#why did i think two's limbs were darker than the main body colour he looks like hes wearing slay leggings now

[quincette]

Green-Eyed

Chapter 4 A Kojuro/MC Jealousy Fic Link to  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

“A maid told me she saw her feeding him in the kitchen with her hand.”

It frightened him how his own thought had snuck up on him again.

“Kojuro-sama?” she said, noticing how he went quiet and feeling his arms tighten around her.

Did it happen? Was it like this? Did you offer? Did he ask?

Woohooooo, in celebration of Kojuro’s birthday I decided that I need to get down and actually write this fic I started when I first read his MS, lol. Such a long wait - my apologies! Enjoy!

“An exceptional woman, isn’t she?”

He had lost her again, somewhere in the crowd.

“To think that even Masamune would go to such length.”

“But all’s well. I think this will be good for everyone.”

What are you talking about? He hadn’t asked Masakage, who obviously knew more than he had, but this one time Kojuro’s face had betrayed him.

“Oh, Masamune hasn’t told you yet, has he?”

No, he has not. Whatever that was that Masakage had been talking about.

“Well, he will, soon, I would think. You two need to work on the details.”

You two. Who? Masamune and himself? And her? She and Masamune? Or?

The variables were confusing and his mind had been spinning out an impossible web of stories, of possibilities of a conspiracy, from them. He blamed the small little things that had happened that day. Now, if only he could find her –

A familiar grip on his shoulder had him turn around to find Masamune’s green eye looking at him.

“We need to talk,” he whispered, rather briskly. “Tomorrow morning.”

That was all he said before he left to attend Kojiro and his mother, and their entourage from Mogami clan. He ought to be with them, to fend off those snakes from sinking their venomous fangs into Masamune. But his one-eyed dragon, he had found recently, has grown thick scales and confidence to brush them off without his aid.

Kojuro was proud.

And strangely feeling rather melancholic about it.

So he continued his search for her. The crowd had mostly dispersed, breaking away to smaller groups and retiring to more intimate places inside the castle ground, and out, for a more serious talk, or in most cases, more serious drinking sessions.

Yet he couldn’t spot her, not the familiar shape of her head, nor the single blush-coloured peony that adorned her short hair.

His feet brought him to his office, but she wasn’t there.

And the maids in the castle kitchen shook their heads when asked about their former chef’s whereabouts.

“We need to talk.”

“You two need to work on the details.”

“I heard she’s his mistress.”

The bits and snippets he had heard throughout the day bounced and collided with each other inside his head. Kojuro had always had a knack to foresee things based on fragments of information. It had been this ability that got the Date clan where it is right now – in a state of peace and relative safety.  

But right now, it was dragging his mind to a decidedly darker place.

She was not in Masamune’s office, either. No one was there.

She wouldn’t have gone back to their house on her own…

Which would leave one more place where she could be.

And confirming his deduction, he saw that the windows to the hidden little cottage tucked on the edge of the garden – Masamune’s secret kitchen, the thought gave his heart a little squeeze  – were lit.  

The smell wafting from the cottage was sweet. His belly gave a little rumble, as if it recognizes the aroma.

And there she was, bent over the stove, minding a pot of what he assumed was her famous spiced oshiruko.The scene before his eyed took him back to the first time he had tasted her cooking. How she had made a hearty, delicious meal out of the seemingly unsalvageable onigiri that he had made. For Masamune.

He had been there, then, his Masamune. He was not there with them this time. But he might as well be.

The three date crests that were embroidered on the back of her furisode told him as much. And also the flock of sparrows delicately painted on the upper part of it.

It fitted her beautifully. That damned furisode made from that Yuzen bolt kept in the clan’s treasury.

Kojuro wondered if Oda Nobunaga, the so-called King of Hell himself, would be offended to know that the exquisite fabric he had gifted to the Date clan has graced a kitchen. Or that it has been gifted to Masamune’s –

What?

Former chef. Trusted retainer. A more sober, reasonable voice inside his head supplied helpfully. Even as an insidious one whispered over it, echoing a splinter of gossip that had evidently lodged itself under his skin.

“I heard she’s his mistress.”

“To think that even Masamune would go to such length.”

What is going on?

The sound of clanging pot pulled him out of his head.

“Oh, Milord!”

There goes the chance to surprise her, Kojuro thought bitterly as he smiled.

“You surprised me!”

Or not.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I have been looking for you.”

He crossed the threshold. It’s warmer, and even more fragrant inside.

Before he could say anything, his stomach, again, made an audible rumble.

She laughed and pulled him inside, gently maneuvering him to sit on one of the simple benches furnishing the place. Her small hands felt so warm against his skin.

“Please sit,” she commanded, pushing him down. “I know you haven’t got a bite in you yet, and the main kitchen was such a chaos I thought to prepare something here.”

She flitted back to the stove and came back with a steaming spoon.

“Have a taste,” she blew the steam off the spoon and brought it to his mouth.

Kojuro wondered sometimes if her cooking had any part in him falling for her. If happiness had a taste, then for him, it tasted like this – warm, gentle, filling. He savoured the spoonful of thick broth and felt the warmth spread to thaw his chilled bones.

“Good?” she asked, even if he could tell that she knew he would never taste better oshiruko anywhere else.

Smiling, he pulled her down onto his lap.

“I don’t know… Let me have another taste,” he meant to tease.

She scrunched up her face to hide her smile. “Why, Milord, did you just ask to feed you?”

“A maid told me she saw her feeding him in the kitchen with her hand.”

It frightened him how his own thought had snuck up on him again.

“Kojuro-sama?” she said, noticing how he went quiet and feeling his arms tighten around her.

Did it happen? Was it like this? Did you offer? Did he ask?

He closed his eyes, banishing the thought.

“Milord?”

He felt her hand cupping his cheek.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw her looking down at him with questioning eyes. And then he saw one of those damned embroidered crests.

He claimed her lips with his own.

He didn’t want to think.

Mine.

He relished her gasp, and the feel of her yielding in his arms as he coaxed her lips to part for him.

Mine. Mine.

He suckled on her tongue, and twined their limbs, one hand cradling her head while the other encircling her waist, crushing her elaborately tied obi as he pressed into her, hungry in more ways than he cared to examine.  

“Kojuro…,” she managed, when they parted for air. “Kojuro-sama…!” she said, sharper, as she felt his lips latch on the dip in her throat.

“I want you,” he said, as if he could brand his words onto her skin.

The spoon she’d been holding clattered to the floor and she put her arms around his neck.

“I want to take you home and bury myself inside of you,” the words came out unbidden from his mouth as he traced her collarbone with his tongue.

Her now audible breathing only spurred him on.

“I want, I want all of you.” It’s frustrating how words couldn’t adequately express the heady cocktail of emotion lodged inside his chest. “I want to keep you in my bed until every nook, every cranny of your body remember me.”

She let out a low, broken whimper.

Mine.

She arched her back as he used his tongue and teeth to attack a particularly sensitive spot below her ear.

Her hand grasped his hair, splaying open to seek purchase. He felt her chest expand as she took a gulp of air. Then he heard her voice, whispered with an effort near the shell of his ear.

“Take me home, then.”

(Yes, next part is the smut part - yay!)

Enjoy my writings? here’s my masterpost!

Thank you for reading - any kind of feedback, reactions or incoherent babbles are greatly appreciated! 

Also shout out these lovely peeps who have been tagging me in posts @karalija @kojuriffic  @bulbaqueen @pseudofaux @nikkihime - thank you my lovelies, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to respond properly. 

My modus operandi these days are skim and drop shitty squealing post and not much else, I’m afraid, I blame work and stuff *sobs*! BUT I LOVED BEING TAGGED IN STUFF, FEEL FREE YOU GUYS! Plus Tumblr’s app in updated IOS is horrible and lagging like all the time!

 Next update in queue is Personal Injuries!

[justwritingscibbles]

The Entity Rule

Chapter 10- also has previous chapter links

Chapter 11

……..In fact it was the last thing you heard as you fell - and you knew you fell but weirdly didn’t feel the impact. You remember the worst pain you’d ever experienced, it was excruciating, but it only lasted a second because you weren’t on earth anymore, instead you were in a vast, white space and even though you should have never heard another voice again, someone who was walking up to you, smiling, spoke to you in a healing tone… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hello, y/n.” He said, his voice warm and inviting. “Hello?” You replied cautiously, sauntering closer to him. As you were able to make out the figures features you stopped dead in your tracks as you saw another being sharing the same face as Mark. However, you didn’t run as he got closer. He didn’t carry any sense of darkness with him unlike, well, dark. Instead this being radiated comfort, and not a false illusion of it, even though you were extremely confused your mind felt at ease and you even found yourself smiling in return at the first genuine smile you’d seen in a while, although when he stopped (close enough to offer physical comfort but still allowing personal space) you saw sadness tinting it. The ‘nice dark’ waited for you to speak patiently, hands folding together in front of him. “Erm…hi?” He nodded in reply towards you, still smiling “uh-not to sound rude-but how do you know my name? Also, while we’re here, what’s yours?” You needed something to refer to him as. “My name is Lightiplier” light said, offering a hand out to you “Would you like to take a walk with me y/n? I’ll happily answer your questions and I hope you’ll be able to answer some of my own.” You definitely wanted some questions answered but you had learnt the hard way that with supernatural creatures you still have to be a bit weary around them. “Okay, we can go on a walk, but…uh-where?” You asked, looking around at the completely empty white space. “Oh, anywhere my dear, but since your stay here may only be temporary your limits are…for lack of a better word, limited. It’s more the gesture of getting somewhere so you feel like you’re doing something.” You were still confused but lead the way anyway, light followed behind, his hand lingering at the small of your back but taking care not to touch you without your permission. “To answer your previous question we know a lot about everyone, and we’ve been keeping a special eye on you, for your own protection of course.” “We?” You asked, turning to face him with no fear, just curiosity. “Aha, yes 'we’. You’re very perceptive y/n.” He complimented, in this situation you’d normally blush, but strangely enough you felt no rush of blood to your cheeks… “we are, as you would probably call us, angels.” You couldn’t hide the shock on your face. Light laughed to ease the tension of your apologies for your reaction. “I’m sorry to suddenly drop this on you y/n, but there is an important matter that unfortunately we must address.” He said, giving you a pitying smile which made your concern about this 'matter’ grow. “Okay..? What is it Light?” He flashed a small smile at his new nickname but a serious face emerged as he spoke. “I’m very sorry y/n, but you’re dead.” You had expected as much but that didn’t stop a lump building up in your throat. Light extended his arms slowly so when you moved towards him he brought his arms under your own, holding you as his wings, bright and wonderous, circled around you. You wanted to stay, safe, under his protection, like that for longer, but you reluctantly retracted. “S-so is t-th-that the thing you needed to…to tell me?” You asked, not even bothering to hide your upset. He stayed solemn. “Yes, but I have something a lot less…traditional, to also tell you…” he said, stepping back to once again give you your personal space. You took a deep breath, coming to terms with all he was saying and looked up at him “Okay, I’m listening.” “You don’t have to stay dead.” You’d be lying if you said this proposal didn’t catch you off guard. “What?” You eventually managed to choke out. Light began to explain the offer he and all of the 'angels’ hoped you would take. “We’ve offered this to a few of the rare mortals who have had close affiliations with darker entities when they leave before their time is up, even though we don’t like bargaining with them we hope to keep some peace. We can normally predict the outcomes of a death close to them but someone like yourself coming back has never been so important before. With you dead, and the past added on, with Antisepticeye and Natemare” he tried to hide his disdain when speaking their names “great chaos will follow. A huge brawl that would rage for ages and will result in mass loss of life-” “Why?” You interjected, not meaning to be rude, “W-well because they’re both currently down there, broken up about your death, of course.” He seemed confused at your query but eager to help you understand at the same time. 'Oh god’ you thought 'I never even thought about poor mare, how broken up could he be? With your disappearance from his life, and so suddenly too.’ Then you applied Lights words to Anti. 'He obviously really did care about me, like he had shown, and now I’ve died with him thinking I hated him’, with Lights warning of history repeating itself, even greater than before, you had to wonder how much Anti did in fact like you… You and Light talked some more until he got straight down to the offer. You could either stay in peace and go further in the realm you currently resided, or you could be brought back to the mortal world. “We, of course, give you the option to say no to returning, because we don’t force peoples free will. We are moral entities, those darker entities are supposed to be dangerous, and personally” he leant to whisper to you “I don’t wish that upon you dear.” It didn’t take much brainstorming to come to your decision “I wish to be brought back and continue with my life, thank you.” You spoke into your hands, unsure how he would react. He sighed before you heard him say “Then, I will make sure you are protected.” Before you had time to look up and ask him what he meant he was gone.

Your eyelids felt heavy and you seemed to have forgotten how to get your brain to tell your body to move. You tried baby steps and even though it felt uncomfortable you forced yourself to open your eyes. The first thing you saw was the outline of someone, dressed in dark colours, and they were moving - pacing. Your eyes started to focus and you recognised the person. It was your boyfriend…your boyfriend… well you were sure the name would come to you, it had to if it was the man you loved. His hand was frantically running through his hair, but it didn’t look too bad, so why did he keep re-doing it? You couldn’t tell why there were dark streaks glistening on his cheeks, it didn’t seem like a thing that happened to most people…but why wouldn’t he look at you?! Didn’t he know you were there?! You thought you should try and concentrate on your other senses until he came to his own and touch was the second one that came to mind. You focused on your limbs, that refused to cooperate before, but instead of trying to make them move you tried to feel what they were feeling. As you honed in on your arms you realised there was a warmth on the bare skin that wasn’t on other parts of your body. Actually, it wasn’t just a warmth, something was gripping them, you then realised that your arms wouldn’t be moving even if your brain learnt to cooperate, something was holding them in place, someone else’s arms that knew what they were doing. Even your head couldn’t move because you recognised there was something pressing it against some sort of wall. Your eyes began to move freely and you looked to identify a hand holding your body, the same feeling was holding the back of your head so you knew there was another hand there, and the wall was a chest. But infuriatingly this person wouldn’t look at you either! He was staring at the moving man-Natemare. Yes you were sure that was it. And the one with green hair was probably Anti. You couldn’t think of anyone else you know with green hair. But you weren’t sure. Your body seemed to work when your brain wasn’t controlling it, because you could feel his scruff against your fingers and realised you had raised them to trail against the face of the person that held you. Their eyes, your original target, were red and swollen and you knew that wasn’t supposed to be what people looked like, so, intrigued and concerned, you decided to investigate the strange marks. Sound had decided to start working again but you didn’t realise this because as soon as you moved and touched Anti, there was only silence throughout the room. Mare and Anti looked dazed themselves. That long silence was broken when you felt something push behind Anti and move in front of the two of you, but you didn’t see it as you had turned to look at the pretty man with the strange lines on his face. Mare’s tear streaked face had turned to take on a look of aggressive shock and he backed up and shouted. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” …*bork*

*side note: and that’s it for a while! Sorry for the wait btw but thank you for your support on this series so far. It really means a lot. But this series will continue on my own new account @some-dark-sides-writing which I have made which will be focused on YouTuber dark sides (mainly)fics, asks, headcannons, theories, reblogs etc because my main blog wasn’t fit for fanfics, and I’m taking up too much of poor Scribs’ time who’s been a blessing to let me post this story so far on their own amazing account, so thank you Scribs. I also have many different fanfics with different YouTuber dark sides in the making right now which should be uploaded on there soon, and a short story of Chase and his kids posted immediately after this, because why not. So thank you again for your support on this series and I hope to see some of you lovely people over there! Hopefully I will resolve the rest of this story soon.*

(Scribbles Talks:  Everyone please go and support this awesome person! They write incredibly well and I personally enjoy this series. They’ve helped me out with their support too, so I would love it if everyone shared their support for them as well.)

[aesthetediaries]

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A Cry for Help

An animation work using analogous colours of black, brown, red, orange and yellow. This work was made to show that fear can evolve into something more complex if it is kept within the state of mind. In this particular work, a girl is hiding in a closet from her abusive parent. She has her eyes shut tight and her hands are around her face to silence her surroundings and her parent who is making his way to the closet. The little girl's actions are her way of escaping her reality but she is still brought to a terrifying memory of herself being abused.

Form

My intention was to show that fear can evolve into something much larger if it is kept within. In this studio, I showed an image of a daughter hiding from her abusive father and also showed the daughter flashing back to a traumatising memory. The digital stop motion, “A Cry for Help” was completed on the 29th of August in 2019. Each frame is 61 cm wide by 45.7 cm high with a 300 resolution. In the first scene, we primarily see an image of a closet in the middle ground displayed in front of a plain wall in the background. As the stop motion progresses we see dark smoke rising into the air from an unseen cigarette in the foreground and this is followed by a shadow becoming much larger on the closet and a hand reaching toward the handles of the closet. In the second scene, the audience is transitioned into the closet. Within the closet a young girl is sat in between hung clothes in the middle ground with her knees bent close toward her chest and her arms close to her body and face on either side covering her ears, she is in the centre of her closet in the foreground. In regards to her facial expression, her eyes and mouth are shut tight, and as the stop motion progresses we see her crying. In the last scene, we see three different parts of traumatising memory of the girl in the second scene, in this scene, we realise the reason to why she shed tears. In the first part of the third scene, we see an image of the girl on the ground with her knees bent with one leg raised and one arm raised to cover her face. Her other arm and leg are holding the rest of her body weight as she is in an almost lying position. In front of her is her man with one leg slightly curled back behind him and a belt on curled in his right hand. We are unable to see the facial features however these stances show a terrifying image. In the second part, the girl is still in the same position, however, her leg is put down, in contrast, the man in front has his arm raised above his head with a belt in his hand. In the last part of the last scene, the girl's leg is raised again as the man’s leg is raised above her as if he is about to step on her. The background doesn’t consist of anything so that the audience is focused on the people. In addition, one sound was used throughout the background and it was the sound of a racing heartbeat which also played on the emotions of its audience and further add suspense for the artwork.

The artwork, “A Cry for Help” shows features used by my artist inspiration, Anna Solanas. Her animation called “Canis” portrays a similar concept in which a young boy is trapped because he is too afraid to leave his home with starving rabid dogs all around because he doesn’t overcome his fear, he loses his father, the mother who he impregnated because he was raped by her and he also loses his dog. This concept certainly relates to my intention. In my artwork, lines were barely used to give it more of a realistic look. Lines were only used for facial features to represent the eyelashes and the wrinkles that become visible when an expression is made. Curling lines were also used to create smoke to create distance between the smoke moving in all directions and lines were used to create texture and give the work a more peculiar effect which would complement the suspenseful atmosphere. The artwork consists of organic shapes so the different objects and people are easily recognised. The negative space for each of the scenes were the backgrounds while the rest were positive space. The distance was created through overlapping and adjusting size. Larger objects meant objects moving toward the foreground and objects that were in front were closer to the foreground as well.  “A Cry for Help”, uses analogous colours of brown, orange, red and yellow, with these colours heightened areas were much brighter and deeper areas in the work were coloured in darker tones to create depth perception. I found that these colours allowed me to show my intention since, they create a suspenseful atmosphere, which its audience can sense.  

In terms of the focal point, in the first it begins with the closet and the background, then the smoke rising and next to a shadow which becomes larger as the unknown individual moves toward the closet and lastly it follows the movement of the hand as it reaches for the hands of the closet. In the second scene, we begin at the image of the girl then toward the clothing of the closet and the rest of the background and back to the girl as she begins to cry. For the last scene and it’s different parts it is the same movement for each, we first focus on the image of the two individuals portrayed in front then move to the rest of the background. On the subject of its other features, the artwork is symmetrical to give it that realistic look of a moment in one’s life, this symmetrical feature also allows for the focal movement to move smoothly from the centre to the rest of the image for each scene. For each of the scenes, the work is proportional and there is no distortion so that the audience is more focused on the concept of the work. The scale of the objects or people in the foreground is much larger than those in the background so that distance is created between different objects making it more realistic. The work is unified through its analogous colours of brown, orange, red and yellow and textures as well as the enlarging of scenes. The colours used to create realistic tones for the individual and create a dark image of the setting, whereas the texture brings out the main focus and creates a peculiar atmosphere, for the last scene, the colours and textures are quite different, however, enlarging and reduction of the size unify the work since this technique is also applied to the other scenes so that the concept is more focused when the audience has a closer view of the scenes. 

Theme

The artwork, “A Cry for Help” is to raise awareness of those who have been abused physically or mentally. My intention links to this because when people don’t speak up about any unresolved conflict it can worsen. This work gives the impression that the girl within the work is too afraid to speak up about the abuse she experiences from her father, because of this unresolved conflict, she constantly remembers a traumatising memory because she still continues to be abused by her father. 

Context

“A Cry for Help” was created in the Philippines in school, Brent International School Manila. My intention was to show that fear can evolve into something much larger if kept within. The artwork is significant for the time and culture because there are people who can relate to this implication or have at least witnessed someone else going through this type of situation where they have been or someone else has been mentally and/or physically abused. I hope that by doing this, people can speak up about their issues before it goes to far, or they could help someone who is suffering. I wasn’t influenced into making this because of the stories I read from news articles and stories I’ve heard from people. 

Reflection 

During the process of developing this studio, I wanted to show how fear that is kept within can evolve into something much larger and worse. By doing so, I created an animation with analogous colours of brown, red, orange and yellow to create a suspenseful atmosphere but created inverting colours frame after frame for the last scene which consisted of three different parts. One individual created fear in another person. By showing fear, I focused on body language and facial appearance. In the second scene, the facial appearance consisted of shut tight mouth and shut tight eyes which shed tears as the animation progressed. The girl was hidden between hung clothing with limbs close to her body to show how vulnerable she was and felt, her legs were bent toward her as she was sitting in the closet and her hands were covering her ears to avoid the sounds of what she fears. In the third scene the body language of the girl further shows the vulnerability and weakness within, she is in a lying position with knees bent and an arm raised as a defensive response to her father hitting her with a belt, stepping on her and kicking her. 

In regard to efficiency, I believed I worked best at the mixing of colours to create highlights as well as a depth which also means the distance between different objects. It easy to recognise the objects and people and where they are located when looking at the work. Additionally, I did well with scale and proportion as well as overlapping because it isn’t difficult to recognise the position of different objects or people. However, I struggled to create a smoother flow, I could’ve made more frames so that the artwork would run more smoothly, I think that I made too much more than enough changes after every frame, making it look a little disconnected as I play the animation.

The focal point starts within the first scene of the “A Cry for Help” at a closed with smoke rising into the air from a cigarette. Then it moves toward the shadow that grows onto the closet as a man is moving toward the closet and lastly the focal point follows the movement of a hand reaching toward the handles of the closet to open it. In the second scene, the focal point is focused on a little girl centred between hung clothing, we then move toward the clothing and toward the rest of the image. However, we are then taken back to the girls face since she begins to cry about something we aren’t aware of yet. In the last scene, we are taken to traumatising memory of the little girl, there are three different parts but they all follow the same context, we begin at the people then move toward the rest of the image. One of the individuals is being abused while the other is abusing. I believe my work looks complete because I was able to show my intention and the different parts were easily recognised.