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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

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A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.

#daminette #damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #ml x dc #big brother jason #this is eh I guess

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remosdeerica · 3 years

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Batshit AU Part #1: The Bio Kids

(Yes I have actually decided to call this the Batshit AU. I already have a series of one shots [there is only one so far, lol.] called Assorted Batshit on Ao3 so I figured I'd just keep going with the name.)

I have been posting a lot of stuff to do with "my Batfamily" or "my version of events" so I figured I'd go ahead and make some long ass posts about what I would love to see in the Batfam's future but know I will never get (but that's why fanfic exists so I guess I'll live)

Now there isn't going to be any clear timeline to this because I plan to write different fics in regards to these particular chain of events and when or how things happen might change depending on the plot. But it starts with the question asked by Random Joe many posts ago:

How many kids do you have, Mr. Wayne?

Well to answer that question:

Legally: 7

Biologically: 5

Emotionally: Anyone under the age of 25 that is within a 50ft radius (I'm mostly kidding but lets be honest, it's kinda true).

Now if that math doesn't make sense to you (as most math doesn't make sense to me), fear not! I shall explain!

So Legally we have as follows: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne and Helena Wayne.

These are the obvious few.

Now we get into Biologically and things get a bit more complicated. For this category we have: Damian Wayne, Terrance McGinnis, Athanasia al Ghul, Matthew McGinnis, and Helena Wayne (I put them in order of their ages and added colours if you wanna skip my ranting and get to the goods).

Now for those of you who may not be as obsessed with Batfam lore as I am; yes all of these characters are canon (in some timeline anyway) and you are welcome to google them. But just be warned that I take canon and make it my bitch so almost nothing you read about them on their wiki-pages or wherever you look for your info will really matter (besides Damian but even then I take creative liberties). But I love Easter eggs so there will be plenty of those.

Damian and Helena are pretty straightforward. We know where Damian came from and Helena is just the result of Selina and Bruce finally getting their shit together.

Terry, Matt and Athanasia are a bit more complicated.

Terry & Matt: These two cuties were the unfortunate victims of an experiment called the Batman Beyond project. A project that was put into motion by A.R.G.U.S. after Bruce "died" (was lost in time) as a way to make sure that the Batman legacy lived on (as if he doesn't already have a million children for that).

Warren and Mary Singer were lead scientists on the project but after finding out what exactly it was that A.R.G.U.S. was doing with the "failed attempts" (they were killing them) the couple stole the toddler subject BN9-12 (Terry) and infant AC7-30 (Matthew) and fled (I made the numbers up on the spot don't read too much into them). They changed their names to McGinnis and raised the boys in Gotham City (cause that was a good choice...).

Unfortunately, their old lives eventually caught up with them and Mary and Warren were killed. Terry (around 10-11yrs old) took Mattie (around 7-8yrs old) and ran, his parents having taught him some skills in case something like this ever happened. The boys lived on the streets for many months before running into Tim Drake (i.e. Batman) who later adopted them (because when faced with black haired blue eyed orphans there is only one thing for a Batman to do).

[Side note: Tim doesn't know the boy's origins at this point.]

Athanasia: After Damian's death at the hands of the Heretic, Thalia went insane (more insane?) with grief and as a result decided to have another child with the left over.... substance.... shall we call it.... that she had acquired from Bruce all those years ago. However this time she intended to keep the child safe where they couldn't be hurt by either the League or Bruce (as if Thalia wasn't the main reason Damian was dead... but whatever. I have mixed feelings about Thalia).

When Athanasia was "born" (taken from her birthing pod, as one is) Thalia locked her away Rapunzel style in a secure location. Never allowing her outside for fear that she would be discovered by Ra's spies and killed.

For 8 years Athanasia grew up in relative luxury inside her bedroom, learning history, politics math, writing, and anything else Thalia thought she needed to learn. But Thalia never taught her how to fight (haven't quite decided her reasoning for this so just go with it) and as a result Athanasia is a very quiet, gentle child (basically the opposite of what Damian was like at her age).

Thalia never told Athanasia about Bruce. Since she wasn't created with the intent of being the heir to anything, Thalia saw Athanasia as only hers and therefore deemed it unnecessary for Bruce to know of her existence.

But she did tell her of her older brother; Damian (what Thalia told her is still undecided and will probably depend on overarching plots).

The rest of Athanasia's story is still in the works but essentially Damian eventually finds her and brings her back to Gotham with him. But although she acknowledges Bruce as her father, she lives with and defers to Damian (and Jon depending on the situation) as her caretaker.

So here is Part #1 of the Batshit AU!

Next Part will probably be about Dick and Jason's child situation that I've hinted at. I'll link it once it's done. :)

#my batfamily #my version of events #Batshit AU #batfamily #batfam #bruce wayne #terry mcginnis #helena wayne #matthew mcginnis #athanasia al ghul #athanasia wayne #damian wayne #dc comics #bruce has too many kids man needs to not #this is getting out of hand bruce

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jinx-jade · 3 years

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What are you so afraid of?

“Hold on!” Marinette heard Jason call towards the front door.

When he looked through the peephole Marinette tensed slightly before the door opened.

“Hey, Jason. You wanted me to come over?” Marinette questioned, walking into her best friend’s apartment for the first time in months.

“I figured since you were too busy all the time, we could just chill here and keep each other company,” Jason claims casually, walking into the kitchen to start brewing their usual teas.

Marinette stared at him with a raised brow.

“You had me come over, just because you wanted company?” Marinette questions.

“Yeah. Sorry, were you planning on doing something today?” Jason asked with curiosity.

“No. Not really,” Marinette informed him with a sigh, fidgeting with her hands, she leaned against the kitchen island.

When she looked up from her hands, Jason was looking at her with a soft look she couldn’t read.

It was a look that he recently started to give her every time they hung out. It always made her feel like she was special, for what reason, Marinette didn’t know.

“So are we staying in or going out today?” Jason asked.

“In,” Marinette answered without much thought, causing him to chuckle.

“Lazy-day?” Jason guessed with an amused tone.

“Lazy-day,” Marinette responded, with a smile and a nod.

Both young adults took their seats and started watching whatever random movie came to mind while drinking their tea.

The morning slowly faded into the evening.

A time of day when most start to turn in for the night, yet Marinette and Jason always seemed to be more awake and aware during this time.

Jason turned off the TV after the sixth movie, turning to face her.

“Nothing like a calm relaxed day to put you in a good mood,” He claims as he stood up and stretched out his stiff muscles.

“You’re planning something.” Marinette accused with narrowed eyes. “What is it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Pix,” Jason states, moving their empty mugs to the sink.

“And I don’t believe you for a second. What are you planning?” Marinette teased.

“To invite you over, get you in a good mood then ask why you’ve been avoiding me?” Jason shrugged with a forced air of nonchalance.

Marinette tensed slightly. Most people wouldn’t have noticed her stiff posture, but Jason did. Of course, Jason noticed, Marinette couldn’t help thinking nervously.

“I… haven’t been avoiding you,” Marinette claimed, the lie leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. Kwami, she hated lying to him.

“Pixie. You’ve been avoiding me. You ditched almost all of our usual hang-out days. Even though you’re here right now, you’ve been keeping at least two-three feet away from me.” Jason states the facts as he sees them, Marinette looked away from Jason, not wanting to face him.

“If you don’t want to be friends anymore then at least tell me to my face,” Jason said, his tone was harsh but Marinette knew it was his defense mechanism. He didn’t mean for it to sound so mean and angry. Acting tuff is just his way of making sure he doesn’t get hurt.

However, even with Marinette knowing this, she couldn’t help the feeling of a sharp stab from running through her chest at his words.

“I’m your friend Jason, I’m not gonna break off our friendship because of your stupid assumptions!” Marinette hissed back in the same tone of voice that Jason had used.

Jason scoffed at that.

“Really! Then why don’t we hang out anymore! Why don’t we talk like we used to! Cause I can’t read your fucking mind Marinette, so tell me what it is you’re doing if not trying to end this!” Jason argues with a loud low voice.

“I’m not trying to do anything! I’m over at your apartment because you called and asked me to come over! How is that avoiding you!” Marinette says raising her voice to match in volume.

“Bullshit! You’ve been stiff since you walked in! You haven’t come anywhere near me! And you sat on a different couch from me even though you think the one you sat on is the most uncomfortable thing!” Jason continues to argue, his eyes seeming a little more green than their usual blue and green sea.

Marinette groaned at Jason’s stubbornness to not drop the topic, easily becoming just as frustrated as him.

“So tell me! What the Fuck are you trying to accomplish!” Jason hissed. “WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF!”

“LOVING YOU!” Marinette yells without thinking before realizing her mistake and covering her mouth.

The room fell silent.

Jason stared at her in shock.

“... what?” He says under his breath, just barely breaking the defining silence.

Marinette could only stare back as her eyes started to water.

Saying nothing as she started gathering her stuff.

“...Pixie?” Jason tried once more to get her attention.

“I’m… I’m just gonna… leave now,” Marinette informed him heading towards the door.

“Marinette!” Jason says, grabbing her wrist so she couldn’t leave. His hold was tight enough that she couldn’t leave, but not enough to hurt or leave a bruise.

Even under the influence of the pit madness, Jason’s subconscious was unwilling to hurt Marinette.

“LET ME GO!” Marinette cried as a single tear started rolling down her face.

“NOT TILL YOU LOOK AT ME!” Jason informs her, his voice sounding a little desperate.

Marinette looked towards Jason staring at the center of his chest.

Jason gently pulled Marinette closer, lifting her head by her chin. She tried to avoid it, but in this position, it is incredibly hard not to make eye contact.

They stayed like this for some time, just staring into the eyes of each other.

Marinette’s not sure if she imagined it, but the green tint of his eyes seemed to fade away, becoming barely noticeable.

“Why would you be afraid of loving me?” Jason asked softly. His quiet question somehow not shattering the intimate atmosphere that they had unknowingly created.

Marinette tried to look away, but Jason held her firmly in place.

“I… Cause I don’t… I don’t want you to leave.” Marinette claimed in a heartbreaking tone, another lone tear falling from her eye.

Jason’s eyes softened as he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. He looked at her as if the slightest noise could cause her to shatter into a million pieces, despite their rather loud conversation.

“Why would you think I would ever leave you?” Jason couldn’t help but ask.

“The people I care for… The people I choose to love… They always end up leaving… And… I don’t want you to go.” Marinette says with tears in her throat and doesn’t that just break his heart.

Jason pulled Marinette in by her waist, moving the hand on her chin to her cheek. He gently rubbed his thumb over her lips before moving it out of the way, pulling them into an intoxicating kiss.

Marinette let out a small whine in surprise, Jason using the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

When they finally pulled away to breathe, Marinette couldn’t help the look of shock and awe that was on her features.

The blue of her eyes seemed a little brighter than when she had first stepped into Jason’s apartment.

“I’m not going anywhere any time soon,” Jason claimed before pulling her closer, hugging Marinette to his chest.

Jason dropped his head to her shoulder, his lips falling in line with her ear.

Marinette was able to hear Jason’s heart pounding against his chest.

“I love you,” Jason eventually whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

“I love you too,” Marinette whispered back just as soft.

#maribat #jasonette #jason x marinette

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batarella · 3 years

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3 birds 1 stone - RED

Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

WORDS: 7791 WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

- Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

You:

“Y/N?”

On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.

But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.

Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.

Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.

Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”

“Oh.”

Not what you thought.

You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.

“Alright then. What do you want to know?”

He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.

“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”

Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.

“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”

“How do I know when I’m ready?”

That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.

“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”

A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.

“When you meet the right person,” you told him.

You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”

“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”

“When I have sex with someo-“

You gave him a dirty look.

“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”

“Coitus?”

“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”

You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.

“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”

“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”

A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.

“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”

“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”

That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.

“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”

You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.

Then there was this sinking. Something within.

“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.

Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.

“Was your first time with someone you loved?”

And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.

What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.

Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.

Easy, because it was true.

And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.

But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.

“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.

Jason:

Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.

He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.

Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.

The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.

Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.

He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.

Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.

Something. Anything, to intrigue him.

Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.

But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.

He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.

But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.

No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.

Nothing. He cared about nothing.

Everything, all except her.

And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.

He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.

Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.

More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.

“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”

“They closed off my room.”

She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.

“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”

“Better than that shitshow outside.”

“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”

“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.

“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.

But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.

Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said.

“Ah.”

Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”

Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.

The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.

But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.

Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.

She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.

But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.

Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.

Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.

“I’m going in.”

She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.

Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.

“You’re gonna swim?”

He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”

Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.

Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.

He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.

Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.

He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.

A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.

But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.

Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.

And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.

“Is it cold?”

His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”

“Is it nice?”

Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”

She hummed.

Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.

Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.

Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.

He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.

Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.

If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.

She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.

He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.

Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.

Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.

That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.

“I want to go in.”

He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”

He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.

Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.

“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.

It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.

But she was here now.

You:

The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.

But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.

“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”

You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.

“Yeah,” you said.

As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.

Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.

You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.

Now, you were bare.

Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.

One at a time.

With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.

It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.

Now, the other.

Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.

Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.

You were here.

You were free.

You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.

“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.

Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.

He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.

“Jason-“

“I’m here.”

You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.

“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”

So you didn’t tell him to.

Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.

You were laughing. “This is so great…”

“It is…”

With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.

“I want to go there.”

You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.

“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”

You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.

As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.

You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.

You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.

Oh god, how you loved him.

Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.

He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.

Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.

Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.

He pushed back your hair.

You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.

Jason:

What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?

That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.

Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.

He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.

She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.

And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.

He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.

His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.

You:

Oh.

Oh, was it all so wonderful.

The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.

You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.

In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.

But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.

“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.

Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.

“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.

And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you leaving?”

Again? You wanted to say.

But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.

“Go back to bed.”

“What’s going on-“

“I’m sorry.”

He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.

His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.

You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.

But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“

“Y/N -“

“What did I do?” You met his eyes.

“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“

“When?”

He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.

“I have to go-“

“You’re not coming back, are you?“

“I said we’ll talk about this.”

“Don’t walk away from me-“

He didn’t even let you finish.

He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.

The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.

Wouldn’t choose you.

Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.

You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.

This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.

Go after him.

Tell him everything.

Go after him.

You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.

So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.

You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.

You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.

You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.

You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.

Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.

At the fifteenth call, he picked up.

“Jason, for the love of god-“

Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.

“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.

��Please, just talk to me.”

“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“

“I want to talk to you now-“

“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”

You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.

“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“

“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”

So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.

But it wasn’t close enough.

You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.

‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’

Jason:

“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”

Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.

“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”

“That’s not true.”

“Tell me it is!”

“Y/N.”

He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.

“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“

Of course, she’d find him.

To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.

The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.

He turned around.

“You actually fucking followed me-“

“Why?”

She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.

“Why is this so hard for you-“

“Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?“

“Because, I-“

Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.

“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“

“I love you-“

God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.

“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.

“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“

“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”

A struggle at that.

But he’s never been so cold.

It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.

But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.

She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.

“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”

It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.

“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.

“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”

Great Expectations.

Why can’t he remember this?

“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”

Jason took a step back, away from her.

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.

“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”

“How did you-“

“Remember that?”

She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.

“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”

If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.

He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.

“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”

This. This was worse than a fall.

He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.

This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.

“I didn’t want to believe it…”

You:

You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.

“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”

Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.

His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.

“Do you love me?”

It wasn’t in his words.

It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.

It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.

“Of course, I do…“

Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.

Epilogue

Jason:

One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.

“Where do you want me to put these?!”

She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.

“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”

“Got it!”

He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.

But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.

“What about this!?”

He held up his box of books.

“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”

“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”

Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.

He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.

“Do you clean up even just a little?”

“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”

“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”

“What?!”

“Nothing!”

She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.

“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”

The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.

“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”

“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.

Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.

Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

This was how it ended.

And he never wanted it to end.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

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liam-93-productions · 3 years

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Liam’s full interview with Tings Magazine - Part 1

Note: the interview was recorded in may 2020.

Justin Campbell: What is the weirdest YouTube/Instagram trend hole that you’ve fallen into? Liam: One that always gets me is putting Mentos in Pepsi or Coke. We all know what happens, but we have to watch the ending. I’ve seen it about fifty times, and it doesn’t change. But it’s weird finding out what things are interesting when you’re stuck inside. It’s a crazy ride watching the world react to this. It’s almost like everybody’s become a street performer. You see these people on the street who have a special skill like magic and the internet is now the place for that and everybody does it.

Do you feel pressured to participate? Is there currency in that? Does that keep you relevant? I think artists have had to change a lot to fit in. There used to be mystery where you didn’t know too much about their lives, whereas we are in my living room now for all the world to see. I think that’s the biggest change of these newer platforms. I think you have to join in if you want to stay relevant. If you look at someone like Jason Derulo, he has 19 million followers on TikTok and he just started. His old songs are re-charting because of the TikTok chart. So, you can’t just make music and expect it to go well anymore. There has to be a personality and a story. It’s not quite the same anymore.

There’s so many differente avenues to keep up with. There’s Instagram, YouTube, TikTok. It used to be you did radio, tours and late-night television. Now there seem to be a dozen things to do. It’s crazy, this last promo schedule for me, having to do it indoors. I had to learn how to do a bunch of different jobs for the people that couldn’t be here. We put up a green screen in my lounge. We moved all the sofas, me and the camera guy that is staying with me set up the green screen and then you have to film it as well. It’s just crazy the amount of different things that you have to get involved in right now to stay relevant. And that’s all it is. The majority of the stuff isn’t really doing anything, but it’s doing loads at the same time if that makes sense. It’s a difficult thing to get used. And also, things have gotten jovial. So, you have to learn to make fun of ourselves. You can’t be Mr. Serious pop-star anymore. People aren’t really attracted to that anymore. People like the fun side of you, your personality and your humor come through on these things. It’s crazy. I thought about when I joined TikTok the other week, there’s a pressure to film something fun. But then if you are not having fun filming it, you’re not going to film a fun video. And I didn’t want to live my life every day thinking I got to film a video or nobody is going to care. I spent an hour trying to think of stuff and I don’t want to live my life like this. I enjoy then. I like going on TikTok and getting lost in a little TikTok rabbit hole, we all do, but I don’t know if I’m that way inclined mentally.

With the need to share more, to share a comedic side or a vulnerable side, where do you draw the line? When do you stop sharing? How much of it is constructed sharing and how much of it is authentic sharing? It’s difficult. I’m very prone to enjoy a moment rather than take my camera out and film it. I’m always one of those people who take a picture of a sunset and then never look at it and say why did I bother taking the picture. I’d rather enjoy the moment. We live in a day and age where the camera phone is people’s first thought for things. And I’m just not one of those people. Humorous stuff will happen and it will be off the cuff, but we didn’t film it. And it will be like “aw, should we recreate it?” But we don’t want to recreate it. It just feels stupid. It always feels forced in that sense. So for me, I definitely struggle with sharing moments. And you have those people out there, who are literally willing to do anything. There’s a trend for people who are shaving their eyebrows off at the moment. I’m not going to shave my eyebrows off so people will care a little more. That just doesn’t register with me. You have Jake and Logan Paul, who do a lot of crazy, crazy things to get noticed. And it’s like where do you draw the line.

These platforms make it challenging to carve out a private life. People expect more and more of celebrities’ lives to be shared. They feel they have ownership of every aspect of people’s lives. What are your thoughts on that? From the start of this lockdown, the first James Corden TV performance was filmed in the lounge and we went through my whole house. I can remember back in the day when a newspaper sent out the photos of my house. I don’t like people knowing where I sleep because it’s a security problem for me. I had a big complaint about that. Now fast forward 5-6 years and the world has changed to where nothing is really a private or intimate moment. It’s strange. As One Direction, we were in an era on the rise of Twitter. I think Twitter helped us a lot. It was the way we trended on Twitter that actually made us famous. But being on the cusp of that internet stardom, we didn’t really care about how many followers [we had]. Now, it’s become a currency. I just struggle to take those things seriously, that it is part of the job because it feels so foreign. When we had apps as kids, there was no way to becoming MSN famous. Now kids want to be an Instagrammer or a TikTokker. It’s crazy. We never had that.

You said something about people chasing the currency of liked and follows. Kids are thinking about that validation when they are creating content. How much of that are you thinking about it when you create music or social media/video content? I think, for me, I don’t often pay attention to how many likes thing gets. As a pop star, you have to have an average amount per post. We have to have meetings now where people will go through posts, and tell you why this works. Which for me, it seems insane, but you have this persona that you have to keep up online. And definitely, when posting certain things, you are gauging whether it’s going to get a reaction or there’s no point in posting it. And that’s always been the problem for me. I’m hoping for a big reaction for stuff which limits the amount you post because you think there’s no point posting this. Often the people who do the best in these scenarios are the people that didn’t mean for it to happen. Someone makes a little challenge like The Ice Bucket Challenge. Someone thought I’ll do this. It will be fun for us to film and because they are having fun, everyone is like we will get involved. If you think about it too much, it will overtake you. For the longest time, I didn’t post a lot. I got off of Twitter because of the backlash and the fact that you are always going to annoy someone with a post. I was like, I can’t deal with it. I might as well keep it to myself. There’s no disappointment.

I think that’s part of the condition of being an artist. You crave a certain amount of validation. When it’s work, you can take that some people won’t get it. But because everything has become so personal now like it’s about you. You sell your personality to people. It’s like if someone asks you “what five things do you want people to know about you”. And everyone goes, well, I’d like to be... You suddenly think, what we are doing every day online is trying to sell ourselves. It’s a difficult balance. You have to have the right amount of humor and humility and the right amount of this. It’s so difficult to find that person. And you see people who become caricatures of themselves online. They overdo it. You don’t know what works any why it works. The internet is such an untested experiment. The public decides. It’s so crazy.

You just said that it can feel so personal, which I think is such an honest statement because when you are putting yourself out there, it is hard to celebrate the work and you. When people don’t like something, it can feel like they are personally attacking you. It genuinely scares me sometimes. Even to post a selfie, because you just don’t know what the recipe is. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m just trying to stay around if that makes sense. I don’t know, it’s difficult. The fact that you just let it go and it’s gone and people either take it or leave it. It’s like jumping on stage every time you post, which scares me anyway.

You’ve spoken pretty openly about dealing with depression and anxiety. How does this level of exposure impact your ability to manage your anxiety? Before all of this started, the first day of school would probably be when you are your most anxious. Or it’s your own clothes day and you don’t know what to wear. That feels like what everyone is going through every single day online. It’s like the teen generation has so many more questions to answer that we had. I know as a kid I was quite stressed. I can’t imagine how these kids feel these days. The only way I can relate is by how I feel in this scenario. Obviously, being a little bit older, you are a little wiser with it. I thinks it’s a different kind of pressure these days. It’s a worldwide pressure. The fact that anyone can become a superstar overnight or also the most embarrassing thing in the world and the line is that thin. I can’t imagine what is like for kids growing up in that scenario. For me, it’s raised a lot of questions about my mental health and having to deal with these things. I’ve been running a pilot with someone for people in my position, people who struggle with fame, with the position that they get themselves. You don’t really realize the playbook you’re pressing. Once you’re in it, you’re in it. I started from 14-16, were my two start years. And the only answer that people had for you was that you’ve got have thick skin. But I don’t think that’s really the point because once you are here, you have to find out if your skin is thick enough. You have to learn. For the longest time, if somebody wrote something about me in the press, I’d rise back up and bring back up. I didn’t realize they were trying to bait me out because they knew I’d do that. Then they’d write three more articles about the scenario that I didn’t want them to write about. You can only know that with years of experience. If something comes out now, I just leave it to die and go away and that’s it. I just think it’s difficult when people say the only answer is that you have to have thick skin to do this.

That’s not really a solution. That’s just saying you asked for this. This is just part of it, which I don’t think is fair. Is fame something that you struggle with a lot? For me, there’s different periods, severe highs with different things and a lot of questions about stuff. I’ve been going at this now for ten years, which seems insane. I’m only 26 as well, which is quite a long time to be doing anything. And to be in this pressure cooker for that long is quite difficult, but I say I’ve learned to deal with it better now. Age and time are wonderful things. And we were buffered as teens. We had each other in the band. When I look at someone like Justin Bieber, I think no wonder he went completely mental at some point because there is no one in the world that knows what is like to be Justin Bieber, but Justin Bieber. He had no one to share it with. We had each other to share it with, to remember it with and be reminded how to behave, how to act. You shouldn’t do that. It was tough at some points, but for the most part it was helpful growing up in that team exercise rather than be let off on your own and you’re the most famous person in the world. It must have been pretty crazy for him.

#liam payne #liam's interviews #tings magazine #05.11.2020

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felassan · 3 years

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Article: ‘The Most Powerful Woman in Gaming Wants to Make EA Loved Again’

Laura Miele is helping direct the company toward a future where it’s more attuned with consumers.

One of the first things Laura Miele did when she became chief studios officer of Electronic Arts Inc. three years ago was to gather 19 video game influencers in a conference room. “What do you want me to hear? Lay it on me,” she recalls asking them. “One guy sitting at the corner of the table, he just said, ‘I don’t understand why you don’t give players what they’re asking for.’ ”

[rest of article under cut for length, pasted as Bloomberg has an article read limit]

It’s something many gamers have wondered about EA for years. The $40 billion company, one of the biggest in gaming, is responsible for Battlefield, Madden NFL, and other megahit franchises. But many gamers have long seen EA as a necessary evil, resenting the direction in which it took some games and bristling at its aggressive attempts to extract money by charging extra for digital items in games that cost as much as $70 upfront. This dissatisfaction was no secret in 2018: Gamers spent their days filling up Reddit and other message boards with free advice for EA—but many felt its decision-makers weren’t listening.

EA’s leadership knows it has to improve that relationship, and Miele is a key player in its efforts to do so. Her focus group asked for new content for Star Wars Battlefront II and requested new types of games. Miele quickly assigned 70 people to the Battlefront development project, which dramatically improved its net promoter score, a measure of how likely people are to recommend the game. She also prompted EA to create a skateboarding game and committed to reintroducing its college football franchise, the two genres at the top of the influencers’ list.

In a sense, the guy at the meeting became a stand-in for all of EA’s long-suffering customers in Miele’s eyes. “I wanted to do right by this player,” she says.

As chief studios officer, Miele manages 6,000 staffers and thousands of contractors globally. She oversees EA’s 24 studios, where she makes personnel decisions and sets strategy, and she’s reshaped how the company uses analytics to create and market its games.

In the process she may have become the most powerful woman in gaming. In a 2019 International Game Developers Association survey, fewer than 30% of the more than 1,100 respondents were women, and few if any hold a more central role at such an important company. “It’s a tough place for a woman,” says Peter Moore, who was Miele’s boss when he was EA’s chief operating officer. “It wasn’t always smooth sailing, but she battled her way through.”

Proving good intentions is more important for EA than ever, as the business model of gaming continues to shift in ways that have the potential to alienate customers. Like its rivals, the company is increasing its focus on free-to-play games, making money through sales of digital products such as outfits and weapons for characters.

There are signs it’s succeeding. Apex Legends, EA’s free-to-play hero shooter game, has posted more than $1 billion in sales since it was first published in 2019, and it continues to grow. “The way to succeed with free-to-play games like that is to listen to and engage your customer base and earn their loyalty through incremental purchases,” says Doug Clinton, managing partner of the venture capital firm Loup Ventures, who says Miele deserves much of the credit for Apex Legends. “It feels like a proof point for her that the company is adapting well beyond traditional disk sales.”

Miele, 51, was born in San Francisco but grew up on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. She got her start in games—the kind that require a board—during family nights, when she pitted herself against her brother in Monopoly, Clue, Yahtzee, and backgammon. While attending the University of Nevada at Las Vegas, she worked at architectural companies. By the time she dropped out she’d moved on from receptionist positions to more senior roles, while gaining a reputation for organizing lunch-hour card games with her co-workers.

Miele landed a job as a project manager at Westwood Studios, a video game developer best known for Command and Conquer, in 1996. She eventually took over all marketing for its parent company, Virgin Interactive.

It wasn’t always a hospitable atmosphere: Miele remembers her colleagues expecting her to take notes at meetings, then clean up afterward. “That is just not something I would do today,” she says. “I adapted a lot because I was so passionate about what I was doing. I found my voice along the way.”

When EA acquired Westwood in 1998, she stayed on. At the time, the company did revenue forecasting by looking at sales data once a month and putting together spreadsheets by hand. Miele was tasked with developing more advanced analytics. She hired a group of data analysts, nicknamed “the Jedi,” and had them build EA’s first statistical regression models to examine sales trends, seasonality, and preorders. It took almost two years to put the system in place, but it overhauled the company’s business processes, and executives were soon using it to determine how to invest in advertising and promotions. “I loved how data and analytics can inform your judgment and your gut instinct,” Miele says.

Miele also decided to make one major break with EA’s existing business practices. In 2011 about 80% of game advertising budgets were spent on TV ads. But she saw how much time gamers spent online and decided to spend the bulk of the ad budget for Battlefield 3 on digital, downplaying other types of ads and cutting the TV ad budget to only 30%.

Messing around with the plan for Battlefield 3 was a good way to make people nervous. Miele remembers two executives calling her in for a meeting and demanding to know why they weren’t seeing billboards for the game as they drove in to the office. “It was scary for me, too, and I don’t blame our executives questioning me on that,” she says. But the game ended up being EA’s fastest-selling, moving more than 5 million copies in its first week. From that point, Miele’s marketing strategy became the standard for the company.

When EA signed a 10-year deal with Walt Disney Co. in 2013, Miele became Star Wars general manager. In 2014 she took over publishing operations, marketing, and other key areas, first in the North American region, then globally in 2016. At the time, the game industry was moving from physical disks to digital downloads, transforming its relationship with retail partners such as Walmart Inc. and Best Buy Co.

Miele was in charge of smoothing things over, explaining that EA would start competing with them for customers even as the retailers accounted for the largest portion of the revenue. “I never said to them, ‘Hey, see you later, we are moving on,’ ” she says. “It was, ‘How can we move forward together?’ ” EA began making physical cards with digital credits that its retail partners could sell at their stores, allowing them to share in the revenue from digital sales.

EA’s studios are spread around the globe, and Covid-19 altered Miele’s routine radically. “It was a very difficult year, and I’m really proud about how our company showed up,” she says. “I considered myself a wartime leader last year. You had to get in a bunker with everybody.”

Days became an endless progression of Zoom calls. To keep up with gamers, Miele started spending evenings listening to Clubhouse chats while answering work emails. Because she hasn’t been on the road, she’s also had more time to dine at home and play board games or Apex Legends and The Sims with her 16-year-old twins. As the pandemic retreats in the U.S., her schedule might change, but she still envisions providing more flexibility to her employees to work from home and office. “I do think we’re going to have a different work environment as we go forward,” she says.

Miele is itching to get back to the studio visits. She’s helping steer EA further toward smartphones. The company plans to release mobile versions of Apex Legends globally this year and spent $2.1 billion in April for Glu Mobile Inc., a mobile game publisher, while also preparing the next releases in its existing franchises. “I think the next Battlefield and the mobile shooter games, along with how successful the M&As come out will be key litmus tests of her management this year,” says Matt Kanterman, an analyst with Bloomberg Intelligence. “Her scope is clearly rising.”

— With Dina Bass and Jason Schreier

[source]

#video games #interesting..#long post #longpost

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lunap95 · 3 years

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Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Super Sons (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne Characters: Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Maya Ducard, Collin Wilkes, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Kara Zor-El Additional Tags: Roommates, Domestic Fluff, adopting a pet, High School, Jealousy, Running Away, Partners in Crime, Fake/Pretend Relationship, getting caught, Heartbeats, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Masquerade, Family Vacation, Marriage Proposal, JonDami Week 2021

Hey, hey, hey! Last day of the @jondami-week Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and comments, it makes me super happy! As I mentioned I'm planning on doing a longer (but not too long) fic about Damian and Jon so please if you like anything of these prompts tell me so I can have a clearer idea on how to write them. Thanks!

Day 7: joint family vacation | proposal | free day

You can also read it under the cut

“Stephanie, I swear to God if you play that stupid song one more time.”

“Shut up, Jason, you didn’t have a good music taste even before your first death.”

“Come on, guys, I’m sure we can find something nice for every-” Duke dodged a hamburger and decided it was better not to get in between.

“Has anyone seen my sunglasses?” asked Conner, his sunglasses obviously over his head.

“No,” answered Tim not even making an attempt at pointing his mistake.

“I’m just saying, it would totally rock if you made a ‘Is Bruce Wayne Batman?’ headline,” Cassandra nodded at Dick’s words.

“You know it would actually be really funny,” Lois smirked, her smile too similar to one of the evildoers they usually fought.

“Not it wouldn’t!” interrupted Barbara visibly angry. “Because then we, instead of him, will have to deal with it later.”

“I stopped dealing with Bruce’s shit a long time ago, you should do the same,” proclaimed Kate taking a sip of his wine.

“This is the fourth time I have to repair a train, Kent,” argued Bruce on the other side of the field. “Is it really too much to ask to show a little restrain?”

“Oh, excuse, mister billionaire, next time a train is about to run over some innocent citizens I will kindly ask the train to stop,” refuted Clark.

“The only thing I’m saying,” not too far Alfred was in the middle of another discussion with Martha and Jon Kent. “that the recipe is obviously done with raisins.”

“Raisins? Maybe in that rainy spot of yours,” Martha seemed to be terribly offended. “But not here.”

Damian sighed for the hundredth time that day watching how the whole family continued creating absolute chaos. If his calculations were right there were just a few minutes left before someone screamed “food fight”. Next to him, Jon munched on a hamburger as if the picture did not bother him at all.

“Let’s have some picnic together, you said,” said Damian. “It would be fun, you said.”

“I think is nice.”

“Your cousin tried to throw Todd over the roof just an hour ago.”

“And I think Steph is about to ask her to do it again,” laughed Jon pointing at were Jason and Steph continued to argue about the music, Duke and Cass now enjoying their exchanged while eating popcorns.

“At least Grayson has stopped with the puns,” he was starting to question why the hell he had accepted Jon’s idea, this was bound to end in disaster.

“Well, actually I think he is telling my mum that story about the Napkin man.”

Jon could not help but smile at his groan. Maybe their families were a bit… chaotic when they met, but he actually enjoyed spending time together like this. As long as he kept a safe distance between him and Jason’s guns there should not be a problem (he still remembered when the Red Hood first discovered he was dating his younger brother, that had been a fun chase). And deep down he knew Damian enjoyed them too, but his boyfriend was too stubborn to admit it.

“I just don’t understand why you insisted so much on this.”

The box in his pocket seemed to get heavier with his words. They have been dating for almost eight years, living together for six of them. While he worked as a journalist in the Daily Planet, Damian had his hands full with inheriting the Batman legacy and leading the new Gotham Justice team along with Duke, although he still made some art exhibitions from time to time. He still went out as Superboy, mostly with Damian, but the defence of Metropolis had gone mainly to Supergirl and Conner, who now called himself Supernova. Their fathers had told them they would soon pass their mantle to them and Jon had decided he wanted to ask the big question before that happened.

“D, mind walking with me for a minute?”

Damian raised an eyebrow confused as to why his boyfriend wanted to walk on the same fields that had seen him grow, but he decided it would be way better than staying there. They walked while holding hands, chatting about their little things until they reached a familiar forest.

“Does it ring a bell?” Jon smiled.

“This is where we first met,” realised Damian. “Well, when I kidnap you after discovering you were a threat to society.”

“Well, you suspicious turned out to be correct, only not to society,” he winked at him. “Only a threat to you.”

“Hmm,” Damian wrapped his hands around his neck. “Maybe I should have let you tied on the examination table of the Batcave.”

“Then, you wouldn’t have this.”

Jon then proceeded to kneel in front of him, taking the box out of his pocket. Damian didn’t say anything but his eyes widened.

“Damian Wayne,” he proclaimed. “I never thought I could hate anyone more than the first time I met you. But with time, you showed me the great person you are. Because many might think of you as brash and arrogant, but I know your actions speak more than your words. I have seen you bleed for your teammates, cry for your brothers and sister and take care of your pets as if they were the most valuable thing on this planet,” he opened the box to show a ring with a green gemstone. “You became my best friend and later the love of my life and I can’t think of a better person to share the rest of my life with so… would you do me the super honour of becoming my husband?”

“Did you have to add the super thing?” but Damian was smiling and he could swear his eyes were shinning. “Of course I do, you sap.”

Jon did not waste any time jumping to capture his lips while putting the ring on his finger. The gem was the same shade in his eyes and the moment Jon saw it he knew he wanted his boyfriend to wear it.

“I’m going to make you the happiest man on Earth,” he whispered between kisses.

“I already am.”

There were still a lot of hardship to face, millions of adventures waiting for them on the corner, but in that instant, in the same forest where they met, both could feel the strength of their bond. A union that could not be broken by time or dangers, a connection that will be with them until the time they expired their last breath. So for the moment, they enjoyed this moment and the pure bliss of knowing they would never be alone as long as the other was next to them.

#jondami week #jondami week 2021 #jondami #damijon #damian wayne #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #super sons #batman media #superman media #fanfic

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jenniferisacommonname · 3 years

Text

Bonus Level Unlocked

This week marks the release of Jason Schreier’s Press Reset, an incredibly well-researched book on catastrophic business failure in the gaming industry. Jason’s a good dude, and there’s an excerpt here if you want to check it out. Sadly, game companies going belly-up is such a common occurrence that he couldn’t possibly include them all, and one of the stories left out due to space constraints is one that I happen to be personally familiar with. So, I figured I’d tell it here.

I began working at Acclaim Studios Austin as a sound designer in January of 2000. It was a tumultuous period for the company, including a recent rebranding from their former studio name, “Iguana Entertainment,” and a related, ongoing lawsuit from the ex-founder of Iguana. There were a fair number of ghosts hanging around—the creative director’s license plate read IGUANA, which he never changed, and one of the meeting rooms held a large, empty terrarium—but the studio had actually been owned on paper by Acclaim since 1995, and I didn’t notice any conflicting loyalties. Everyone acted as if we always had been, and always would be, Acclaim employees.

Over the next few years I worked on a respectable array of triple-A titles, including Quarterback Club 2002, Turok: Evolution, and All-Star Baseball 2002 through 2005. (Should it be “All-Stars Baseball,” like attorneys general? Or perhaps a term of venery, like “a zodiac of All-Star Baseball.”) At any rate, it was a fun place to work, and a platformer of hijinks ensued.

But let’s skip to the cutscene. The truth is that none of us in the trenches suspected the end was near until it was absolutely imminent. Yes, Turok: Evolution and Vexx had underperformed, especially when stacked against the cost of development, but games flop in the retail market all the time. And, yes, Showdown: Legends of Wrestling had been hustled out the door before it was ready for reasons no one would explain, and the New York studio’s release of a BMX game featuring unlockable live-action stripper footage had been an incredibly weird marketing ploy for what should have been a straightforward racing title. (Other desperate gimmicks around this time included a £6,000 prize for UK parents who would name their baby “Turok,” an offer to pay off speeding tickets to promote Burnout 2 that quickly proved illegal, and an attempt to buy advertising space on actual tombstones for a Shadow Man sequel.)

But the baseball franchise was an annual moneymaker, and our studio had teams well into development on two major new licenses, 100 Bullets and The Red Star. Enthusiasm was on the upswing. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention when voice actors started calling me to complain that they hadn’t been paid, but at the time it seemed more like a bureaucratic failure than an actual money shortage—and frankly, it was a little naïve of them to expect net-30 in the first place. Industry standard was, like, net-90 at best. So I was told.

Then one Friday afternoon, a few department managers got word that we’d kind of maybe been skipping out on the building lease for let’s-not-admit-how-many months. By Monday morning, everyone’s key cards had been deactivated.

It's a little odd to arrive at work and find a hundred-plus people milling around outside—even odder, I suppose, if your company is not the one being evicted. Acclaim folks mostly just rolled their eyes and debated whether to cut our losses and head to lunch now, while employees of other companies would look dumbfounded and fearful before being encouraged to push their way through the crowd and demonstrate their still-valid key card to the security guard. Finally, the General Manager (hired only a few months earlier, and with a hefty relocation bonus to accommodate his houseboat) announced that we should go home for the day and await news. Several of our coworkers were veterans of the layoff process—like I said, game companies go under a lot—and one of them had already created a Yahoo group to communicate with each other on the assumption that we’d lose access to our work email. A whisper of “get on the VPN and download while you can” rippled through the crowd.

But the real shift in tone came after someone asked about a quick trip inside for personal items, and the answer was a hard, universal “no.” We may have been too busy or ignorant to glance up at any wall-writing, but the building management had not been: they were anticipating a full bankruptcy of the entire company. In that situation, all creditors have equal standing to divide up a company's assets in lengthy court battles, and most get a fraction of what they’re owed. But if the landlords had seized our office contents in lieu of rent before the bankruptcy was declared, they reasoned, then a judge might rule that they had gotten to the treasure chest first, and could lay claim to everything inside as separate from the upcoming asset liquidation.

Ultimately, their gambit failed, but the ruling took a month to settle. In the meantime, knick knacks gathered dust, delivered packages piled up, food rotted on desks, and fish tanks became graveyards. Despite raucous protest from every angle—the office pets alone generated numerous threats of animal cruelty charges—only one employee managed to get in during this time, and only under police escort. He was a British citizen on a work visa, and his paperwork happened to be sitting on his desk, due to expire. Without it, he was facing literal deportation. Fortunately, a uniformed officer took his side (or perhaps just pre-responded to what was clearly a misdemeanor assault in ovo,) and after some tense discussion, the building manager relented, on the condition that the employee touch absolutely nothing beyond the paperwork in question. The forms could go, but the photos of his children would remain.

It’s also a little odd, by the way, to arrive at the unemployment office and find every plastic chair occupied by someone you know. Even odder, I suppose, if you’re actually a former employee of Acclaim Studios Salt Lake, which had shut down only a month or two earlier, and you just uprooted your wife and kids to a whole new city on the assurance that you were one of the lucky ones who got to stay employed. Some of them hadn’t even finished unpacking.

Eventually, we were allowed to enter the old office building one at a time and box up our things under the watchful eye of a court appointee, but by then our list of grievances made the landlords’ ploy seem almost quaint by comparison (except for the animals, which remains un-fucking-forgivable.) We had learned, for example, that in the weeks prior to the bankruptcy, our primary lender had made an offer of $15 million—enough to keep us solvent through our next batch of releases, two of which had already exited playtesting and were ready to be burned and shipped. The only catch was that the head of the board, company founder Greg Fischbach, would have to step down. This was apparently too much of an insult for him to stomach, and he decided that he'd rather see everything burn to the ground. The loan was refused.

Other “way worse than we thought” details included gratuitous self-dealing to vendors owned by board members, the disappearance of expensive art from the New York offices just before closure, and the theft of our last two paychecks. For UK employees, it was even more appalling: Acclaim had, for who knows how long, been withdrawing money from UK paychecks for their government-required pension funds, but never actually putting the money into the retirement accounts. They had stolen tens of thousands of dollars directly from each worker.

Though I generally reside somewhere between mellow and complete doormat on the emotional spectrum, I did get riled enough to send out one bitter email—not to anyone in corporate, but to the creators of a popular webcomic called Penny Arcade, who, in the wake of Acclaim’s bankruptcy announcement, published a milquetoast jibe about Midway’s upcoming Area 51. I told Jerry (a.k.a. “Tycho”) that I was frankly disappointed in their lack of cruelty, and aired as much dirty laundry as I was privy to at the time.

“Surely you can find a comedic gem hidden somewhere in all of this!” I wrote. “Our inevitable mocking on PA has been a small light at the end of a very dark, very long tunnel. Please at least allow us the dignity of having a smile on our faces while we wait in line for food stamps.”

Two days later, a suitably grim comic did appear, implying the existence of a new release from Acclaim whose objective was to run your game company into the ground. In the accompanying news post, Tycho wrote:

“We couldn’t let the Acclaim bankruptcy go without comment, though we initially let it slide thinking about the ordinary gamers who lost their jobs there. They don’t have anything to do with Acclaim’s malevolent Public Relations mongrels, and it wasn’t they who hatched the Titty Bike genre either. Then, we remembered that we have absolutely zero social conscience and love to say mean things.”

Another odd experience, by the way, is digging up a 16-year-old complaint to a webcomic creator for nostalgic reference when you offer that same creator a promotional copy of the gaming memoir you just co-wrote with Sid Meier. Even odder, I suppose, to realize that the original non-Acclaim comic had been about Area 51, which you actually were hired to work on yourself soon after the Acclaim debacle.*

As is often the case in complex bankruptcies, the asset liquidation took another six years to fully stagger its way through court—but in 2010, we did, surprisingly, get the ancient paychecks we were owed, plus an extra $1,700-ish for the company’s apparent violation of the WARN Act. By then, I had two kids and a very different life, for which the money was admittedly helpful. Sadly, Acclaim’s implosion probably isn’t even the most egregious one on record. Our sins were, to my knowledge, all money-related, and at least no one was ever sexually assaulted in our office building. Again, to my knowledge. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure we remain the only historical incident of corporate pet murder. The iguana got out just in time.

*Area 51’s main character was voiced by David Duchovny, and he actually got paid—which was lucky for him, because three years later, Midway also declared bankruptcy.

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pilot-boi · 4 years

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SO! Since I **obviously** can't count on the rest of the community to get you to spill more jnpr berries kids goodness, gotta ask all the questions by myself. How do the kids get along? Which ones want to become huntsmen/huntresses? Do they have semblances? Who are the pancake monsters? Do they have pets? Who are their favorite uncles/aunts? What jobs do they strive for? How old are they? Hobbies? Family activities? Who sucks at video games? Damn characters limit. Just give me EVERYTHING!!!

It’s taken me forever, but I’m actually gonna try to answer this now. This ask has been haunting me long enough

EXTREMELY LONG POST INCOMING

The kids all pretty much get along. There’s some tension between Mauve and Rouge, because Rouge is a Bastard and Mauve just wants to be left alone.

On the other end of the spectrum, Jason absolutely adores Tangerine. I mean, they all do because she’s precious, but especially him.

The twins and Carmine want to become Hunters. The twins are on the same team together, and Carmine, being a couple years younger, is at school with them at the same time but is on a different team.

They do all have Semblances, but some of the kids use them more than others. They’ve all got names as well, and I can go into deeper detail in another ask if you want.

Jason sort of inherited Jaune’s semblance, but he uses it exclusively for healing people and animals. Fleur can nullify or amplify emotions, but she feels a feedback of the emotion herself.

The twins semblances are linked, they can swap places with each other within a limited amount of distance. Mauve can make a shadow clone of himself, sort of like Blake, but they’re made entirely of a certain emotion like a Patronus.

Carmine has pyrokinesis, and can accidentally create lightning when she’s really agitated. Tangerine can see glimpses of the past and future, which I actually drew a picture of and posted.

Oh the twins are one hundred percent the pancake monsters, predictably. But also Carmine, despit not being blood related to Nora. She will bite your hand if you try to take her pancakes.

Some of them have pets. Jason, after his parents figure out that he’s got MAXIMUM anxiety, get him a cat as a service animal. The twins bring home a raccoon, who immediately attached to Fleur, much to their chagrin. Mauve and Tangerine share a turtle.

Ruby is Jason’s favourite aunt, Weiss is Fleur’s favourite aunt, Blake is Mauve’s favourite aunt, Yang is Rouge’s favourite aunt, Penny is Tangerine’s favourite aunt, Sun is Sapphire’s favourite uncle, and Neptune is Carmine’s favourite uncle. Oscar is top best uncle on all their lists by default.

As for jobs, I already said the twins and Carmine. Jason wants to open an animal shelter. Fleur wants to be a therapist. Mauve is an artist, and wants to be an animator. And Tangerine wants to be a scientist or researcher of some kind.

I’m gonna pick a random time, because obviously ages change. Jason is 18, Fleur is also 18 but a month or so younger, the twins are both 17 but Sapphire is older by five minutes, Mauve is 16, Carmine is 15, and little Tangerine is 10

Mauve is an artist, as I mentioned before. Tangerine likes to try to do science experiments in the back yard. Carmine is a bit of a fashionista and inherited her father’s love of dance. The twins’ hobbies are Chaos.

Mauve is a Gamer™️. Fleur is terrible at video games. Jason only plays the like calm ones like Minecraft and Slime Rancher and stuff. Tangerine and Mauve have a huge Minecraft world together, that they eventually let Jason play on. Rouge is good at games, but he gets so mad it’s hilarious to watch

It took me a million years, but there you go

@cookinggaming @wobblyjellyfish @harmonylight

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #rwby next generation #jnpr berries #asks #mine #cookinggaming #jason jnpr #fleur jnpr #rouge jnpr #sapphire jnpr #mauve jnpr #carmine jnpr #tangerine jnpr

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wvttvk · 4 years

Text

We Shouldn’t — Natalie Mariduena

a/n: just some natalie with a sprinkle of david drama lmfao smut&language warning. Word Count: 3.3k (sheesh) enjoy :)

Someone once told Natalie that some things—both good and bad— can happen with such a precise gradual increase that by the time it’s truly noticeable, it’s far too late to do anything about it. And it’s true.

Natalie knew she was lucky. She really never could have dreamed that by 23 she would be practically running a million dollar company with her best friend. Working with her best friend was not always pretty but it was one of the biggest blessings she’s ever gotten. David knew her just as well as she knew him and they were able to create what almost felt like a little dynasty. Nat was able to refute David’s impulsive extremes with her analytical reasoning. It worked well for her.

But things can’t always stay perfect. Things happen in life that can truly uproot what you have been working to grow. Unfortunately for Natalie, that was you.

You had just begun hanging out with the infamous vlog squad. After drunkenly making out with Corinna in a vlog, David took a liking to you. He always made sure to have Natalie invite you to wherever the group was hanging out, occasionally having just you at his house.

Natalie couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of you. She hadn’t noticed it happening, how whenever you would walk in the room her face would heat up. Every time she texted you, her mind would race with thoughts of what you felt when her name lit up your phone. She wondered what you were thinking of when you looked at her. But at first, Natalie wouldn’t call it a crush, she told herself that it was her way of seeing your intentions. David had been telling Nat about his crush on you, how infatuated he was with your whole personality. Natalie was used to this with him. He gets attracted to people and makes it very known so that others wouldn’t dare pursue them.

Natalie would never admit it to David but she wanted you. Natalie normally didn’t want much, she was fine being single, she knew how to take care of herself in more ways than one. But when Natalie touched herself, her mind always found your face. She thought of your kiss with Corinna, how you had been the one in control, your tongue making its way into Corinna’s mouth. Natalie wishes it could’ve been her, but things don’t always work out that way.

David had been planning a way to make a move on you and Natalie felt sick. Every time he spoke your name, her eyes rolled and she bit back with unhelpful remarks. It didn’t take long for David to realize the change in her temperament.

“What the fuck is up with you, Nat?” He walked into Natalie’s room where she was on her laptop, both working and trying to avoid David.

Natalie took a deep breath, “I am fine, Dave. I have a headache and you’re not helping.”

“Fine, sorry.” David responded, taking that as an invitation to lay on her bed. She rolled her eyes again, the silence resuming as he played on his phone. It was short lived however, when he turned the phone towards her, a photo of you lighting up the screen. The butterflies in Natalies stomach did front flips and she tried to push away that feeling.

“Y/N is just so different. Ugh I just wanna hold her and fuck-Nat she’s so hot. I—“ Natalie couldn’t take it anymore. The constant reminder from him that she couldn’t have you.

“Enough about Y/N.” She snapped, David’s head turning to her in shock at the outburst. “Fucking enough Dave, if you want her so bad go talk to her. I’m tired of hearing you whine.” She finished, getting up from the bed and leaving him alone in her room.

“Are you jealous Natalie?” She heard David’s voice from behind her and she froze. She didn’t think she made it obvious that she had feelings for Y/N. She swore she tried to push those feelings so far down, to keep things okay. The last thing she wanted was her and David fighting over a girl. But you weren’t just any girl to Natalie.

“E-Excuse me?” Natalie whipped around to face him, trying to remain expressionless.

“If you’re upset that I like Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t know.” He was awkwardly scratching his jaw as he looked at you with what looked like pity. “I didn’t know you liked me that way, Nat.”

She stopped breathing. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh or scream or slap him in the face. She let out a dry laugh, “Hah, you’re a fucking idiot.” She headed further into the kitchen and David remained where he was.

“Okay fine, but if not that, why are you so irritated with Y/N?” He continued, sitting down at the counter. You looked at him, an inquisitive and soft smile on his face as he waited for you to explain. In that moment Natalie wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to say that she wanted you more than she’d wanted anything in awhile. That whenever she spoke to you, she couldn’t help but admire every detail of your face. From the way your eyes raced with a childlike glee when you talked about something you loved, or the way your lips would curl into a coy smile when you would tease. The way all she wanted to do was taste your lips. But Natalie couldn’t find the words. So she said the only words she could find.

“I—I don’t have a problem with her.” Natalie began with a sigh, her fingers lifting to pick at her lip, her nervous habit showing. “I like her, she’s great. I just want you to be careful about jumping into something new, you have a history of being impulsive, Dave. And I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

Natalie was hurting. She was hurting so bad, but she wouldn’t show it.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Nat. I’m a big boy.” He responded with his goofy smile, David was back to being unsuspecting as he circled the counter to jokingly hug Natalie, smushing her against him. Natalie tried to shove him off, a smile breaking through as she grumbled, “Gross.”

Natalie thought her talk with David would buy her time. Time to get over the crush she told herself she didn’t have. But 24 hours was certainly not enough time to get over you.

You had been texting David all morning. He was insistent on you coming over to hang out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until you got to his house that you saw messages from him pour in.

WAIT

I won’t be home for like 2 hours idk

Jason is dumb

I’ll explain later

I’m sorry

Please tell me you haven’t left yet

Y/N

You smiled down at the screen, telling him not to worry. He didn’t need to know you were already at his house, you didn’t need to make him feel worse. Natalie’s car was in the driveway and you wondered if anyone was home. You hoped she would be as you walked to the front door, you were hoping you wouldn’t have to drive back to downtown LA just to come back later.

You couldn’t fight the smile that formed as you saw Natalie come to answer the front door. She looked shocked but happy and you hoped you weren’t being a bother by showing up at their house. As she greeted you, you took in her appearance. She was wearing spandex leggings and a cropped crew neck. It was something so simple but even you couldn’t deny the way she made everything she wore her own. Her hair fell loosely around her face as she pulled you into a hug. You could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume, inhaling as your cheek just barely grazed hers.

As you both pulled back from the hug, there was a strange energy in the air. You noticed that Natalie’s cheeks were tinted pink, her eyes refusing to meet yours.

“So what’s up? Dave’s not home, if you were looking for him.” She began, leading you further into the house.

“Oh, yeah I know. Right when I pulled up, he texted me that he won’t be home for a little while.” You sat down with her on the couch, turning to fully face her. You took it as an opportunity to really look at her. Her brown eyes moved back and forth between yours, you could tell she was trying to read you. “Thank God you were home, though.” You flashed her a smile and you saw the pinkness of her cheeks begin to bloom again. You couldn’t help but smirk at it.

“No-yeah of course.” She fumbled over her words, her eyes once again refusing to meet yours. As the TV played quietly in the background, you wanted to break the silence between you. You wanted to know more about Natalie, there was something about her that made you so curious.

You noticed that Natalie kept her distance—at least when it came to you. Until now, you had never gotten the chance to talk to her one-on-one, just the two of you, without the prying eyes and ears of the others. But when you had talked to her, you noticed how she listened to you so intently, as if she was hanging on to every word. You noticed the way her eyes would fall to your lips, then try to meet your eyes again before she could be caught. But you always saw. You saw the way her body shifted when you were around. You loved it. And right now all you wanted was to learn more about her.

“So you and David...” you began slowly, testing to see how she would react to your questioning, “you guys grew up together, right?”

She smiled at you, nodding. “Yes, neighbors to best friends to roomies.” Her voice light as she joked with you.

You chuckled back at her, your elbow coming to rest on the back of the couch, your head resting in your hand. “Sounds like the start of a beautiful rom-com.” You teased back at her, and she playfully rolled her eyes at you.

“Oh God no.” She stated bluntly, the two of you falling into a fit of giggles. As the silence fell around you again, you saw as her smile slowly fell, her eyes seeming dimmer than they were seconds ago. She cleared her throat.

“Y’know, David really likes you.” She spoke softly, she looked almost sad as she said it, her eyes meeting yours for a moment before falling to her hands. “Do you want anything to drink, by the way?” She asked rising from the couch, walking to the kitchen. All Natalie wanted was to put more space between the two of you, your proximity to her being far too much.

“Sure,” you began rising from the couch and following her to where she stood in the kitchen. “And yeah, I know he likes me. He’s not very good at being discreet.” You answered with a lightness in your voice, you tried to see how she reacted to everything you were saying. She chuckled in response.

“Sounds like him.” She smiled at you again, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. You wanted her to say something. Something that would let you know how she was really feeling, but Natalie’s walls were up high.

Natalie didn’t know what to say or do. It was already taking all of her will power to refrain from reaching across the space and finally getting to feel your lips on hers. She did the only thing she thought she could, she continued to play the role of the perfect best friend.

“So how do you feel about our golden boy?” She asked with a laugh that felt forced. You took a step closer to her and you noticed as Natalie shifted the slightest bit backwards. Interesting.

“He’s really sweet… charming, and hilarious, obviously.” You started, toying with the cap of the water. “I’m just-I don’t know yet if I see him in that way though... you know what I mean?” You questioned back, watching Natalie’s expression shift with the new information she was just given.

“I get it.” She said softly, she didn’t know what to say. Natalie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she nibbled on her bottom lip. You couldn’t stop watching.

“I think, when you find the person you want to be with, you’re sure. There’s something chemical and physical that draws you to that person, y’know?” You watched as Natalie visibly swallowed, her cheeks burning at your words.

Natalie mumbled back in agreement, you watched as she tried to discreetly wipe her palms on her thighs. You were loving how easy it was to get a reaction from her. How bad Natalie was at hiding how flustered she truly was. She released her bottom lip from where it was held between her teeth. Her mouth was already swollen and deep pink as she lifted her glass of water to her lips.

You slightly moved closer. “I just think I’ll know when I’m with him,” you paused, “or her.”

Natalie seemed to choke, some water sputtering out of her mouth. You smiled, chuckling at her reaction. Her eyes finally met yours, she was trying so hard to read you. You stepped closer into her space and Natalie took a sharp inhale, her hand reaching behind her to grasp the counter. Natalie couldn’t breathe, she saw the way your eyes were fixated on her lips. She didn’t know what to do.

You moved closer to her, your hand coming up to brush into her hair, twirling the stands through your fingers before letting it fall back on her shoulders. You felt her breath on your cheeks and you needed to be closer.

Your nose brushed hers as you rounded her face, your lips now grazing the shell of her ear. “Natalie.” You were tasting her name on your tongue and Natalie had never thought her name to be so beautiful until she heard it slip from your lips.

You moved your hand to gently tilt her jaw back, your thumb pushing upwards on the underside of her chin. Her lips were so much closer to yours. Just a taste, you told yourself as you moved to brush your lips just slightly against hers, Natalie almost whined.

“We shouldn’t.” The words came out as a whisper from Natalie’s lips. Her eyes flitting shut and her eyebrows pulling together in frustration. Natalie was trying so hard to be a good friend. The heat between her thighs making her want to cry.

“Nat, hey, Natalie,” you began, your hand cupping her cheek now. Her eyes finally opened again, they were watery and conflicted as they raced across your face, “when’s the last time you did something you wanted to do? Without thinking about consequences or everyone else’s needs but your own?”

She just kept staring at you. The brown of her eyes seemed to light a fire in the pit of your stomach.

You wanted her to do something, say something. Anything would be better than the piercing silence around you.

She reached up to where your hand was placed on her cheek, wrapping her fingers around your wrist. Now it was your turn to read her.

“Fuck it.” She spoke quickly, pushing her lips against yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, her doing the same.

The kiss turned from something curious to desperate, lips moving feverishly against each other. With your hand in her hair, your rings tangling the strands, the slight pulling caused Natalie to moan into your mouth. You took it as an invitation to skillfully slip your tongue past her lips.

Her hands gripped the exposed flesh of your waist, her hand slipping under your shirt to fondle with your bra.

You took back the control. You loved the way she tasted so sweet, all you wanted to do was feel more of her. You pushed her against the fridge, your free hand pushing her hip against the cool surface and she hissed at the contact. You detached your lips and Natalie immediately began to trail kisses across your jaw, slowly moving down your neck.

Natalie felt you pulse racing as she bit against your skin, her tongue following to sooth your neck. You reached your hand between your bodies, rubbing her through her leggings and she let out a groan.

“Please.” She begged, your fingers lightly brushing her heat through the material. Natalie shifted against your hand, needing more pressure.

You looked down between your bodies with a smirk, watching as your hand disappeared into her pants. Your middle and ring fingers immediately found her entrance, teasing in a circular motion as Natalie continued to squirm. You watched her whole body, her chest rapidly rising and falling, her knees just barely shaking.

You were interrupted by Natalie’s hand pulling your jaw back to face her, her lips fitting themselves between yours urgently. You finally gave in to her, your digits slipping in and out. Her moans tumbled into your mouth, and you swore you’d never heard something so beautiful. Your thumb circled her clit and her hand reached up to caress your breast.

You both were acting so primal and you tried to get as close as possible. Natalie felt like she was rushing against time, trying to savor every touch, every taste, before you might disappear.

The kitchen was filled with a chorus of moans as skin pressed against skin, your tongues brushing against each other. Natalie never wanted this feeling to end. But all things end, leaving only memories in their wake.

With your lips still attached you heard the front door open, followed by quick footsteps. You and Natalie pushed apart, the space between you leaving you both cold.

“Nat, we’re back!” David’s voice echoed through the front hall, you and Natalie increased the distance, trying to fix your disheveled and flustered appearances. “I saw Y/N’s car out front, is she—“

David stopped, rounding the corner to see you and Natalie on opposite sides of the kitchen. Natalie’s eyes were locked on his, as she tried to hold in all of her emotions, the throbbing between her thighs not ceasing. You looked between David and Natalie, keeping your expression calm as you discreetly wiped your fingers on the back of your jeans. All you wanted was to taste her on your fingers but that would have to wait. Your eyes fell back to Natalie, how she couldn’t look at you, her cheeks still bright red.

“Hey David.” You spoke, as he walked into the kitchen greeting you with a hug. You watched Natalie over David’s shoulder, her eyes meeting yours before looking down to her feet. “How was the shoot?”

“Not worth Jason’s bad mood, that’s for sure.” He joked, leading you toward the sofa. Natalie just trailed behind, she needed to not be in the room.

She fumbled over her words as she spoke, “Well, I’m going to go shower. Um it-it was nice talking to you Y/N.” You smiled at how even now her body’s reactions were controlled by you.

“We’ll talk soon, yeah?” Your eyebrow lifted, your eyes glinting with a playful expression. Natalie knew what you meant so she nodded and smiled, fleeing the room.

“Is she okay? She looks kinda sick.” David asked, plopping himself next to you on the couch.

You smiled back at him. Only you and her knowing that Natalie was more than okay. But you nodded at him, “Yeah, she just got a little hot.”

He accepted the answer letting the conversation flow to wherever his mind wanted to go. You smiled at him but the smile wasn’t for him. You could taste Natalie on your lips still, and fuck you couldn’t wait to do it again.

#natalie mariduena #natalie noel #natalinanoel #vlog squad #wvttvk #my writing #imagine

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Amazon Prime’s Invincible Had to Be Animated

https://ift.tt/2NIsLnL

Invincible comic writer Robert Kirkman has a gentlemanly agreement with Steven Yeun, who appeared in The Walking Dead for six seasons and now stars as the adapted Invincible’s titular hero.

“Steven and I have a rule that there’s no more popping his eyeballs out. I can live with that – once is enough,” Kirkman tells Den of Geek and other outlets during the series’ press day.

Kirkman’s imagination is as violent as it is vast. Yeun’s character Glenn Rhee on AMC’s The Walking Dead (based on the Kirkman comic of the same name) was a notable unfortunate recipient of that bloodlust when he was beaten to death with a barbed wire baseball bat in the show’s seventh season.

Now Yeun is providing his voice to Mark Grayson a.k.a. Invincible – the super-powered high schooler at the center of Amazon Prime’s adaptation of Kirkman’s comic. Steven (and Mark’s) eyeballs are safe for now…but very few other body parts are in this sprawling superhero tale.

Invincible first premiered in a preview as part of Image Comics’ Savage Dragon #102, more than a full year before Kirkman’s black and white zombie blockbuster The Walking Dead debuted. The character graduated to his own regular series in 2003, first illustrated by Cory Walker, and then by the prolific Ryan Ottley. The story of Mark Grayson ran, uninterrupted and with very few side arcs, for 15 years before concluding with issue #144 in 2018.

The appeal of Invincible can be hard to describe. At first glance, it’s a very conventional comic book story. Mark is the son of Nolan Grayson a.k.a. Omni-Man, an alien from the planet Viltrum and now Earth’s most powerful superhero (of which there are many). The series begins with Mark eagerly anticipating the arrival of his own superpowers and then embarking on an adventure of super self discovery, alongside a host of heroic allies and terrifying villains.

What sets Invincible apart, however, is its dedication to realistic storytelling. Mark is a very likeable, yet believably flawed young man.Kirkman’s sprawling 144-issue narrative meticulously follows Mark’s maturation and the ethical questions raised by a universe fit-to-bursting with invulnerable ubermensches.

There’s also the violence…oh the sweet, sweet violence. Ryan Ottley’s art in Invincible has a deep, abiding respect for the physics of super powers. Though the images may be colorful, the action depicted within them are shocking in their brutality. Nary does a bone go uncrunched or an intestine un-ripped out in Kirkman and Ottley’s hyper visceral world.

Naturally, Invincible was always a hot target for adaptation, particularly after AMC hit Kirkman zombie paydirt with The Walking Dead. But how exactly could any TV series fully capture the deliriously gory detail of Ottley’s art? The answer as it turns out is to just go ahead and adapt the art too.

Amazon Prime’s Invincible, the first season of which will be eight episodes, features animation from Wind Sun Sky Entertainment and Kirkman’s own Skybound. Kirkman himself is on board as a producer, alongside David Alpert, Catherine Winder, and Simon Racioppa (who serves as showrunner). The end result is an animation style that hews closely to the comic’s original art and often seems like Ottley’s illustrations in motion.

“The action is a little bit more brutal when things are moving. I think it’s going to serve to heighten things in the series,” Kirkman says.

While heightening the violent rhythms of Invincible seems like a wild proposition, the show’s star agrees that the animation does just that.

“You can go to places that live-action probably isn’t able to go to, even now,” Yeun tells Den of Geek and other outlets. “(Animation) creates a nice separation so that you can examine what the show might be saying without one-to-one comparison. Like that’s an actual arm being ripped off, but it’s a cartoon arm being ripped off. There’s just something different about that.”

Both Yeun and J.K. Simmons, who plays Nolan, note that the show’s kinetic sequences provide interesting voice acting challenges.

“What’s really fun is going back over in ADR and tracing back over these action sequences and these emotional moments. A lot of this show lives in those emotional moments that aren’t necessarily mixed in with dialogue, where a breath or a subtle way of gurgling blood in your mouth and trying to breath is its own kind of emotionality,” Yeun says.

“ADR is usually just ‘make this grunt.’ But because of the intensity of the violence and the stakes and the repercussions, it did feel much more emotionally connected doing the fight sequences,” Simmons adds.

The show’s animation style isn’t all about merely capturing the grunts and gurglings of blood, however. While Mark Grayson’s story begins relatively small, it eventually blossoms into an enormous superhero universe containing countless people, monsters, and worlds. Even in our era of technical sophistication where just about anything seems possible on television, Invincible is a hard sell as live-action.

According to Kirkman, animation was the only way to properly tell this story.

“The main benefit is that we’re going to be able to provide the audience with a scope and scale, more akin to a $200 million blockbuster movie than what you usually get from your average superhero television show,” Kirkman says. “Drawing an army of a thousand people is a little bit easier than hiring a thousand people and putting costumes on them and things like that. If we want to have three different alien invasions in the same episode, we can.”

Invincible Review (Spoiler-Free)

By Bernard Boo

Kirkman knows the limits of live-action television as well as anyone. Though The Walking Dead remains an enormous success for AMC, it has experienced quite a bit of casting turnover throughout the years with only Norman Reedus’s Daryl Dixon and Melissa McBride’s Carol Peletier remaining of the season 1 main cast in the show’s 11 seasons. Requesting that actors endure grueling television shooting schedules in the humid Atlanta summers for an undetermined number of years is a big ask as it turns out.

If depicted in live-action, the commitments of actors’ times and bodies would be even more brutal for the Invincible cast. And the cast of Invincible is set to be huge. The first season alone will star: Yeun as Mark Grayson, Simmons as Nolan Grayson, Sandra Oh as Debbie Grayson, Seth Rogen as Allen the Alien, Gillian Jacobs as Atom Eve, Andrew Rannells as William Clockwell, Zazie Beetz as Amber Bennett, Walton Goggins as Cecil Stedman, Jason Mantzoukas as Rex Splode, Zachary Quinto as Robot, and many, many more. (Check out the full list over here).

And that’s before the story begins to expand with more heroes and villains in later issues/seasons. The relatively smaller time commitments of voiceover acting in animation allows Kirkman and the series writers to keep the cast as large as needed, though Simmons notes that he, Yeun, and Oh all still get to act together in-studio.

Kirkman says the show is able to delve deeper into certain characters than the comics did, with figures like G-man Cecil Stedman and the Rorschach-esque Damian Darkblood getting more screen time.

“These are characters that I should know intimately, but getting to work with these actors and getting to hear these voices and how these performances come together, it’s like I’m meeting these characters again for the first time and the absolute best way,” Kirkman says. “I’m seeing new aspects to them that didn’t really exist before. It’s really making me more excited about moving forward with this show for many seasons with this cast.”

Yes, Kirkman and the rest of the Invincible cast already have “many seasons” in mind for the show. Whether those seasons will come to pass are up to Amazon and its subscribers. But it seems clear that animation was the right choice for the story’s scope was television was the right choice for its length.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The first three episodes of Invincible will premiere Friday, March 26 on Amazon Prime.

The post Why Amazon Prime’s Invincible Had to Be Animated appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lItwd9

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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comic-brew · 4 years

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On Smoldering Ashes

Chapter Two: If any more blood is to be spilt

@whumptober2020 days 3. Held At Gunpoint, 6. "Stop, Please", 9. "Take Me Instead", 14. Branding and 21. Stitches (Altprompt)

Series summary: Bruce Wayne has gotten vulnerable. Bruce Wayne has found love. His love and his kids are all he needs to find happiness. Some sick concept of fate doesn't like him being happy.

Notes: Forgive me for I have sinned. Oh god, oh lord, what in the blazing hells is this. Shitty shitty but I'm tired and late *drops mic* (37 mins/4.6k words I've exhausted tumblr's paragraph limit)

Warnings: RATED MATURE. Graphic depictions of child abuse and torture, graphic depictions of violence, blood, swearing, heavy I guess angst

AO3 | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

***

"Why" Dick hears Bruce's voice implore. "Why are you doing this? I thought-"

Bruce's merely balancing on his toes inches from the end of the cliff, Dick can figure just by the way his voice wavers like it has only ever done no more than a couple times in the past.

Cecile knows this. She knows Bruce, and she knows this. And quite possibly she's enjoying it way too much.

"Because, dear, who can say they're getting paid to practise their hobbies?"

Dick can only gawk at her, an frankly that's the only thing all the others seem able to do as well.

Hobbies?

They're nothing but a plaything to her.

It doesn't seem right. This shouldn't be happening. Dick should be helping B plan the wedding that made him beam just at the thought of taking place.

Not being held in an unknown location by his could-be step mother.

They really dodged a bullet, but in doing so they fell right into a different trap.

His family's unable to speak, stunned by the sudden revelations. He can't blame them, nor can he blame Jason for cursing under his breath.

Barbara's the first to snap out of their trance.

"What could you possibly want that Bruce's money couldn't get you?" she asks. Her true goal though, expertly weaved inside is search of Cecile's motive.

There's none.

Cecile giggles. "Oh dear. It's never about money. It's not personal either, if that's what's bugging all of you. And although my client does pay a fair amount, in reality.. pain and suffering are simply way too enjoyable."

Client, Dick notes. Somebody's paying for this. Somebody that most likely knows who they are when night falls. Somebody dangerous.

Cecile then turns to look directly at Bruce, as she expertly hides her poison inside cheerfully spoken words.

"And you, love, with as many kids as you have here,-" she says, and Bruce's face crumples, "-are going to be a very, very interesting subject"

Duke shakes his head in disbelief at the woman.

"You're sick"

Cecile sits back and ponders on this statement for a bit. Just for a split second, so it's enough to pass across that message, but not quite long to let them be freed from that entrapping mist of concurrent desire for knowledge, and repulse keeping them bound to every word that falls from her lips.

"Perhaps I am" she ventures.

"Perhaps we're all sick, just in different ways. Have you ever thought of that?"

Dick has in fact thought of that, but his answer would never share meaning with Cecile's. How different really are they from the people they fight? They lock all those costumed freaks up in Arkham, but they themselves could very well be described in the exact same way. Sometimes he wonders if they're insane for choosing this life, and the answer that his mind spits out is always yes.

Every life they save is worth it. That's the truth that makes him continue to put on the suit every night, even though the wounds inflicted on him the previous night are still healing.

But are they really making a difference? Aren't they just lunatics running around in kevlar and spandex. Isn't all the grime and mold of the city simply feeding off of them like leeches?

Dick can't focus on that now. Questioning his life choices might have to wait until he's not that tied up.

Heh. Tied up.

Meanwhile Cecile has exploited the moment of nonplussed silence she's created to tighten her sleek ponytail.

Keeping the attention to herself. Every move is calculated to milliseconds.

"Okay, so here's how this is going to go" she begins, clasping her hands together, then motioning towards their hanging limbs. "Do you see those cool little bracelets on your hands?"

On cue, nine heads tilt upwards to test Cecile's statement. And there, right on his forearm Dick can spot a faint blue light shining dully on what seems to be the middle of a silver-like device.

"Those give us, the immense pleasure of electrocuting you whenever you folks might try to escape, or cause any unwanted trouble" she informs, with her mouth taut into a completely mechanical smile.

"Or.. you know. If we're just bored and feel like it"

"And this little screen right in front of you, it's pretty bland now, if you ask me"

She then starts pacing around in the segregated room, seeming to find great amusement in hearing how her heels click against the concrete.

"Well what if I told you the sight will get more entertaining?"

Dick doesn't like this.

"Before you ask, I will not spoil the experience for you. But I will give you this: you will be the stars of a grand performance. You in particular, circus boy should be thrilled by this fact"

He flinches when he mentions him in that way. It's then that his mind fully comprehend just how much she knows them.

It's not just some kidnapping, of those they've had many before. But it's never been like this. Never has a stranger gotten so close only to betray them for laughs.

Some could argue that it was a similar case when Jason had come back, but Jason had always had a motivation. A goal.

Cecile's doing this for nothing else than pleasure.

Before he can compose himself and reply her voice strikes again, this time in the form of a snarl. "So? Any volunteers?"

No, Dick doesn't like this at all.

"Leave them alone" Bruce demands, only it's not precisely Bruce anymore. Not only has his voice assumed the dark edge of the Knight, but his speech is completely neutral, apathetic. Somehow, his emotional state is even more prominent that way.

"It's me you want to get back to"

"Oh, no" Cecile frowns. "No, no Brucie. This is not about you. Hell, it's not even about them. It's about me. And I say it will be nicer to leave you for last."

She rests a finger on her chin contemplatively, but it's fake. It's all fake, and provocatively so. Cecile's head twists around so that her malicious glare lands on Damian.

"How about our little asshole over here?"

No. Not Damian. Never in a million years. Never in a billion years.

"If you value your life you'll stay away you imbecilic Jezebel" Damian hisses, but Cecile makes no motion to enter their space. Instead, the man in black leaves his post to disappear behind the door Cecile had previously entered from, most likely leading even further away.

"I do value my life"

He comes back with three more identically dressed men, one slightly leaner than the other, and one slightly taller.

"Plenty, for that" she says loftily, and while one of the men returns to his post by her side, the other two barge in through a barely visible door next to the right end of the glass.

There's an outrage as the men quickly advance towards the boy. Everything's blurry and spinning and his ears are ringing so that Dick can't quite figure out if he's shouting along with his brothers and sisters or if he's simply been trapped in a lucid dream all this time.

Voices and bangs and thuds and yells, it all gets lost in the end. So much thunderous noice, yet still it can he broken down to its core. Raw and frantic cries of dissent, repeated over and over in a canon, until the words and senses are but a blurred collage of ire and desolation.

Cecile whips a rectangular device from her suit's pocket and before her finger has enough time to hover above one of the polished buttons, the last is pressed and Damian's body is released from the pipeline.

The boy wastes no time, immediately lunging for the men, and despite any rust slowing down his joints because of their inactivity, he manages to hold off the two men looming over him with size thrice his own.

Dick wants to hold hope inside his heart, but he knows it's futile. He also knows Damian is aware that this fight was lost before it even began, but his baby brother isn't a quitter, nor a coward by his own standards.

If Cecile is startled by Damian's fierce resistance, she doesn't let it show. Her finger finds the device held loosely in her grasp, and a different button is pushed. Sparks that are birthed from the device on Damian's forearm begin to climb throughout his every inch of flesh, until he soon collapses to the ground -like lifeless weight.

The men drag him out of their view, and Dick swears he witnessed a smirk manifesting on their faces while they yelled with all their might, yet completely powerless.

***

It starts with low and hollow grunts. It starts with insults, it starts with defiance, it starts with barely discernible hisses.

Most importantly, it starts with no image.

Only screams. Separated by breathless gasps.

"Please, stop"

Dick's heart shrinks into his chest, sinking deep, deep down, until his lungs are under too much pressure to expand.

The screen flickers to life only after the first hollow screams have subsided.

It's.. not a good sight. Nobody expected it to be.

The room is small and dark, the camera feed is black and white and grainy, but that doesn't help in reducing the horror.

The image focuses enough for Dick to make out Cecile finishing stitching deep gashes on Damian's torso back together in the worst way possible.

Cecile retracts her hand hastily, like she's forgotten something. She lolls her head to the side, waving primly towards the camera.

"Stay tuned for a surprise" she whispers almost conspiratorially before turning to Damian, severing the thread with her own fingers, picking at flesh and stretching it out until he's bleeding again all over the gurney he's tied onto.

Damian struggles not to let her hear the sound she would find oh so hedonic. He grits his teeth and grinds his jaw, but groans emanate from him without his consent.

Cecile sets the sutures and her other tools on a filthy table standing miserably beside her.

"Your brother's such an ass" she declares almost smugly, while shifting in her place to face the camera

Without a warning she pokes a finger inside Damian's open wound, evoking a strangled yelp of agony. Soon enough Cecile's retracted her finger. She brings her hand up to her face. She makes a show of admiring the fresh blood coating it, before she tastes it.

She giggles nonchalantly, but there's that certain grace to everything she does.

"Don't worry. We're not done yet"

No. No, this can't happen. He can't let this go on any longer than it already has.

He has to take his place. He'll take his brother's place. Just, god. Just please listen..

"Take me instead!" Dick screams at the top of his lungs, and the dread climbing up his ribcage seeps into his voice. Bent in ways abnormal, tuning in with his despair.

"Do you hear me?!"

He's flailing around wildly and almost hysterically, his voice is getting hoarser by the second. Kicking and bumping the air, but the chains are relentless, so that he's supposed to sit idly by and watch while his little brother is being tortured.

All alone in a dark room.

The man standing tall and unmoving on the other side of the glass only smirks slightly.

"Leave Damian alone!" Dick roars at the screen, and roars at the man, but he knows it's pointless.

Cecile smiles once again to the direction of the camera as she elegantly walks away from Damian, leaving him alone strapped to the gurney -panting, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Damian's head follows the woman even as she disappears out of Dick's sight. The boy's face crumples. Breathless pleas escape his trembling lips, in swift exhales of air that hold no power.

"Please no"

She reemerges cradling an incandescent piece of metal. The sickening calmness on her face is doused in its fiery glow, and all Dick can utter as he goes deathly pale and still is a breathless "No"

Dick finally has enough contact with reality to register his brothers and sisters' own twisting and shouting. The sounds are earpiercing but all hollow to his ears, and Dick only does acknowledge their existence by sight of tears on enraged faces, jaws snapping open with enough force to dislocate, muscles toned and clenched uncomfortably, bodies bent and struggling, in futile attempts to raise enough force and reach the glass to perhaps create a distraction.

Dick can't figure out the faces from his peripheral vision, nor does he care enough to try.

"No."

His eyes are stubbornly fixed on Damian's own, shining wide with terror as the metal illuminates his skin more and more clearly on the screen. On Damian, desperately tugging against the straps keeping him bound to the gurney to no avail, struggling to be freed before the red-hot iron burns the exposed skin of his chest.

"No.. please no" Damian mumbles, and he looks so small. Smaller than a child his age should look. More frightened than a child his age should be.

Dick had promised -to him and to himself- that he'd always be there for his little brother.

He watches helplessly as the metal sizzles the first layer of flesh. He watches as his little brother writhes and squirmes helplessly under the red-hot iron melting into his skin, and he realizes he can't keep his promise.

No, no, no, no, no

Damian is screaming with all his soul and all Cecile does is laugh. Cecile is laughing, and Damian is being tortured because Dick couldn't keep his promise.

He failed him.

"Take me!"

Please no. Not Dami.

Every inch and acre of Dick's skin feels set aflame, but the pain is nothing but the child of wildfire blazing and burning in his chest. Its smoke has filled his eyes with tears burning like acid.

Failed him.

In his ears buzz cracking woods and falling towers. Not his brother's screams and pleas for mercy, not the echoes of laughter, not the thundering cries of their family.

Failed.

And because of his failure his little robin is expected to endure agonizing pain, as also the wounds inflicted on him are what make Dick's failure not only discernible but grievous.

Failure equals repercussions.

Failure equals punishment.

Perhaps it's irrational, and perhaps he's lost his mind long, long ago. Perhaps this is all a nightmare that he can't wake up from, but Dick's senses don't deceive him.

His every cell is howling in despair but yelling and praying are not enough to relieve them of their pain. Flowers buried deep in ice, frantically searching for sunlight- too frantically to know that they're dead.

Dick failed him. Dick should have been the one punished for this failure.

Only moments have passed but the agony grabs them and twists them, draws them out until seconds can't be told apart by eons.

Dick's eyes are fixed on the form spasming on the screen, but those eyes are empty and hollow.

Their azure blue has evaporated, their glossy white has been burnt to the ground. Obsidian vortexes shining with the life they've stolen from his soul in the half light, is all that is left of them.

Damian's voice is rough from the perpetual screaming, but Dick can hear no more.

So he prays to whatever deity listens that Cecile is reached by his own cries tearing through his throat with fading intensity. Perhaps so loudly the air is grazing his vocal cords more harshly than it should.

Perhaps so loudly he is already silent.

But Dick won't mind it even if they fail to produce a sound ever after these, as long as his flesh is torn and burnt instead of Dami's.

The flesh being torn and burnt is his, in a way, but not in any way that matters.

The iron is removed and Damian's face slowly appears behind the sparse smoke of his own smoldering skin.

***

Cecile reappears behind the glass, walking ever so elegantly towards the barrier separating her from them. She peers at each and every one of them in amusement, deaf to te insults so full of hatred being hurled at her from every corner.

She smiles at the teary paths staining Cass and Barbara's cheeks,

"You fucking-"

"-embodiment of evil and-"

"go-"

She laughs at the veins popping on Duke, Jason and Stephanie's necks as they shout their lungs out, feebly attempting to stop the world from sinking,

"I'm gonna fucking kill you"

"Jay calm down-"

"You repulsive.. abomination-"

"-to hell-"

She gracefully snickers at Tim and Bruce's state of dishevelled resignation, a progression of the rage and agony to the point where they're no more prominent than their breathing,

"You hear me? You're going to burn-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm the fuck down, replacement"

"-in hell"

"He's right Jason, this doesn't help Dam-"

"you'll wish you were dead before I get my hands on you"

But she stops in her track when her piercing hazel eyes land on Dick. So visibly worn out, yet determinedly burning holes through her with his glare.

She stops, and can only regard him in newfound interest.

Dick doesn't shift in his place. Doesn't bat an eye as he speaks with the power of a thousand thunderstorms enhancing the calmness in his voice.

He's made up his mind.

It's his failure.

His decision.

"You'll stop" he says, almost nonchalantly.

Cecile cocks an eyebrow, scoffing.

"Excuse me?"

"You'll bring Damian back here with us. And you'll stop."

Cecile smirks ever so slightly. "I'm afraid I'm not quite done with your brother yet. Besides, why would I do that?"

"Because you will" Dick growls, but soon enough he masks his outburst beneath a carefully tailored poker face.

Something unreadable passes across the woman's face. Dick assumes she's caught up to his thinking. Of course she has.

"Well, you wound me!" Cecile exaggerates, clasping a hand to her chest. Overacting the entire thing, on purpose no less. She's proven to be too much of a hypocrite for Dick to know she's only acting terribly on purpose.

His stomach is urging him once more to let its contents out, only this time he's not sure it's just a lingering side effect of the drug.

"Although, while wounded, you can consider me intrigued."

Dick swallows thickly. He hopes Cecile doesn't hear him gulp as loudly as he sounds to his own ears.

"You'll stop. Leave Damian alone" he says and although his heart is beating a hundred times faster than it should, his stare is unyielding.

"And you'll take me instead"

Cecile eyes him half incredulously, half entertained, for moments that feels like an eternity. Dick is convinced his soul has already left his body, and the woman is simply left staring blankly at his hanging corpse.

She's still staring vacantly at his direction, with no indication of the fact changing.

But then she chuckles.

She chuckles, and soon snickers are finding their way up her throat one after the other, until her shoulders are shaking with laughter.

Yet the laughs escaping her are perfectly normal. Perfectly contained, just the average sound that could be prompted by an oddly funny joke. A joke so ridiculous it fulfills its purpose.

Perhaps that's the most terrifying part. How human it is.

And Dick is showered in cold sweat when he repeats himself, voice sounding just a little more tight and frantic than need be, but Cecile pays him no mind, laughing silently on her own.

Cecile -most likely pointedly- ignores his protests, which are growing more and more despondent as he's fumbling for words, caught somewhere in the crevasse dividing dread and ire.

"Do whatever you want to do to me! Just-"

He's just a child. Just an innocent child.

"-just leave Damian alone. And take me." Dick says.

An innocent boy caught in the crossfire of a war he never swore to fight, but was instead compelled to win.

His brother caught in the crossfire. His Dami.

His fault.

Dick's stuck in a loop. It doesn't end, it never does. Once it's starts there's no end to look forward to, there's merely one he can imagine, and they won't let him follow it.

All air leaves his lungs. Everything seems so peaceful when the flames tingling his heart have no more smoke to give.

"Take me."

His fault. His responsibility.

"Dick, no," Bruce pleads from behind him. Only then is it that he realizes the rest of them have grown silent, all eyes on him, reflecting the light nearly pensively.

Only then is it that he realizes he's been toeing the line of hysteria. That he doesn't know how to stop.

"B, I have to. I can't let Damia-"

"And I can't let any of you!" Bruce snaps. Dick is taken aback, only not due to the sonorous anger redirected towards him. Rather by the tears he can see glistening all over his father's irises.

Tears.

Shining all across his father's eyes.

Under the enemy's scrutinus gaze, and still he let the sorrow swim all the way up to the surface.

Cecile has stopped laughing. Openly at least, as her palm is covering her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the giggles, perhaps not wanting to disturb the show. The bright smile lighting her eyes betrays her nonetheless.

"You're my son, Dick. I can't let you do this. I can't let another of my children do this" Bruce concludes, never ending eye contact.

Never trying to deny the tears.

All Dick wants is to give in to the pain of his own, and let Bruce wipe at his eyes and tell him it's all going to be alright, just when he was little.

But he isn't little anymore, is he?

Is he?

Is he strong enough?

No. Not a question. He has to. He has to be-

"I was dead, I should go in next. There's nothing she can do to me that I haven't already gone through" his brother's voice cuts in, disrupting the debate that's been won in his mind, long before it even started.

"Half of us have died, Jason" Stephanie counters. "I don't mind going myself"

"You're not going Steph"

"I'll go then"

"The hell you are, replacement. You didn't make the cut for our club the first time, you'll not make it now.

"Are we seriously having this conversation right now?"

Cass clears her throat to get their attention.

"Me" she offers, and immediately after she's met with loud protests.

Dick watches as the others continue to fight between them, arguing on who should trade places with Damian. They can't understand that he has to do it. He doesn't expect them to. So when Cecile laughs and asks who's it going to be?, his decision is adamant.

"Like I said. It will be me" Dick insists.

He's not little anymore.

"No." Bruce says sternly. "No, you won't go. Do you hear me?"

He is strong enough. He has to be, so he's going to be.

Dick hears him, although elects to ignore him, staring proudly ahead, at the two men walking inside to retrieve him.

Bruce then is yelling, and the others protest, some are still fighting over which one of them should take Damian's place but it's already too late. The cuffs clink open and the two men go to stand by either of Dick's side as soon as his feet touch the ground.

Dick doesn't fight them. He doesn't mind being pushed around with his arms pressed behind his back so tightly his already sore muscles hurt as his arms are straining to bend backwards despite his flexibility. He doesn't mind, because he's doing it for his brother.

As long as his brother's safely reunited with the others, it doesn't matter whatever they might do to him.

Dick sends one last look to his family, and another full of a different kind of love directed right at Babs. He hopes his eyes delivers the thousand messages he doesn't have the time to relay with phrases.

The room is left in hush when the door slides closed behind him.

As far as looks go, Dick's were farewells.

As soon as Dick's dragged into the small room whose horrid purpose he's seen on camera, he spots Damian sitting upright against a corner, with a gun pressed to his temple.

Dick's shoulders stiffen and a breath catches on his throat. Still, it's all going to be alright. It's all going to be okay. Damian's going to be okay.

"I'd advise you not to try anything smart, or-"

"I won't" Dick interrupts sharply.

Cecile stands to the side and gestures towards a skeletal armchair with untied restraining straps. Dick shudders at the thought of how many people have suffered on this same chair, and his stomach fills with dread as the knowledge that he's next settles in.

"Grayson wh-"

"It's okay Dames" Dick says softly, scrambling to regain his composure as he's forced onto the blood stained metal by the men.

He winces when they securely latch the straps around his wrists and ankles, so tightly the leather is pressing into his skin, disrupting blood circulation.

Damian looks hurt and afraid, so Dick does his best swallow his own accelerating fear and suppress the shivers running down his spine, triggered by the icy feeling of metal on his skin.

"Everything is going to be okay"

Dick locks eyes with him and plasters something that feels like the poor excuse of a smile on his face, but he knows it must appear somewhat comforting to his little brother.

Masking his unraveling self beneath a charming smile and a lighthearted joke has always been his gift and curse.

Cecile clasps her hands together impatiently and nods towards the man holding the gun. He hastily shoves Damian into the arms of the leanest of the men, while his extended arm is turned around to point at Dick's head instead.

Damian yelps and as his arms are restrained behind his back, the hideous burn on his exposed chest comes into Dick's full view.

Dick's breath hitches despite himself and.. and..

It's...

The ghastly tendrils of burnt skin spreading across his little Robin's chest that spell out the word brat…

Dick could never describe the utter despair and pain and sorrow and ire and helplessness he feels, yet he doesn't have the time to stare right through the monstrosity etched onto his little brother's flesh as suddenly his chin is being pushed uncomfortably upwards by the barrel of the gun being pressed firmly against the soft skin right above his neck.

As Dick gulps, his Adam's apple bobs almost visibly on his inconveniently prolonged neck. The underlying dizziness finds the perfect opportunity to strike him again as his head slightly lolls backwards.

He no longer sees Damian, but amidst the sounds of his heartbeat echoing from inside the veins and taut muscles in his neck, a small and strangled Richard finds its way to his ears.

"I'm fine" Dick assures, even though he's nothing but. "I'll be fine. Love you, lil bro"

The absence of an answer doesn't concern him as much as that of shuffling or any indication that Damian is guided out of the room.

That is, until a delicate stray sniffle rips his heart apart.

If he could glance at his little Dami, he'd be able to see his reflection fall from his watering eyes in teardrops that he can no longer contain.

Dick can imagine the silently crying face, and so he shuts his eyes closed harshly, trapping inside all the pain and anguish lest it makes way to the surface

With a wavering voice he demands:

"Now let Damian go"

When he reopens his eyes with a breathy gasp he's all alone, bound to the metal skeleton of the chair.

Relief floods his heart.

If any more blood is to be spilt, it shall be his.

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thtdamfangirl4 · 4 years

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Saying Goodbye to The Good Place

Tonight I watched one of my favorite shows in history end. I watched it live with freaking commercials and I tuned out the rest of the world. And I cried my eyes out so many times. And I don’t know how well I can explain that, or how exactly to put into words what this show has meant to me, but I’m going to cry.

I started watching this show when season 2 came on Netflix. I had heard good things about it online and a friend or two had watched it, so I decided to give it a try. (I had watched the first, like, 2 episodes months before but hadn’t kept going or given it a real chance.) I found myself completely hooked. I watched the first season in two days and had finished everything the show had to offer by the end of the week, diving into tumblr accounts, twitter threads, the cast’s social media pages. None of that is uncommon for me when I first become obsessed with a show.

But The Good Place was uncommon. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and remains so to this day. It had fabulous humor in many facets, from Jason’s lovable idiocy to Chidi’s relatable indecision to Eleanor’s perfectly captured selfishness to Tahani’s name-dropping to Janet’s cacti to Michael’s comments about humans and the dynamics between them all and so much more. And the show, the writers, balanced all of that with so much heart. With Eleanor’s drive to be better. With Chidi’s ever-present willingness to help. With Jason’s unexpected and loving wise advice. With Tahani’s desire to be loved. With Michael’s growing understanding of humans and our lives. With Janet’s evolution and coming to understand what it means to feel and to love. And it was absolutely beautiful to watch these characters go through whatever they might go through in a given episode. I would watch this balance of perfectly imperfect in any situation you put on my screen.

But the writers and creators put them in a situation I’d never imagined would be on TV: discovering morality and spirituality in the afterlife. These characters navigated dilemmas we all face in our everyday lives. They made jokes and went through ridiculous scenarios and reboots and they messed up and tried time and time again, and through it all, we the viewers were learning. To be good. To be better. Maybe not necessarily by copying these characters, and certainly not their lives on earth, but by inspiring us to think about these questions and the implications of our lives. This show was a lovely escape from reality for 22 minutes until the picture faded and I found myself contemplating the things Chidi’s ethics class had tackled that week, or thinking about my own actions, what my version of the good place would be. All in all, this show made me think about the kind of person I want to be. And it actually made me a better person.

I think a lot about the little speeches made on this show, which have been anything but little to me. (Don’t get me started on Chidi’s wave speech I’ll be crying about it every day forever.) And I find myself thinking about what Michael says to Bad Janet almost every day. That what matters is that we try to be a little better today than we were yesterday. That that’s where hope for humanity lies. And that thought, that simple thought which should not boggle the mind of any decent human being, is groundbreaking. Because these simple and profound truths about the universe and humanity were nestled in every single episode of the good place, right there between jokes about Jason’s dance crew and Janet’s void. And they found their way into our lives, and I know that even just watching this show once a week was one of the things that made me a better person that day. Which is why I’m so grateful to this show.

Eleanor taught me that it’s okay to make mistakes. That being a little trashy is always fun as long as you have a good heart. And she and Chidi taught me that love is out there. That soulmates are something you make, not something you find, and that even if you can’t understand why at first, people who love you are going to come into your life and the real ones won’t disappear. She taught me that the walls have to come down someday, and that when they do, the view is so much better. Most importantly, she taught me that nothing is ever set in stone. That people can change and get better and learn to love and care and be loved and cared for.

Chidi taught me that the little things can’t hold me back. I felt seen by his (albeit, exaggerated) indecision and anxiety. But he grew throughout this show and through his journey, I learned to move aside the little struggles to make room for the big joys. I learned that helping someone is always worth my time, because even if I never see them again, or I never get thanked, I’m putting a little more good into the world. And he would always do that. He taught me that it’s okay to come into your own and stand up for yourself and what you believe in. He and Eleanor taught me that there’s always someone out there who has your back, and that love means putting someone else first. I especially saw that in the finale.

Tahani taught me that it’s okay to know who I am. That confidence is something each person deserves to feel. She taught me that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, as long as you remind yourself that it doesn’t determine your worth. She taught me that mistakes are a tool for learning, but they can’t be used if we pretend we didn’t make them. She taught me that it’s okay to be a little frivolous when frivolity brings you joy. She taught me that spite can be a great motivator, but the results are much more fruitful and enjoyable when you do things for other people.

Jason taught me that I don’t have to have all the answers. That there’s more to life than numbers and books and school and all the things that give a college student looking at the future anxiety. He taught me that it’s love that matters, and doing the things that bring you joy. He taught me that people are not always what they appear to be at first glance, and that everyone has something worthwhile to say. He taught me that words don’t have to be fancy or eloquent to be poignant and meaningful. He taught me that embracing who you are and what/who you love is what makes a person happy.

Janet taught me that knowledge isn’t everything. She reinforced the idea that emotions are not inferior or contrary to facts and knowledge, but rather something even deeper and more meaningful than trivia or information that could come from google. She taught me that life is a complicated mess full of millions of questions, and there are some that cannot be answered. She taught me that you love who you love, even if it’s unexpected, and there is zero shame in that. And she taught me that one of the noblest pursuits in the world is that of making people happy, especially the people you love.

Michael taught me that humans are complex, and sometimes they kind of suck, but they are still worth loving. He proved that people are not all good or all bad. He taught me that what matters is trying to be good and kind and honest and loving. He taught me not to give up on what I know is right. He taught me that it’s okay to change your mind when you learn new things, and that it’s more than okay to decide to do what’s right at any stage in the game. He taught me that people are worth believing in. He taught me that being wrong can be one of the most rewarding things in the world. And he taught me that the human life we have is a gift.

Together, these characters taught me that we are all capable of changing and improving. They taught me that it’s okay to be who you are, even if a lot of things change. You can still be loved for all of your little quirks and flaws and habits. You are worthy of being loved even if you aren’t the best version of you yet. And they taught me that we can all get there eventually. More than anything, they taught me that the love we have for each other, the bonds we build with the people in our lives, the friends, the family, the significant others, everyone, is what makes us human and what makes us whole. It drives us to be better and to make others happy. It supports us and holds us as we grow together.

So I just want to say thank you. To Michael Shur for creating this show and its characters. To the writers for making me fall in love with these people and stories. To Kristen Bell and Ted Danson and William Jackson Harper and Jameela Jamil and Manny Jacinto and D’Arcy Carden for bringing these characters to life and making them into people that I will never be able to let go of. To anyone involved with this beautiful show that I have enjoyed through the very end. Thank you for giving me a reason to laugh, cry, contemplate, and feel content with a show that was groundbreaking and stunning and hilarious and heartwarming with thousands of good moments and a perfect ending. These characters will always be a part of my heart, and I will always try to be a little better tomorrow than I was today because of them. Thank you, and goodbye to new episodes. I have a feeling I’ll be watching all the ones which are now old time and time again.

#the good place #tgp #eleanor shellstrop #chidi anagonye #michael #tahani al jamil #jason mendoza #janet #kristen bell #ted danson #william jackson harper #jameela jamil #manny jacinto #d'arcy carden #michael shur #goodbye good place

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felassan · 4 years

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Insights into DAI’s development from Blood, Sweat, and Pixels

The book is by game industry journalist Jason Schreier (it’s an interesting read and well-written, I recommend it). This is the cliff notes version of the DAI chapter. This info isn’t new as the book is from 2017 (I finally got around to buying it). Some insight into DAO, DA2 and cancelled DA projects is also given. Cut for length.

BW hoped that DA would become the LotR of video games. DAO’s development was “a hellish seven-year slog”

The DAI team are compared to a chaotic “pirate ship”, which is what they called themselves internally. “It’ll get where it needs to go, but it’s going to go all over the place. Sail over here. Drink some rum. Go over here. Do something else. That’s how Mark Darrah likes to run his team.” An alternative take from someone else who worked on the game: “It was compared to a pirate ship because it was chaotic and the loudest voice in the room usually set the direction. I think they smartly adopted the name and morphed it into something better.”

A game about the Inquisition and the large-scale political conflicts it solves across Thedas, where the PC was the Inquisitor, was originally the vision for ‘DA2′. Plans had to change when SW:TOR’s development kept stalling and slipping. Frustrated EA execs wanted a new product from BW to bolster quarterly sales targets, and decided that DA would have to fill the gap. BW agreed to deliver DA2 within 16 months. “Basically, DA2 exists to fill that hole. That was the inception. It was always intended to be a game made to fit in that”

BW wanted to call it DA: Exodus, but EA’s marketing execs insisted on DA2, no matter what that name implied

DAO’s scope (Origin stories, that amount of big areas, variables, reactivity) was just not doable in a year, even if everyone worked overtime. To solve this problem, BW shelved the Inquisition idea and made a risky call: DA2 would be set in one city over time, allowing locations to be recycled and months to be shaved off dev time. They also axed DAO features like customizing party members’ equipment. These were the best calls they were able to make on a tight line

Many at BW are still proud of DA2. Those that worked on it grew closer from all being in it together

In certain dark accounting corners of EA, despite fan response to DA2 and its lower sales compared to DAO, DA2 is considered a wild success

By summer 2011 BW decided to cancel DA2′s expansion Exalted March in favor of a totally new game. They needed to get away from the stigma of DA2, reboot the franchise and show they could make triple-A quality good games.

DAI was going to be the most ambitious game BW had ever made and had a lot to prove (that BW could return to form, that EA wasn’t crippling the studio, that BW could make an ‘open-world’ RPG with big environments). There was a bit of a tone around the industry that there were essentially 2 tiers of BW, the ME team and then everyone else, and the DA team had a scrappy desire to fight back against that

DAI was behind schedule early on due to unfamiliar new technology; the new engine Frostbite was very technically challenging and required more work than anyone had expected. Even before finishing DA2 BW were looking for a new engine for the next game. Eclipse was creaky, obsolete, not fully-featured, graphically lacking. The ME team used Unreal, which made inter-team collab difficult. “Our tech strategy was just a mess. Every time we’d start a new game, people would say, ‘Oh, we should just pick a new engine’.”

After meeting with an EA exec BW decided on Frostbite. Nobody had ever used it to make an RPG, but EA owned FB dev studio DICE, and the engine was powerful and had good graphic capabilities & visual effects. If BW started making all its games on FB, it could share tech with sister studios and borrow tools when they learned cool new tricks.

For a while they worked on a prototype called Blackfoot, to get a feel for FB and to make a free-to-play DA MP game. It fizzled as the team was too small, which doesn’t lend itself well to working with FB, and was cancelled

BW resurfaced the old Inquisition idea. What might a DA3 look like on FB? Their plan by 2012 was to make an open-world RPG heavily inspired by Skyrim that hit all the beats DA2 couldn’t. “My secret mission was to shock and awe the players with the massive amounts of content.” People complained there wasn’t enough in DA2. “At the end of DAI, I actually want people to go, ‘Oh god, not [another] level’.”

It was originally called Dragon Age 3: Inquisition

BW wanted to launch on next-gen consoles only but EA’s profit forecasters were caught up in the rise of iPad and iPhone gaming and were worried the next-gen consoles wouldn’t sell well. As a safeguard EA insist it also ship on current-gen. Most games at that time followed this strategy. Shipping on 5 platforms at once would be a first for BW

Ambitions were piling up. This was to be BW’s first 3D open-world game, and their first game on Frostbite, an engine that had never been used to make RPGs. It needed to be made in roughly two years, it needed to ship on 5 platforms, and, oh yeah, it needed to restore the reputation of a studio that had been beaten up pretty badly. “Basically we had to do new consoles, a new engine, new gameplay, build the hugest game that we’ve ever made, and build it to a higher standard than we ever did. With tools that don’t exist.”

FB didn’t have RPG stats, a visible PC, spells, save systems, a party of 4 people, the same kind of cutscenes etc and couldn’t create any of those things. BW had to create these on top of it. BW initially underestimated how much work this would be. BW were the FB guinea pigs. Early on in DAI’s development, even the most basic tasks were excruciating, and this impacted even fundamental aspects of game design and dev. When FB’s tools did function they were finicky and difficult. DICE’s team supported them but had limited resources and were 8 hours ahead. Since creating new content in FB was so difficult, trying to evaluate its quality became impossible. FB engine updates made things even more challenging. After every one, BW had to manually merge and test it; this was debilitating, and there were times when the build didn’t work for a month or was really unstable.

Meanwhile the art department were having a blast. FB was great for big beautiful environments. For months they made as much as possible, taking educated guesses when they didn’t know yet what the designers needed. “For a long time there was a joke on the project that we’d made a fantastic-looking screenshot generator, because you could walk around these levels with nothing to do. You could take great pictures.”

The concept of DAI as open-world was stymying the story/writers and gameplay/designers teams. What were players going to do in these big landscapes? How could BW ensure exploring remained fun after many hours? Their teams didn’t have time for system designers to envision, iterate and test a good “core gameplay loop” (quests, encounters, activities etc). FB wouldn’t allow it. Designers couldn’t test new ideas or answer questions because basic features were missing or didn’t exist yet.

EA’s CEO told BW they should have the ability to ride dragons and that this would make DAI sell 10 million copies. BW didn’t take this idea very seriously

BW had an abstract idea that the player would roam the world solving problems and building up power or influence they could use. But how would that look/work like in-game? This could have used refinement and testing but instead they decided to build some levels and hope they could figure it out as they went.

One day in late 2012, after a year of strained development on DAI, Mark Darrah asked Mike Laidlaw to go to lunch. “We’re walking out to his car,” Laidlaw said, “and I think he might have had a bit of a script in his head. [Darrah] said, ‘All right, I don’t actually know how to approach this, so I’m just going to say it. On a scale of one to apocalyptic... how upset would you be if I said [the player] could be, I dunno, a Qunari Inquisitor?’”

Laidlaw was baffled. They’d decided that the player could be only a human in DAI. Adding other playable races like Darrah was asking for would mean they’d need to quadruple their budget for animation, voice acting, and scripting.

“I went, ‘I think we could make that work’,” Laidlaw said, asking Darrah if he could have more budget for dialogue.

Darrah answered that if Laidlaw could make playable races happen, he couldn’t just have more dialogue. He could have an entire year of production.

Laidlaw was thrilled. “Fuck yeah, OK,” he recalled saying.

MD had actually already realized at this point it’d be impossible to finish DAI in 2013. They needed at least a year’s delay and adding the other playable races was part of a plan/planned pitch to secure this. He was in the process of putting together a pitch to EA: let BW delay the game, and in exchange it’d be bigger and better that anyone at EA had envisioned. These new marketing points included playable races, mounts and a new tactical camera. If EA wouldn’t let them delay, they would have had to cut things. Going into that BW were confident but nervous, especially in the wake of EA’s recent turmoil where they’d just parted ways with their CEO and had recruited a new board member while they hunted for a new one. They didn’t know how the new board member would react, and the delay would affect EA’s projections for that fiscal year. Maybe it was the convincing pitch, or the exec turmoil, or the specter of DA2, or maybe EA didn’t like being called “The Worst Company in America”. Winning that award 2 years in a row had had a tangible impact on the execs and led to feisty internal meetings on how to repair EA’s image. Whatever the reasons, EA greenlit the delay.

The PAX Crestwood demo was beautiful but almost entirely fake. By fall 2013, BW had implemented many of FB’s ‘parts’, but still didn’t know what kind of ‘car’ they were making. ML and team scripted the PAX demo by hand, entirely based on what BW thought would be in the game. The level & art assets were real but the gameplay wasn’t. “Part of what we had to do is go out early and try to be transparent because of DA2. And just say, ‘Look, here, it’s the game, it’s running live, it’s at PAX.’ Because we wanted to make that statement that we’re here for fans.”

DA2 hung on the team like a shadow. There was insecurity, uncertainty, they had trouble sticking to one vision. Which DA2 things were due to the short dev time and which were bad calls? What stuff should they reinvent? There were debates over combat (DAO-style vs DA2-style) and arguments over how to populate the wilderness.

In the months after that demo, BW cut much of what they’d shown in it. Even small features went through many permutations. DAI had no proper preproduction phase (important for testing and discarding things), so leads were stretched thin and had to make impulsive decisions.

By the end of 2013, DAI had 200+ people working on it, and dozens of additional outsourced artists in Russia and China. Coordinating all the work across various departments was challenging and a full-time job for several people. At this sheer scale of game dev, there are many complexities and inter-dependencies. Work finally became significantly less tedious and more doable when BW and DICE added more features to FB. Time was running out though, and another delay was a no.

The team spent many hours in November and December piecing together a “narrative playable” version of the game to be the holiday period’s game build for BW staff to test that year. Feedback on the demo was bad. There were big complaints on story, that it didn’t make sense and was illogical. Originally the PC became Inquisitor and sealed the breach in the prologue, which removed a sense of urgency. In response the writers embarked on Operation Sledgehammer (breaking a bone to set it right), radically revising the entire first act.

The other big piece of negative feedback was that battles weren’t fun. Daniel Kading, who had recently joined BW and brought with him a rigorous new method for testing combat in games, went to BW leadership with a proposal: give him authority to open his own little lab with the other designers and call up the entire team for mandatory play sessions for test purposes. They agreed and he used this experiment to get test feedback and specifically pinpoint where problems were. Morale took a turn for the better that week, DK’s team made several tweaks, and through these sessions feedback ratings went from 1.2 to 8.8 four weeks later.

Many on the team wished they didn’t have to ship for old consoles (clunky, less powerful). BW leadership decided not to add features to the next-gen versions that wouldn’t be possible on the older ones, so that both versions of the game played the same. This limited things and meant the team had to find creative solutions. “I probably should’ve tried harder to kill [the last-gen] version of the game”, said Aaryn Flynn. In the end the next-gen consoles sold very well and only 10% of DAI sales were on last-gen.

“A lot of what we do is well-intentioned fakery,” said Patrick Weekes, pointing to a late quest called “Here Lies The Abyss”. “When you assault the fortress, you have a big cut scene that has a lot of Inquisition soldiers and a lot of Grey Wardens on the walls. And then anyone paying attention or looking for it as you’re fighting through the fortress will go, ‘Wow, I’m only actually fighting three to four guys at a time.’ Because in order for that to work [on old gen], you couldn’t have too many different character types on screen.”

Parts of DAI were still way behind schedule because it was so big and complex, and because some tools hadn’t started functioning until late on. Some basic features weren’t able to be implemented til the last minute (they were 8 months from ship before they could get all party members in the squad. At one point PW was playtesting to check if Iron Bull’s banter was firing, and realized there was no way to even recruit IB) and some flaws couldn’t be identified til the last few months. Trying to determine flow and pacing was rough.

They couldn’t disappoint fans again. They needed to take the time to revise and polish every aspect of DAI. “I think DAI is a direct response to DA2,” said Cameron Lee. “DAI was bigger than it needed to be. It had everything but the kitchen sink in it, to the point that we went too far... I think that having to deal with DA2 and the negative feedback we got on some parts of that was driving the team to want to put everything in and try to address every little problem or perceived problem.”

At this point they had 2 options: settle for an incomplete game, which would disappoint fans especially post-DA2, or crunch. They opted to crunch. It was the worst period of extended overtime in DAI’s development yet and was really rough: late nights, weekends, lost family time, 12-14 hour days, stress, mental health impacts.

During 2014′s crunch, they finally finished off features they wished they’d nailed down in year 1. They completed the Power (influence) system and added side quests, hidden treasures and puzzles. Things that weren’t working like destructible environments were promptly removed. The writers rewrote the prologue at least 6 times, but didn’t have enough time to pay such attention to the ending. Just a few months before launch pivotal features like jumping were added.

By summer BW had bumped back release by another 6 weeks for polish. DAI had about 99,000 bugs in it (qualitative and quantitative; things like “I was bored here” are a bug). “The number of bugs on an open-world game, I’ve never seen anything like it. But they’re all so easy to fix, so keep filing these bugs and we’ll keep fixing them.” For BW it was harder to discover them, and the QA team had to do creative experimentation and spend endless late nights testing things. PW would take builds home to let their 9 year old son play around. Their son was obsessed with mounting and dismounting the horse and accidentally discovered a bug where if you dismounted in the wrong place, all your companions’ gear would vanish. “It was because my son liked the horse so much more than anyone else ever had or will ever like the horse.”

MD had a knack for prioritizing which bugs should be fixed, like the one where you could get to inaccessible areas by jumping on Varric’s head. “Muscle memory is incredibly influential at this point. Through the hellfire which is game development, we’re forged into a unit, in that we know what everyone’s thinking and we understand everyone’s expectations.”

At launch they still didn’t have all their tools working, they only had their tools working enough.

DAI became the best-selling DA game, beating EA’s sales expectations in just a few weeks. If you look closely you can see the lingering remnants of its chaotic development, like the “garbage quests” in the Hinterlands. Some players didn’t realize they could leave the area and others got caught in a “weird, compulsive gratification loop”. Internet commentators rushed to blame “those damn lazy devs” but really, these were the natural consequences of DAI’s struggles. Maybe things would have been different if they’d miraculously received another year of dev time, or if they’d had years before starting development to build FB’s tools first.

“The challenge of the Hinterlands and what it represented to the opening 10 hours of DAI is exactly the struggle of learning to build open-world gameplay and mechanisms when you are a linear narrative story studio,” said Aaryn Flynn.

“DA2 was the product of a remarkable time-line challenge,” said Mike Laidlaw, “DAI was the product of a remarkable technical challenge. But it had enough time to cook, and as a result it was a much better game.”

Read the chapter for full details of course!

#dragon age #bioware #video games #SW:TOR #mass effect #I've seen plenty of this info discussed in articles/thinkpieces and on online communities over the years #but it's nice to read it first hand #some very insightful stuff here #these behind the scenes looks are very valuble #a lot of DAI's elements make sense given the context and what was going on in the background and the tech challenges they faced etc #be kind and respectful to devs folks they're human beings #also in general this book is really interesting and easy to read #funny in places too #it has lots of other chapters on lots of other games including Stardew Valley #I def recc buying it #anyway hope this post is useful/interesting to someone!#oh and as always support good treatment of game devs #crunch culture in the industry is harmful and exploitative

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