scene takes place after the drop, meaning we should only be seeing Kairi with Chirithy ears on her hoodie after the scene. But we see the KH2 design.

Furthermore, Sora and co. visit the Realm of Darkness several times, which should 200% be impossible if they’re travelling sleeping worlds, as it’s a world that cannot enter into the Realm of Sleep and be a sleeping world.

Finally, why is Xehanort sending his Org Members? It’s one thing in KH3D, that’s a part of the plan in 3D, but by this point in the theory, there’s no reason for it. Xehanort can just use his backup plan and win, what Sora and co. are doing in the sleeping worlds literally does not matter, but in the sleeping worlds, characters who are there as echoes of the world and not actually residents of them don’t talk, as seen with the odd Riku who never talks or does anything. Just silently fills the roll and leaves.

(In hindsight, it’s also possible this could be a time travelling Rikunort. This Riku’s purpose is still unclear)

Regardless of the above note, the Organization XIII members are actually there, and there would be absolutely no reasoning for it if Xehanort had already won.

It's not so much "everything is a dream" as it is "KH3 is just KHUX." Because everyone forgot the destruction of the real world and is living in a copy

This is my other big area of issue because it shows a fundamental misunderstanding of KHUx. KHUx does not take place in the Realm of Sleep, while there can be an argument for it, we have seen through the creation of the first Chirithy in KH Backcover (Which is not a dream) that Dreameaters do not only spawn in the Realm of Sleep.

Meanwhile, there is much more evidence that KHUx takes place within the Datascape or something similar. “Darkness”, in his conversation with Maleficent, mentions that the worlds are made of data. Brain, in his traitor reveal, calls himself the “Virus that will rewrite destiny” which is an allegory more fitting towards data. Finally, in the most recent KHUx update, we see glitches in the system, manifesting in phantom Strelitzia (In the Brain traitor video), a staticy conversation between Ava and the MoM, and the appearance of Bug Blox, which are synonymous with errors and darkness in data.

But in order to be in a Datascape, somebody has to open up a path first. And even then, it destroys huge elements of this theory.

Young Xehanort knows, and that's why he's all, "You're doing it again" with Sora during the Lich fight

No, that’s not it. Young Xehanort is specifically referencing KH3D, when Sora’s willingness and desire to help his friends led him to drive his heart deeper and deeper into the darkness to the point of him nearly being norted.

With different final results, that’s exactly what Sora is doing now.

It wouldn't invalidate the events as much as recontextualize them - there's more behind the scenes, but just because we're seeing dream versions of events doesn't mean they didn't happen

This shows a fundamental lack of understanding in how the Realm of Sleep works, but the long and the short is yes, it still does.

The Realm of Sleep holds records of events as they happened, yes that is true, but that only holds true to the worlds leading up to the Keyblade Graveyard.

In order for this theory to be true, while the events of the Alpha Timeline may have played out similarly to the events of the Beta Timeline, they would need to still be in the Realm of Sleep after Sora saved them from the Lich, otherwise the Beta Timeline literally does not matter since the events of the Keyblade Graveyard occurred in the Alpha Timeline too. So while some scenes are largely unaffected, any scene after the Lich rescue did not actually happen in reality because again, Xehanort would be an idiot to enter into the Realm of Sleep after Sora when he won since Sora does not matter to the grand scheme of his plan since the new seven Princesses work just as well. This means the Sea Salt Trio and Wayfinder Trio never reunited and makes not only the scenes we did get absolutely useless, it takes away the emotional weight of these scenes in the future because we’ve already seen them and feels like a waste of time. It would remove all investment in their future arcs (or leave them dead and that’s even worse tbqh) and if I’m not invested in these characters, why should I keep going when they make up a majority of the important cast? It would drive away fans (myself included) by the boatload and is a terrible idea.

It explains a lot of things like Kairi's murder not releasing a heart, why Kingdom Hearts is the wrong color, why Roxas can still wield two keyblades with only one hearts, etc.

Kairi’s murder not releasing a heart is not the first in the series to do that. Sora’s in KH1′s does not when he stabs himself to save Kairi, and neither does Eraqus’s death. If we are to believe she wasn’t actually killed, it would be a much more simple explanation to assume she was a replica than to assume she’s a Chirithy.

As for Kingdom Hearts, it’s not the wrong color. Of the games we see it in, KH1 (box art), KH2, Days, and KH3 all show Kingdom Hearts as orange/yellow. Only BBS shows it as blue as far as I am aware (I can’t remember if it shows up in KHX. I don’t think it does but?) so therefore you can’t really make that argument.

Roxas being in the Realm of Sleep would have absolutely no effect on Roxas’s ability to dual wield without two hearts in him.

So at the end of the day, the theory as a whole explains very little and what it does can be explained more simply, unless these portions are explained separately from the “It’s all a dream” concept it wants to sell.

So the conclusion in all this? The Sleeping Realms theory is a theory that seems to cherry pick evidence to reach a conclusion and while it proposes some ideas that others might find interesting, it throws out an idea without fully taking into account how some of the ideas thrown out might outright disprove later parts. It’s fairly contradictory to itself while ignoring the idea of Occam’s Razor and character motivations as well as how the two timelines interact properly. That being said, it could very well have had some truth if, instead of trying to apply to the whole game, it focused only on the last portion of the game (Keyblade Graveyard and beyond), though if it were to become canon I still think it would drive me from the series.

Why are people declaring this as what actually happened again?

#Kingdom Hearts #KH3 #Kingdom Hearts III #kh3 spoilers #So yeah I really don't think this theory was made for me sorry for all of you who like it

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wevegottogetaway · 5 years

Text

A Meaning of Love

It’s been barely two months since Harry and y/n moved in together, and yet, they feel like they’ve never seen less of each other before. The past few busy weeks have forced their routine into a high tempo of quick morning encounters, even quicker lunch break phone calls and countless half-asleep take-out dinners (few nights ago, y/n had been that close to face-plant in her soup had Harry not tenderly rubbed her back and urged her to ‘finish your soup, love, befo’ I take yeh to bed’).

By the time Friday finally rolls around, they are still both swamped in unfinished projects and boring paperwork that nobody really wants to sort out but that has reached its procrastination limit expiry date. And the worst is, even in the midst of this perpetual race against time, they still find some to miss each other and yearn for a quiet and relaxing evening.

Looking at the fancy clock in her office, y/n realizes it’s 7:26pm and she’s the only remaining worker on her floor (or probably all of them for that matter). Her head is throbbing and she has to read every sentence of the manuscript in her hands at least 3 times in order to get even the most remote idea of its meaning.

Exhausted, she dejectedly throws the document back on her desk before leaning back in her chair and harshly rubbing her face with her hands. She finds herself thinking of Harry, counting how long it has been since they last shared a couple-y moment. She just misses it. The intimacy. The idle talk, the deep conversations, the laughter, the cooking sessions, the movie marathons, the other kind of marathons…just the time to share and simply be together. Recently, it’s been all about coordinating their schedule to the best time-efficiency possible and she absolutely loathes it.

‘Fuck that’ she thinks as she starts gathering her stuff. When she’s done saving her work and turning off the computer, she makes her way to the elevator while pulling out her cellphone. In a matter of minutes she’s ordered food from Harry’s favorite place and is already on her way to pick it up. The frown previously etched on her face is finally morphing into a soft smile. She just wants to spend a casual evening with him, make him feel better after the hectic week they’ve had and maybe convince him to prolong said plan throughout the week-end too.

Still at the studio, Harry thinks he’s gonna lose his last hanging nerve if he doesn’t figure out what in hell is missing in the bridge of his new song. It’s 7:35pm and he’s been playing the damn thing since 8 this morning but nothing’s working. The pressure and the fatigue have rendered him inspiration-less and simply left him in a slump. His head feels fuzzy, his thoughts are jumbled and no matter how much he puts his all in it, he knows nothing creative can spring out from stress and sleep deprivation. So he pauses the audio and turns to his fellow songwriters/musicians with a sigh. "Sorry guys, think we should call it a day. My brain’s fried anyway."

They all nod and make their way outside of the studio after sorting everything out. "Don’t worry, man, we’re gonna figure this out. It’s probably best we stopped now anyway, it’ll give us a fresh perspective coming Monday." Mitch tries to reassure his friend.

"Hope so, yeah. I don’t know, I just…Righ' now, I just wanna go home an’ clear my head of everythin’."

"You’re right, it’s getting obsessive in there, and that’s never a good way to make music. ’S gotta be more natural than whatever that was" he says pointing his thumb back towards the building they just left.

"’S not just that though. Things are a bit crazy at the moment, an’ it’s like…I miss y/n in a weird way, yeh know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we just moved in together a few weeks back, right? But we barely see or have time fo’ each other. Her work’s keepin’ her busy as well...” It seems like he’s gonna add something so Mitch doesn’t interrupt his thoughts. “It’s like missing someone that is right next to you" Harry finally confides and it feels like some weight is being lifted off his shoulders with the confession. He’s been nurturing these longing feelings for a while now but had yet to express them out loud.

"Tell ya what, Harry. It’s the week-end, take advantage of it, man.”

"Yeah, think ‘m gonna go get some food an’ maybe flowers. She’s been workin’ so hard lately, just wanna give ‘er a nice evening." It’s his turn to pick up dinner anyway Harry thinks, and there’s a flower shop right across from her favorite place. Maybe they could just take off for the week-end too. Go someplace tranquil and far away from the city’s hassle.

That’s how half an hour later he’s finally pulling up on their street, take-away and sunflowers buckled in the passenger seat. Taking a long breath along with the rest of his purchases, Harry makes his way to the front door. When he finally enters their home, he’s immediately met with one of the most precious sight he could have hoped for: y/n in her sweats, humming to Here Comes the Sun as she gathers plates and cutleries to set the table. Harry feels already better and makes a bee line to his love with a wide smile adorning his lips.

"‘lo, love. Missed yeh today."

She looks up at the sound of his voice. "Hey, you. How was your day?" But as she’s about to melt in his embrace, she realizes he’s carrying items of his own. "Wait, did you get dinner?" she asks somewhat worriedly.

"Yep, I got yeh your favorite and these-" he hands her the bouquet, "are for you as well."

Now. When Harry imagined her reaction, he didn’t exactly picture y/n’s current expression. He’d thought maybe he’d be greeted with a ‘aww that’s so sweet’ hopefully followed by a kiss and the biggest hug in history. Or perhaps a blush creeping on her cheeks since y/n isn’t the best at receiving compliments and sweet gestures (getting her all flustered has become Harry’s favorite hobby ever since he realized that).

What he didn’t anticipate however, is the mystical look in y/n’s shiny eyes right now, like she was processing a hundred thoughts per second. She isn’t saying anything either. Just staring at him with love and wonder painting her irises.

"Love?" Harry tilted his head slightly on the side in sign of inquiry. Then y/n just chuckled and took his cheeks between her small hands, completely bypassing the bouquet and take-out still hanging from his fingers.

"Thought it was my turn to get dinner," she smiled at the qui pro quo. "I got you your favorite too. And some poppies." That’s when Harry noticed the bag with his favorite restaurant logo printed on it, seating on the kitchen counter besides a vase full of freshly cut poppies (his favorite as well).

Aligning his gaze back with hers, Harry awkwardly shifts around to place the food and the flowers on the counter by their side before engulfing y/n in a tight hug. His smile has grown tenfold and as he presses his forehead against hers, he thinks he couldn’t possibly fall deeper in love with her. So without further ado, he traps her lips between his and brings one hand to her neck. The kiss starts slow, eyes shut and hearts on the edge of imploding, savoring the moment. But then a small whine leaves y/n’s throat and it’s teeth colliding, breathed interweaving in-between, nose smudged against each other, and fingers kneading into heated skin.

The break is sudden and filled with their erratic breathing. It’s the ridicule of the situation that sends them laughing: both of them buying dinner, the result of a simple miscommunication. It’s an honest mistake really, they’ll just reheat the second take-out tomorrow. But it’s also both of them going out of their way, out of their exhaustion to get something special for the other. The desire to make a little gesture because days are rough and as a team they get through that by uniting moral support forces. It’s the intimacy y/n was craving so much. The small details Harry knows about her and she about him, and the fact that even through the madness of it all, they always seem to go back in sync.

"I miss you so much Harry" y/n finally says while tucking her nose in the crook of his neck. She just wants to feel as close to him as possible, breathe him in, and never let go. And really, Harry’s not complaining. He just squeezes her tighter against him and presses his lips on her forehead for a moment.

"I love you, y/n. How ‘bout no work this week-end, hum? Just yeh an’ me, wherever you wanna be" his lips are still brushing against her skin.

"Please," is what she answers before leaning back to stare at his pretty face with a soft smile. "I love you too."

➪ Masterlist

Hey guys, hope you liked that little piece. It is actually inspired by a true story; a so highly stereotypically French one, that I had to edit it for narrative’s sake. If you care to hear about it (no offense taken if you don’t!), prepare yourself cause I’m about to drop some serious French cultural knowledge on you.

There exists two ways one French fellow can eat a baguette: there’s the well-cooked team who likes it golden and crusty (like my Mum), and then there’s the not-so-cooked team who likes it soft all over (like my Dad). The basics being now established, we may proceed with the real story.

One time, both my Mum and Dad were having such a busy day that they forgot to agree on who would buy bread for dinner (I did warn you it would be awfully French). They ended up both buying some, laughing at the situation once they met at home. But see, now when my Dad recalls this — in appearance — insignificant moment of their lives, he says that in that moment they’d made love to each other. Because when they got ready to eat, they realized that my dad had bought a well-cooked baguette for my mum while she had bought a not-so-cooked one for my Dad. And yeah, my Dad can be a hopeless romantic sometimes but he’s kinda right, isn’t he? Love is about putting the other above ourselves and making them feel special with the little things like giving up your favorite type of something just so your significant other can have it their favorite way.

Anyhow, sorry if I bored you with my story (it is 3:52am as I’m writing, if you need some kind of explanation), I just thought it was something sweet to share. Please tell me what you think, I’d love to hear from you!

Take care xx

#Harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #fluff #Harry styles #creative writing #short and sweet #please tell me what you think

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