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lu-dao-writes · 3 months

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— 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝙃𝙪𝙖 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙜)

꒰ྀི 🥀ˎˊ˗ 𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 He loves you not.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Spoilers, cheating, hurt no comfort, HC’s unapologetic devotion for XL in front of you, rough sex, HC is not so great in this one, jealousy, gn!reader, mention of using sex as a coping mechanism, minimum editing.

𝘼/𝙉 I’m getting back into my danmei lmaoo. It’s nice to also post short pieces since I’ve been burnt out with long projects. So also I’m aware of the whole statute scene, but I didn’t go into depth because I’m not that far🥲. But I also appreciate all the likes I’ve gotten on my TGCF stuff! Also uh… This definitely also gave me vibes. Idek if the song works completely but it’s 🥵MINORS/AGELESS DNI! ⋆💔˚｡⋆ ྀི꒱

Edited 01/24/24: I made a whoopsie on the timeline. I mistaken chapters and pages like a dummy 😅😅. Holy balls I’m sorry y’all🤣.

Never did you imagine catching the Huā Chéng’s attention nor having his good graces.

You are nothing but a simple god in the heavens. Nothing highly praised, but important enough to be recognized and worshiped.

Of course you kept your meetings a secret and you enjoyed every small moment you had with him, after all, he is a very busy man, one of the four calamities in the ghost realm. You understand the workload.

You love him though with all his perfect and imperfections.

But…

You noticed a change as of late, and it all started when crown prince Xiè Lián arrived in the heavens for the third time apparently.

You knew very little of him initially, but you gathered the opinions of others due to the nasty things that were spewed from one mouth to another.

Obviously this wouldn’t do, so you opted to help him with the case in Mount Yujun, and you weren’t alone. Two “junior” officials also join you as well, and though they’re incredibly amusing, they’re also a headache as usual.

Anyways. While on this mission Xiè Lián was anything but what was being said in the heavens by the other gods. He’s incredibly humble, kind, has strong morals, and is charitable. A perfect friend to have in your life.

You don’t pry into his history, and you can tell he’s appreciative of that.

Once the mission is over with you come to your own conclusion and don’t regret it. You planned to even come visit him and help him out at his shrine until that familiar presence has you frozen in place.

What is Huā Chéng doing here..?

You left before you could be detected, fleeing back to your little palace and drowning yourself in your duties while unwillingly being stuck in your thoughts as well.

As days go by you note that when your beloved finally comes to you, it’s after his highness returns from another mission…

Huā Chéng is overwhelmed with emotions, that much is obvious when he grabs you so tight, his body tense and shoulders trembling just faintly.

His turmoil distracts you from your unsteady heart and you offer to remedy his burdens by being the one to lovingly service him.

But he turns your offer down.

Instead he resorts to his usual, just putting you on your hands and knees and then making you ride him with your back facing him when he grows tired of doing the work.

You’ve… Never had too much of a problem with this, the positions always hitting you deeply in those special, toe curling spots, and honestly he fucks you dumb to the point you got no thoughts.

But this didn’t soothe your paranoia, and you weren’t sure how to bring it up to him.

So you resort to soothing yourself.

‘It’s just insecurity. I’m just blowing it out of proportion.. Huā Chéng loves me.’

It only works for so long.

After that night Huā Chéng became distant again and soon did the unthinkable.

He snatched Xiè Lián from his palace where he was made to be confined in, and made a nice little show about it in the communication array.

You were dazed and hurt, not sure what his plans were and why he’s so infatuated with Xiè Lián. You weren’t sure if he wanted to hurt him or…

Or…

Your chest is heavy, but you push through and go with Fēng Xìn and Mù Qíng to find the runaway duo.

In the end, you wished to have just stayed tucked away in your palace, distracting yourself with your work for a moment longer than seeing this .

There’s many.. Many statues of Xiè Lián, all depicting a specific moment in his and Huā Chéng’s lifetime, or just because Huā Chéng wants another beautiful image of the crown prince.

It’s sick and painful. Your body trembling and your mind sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss that’s your proven thoughts.

Some can say it’s romantic.. Other can say it’s creepy. Pick your poison. But you felt humiliated above all else. It makes you question whether your relationship was even real this entire time.

When Huā Chéng makes his sudden appearance, he doesn’t even look ashamed, his attention and concern solely on Xiè Lián.

When you finally managed to leave Ghost City, like usual, you locked yourself away and finally exploded, taking your anger out on some of your furniture before sobbing on the cold floor, nothing but the shadows on the wall to comfort you in your grief.

All along Huā Chéng has been devoted to and in love with Xiè Lián.

The times you’ve had sex you’re sure he’s imagined him in your place.

In the meantime you were just something to keep him occupied until he had his chance.

You felt used and foolish and you had a tidal wave of resentment for Huā Chéng at his callousness.

And unfortunately you couldn’t help but have a little resentment for Xiè Lián…

You only distanced yourself from him and his party of growing allies, ignoring the hurt in his eyes when you brush him off, and ignoring him when he came to your palace asking for you and checking on you.

Your bitterness was just too immense.

You assume that no one knows still about you and your one sided relationship with Huā Chéng, otherwise you’re sure your doors would’ve been blown open and you’d be dragged into court for an interrogation by now.

Huā Chéng has yet to face you, and it hurts, but you’re not surprised either. You’re sure you’re not going to get an apology either.

Love truly can be a curse…

But for now you’ll let yourself mourn and stew in your anger. You’ll throw a small pity party for yourself and be a little destructive.

“Hi…! I know it’s late and this is completely random, but is that offer still available…?”

“Of course, come right on in~.”

You only hope that Péi Míng doesn’t pry too much…

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friendlybowlofsoup · 8 months

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Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

#writing update

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clockwayswrites · 1 year

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Like Betta Fish Do - Part 12

Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts.

wc 2295 (Chapter 9 when on ao3)

“Hey, it’s Danny, right?” asked the person standing next to Danny’s seat. They shifted, tucking a long strand of pitch black hair behind their ear.

“Yes?”

“We thought—”

“She thought,” said the woman who practically barreled into the first speaker’s back. She hooked her chin over the other’s shoulder with a grin as she adjusted her hijab. “Cloe thought, but we all agree.”

“Which is why I said we, I’m Cloe, this is Fara, that guy over there is José.” She motioned to a young man with a head full of curly brown hair and an easy smile waiting by the door. “We need a fourth for the group project, want to join us?”

“Me?” Danny repeated in surprise. No one in Casper High ever wanted him on a team, not unless it was Tucker and Sam.

“Totally. Your comment today on the possible advancements of propulsion technology was just the sort of thing that we’d love to do our topic on. It didn’t look like you had a group?”

“No, I don’t, not yet. That would be nice,” Danny said with a crooked smile. He’d been worried about having to find a group to work with so the offer was a huge weight off. Honestly the presentation was way too much of their grade in his opinion (but maybe that’s just because he had been dreading it).

“That’s great!” Cloe smiled back at him. “Do you have time to meet now? Just, like, to a coffee shop or the library. We can hash out the basics and what everyone should research before we meet up again the next time.”

“Sure. I could almost always use a coffee,” Danny said as he shoved his aging laptop in his backpack.

“Yeah, we can kinda tell with the…” Fara pointed at her own face, finger circling around her eyes.

Danny barked out a surprised laugh when Cloe let out an affronted “Fara!”

“Hey, I’ve been cultivating these dark circles since high school. They’re like fine wine,” Danny said. Snarky he knew how to handle.

“Oh, José will like you,” Fara said with a laugh. She linked arms with Danny and practically dragged him towards the door. “José! I found you another coffee addict.”

“Thank you,” he praised, “because Cloe only drinks the most basic bitch drinks and Fara likes tea.”

“I make an exception for pumpkin spiced lattes and hot chocolate,” Fara said with coy smile.

“See? See what I have to put up with. Please, my dude— is it my dude?” Danny nodded in response. “My dude, please tell me you drink real coffee.”

“With as many espresso shots as they’re legally allowed to add,” Danny said.

“A man after my own heart— a heart that runs on coffee,” José said with a laugh as they all spilled out the front of the engineering building.

Maybe this presentation wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Okay, so maybe Danny was just really not used to being around people any more.

Really, really not used to it.

He’d only spent an hour or so with the other’s at the coffeeshop, but between that, class, picking up a treat for Jason, and just having to go back and forth throughout the city Danny felt his nerves crawling under his skin. Every noise from every apartment around was so loud. Even his fridge seemed to be screaming at him with its incessant whine.

And there was no where to get away from it.

If he went out, Danny would just be surrounded by the sounds and smells and lights of the city. People would jostle into him or sit too close on the bus and— Danny shuddered at the idea of being touched by strangers right then.

He rubbed his fingers against his palms as he shifted and tried to lay more comfortably on his small sofa. He had his t.v. on, streaming mindless video game play throughs, but he wasn’t really paying attention to it. It was just to try and block out some of the noise.

There were things about the city that he loved, sure. The access to food was great. There was an amazing variety in walking distance of his place or campus. He’d also found a few great stores— a game store and a second hand clothing shop were top of his list. It was great how there was always a distraction.

But there was always a distraction.

Nothing ever really stopped in the city. That constant hum, after a few weeks of it, was really getting to Danny. He hadn’t thought he was rural or anything, but Amity’s hundred thousand or so people never prepared him for living here.

He closed his eyes and made himself take a slow breath.

Jason was going to show him some places around the city today.

He had to get a handle on himself before then.

He’d been trying for an hour now— or so his phone alerted him to when he checked it for the hundredth time. He laid it back on his chest and closed his eyes. When it started ringing a moment later he nearly jumped out of his skin.

‘Jason Calling’, it read. He fumbled to swipe the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey. My meeting wrapped early so I was going to head your way now if that’s good?”

Danny swallowed, trying to force back the buzzing under his skin. “Oh, um, yeah, sure.”

The line was silent for a pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Jason snorted. “That’s a lie.”

Danny flung an arm over his eyes and forced himself to take another breath. “I guess, just… It’s stupid.”

“Fish.”

The endearment was more gentle than Danny felt he deserved. He was being stupid about this. Who struggled to be around people? And he wanted to see Jason too. It was just… everyone— everything else.

He could hear the sounds of the city on Jason’s end and tried to focus on his voice instead. “Come on fish, talk to me.”

“It’s just— being in the city all the time… it’s just getting to me a little, I guess. I’m not used it it. That’s all. I’ll be fine.”

Jason gave a considering hum. “Okay. Change of plans. Do you have a leather jacket?”

“What? No?”

“Okay. Are you up for one stop first? We’ll make it quick.”

“One stop before what?” Danny asked as he pulled himself up by the back of the couch.

“Before my new plan for the day.” Jason sounded smug.

“I don’t— we don’t have to—”

“Trust me, okay?”

It was such an earnest request that it brought Danny to pause. He swallowed once more before he found his voice. “Of course I will.”

“Good. Then I’ll see you in twenty. Go put on jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and some sturdy shoes.”

The abrupt end to the call had Danny blinking down at his phone before he pulled himself up to do as he was told.

Jason studied Danny as the other came out of his apartment building. He hadn’t liked how Danny sounded on the phone and he didn’t much like how Danny looked now. It was like the other had tucked all his loud, jagged, wonderful edges away. It was like he was hiding from the world.

Well, Jason would just have to fix that.

“Just one quick stop,” Jason said, handing Danny a helmet.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to ba—”

“Fish,” Jason said firmly. He waited until Danny was actually looking at him (not frowning at the ground) to continue. “It’s okay if you’re not okay. You don’t have to apologize to me or about it or about you. You can be not fine.”

Fuck he was sounding like his well meaning family now. Still, it got a wobbly smile from Danny, so maybe it was worth parroting back the words. The words didn’t always help, he knew that. They certainly didn’t fix stuff that he still struggled with some days, but they couldn’t hurt. It couldn’t hurt to be reminded that someone cared.

“Okay. One quick stop,” Danny agreed.

“Right,” Jason said. He turned and straddled his motorcycle. “You ever ridden before?”

“Yeah, actually I have. A friend has one.”

“Huh.” Jason was actually a little surprised by that. “Okay then hang on tight. We won’t be doing anything crazy in the city, but we might have to stop quickly. Some drivers are jackasses about motorcycles.”

The bike dipped under him as Danny settled on behind him. There was an obvious moment of hesitation before Danny let himself slide forward. As Danny settled along his back, Jason had a thought of how well Danny fit. He briefly squeezed the arms wrapped around his waist in notice before he started his bike up and they took off through the city.

The one quick stop was to get Danny a riding jacket and gloves; Jason wanted to be sure that Danny would be warm and, more importantly, protected on the drive. As it was, Jason drove more cautiously than normal, very aware that Danny’s safety was in his hands.

It wasn’t long to the store, and he tried to make sure the shopping didn’t take too long. He could practically see Danny’s edges fraying. He did make Danny try on several jackets, even if he tried to make sure they didn’t linger, so that Danny could find the right one.

“Are you sure this is it?” Danny asked, tugging on the hem of the black leather jacket. It had a bit of a retro cut, but there was enough modern padding that if Danny fell off the road rash wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, Danny looked good in it; it cinched nicely at his waist and fit his shoulder snugly.

“Yep,” Jason said. He reached out and smacked Danny’s hand away when he tried to take a peak at the price tag again. “Stop that. I already told you I’m buying.”

“Jason—”

“Just accept it. Give me the jacket and go pick out some gloves,” he said.

Danny rolled his eyes, but shrugged off the jacket and handed it over. Jason took the moment to explain the mater to the sales person, who was cooperative about not saying the total out loud. The knowing smirk was a bit weird though. It even had Danny glancing at Jason suspiciously, but they got out of the store with what was needed and Danny none the wiser to what a good motorcycle jacket could cost.

Jason took the time to sync up both helmets so that they could talk on the ride if they wanted to, but he left the matter to Danny. It turned out to be mostly silent once they left the city, especially since Jason wasn’t explaining where they were going. The longer they were on the open roads, the more that Jason could feel Danny relaxing against his back until. Finally he settled in and rested his head against Jason’s shoulder blade.

“Thank you.”

“Ain’t seen nothing yet,” Jason rumbled back.

Danny just answered with a soft hum before he fell silent again.

Jason took them on the highway, down some side streets just for the view, and through a smaller city to the more secluded parking lot that he knew about. He could feel Danny freeze up behind him, and chuckled as he pulled off his own helmet. Danny did the same as he stumbled off the bike.

“Come on,” Jason said. He practically had to guide Danny down the path and to the top of the first bluff where the concrete ended.

Danny let out a breath exhale. “Oh, wow.”

His mouth hung slightly open as he stared out at the crashing waves and the beach that stretched out before them. A cloudy fall day wasn’t exactly the best time to visit the coast (not that they were the only ones doing so), but Danny still stared at it like it was the best thing he’d seen in a long time.

He stared at it like it gave him life.

Jason found he wanted— suddenly and fiercely— to find a million more moments that would bring that same spark to Danny’s eyes. He didn’t want Danny to stop living just because he had died.

Jason didn’t want to stop living just because he had died.

Not anymore.

He reached down to undo the knots on his boots with Danny scrambling to do the same. Laces tied together, Jason slung the boots across his shoulders and made his way onto the beach. He reached out to help balance Danny as he stumbled a little on the soft white sand.

When they had gotten to the edge of the water, Jason hung back slightly in the damp, but not wet, sand while Danny, with all of his normal abandon, rolled up his pants legs and barreled into the waves with a whoop. He ran in and out of the surf like one of those sand piper birds as the wind whipped his dark hair around his face like a storm of shadows.

Laughing as he was chased by a larger swell of water, Danny stumbled back to Jason’s side. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with salt air, and then just slumped heavily against Jason like he was boneless. Jason took the weight easily.

Jason grinned down at Danny, who’s eyes were still locked on the water. “Worth the trip?”

“Yeah. Yeah, worth the trip. Completely. Thank you Jason.”

“’Course. Gotta get the fish to water now and then.”

“Shut up, dead boy.” Danny rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t drop for a second.

Jason chuckled, but found he didn’t need to say anything back. He was content to just watch Danny watch the ocean.

-----

AN: Finally an update for you all~ ngl, there are some rough spots I'm not entirely happy with, I feel you can really tell what I wrote when I was feeling really, really poorly. But that's what a re-write is for, I guess!

The classmates won't show up too much, but I needed an outside perspective and to show Danny is settling in- even if he's struggling with some things.

Apologies for any typos, I currently want to melon ball my eye out from this migraine so you know, words are hard. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #dead on main #deadonmain #danny x jason #like betta fish do

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rozugold · 1 month

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Ok ramble time

Ok imagine you’re Tubbo. You just got your distant brother figure and your bestie off that damn mountain, though not in the most ideal way (I will make those comics eventuallyyy)

But that’s beside the point. You saved your best friend! You did something right for once! Except sike! your best friend hates you now, and you kind of hate him too (you let him know as much) then you guys stop talking. Which is fine, i mean, it’s not like he was your entire world.

You return to Snowchester! It’s a ghost town, obviously. There’s a memorial of you, decorated with fresh flowers and dusty knick knacks. The flowers are from Ranboo, he’s pretty sweet. He’s also been the one to upkeep your town while you were gone. You hang out with them a lot, they’re the only one who sticks around these days. They’re pretty sweet.

You try to go back to doing the things you did before you died. There’s those nukes you never finished making, so you work on them. And you work on them. And you work on them. And you get nothing done. Your brain feels scattered and far away, it’s impossible to focus. So you give it a break, you can afford to. It’s pretty safe these days with Dream gone, you know because you keep tabs on everyone on the server. There’s some strange things going on here and there but nothing too concerning. You hang out with Ranboo more.

Ah fuck, you two find a baby. It’s a piglin, infected but not fully zombified as it has enough thought to run up to you two for help. So you take it back to snowchester and give it potions to stop the infection. Ranboo is worried it won’t work, you tell him it probably won’t. But you reassure him that if it doesn’t, you’ll take it back to the nether to let it “live” out the rest of it’s days. (Do zombies live?) Ranboo spends the night in your attic with the piglin. He’s pretty sweet. Regardless you tell him to not keep his hopes up too high.

Next morning, it worked! You “dub thee Michael!” Ranboo is relieved. There’s a kid living in your house now.

There’s a kid living in his house now. The timeline becomes unclear at this point since I’m still figuring it out. But now that Michael is in the picture Tubbo starts getting worried. He realizes he has no way of protecting him. Maybe the syndicate come visit Snowchester and that shocks him into thinking about the nukes again. And so Tubbo starts throwing himself into projects again. And it starts getting ✨bad ✨

Honestly, It’s been really fun figuring out how Tubbo deteriorates because everything is so internal with him compared to Tommy. It’s obvious with Tommy, you could see him visibly fall apart (think his exile skins, he stops feeding himself, he doesn’t care when he takes damage) But with Tubbo it isn’t so obvious, atleast not right away. Sure his eye bags get darker and he stares off into space for a little too long. But he still looks put together. (Habitable maybe. Or a learned skill.)

Maybe he eventually gets the nukes working but they’re not as successful as he wanted them to be and that guts him. He takes it as another failure. What if he’s just cursed? Is everything he cares about forever doomed to feel like holding water in his hands? What is wrong with him?

I’m gonna share a song and explain this next part using its lyrics because I’m so ILL over it, it’s the most di!tubbo song ever. Throw on …Well, better than the alternative by Will Wood 👍

Tubbo’s feelings towards Michael is complicated… He absolutely loves him to death but he’s really apprehensive about being a dad. He has this fear that he’s going to somehow corrupt Michael and or fail to keep him safe. So he ends up becoming emotionally distant from him and at his worst he gives him up completely to Ranboo.

I think Ranboo and Tubbo get married as a joke at first. But Ranboo continues to love him so unconditionally and honestly and Tubbo catches a crush, which is absolute HELL for him at first sjdhdj. I imagine him being arospec so this crush is a completely new and surprising feeling and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t, and keeps playing it as a joke even as their relationship develops.

Also the repeat of “everybody’s up on everybody’s business” is very fitting for describing the server. There’s things to be developed here I just haven’t yet… I’m just thinking about the possibilities like the egg, the syndicate, las nevadas… hmmm

This song is begging to be made into an animatic because I can imagine Tubbo screaming at Tommy during this part. He was just trying to help the best way he could… yet things still end badly, and everyone ends up hurt… di!clingy oh di!clingy, they’re such a mess. A bitter, angry, grieving mess. Wait ok i wasn’t planning on writing grieving there but then my next thought was “who are they grieving?” EACH OTHER. THEY’RE GRIEVING EACH OTHER. o(-(

Ok that’s it. Phew that was a lot of writing. Here’s some drawings for your time

#distorted illusions #rozu thoughts #I’m so normal about my aus I swear

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pixelatedraindrops · 15 days

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RAINCODE COMIC DUB~🎙️

NEW PROJECT ALERT!

Story takes place at the start of Chapter 4 (MINOR SPOILERS)

Comic Title drawn by Kazin (as well as the whole comic)

Here's the Dub! Vocals and Editing done by me 🎙️📑 Enjoy!!

Further Rambling Below

Hehe I bet you all didn't think voice acting was among my list of hidden hobbies/talents didja? (I’m just full of surprises x3) Well... I can only hope that I delivered well enough here. (please feel free to laugh at my attempted Yakou voice… LMAO)

So this is yet another collab project that @kazinsblog and I did together. The story is based on a kokowendy ch4 canon divergent skit that I made way back last fall. When Kazin saw it, she wanted to make it into a full comic. I didn't protest (I never do LOL) but then I wanted to try something.

I've never attempted a solo dub of a comic before, and honestly I didn't think I would with RainCode due to a majority of the characters being male. Sadly with my naturally high voice I can only do so much with attempting male voices. I usually only do female or child character voices.

But since Kurumi is the lead role of this story, and has the most lines, I decided to give it a try. I do love Kurumi (she's my best girl) so I hope I did her justice here. I like to think I did her voice fairly well. I struggled a bit with the guys (and Halara) but I think my Yuma is decent enough... x'D (plus it was really fun making him sound tired and out of breath :3)

I do enjoy Kokowendy as a ship, though I'm not a huge shipper. But these two are just too cute... ;w; So I think a scenario like this suits them both. Plus it gives Kurumi a chance to be reliable and try to help her beloved hero in his time of need <3 Honestly it can even be seen as platonic. Its very tame (the only small hint is that Yuma blushes at some point, but that's it)

I had a lot of fun doing this!! I got the voices and editing done in only 3 days, so it’s definitely not a long lasting project. (on my end anyway) But I still think it’s a pretty big project with all of the work both of us did. Editing the video was probably the most fun part for me >w< I knew exactly what BGM and sound effects I wanted months in advance c: I only hope I did the editing style of it right. Comic dubs are very peculiar in the way they’re done… 💦 (also no I’m not putting this on YouTube, this is a tumblr exclusive ONLY! And I give NOBODY permission to re-upload it without my consent!)

I’m not sure if I'm the first that's attempted a RC comic dub before, but if I am, then I am very happy c: Idk if I'll do another full one though. Like I said too many of the characters are male... x'D This may be a one time thing for me here. But if I were to do one, I figured why not on a comic that was made specifically for me? c: (ty again kazin!💕)

Anyway I'm done yapping now, I hope you all enjoy! 💜 Feel free to let me know what you think or which role you enjoyed from me the most! (tho I think the answer is obvious lol)

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bonkhrnyjail · 3 months

Text

sweet plum | chapter three

masterlist | pinterest board

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)

warnings: depictions of anxiety, drinking, nicotine use

summary: it's the final day of filming, and you go out to celebrate with your fellow cast and crew members

a/n: thank you guys for the love on the first two chapters! i honestly wasn't anticipating much of a response on here so it's been a sweet surprise. i have imposter syndrome up the fucking wazoo and this is the first creative project i have ever stuck with for more than a few months, and i think it's partially because of the kind comments i've received from people (and also because i'm fucking horny and delusional for this old man). anyways, hope you enjoy chapter three. xoxo.

You and a few of the other makeup artists and hair stylists are standing a few hundred feet away, watching as Pedro and Bella repeatedly break character on top of a magnificent hill. The roar of laughter from the distance still manages to reach your ears, Pedro doubled over with hands bracing on his knees to keep from toppling over completely.

You know your period is coming, but the emotions you’ve been experiencing today are something else entirely. You awoke this morning and immediately started to tear up, knowing today was the last full day you’d spend with everyone, the crew who's become more like family to you than anything else. You’re just so proud of everyone. Filming this show was grueling, the labor not only physical but emotional too.

Fucking hell, you’re tearing up again just thinking about it.

“Awww, honey bun,” one of the girls pulled you into a side hug, squeezing into your hip with her resting hand. “I get it, I felt this way after my first long project too.”

You hate crying in front of people, but you’re so exhausted from holding it in since the morning, it all just pours out.

“I just love all of you guys so much, I don’t want it to end. It’s been such an honor to do this job and to become friends with all of you," you sniffle, frantically wiping at your eyes to clear the streams of tears from your puffy cheeks. "And Pedro, he’s been such a dream to work with. Such a genuine, kind guy, I just love working with him-”

“Baby, we know.” one of the few guys in your group teases and everyone erupts with laughter.

“Wha— Why are you guys laughing?" you whine. "Did I miss something?”

Are they onto you?

You think that you’ve done an incredible job hiding your colossal, debilitating crush on your extremely attractive, kind, witty, charming client. Of course you’ve experienced work crushes before, most of the actors you’d worked with are incredibly easy on the eyes.

But with Pedro, things were different. The amount of time that you’ve spent together during this project and the way your relationship developed, you didn’t stand a god damned chance. The way he talks, listens, looking you deep in your eyes and transfixing you with his soft baritone, even in the most casual of conversations. He makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. You barely survived some of those interactions, walking away with jello legs and a pounding chest, enough to make you a little short of breath.

“Oh, come on, kid, don’t play dumb,” another one chimes in, “We know you two have the hots for each other.”

Wait.

Each other?

The girl next to you squeezes your hip again.

“We’ve been placing bets to see which one of you would slip up first. It’s hard to watch. You guys are so, so oblivious.”

EACH OTHER?

Your chest starts pounding hard as your breath kicks out from underneath you. You can feel the pinkish-red hue spread hot over your round cheeks, only masked by the makeup you had put on that morning.

“You guys,” you manage through slightly labored breathing, “He doesn’t… it’s not… he wouldn’t…”

“See, I told you guys, it's gone completely over her head.”

Everyone is chiming in at this point, fits of laughter erupting from either side of you.

You honestly can’t believe the implication. You, crushing on him, sure. Who wouldn’t? But him, crushing on you? This has to be some kind of joke.

It’s not that you lack confidence. You rate yourself. You’re sexy, funny, talented, kinky, a great cook and even better at cleaning, not that those last two are things that should define you in any way. You're versatile, you can go out dancing or cuddle up on the couch and have a great night either way. And as much as you’re high strung about your work, you make up for it by being fun in your personal life. Yes, you have some moderate anxiety issues, but once you feel comfortable around people you’re a pretty damn good time. As for your looks, you truly like your appearance, you feel at home in your body and love to flaunt your curves.

But you’re also realistic.

Being a bigger girl means things will always be a bit different for you. You have to watch your back, fatphobia is so rampant and completely acceptable according to society, especially in LA. You’ve been denied entry to clubs simply because of your size. You've barely dated and haven't hooked up with anyone since your big breakup, over two years ago now. But you're not an idiot, and you know if you did, it’s a whole different ball game when you’re plus size.

You’ve helped a few of your fat friends make Tinder profiles, constantly having to answer questions like 'Does this picture look like me?' 'Is this catfishy?' 'Should I put a disclaimer in my bio?'

It’s never due to lack of confidence on their part, it’s due to lack of trust in other people to not be fucking vile. It’s exhausting, constantly trying to protect and defend yourself from hatred towards your own body, a body that you've come to love so dearly.

Now, with that being said, Pedro Pascal does not strike you as the type to go after someone like you. Not because he’s a shitty person, but because he’s basically an A-list fucking celebrity who can likely pull any woman he wants. In your experience, most of the older men who have shown interest in you were simply fetishizing your body. You're absolutely certain Pedro would never do that though, his respect for women is so innate, you can’t even conjure an image in your head of him treating you that way.

But the truth is, as fucked up as it is, if men can have their pick of the bunch, most of them will go for a thin woman. Social conditioning is a bitch.

Not to mention, he’s quite a bit older than you. You're closer in age to Bella than you are to Pedro. It's not something that bothers you, you've always gone for people older than you, but you don’t know how he feels in that regard.

If you're being honest, you never even allowed yourself to entertain the thought of him returning your feelings. But now here you are, and for some reason the concept scares you utterly shitless.

You want to bolt in the other direction, get in your car, and drive until you see nothing but fields. Canada is pretty good for that, you can drive in any direction and end up somewhere with no houses or buildings for miles. You love to sing in the car and drive for hours with no destination in mind. Horrible for the planet, yes, but you have a hybrid so you cut yourself a bit of slack. It’s better than driving your quiet, elderly neighbors up the wall with your obnoxious belting.

What if he did feel the same way about you? Then what?

First of all, he’s famous, incredibly famous. He’s a goddamn heartthrob. You’ve seen the TikTok edits that Bella saves on their phone to taunt Pedro with. People want him, bad, and you don’t think they’d appreciate him having a woman in his life. You aren’t sure you can handle an influx of cyberbullying from teenage girls with unhealthy parasocial relationships and too much time on their hands.

Secondly, there is of course the unexpected nature of you being his pick, decades younger than him and certainly curvier than most would anticipate.

And of course, your job. What would this do to your reputation? You don't want to be the girl who is known for this kind of thing, You don’t even know if this kind of thing is allowed due to the nature of your working relationship. Would you ever be allowed to work with him again?

You can feel your breaths starting to get shorter and shorter as your internal dialogue continues to obsessively ramble.

“I have to run back to the trailer, y'all just... text me if you need me, 'kay?”

You briskly walk toward the direction of the massive white vehicles, grateful to be able to drop the act and let the panic you feel seep into your facial expression. You walk into the trailer and slump down into the chair, managing an unfortunate attempt at the breathing techniques your therapist taught you.

As your body finally begins to settle back into a healthy rhythm, you hear voices getting louder and louder.

Shit, they’re breaking for lunch.

Without thinking, you bolt out the door with your bag and hide behind the trailer furthest from the incoming crowd of people.

You just need to calm down.

As you settle, you take some more deep breaths, your head flat against the white metal of the trailer, cooling the heat of your scalp. It helps, and you get lost in the sensation, the breathing steadying you back into your body.

Suddenly you hear your name being called in a gravelly voice, slightly steeped in a southern twang.

“Don’t come back here, I’m infected!” you blurt.

Stupid, yes, but it’ll buy you a second to come up with an excuse as to why you’re hiding. Digging through your bag to find your phone, you suddenly see the vape your friend left with you months ago.

Perfect.

You pull it out along with your phone and quickly open Instagram to make it look like you’ve been casually scrolling this whole time. You take a quick pull from the cartridge and try to catch as much of the vapor in your mouth, trying to protect your lungs and throat so you don’t start immediately hacking.

You exhale just as Pedro turns the corner.

“What are you doing back here? For some reason you’re never where I expect you to be.” he quips, his feet in a wide stance and arms crossed, illuminating his broad shoulders.

“Oh, it’s super embarrassing,” you flash the vape in your left hand. “My friend got me addicted to this stupid thing. I’m trying to quit but... clearly not going so well.”

He snatches it out of your hand before you can protest, studying it like it's an ancient artifact.

“What exactly is this?”

“You’ve never seen an ElfBar before?”

He looks at you, dumbfounded and a little peeved.

“Here,” you step forward and use your hand to guide his, lining up the vape with his lips. “Inhale.”

That was a little more seductive than you intended.

He obeys, taking a much bigger hit than he probably should. A panic washes over his eyes just before he starts coughing and hacking, the mist flying out of his open mouth.

“What the fuck is that? It tastes horrible!” he starts making noises of disgust amidst his hacking.

You can’t help yourself from laughing at his excessive dramatics.

“It’s essentially flavored nicotine. I like it though, I feel like it tastes like Froot Loops.”

He attempts to gasp but chokes halfway through, his lungs still traumatized by the vapor.

“How dare you insult Froot Loops like that!” he booms, his face absolutely flabbergasted by the suggestion.

Your hands are on your knees now, completely doubled over and barely able to manage a breath. His bellowing laughter fills the space, bouncing off of the trailer walls and waltzing with your high pitched cackles. Unable to hold himself up, he places a hand on your shoulder, and you both lose your footing.

You trip backward, back hitting the trailer hard as he stumbles into you.

Your bodies collide for a moment, his face so close that you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. The laughter between you quickly subsides as your consciousnesses adjust to the proximity you share. You feel that familiar flush prickle your face as he places a hand on the surface behind you, pushing himself off.

You meet his gaze, gentle and sweet, eyes softly nestled in crinkled skin. Your breaths start to deepen and your lips part slightly, unconsciously, as you maintain the eye contact intensifying dangerously between you. His gaze wanders to your mouth and you draw in a sharp inhale, an image of his lips on yours flashing through your head.

Your body jolts when reality catches up to you. He quickly steps back, raises a hand to scratch his head as his eyes dart around. There’s a moment of thick, heavy silence between you, you hastily fussing with your fingernails as he continues to mess with his hair.

You can’t think of a single word in the English language to save your life right now.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to—” he fumbles through the words before you cut him off.

“No! No, it’s ok. It was an accident! Don’t worry, I’m ok—”

“Good!” He continues stammering, an undertone of panic lacing his tone. “Ok, good, I really didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you kids hiding back here?” a familiar accent cracks through the tension, a wave of relief crashing through your body.

Bella. Thank fuck.

“I... got P to try my vape!” you tease. “He’s… not a fan.”

You start to walk toward Bella, hoping that Pedro will follow you back to the more crowded area, desperate to get anywhere that keeps you from being alone with him

“Listen, If I’m gonna have nicotine, I’m just gonna stick to a good old-fashioned cigarette.” he states, still clearly trying to shake the Joel from his voice. He follows behind you, back to the open field where everyone is gathered.

Your hands are visibly shaking, so you hold them behind your back to hide them from the crowd. Beads of sweat start to prickle the back of your neck, the reality of what just happened hitting you like a ton of bricks.

You feel a strong hand rest on the small of your back and you jump. Hard.

“You ok?” a deep whisper floats toward your ear.

Why does he always have to be so fucking thoughtful?

“Never better!” you blurt, flashing a toothy, gaudy smile.

You’re a good liar, but not that good.

The two of you immerse yourselves in the swarm, pulled in different directions by little clusters of people that demand your presence. You desperately fight the urge to look back at him, but accept that the further you are from him right now, the better.

. . . . .

“And that's a wrap everybody!” Craig shouts towards the crowd of people behind him.

Cheers erupt, the crew hugging and high-fiving each other, little sounds of glee coming from every which way. In the distance, you see Pedro pull Bella in for a tight squeeze, their feet hovering off the ground as he spins them around in a circle. Arms and bodies push tightly against you as you get eaten alive by a clumsy group hug.

“I love you guys so much,” escapes you as you’re squeezed harder and harder, struggling to manage a full inhale. You’re going to miss this, miss them, so much. You can’t believe how fast these months flew by.

The group slowly starts migrating towards the trailers scattered in the faraway field. You hear chatter about dinner plans, possible parties, future projects and people excited to go home to their families and pets.

“Are you excited to go home?” The girl next to you inquires, her hand gripping yours fiercely.

“I mean, I miss my bed. And my bathtub. And kitchen. But honestly, I’m more sad to leave than anything else.”

It’s true, you miss your shitty little apartment. The AC doesn’t work half the time, the sink drains painfully slowly, and you swear you’ve heard scratching on the walls in your sleep. Staying in the pristine room you were put up in these past months has been far more luxurious than what you're used to, but it isn’t yours. You miss your posters, your record player, your stuffed animals, though you brought your most precious one with you to Canada. Just the thought of cozying up on your creaky mattress makes you feel warm inside, dissipating some of the discomfort you feel knowing this experience is over.

You sneak quietly into Pedro’s trailer and begin packing up your things. You snap a quick picture of your station, your hand in the frame making the heart symbol with your fingers that the kpop stars do.

The door creak open and you swing your head around to find Pedro standing in the doorway, hair tousled by the wind.

“Hey you!” he inches closer to you, opening his arms for a hug.

You throw your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes so you can rest your head on his shoulder. His arms find their way to your lower back, bunching the fabric of you shirt as he squeezes you tight.

“I’m so proud of you,” you gush, your hands unclasping from behind him and sliding off of his shoulders. “You were, you are, amazing. I can’t wait to see the final product.”

He reaches for your hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. My hair could never be this gray without your magic.”

“Give it a few years,” you tease. “Next season you won’t need me at all.”

He lets out that laugh, the bellowing boom filling the space with its warmth and magic. Nothing butters you up more than that sound, a smile stretching across your face to make way for your giggles.

“So... a couple of us are going out for dinner and drinks after this, and you’re coming,” he orders, grabbing his shirt from the pile of folded clothes in the empty swiveling chair.

He begins to unbutton his flannel to reveal a white undershirt, slightly damp and sticking to his skin. Despite your straining efforts, your gaze follows his hands as they move lower… and lower… and lower…

“Whaddya' say?” he breaks your trance with the question.

Your vision goes fuzzy trying to focus solely on his face as he removes the shirt entirely.

His arms.

“U-uh, y-yeah. Sure. Yes. Where?” you stumble.

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’ll call you when I find out. We might be going out after, so I’m going to try to dress nice. You can if you want, too, but no pressure.”

He pulls his black t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair in the process.

You instinctively reach up to fix the bird’s nest he just created, running your fingers through to calm the frizz.

“God, what am I gonna do without you, Plum?” he grins sweetly, a soft chuckle wisping past his rosy lips.

Your stomach flutters as you press the pads of your toes into your shoes. Anything to keep you grounded.

“I have no idea. You’re pretty hopeless when it comes to that hair of yours,” you jab, using the palm of your hands to pat down the remaining flyaway curls.

He reaches a hand up to try and wrestle with your hair. You quickly duck, avoiding his touch.

“Hey! Never touch the hair man! You know better!”

As much as you'd love to feel his fingers raked through your hair, you’d be damned if he ruined your fresh blowout.

“But it’s too perfect, it’s begging to be messed with.”

He tries for it again but you manage another successful dodge.

“Enough! I’m outta' here!” you sass, grabbing your bags and head towards the door. “See you later?”

You pause in the doorway, looking back at him.

“See you later,” he winks.

. . . . .

You’re sitting at the far right end of the table, wedged in the corner awkwardly with your ankles crossed under your chair. Most of the actors are sat by each other, so it felt natural to join the crew on the other side. Only one other hairstylists showed, you aren't entirely sure what happened to everyone else, but you heard they would meet up with your group later on. Fingers crossed.

The black dress you chose for the evening tightly hugs your curves, flaring at the thigh and hemmed just above the knee. You’re wearing a sensible two-inch heel and some Dr. Scholls inserts, with the hope that there will be dancing and booze in the later hours of the evening. You stand out from the rest of the group, a bit overdressed compared to the others, except for Pedro.

He’s wearing a black button down, two buttons on the top undone, and a pair of pleated green slacks that cling to his figure in all the right places. His belt is sizable but not gaudy, and a gold band is fitted perfectly to his right ring finger.

Despite your desperate efforts not to, you've repeatedly gazed across the table to him, your prolonged gawking completely overriding your willpower.

His hands, god his hands, the veins prominent as he uses his knife to carefully cut into his steak. You know his grip is strong, you’ve been subject to many an affectionate hand squeeze. The thought of him running his thick fingers through your hair makes you white-knuckle your silverware.

The scrape of your knife jerks you back to reality, and you quickly join the conversation happening to your right. One of the guys tells an animated story about an ex-boyfriend that leaves the rest of you erupting in laughter.

Through your lingering giggles, you instinctively find yourself turning your head to sneak a glance at the handsome man across from you.

Only this time, you meet his gaze.

He’s not exactly smiling with his lips, but his eyes are, soft and crinkled along the outer corners. Your chest starts to flutter, but in the same instant, you feel the tension in your body melt, as he continues to stare back at you with a remarkable gentleness. A grin slowly takes over his face, his teeth catching the low lighting of the restaurant, and like a puppet, your lips mimic his.

“Pedro?” Bella questions in a whisper, lightly tapping his shoulder. “Merle is trying to get your attention.”

You jerk your head the other way, so violently that you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.

You can barely hear the conversation across the table, your burning desire to know if anyone witnessed the interaction impossible to soothe. You try to immerse yourself back into your group when a slight wave of dizziness washes over you, so you choose instead listen quietly, fidgeting with your phone in your hand.

A few minutes later, you feel a quick buzz against your palm, a notification from Pedro appearing on your screen. He’s never texted you before, always insistent on just calling you instead. You tuck your hands under the table as inconspicuously as you can.

P: We r going to a club after this. Want 2 come?

Of course he texts like that.

You hold in a chuckle and glance towards him. He smiles, throwing two thumbs up eagerly with a wiggle of his brow, clearly urging you to say yes.

You: I thought you didn’t like to text?

P: Didn’t want to yell across the table. Come party?

He attaches a bitmoji, an animation of him with a confetti cannon. Your eyes roll on instinct as you stifle your laughter.

You: I’ll come, but only if you take a shot with me.

He replies with a thumbs up.

. . . . .

After dinner, a celebratory cake, and a sea of hugs, approximately half of the group you started with hikes down a few blocks to a small, underground club. Pedro is a few feet behind you, out of your sightline as you hold hands with two of your favorite coworkers. The three of you try to skip in unison but fail miserably, the rhythm of your legs too disjointed to end with you all staying upright.

The bouncer lets you in one by one as you make your way down the steep metal stairs and into the bustling room. The lighting is mostly purple and blue, spotlights swirling around the shadowy, dancing bodies in the center. You mosey over to the bar and within a few seconds, Pedro slides in right beside you.

“What’s your shot of choice?” you shout over the blaring music.

He leans in, brushing your hair to the side so he can speak directly into your ear.

“You choose. I’m not picky.”

His breath tickles the skin on your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine with an inaudible gasp. Your focus flickers, thoughts of his mouth tasting your skin, mustache grazing as he trails lower... and lower...

No.

You snap out of it as you greet the bartender.

“Can we get four shots of Patrón?”

“Hey, you said one shot.” Pedro whines.

“You drink however much you want,” you place a hand on his chest, the atmosphere of the club creating a placebo effect of tipsiness. “I’ll drink whatever’s left.”

The bartender pours the tequila haphazardly into the shot glasses, already fixed with lime wedges, and slides them over to you.

“OK, grab one and lock arms with me.” you shout.

He obeys, linking his left arm with your right.

“Now, cheers me. Don’t break eye contact or it’s 10 years of bad sex,” you exclaim through a hearty grin.

“Can’t risk that,” he winks.

God, you want him.

Your glasses clink and you throw the shots back with your arms still snaked around each other. The smooth burn coats your throat as it settles in your stomach. You pull away, biting into the lime wedge asa you place your glass down gently on the countertop.

His skin is glimmering in this light, the purple and blue dancing along the dew decorating his hairline. The curve of his nose is especially highlighted by the beams, resembling that of a ancient sculpture.

“Another?” you grab the remaining two glasses and hold one up to him inquisitively.

“Not yet. Later, or I’ll pay for it in the morning.”

You hold both glasses up to your open mouth and pour, the sting burning all the way down your esophagus and warming your tummy. You leave the limes untouched.

“More for me,” you smile.

A hand grabs you by the waist and tugs at your dress.

“You have to dance with me to this song!” one of your friends from the makeup team shouts in your ear, much louder than she needs to.

Pedro grabs the shot glasses out of your hands, mouthing his words with a smile.

"Go."

You try to wave as you’re being dragged in the direction of the dance floor. The crowd swallows you entirely and he disappears from your eyesight.

“Everytime We Touch” by Cascada is booming through the subwoofers and rippling the floor. The bass flows through you and somehow intensifies the heat spreading in your midsection. You start to move your body to the beat, flipping your hair to one side and running your fingers through it. You close your eyes and let the music turn you into a vessel of rhythm.

. . . . .

You’re drunk. About thirty minutes ago, a few friends bought more shots, clumsily pouring them in your mouth as you continued dancing. It’s only been an hour and a half, and you’re already five shots deep.

Your inhibition is nowhere to be found.

As you’re twirling and bouncing around the dance floor, the crowd cracks open slightly, allowing you a slivered view of the bar. Pedro is there, leaning against the counter and watching you intently. He waves diffidently when your eyes meet his.

“Be right back,” you turn, shouting to the group, squeezing the hand of the girl nearest to you.

You manage to escape the sea of bodies relatively unscathed, although you're certain your hair is absolutely fucked. You plop down carelessly on the barstool next to Pedro, raking your fingers through your mane to hopefully tame whatever the hell is going on up there.

Pedro turns to the bartender.

“Can we get some water over here?” He motions towards you with his thumb.

The bartender slides a water bottle down the bar and Pedro catches it impressively.

“God, you read my mind.” you manage, still a bit breathless.

“Who said this is for you?”

He opens the bottle, his massive hand flexing, a thick vein prominent on the top. Your eyes wander to his tattoo, barely visible in the violet light. You're transfixed for a moment, your head crooking slightly to try and study it more closely, the dizziness that tequila inevitably sparks beginning to set in.

He chuckles at your ogling, handing over the water with a cracked-open lid.

“You were staring at me,” you blurt, any semblance of a conscience you once had completely dissolved by the amount of alcohol in your bloodstream. “I saw you.”

His eyebrow cocks.

“I could say the same thing about you at dinner earlier."

Your stomach drops at the confession, but for some reason causes you to burst with unbridled laughter.

He giggles along with you, his shoulders bouncing as his dimple slowly appears.

“You’re just really fun to watch out there. You dance very freely. And your dress-”

“What about my dress?” you jut, cutting him off with a drunken, flirty shove on the shoulder.

“It looks really nice on you. Fits you... just right.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he says it, his voice gentle and tinged with desire. You can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips as your ears color in red. You can sense the wide, awestruck grin plastered across your lips, too inebriated to do anything about it. Your eyes soften as you melt into the moment, Pedro looking down at you with gaze that can only be described as one of pure admiration.

He reaches up a hand and smoothes down your flyaway hairs.

“I’m helping, I promise.”

You lock your eyes on a spot on a stain in the wood floor, suddenly overcome with a giddy shyness.

“Well, you… you look pretty spiffy yourself. I like your…”

Don’t say chest. Don’t say chest.

“... shirt… buttons.”

Shirt buttons?

He booms with laughter, hard enough that he doubles over, placing a hand on your thigh to keep from toppling over completely.

You throb at the touch, the core of it pulsing between your legs.

“I’ll have to wear this one more often,” he teases, his hand unmoving.

With every second that passes, the sensation of his palm pressing into your skin starts to burn, the throb morphing into a panging need under your skirt. You bite your lip hard, bearing through the searing ache.

You have to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret.

“I-I’m gonna go dance again. You wanna come?” you spring from the barstool. holding out a hand, beckoning him to follow you into the mass of sweaty bodies behind you.

“I’ll watch, you go. Have fun.” he smiles, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn away with a stifled grin, his words echoing in your head as the crowd swallows you whole.

. . . . .

chapter four

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #the last of us #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

137 notes · View notes

simplyender · 3 months

Note

You previously mentioned that Johnathon probably had a less than ideal childhood. If you are still in the mood for headcanons, would you mind sharing your thoughts on his upbringing/childhood/adolscence? The good, the bad, whatever comes to your mind. Thank you! (I wonder if he was still roommates with Quentin Beck in the movieverse)

Thank you so much for asking!!!! Sorry about taking so long to respond, work has been exhausting for me, and I really want to give my best answer, hence why I stew over asks quite a bit, lol

ANYWAY,

• Apparently, The Spot from the comics is originally from Spokane. Yeah, I'll incorporate that one in to my personal beliefs.

• He reads to me as having come from an upper-middle-ish class family.

• Only child, but his parents were frequently busy with their jobs, and when they were around, they didn't exactly have or bother to make the time for him.

• Pretty judgemental parents in general.

• Despite that, he still spent a fair amount of time trying to prove himself worthy of their attention, a difficult task with...Mixed results, mostly leaning towards failure.

• One of my friends was once like "There was definitely a time where he wanted to show them something he made and got snapped at for bothering them.", and yeah I totally agree with that.

• Over time he became more reclusive, spent more time in his room than anywhere else. He preferred reading, learning to code, and working on his own little projects over socializing, something he wasn't all too skilled at. It wasn't like there was much to socialize with at home, anyways, considering he would either be ignored or treated like a nuisance a solid 90% of the time.

• This was a double edged sword, though, since he'd also been yelled at for "being in his room all the time" a few times.

• Was used as a scapegoat quite often.

• After a certain point he moved on to trying to get his validation through other means. High grades, impressive science projects, plans to become a scientist and making the biggest damn breakthrough ever seen, do something that will change the world forever. Because then nobody could ignore him or treat him like he's less if he managed that.

• But obviously they're not the worst in his mind because they helped pay for college, so,,,,,,

edit: actually thought about this some more and he probably got a scholarship. oops lol idk high academics.

• Saw the 1933 Invisible man at a young age and absolutely loved it, he spent a short period of time trying to figure out how to make himself invisible, and kind of wished that dr. Jack Griffin was his real dad and that also maybe he'd kill his parents, healthy and not worrying thoughts from a probably 8 year old. It's been around 25+ years since then, but he'd still get seriously embarrassed if somebody brought up his old attempts.

• Had a massive growth spurt in his early teenage years, which automatically put a target on his back for even more bullying.

• Started experimenting with his fashion and putting some more work in to his appearance close to the end of high school. Still sucked at keeping up with haircuts and remembering to shave, though.

• Was probably at his peak in college, honestly. Nicest place he's been in. Least bullying he's experienced. He even made a friend or two!

• IMO he was totally roommates with Quentin in this universe too, they were on different tracks, but all in all, they got along pretty well! John was happy to help him with with whatever he was working on, although, John mostly kept his personal stuff to himself (still appreciated the extra hand with carrying things...), or at least tried to. Whether he was listened to or not is another matter entirely. When they collaborated, they were a real dream team. Unfortunately, they kinda fell out of contact after college, so it was a pretty big surprise to John when Mysterio got caught and it was released that his old college roommate had become a supervillain.

....Which only further entrench him in the "I'm meant to be Spider-Man's nemesis" mindset, by the way.

#the spot #atsv #johnathon ohnn #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #headcanons #character analysis #i guess?#whenever i thought abt the growth spurt hc id hear those lyrics from 'danny dont you know'#'you had a growth spurt and you're suddenly 6'2“....#the girls are steering clear #you walk like a newborn deer....'#thats him #anyway im still open to asks just expect me to take along time coming up w an answer #oh right bruef mention of #quentin beck #yippee

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eyeofnewtblog · 6 months

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Things that happen at home:

So, my mom had her first symphony concert this weekend, and I’m happy to report that it was a smashing success.

What I personally thought was really cool is that the whole symphony is mostly older women. Most of the brass section was older men though, and you could tell that the trumpet and trombone players were having a great time with the music (lots of jamming out head and shoulders movement) and WOW that tuba player has A Set Of Lungs.

Honestly kinda makes me miss the days when Middle Sister would stand just outside my bedroom door and just BLAST through her practice session as fast as possible. Yes, she was a tuba player. Yes, she was in marching band and orchestra. Yes, I absolutely ran out screaming “MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!” Every. Single. Time. No, that did not stop her in anyway whatsoever.

Anyway, there was also a cello soloist that performed with violin and viola accompaniment, and he was legitimately fantastic. I told my mom during intermission that she was better and she did her scrunch up face of You’re Full Of Shit But I Like The Support which was cute.

I was sitting next to my one of my cousins for the concert and we both kept side eyeing each other and giggling about how he was bobbing along and jamming out…for those of you that don’t know, it’s very easy to jam out and look cool when you have either a very small instrument or a very large instrument.

When you have a medium instrument, like a cello or French horn, you just look silly if you’re jamming out (saxophone is the exception) and my mom has this very…contained way of playing that looks intense but graceful and determined. So to see someone looking like they’re jamming out on an electric guitar while playing a cello was just…hilarious to us, because we’ve been watching my mom jam out for decades and never seen anyone look so goofy while sounding so good.

One of my moms work friends showed up, and she was an absolute delight. Complete sweetheart; it’s also really fucking funny to tease government contractors about their top secret clearances and joke about their projects or basically anything that they aren’t allowed to talk about. (I teased her specifically about being in the CIA because she does intelligence analysis; my husband and I have a long standing “argument” about if my mom works on quantum computers or making targeted ai satellite systems talk to each other, because honestly her PhD could easily allow for both) the goal is to make relatively small jokes and then drop it quickly because you don’t actually want them to violate their security protocols…but fucking hell if it isn’t fun to toe the line.

My mechanic husband had the dubious joy of teaching me how to jump start a car in the parking lot without jumper cables. (My car battery is in the fritz and needs replacement but we honestly thought it could wait another month or so…)

But basically you put the car in neutral, push it into a position that it can roll naturally downhill, then put it in either first gear or reverse (which ever way is down hill, basically) and release the clutch. I’m pretty sure this only works on automatic transmission vehicles, but I could be wrong and didn’t ask for clarification.

I’d like to point out that we were in a crowded parking lot with a perfectly functioning set of jumper cables. We could have absolutely asked any of the ten people walking by if we could get a jump. We could have waited for my cousin to come out, because we were parked right next to each other. But no. “What if you’re stuck by yourself? You pride yourself on being able to get out of anything.”

That man knows me too well.

Overall, great night. Fantastic concert, great learning experience, got to be an absolute little shit. 10/10, would do again.

#humans are space orcs #my mom is amazing as always #cello is the best instrument I’ll die on this hill #car trouble #marry a mechanic #trust me it works #but also #marry a plumber #either way you will never be helpless again

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giant-tiny-fiber-friends · 1 month

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Nalbinding in G/T

Fiber Arts | Knitting | Crochet | Sewing

Honestly, this was the post I was most excited to make when I started this blog! I haven't seen many people talking about nalbinding, as it's not as widely known, but I think it could be a dark horse g/t fiber art.

The name nalbinding comes from Danish, literally meaning needle binding. It's a way to produce fabric from short pieces of wool yarn, using a large and blunt sewing needle-shaped tool to create stitches looped through one another. Tension can be kept over the thumb or the needle itself, and when torn or worn down, the fabric will not unravel!

It predates knitting and crochet by many centuries, although in form it is most similar to the latter. One stitch is worked at a time by running the needle through the working loops and the ever-growing fabric. There are many types of stitches with differing densities, tensions, and functions. Like crochet, nalbinding is very good for making things with odd or circular shapes, like socks or mittens or hats.

Nalbinding came into my radar when someone adjacent to my crafting circles asked about it, and I fell down the rabbit hole. It's still a relatively new craft to me, but it's gotten me so excited by the idea of sharing this with the g/t community!

For a brief history and demonstration of nalbinding (mostly to keep this post from being entirely too long) I highly recommend this short video. It certainly piqued my interest when I first heard of nalbinding!

The Potential

Nalbinding would be one of the easiest crafts to maintain by a tiny or a giant, in my opinion! For one thing, it's designed to use shorter amount of yarn at a time compared to knitting or crochet, which could be handy in environments of scarce wool sourcing (like a giant or tiny scavenging for materials). Wool would be ideal, since the fibers at the end of the yarn can easily be felted together in order to join a new strand, but it could likely be done with any fiber available.

The needles would be easy to come by as well since they can be made of wood, antler, or bone. So long as those materials are around, one can make a long, wide, and flat needle to use!

There are also more open-weave forms of nalbinding that could be great for mesh fabrics! Great for hunting/fishing for more outdoorsy giants/tinies, or bags for carrying larger items made with more conservative amounts of materials. Here's a tutorial video of someone using this looping style of nalbinding with plant fibers:

youtube

Nalbinding is a newer craft for me, and I'm still taking time to learn more about it! The project I have on the needle right now is going to be a small pouch-style bag; I'm not working from a proper pattern, sort of using the intuition I've learned from crochet to start a circular shape for the base, and now I'm working up the straight sides. It's still in the early stages, so it resembles a shallow bowl more than anything at the moment, but it's coming along!

This is definitely more of a ramble than previous posts at this point, but this is a craft I don't see talked about a ton and I more so wanted to put in on the g/t community radar to hopefully get a conversation started! Let me know if this sparks interest, I'd love to see other ideas for the g/t potential with this fiber art!

#g/t fiber arts #gt fiber arts #g/t community #gt community #giant tiny #borrowercore #giantcore #tinycore #g/t vibes #g/t #g/t nalbinding #gt nalbinding

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peninkwrites · 2 months

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(putting my very long, very personal ramble under a readmore so folks can avoid it) (this won't include any of my plans for going forward or for my writing but I'm not going anywhere so don't worry about that. love to you all.)

A little disclaimer: If you have zero context for what I'm talking about, apologies for not explaining in depth, but this post won't be relevant to you otherwise. All you really need to know is that it seems that Wilbur Soot is an abuser, and Shubble came forward and talked about it recently. He was not named, but from what she shared, I believe that was who she was talking about. I don't say this to speculate, and if you disagree, I'm not here to argue over it, but it's enough for me personally to not to want to support him indefinitely, save for Shubble explicitly saying she wasn't talking about him.

Additionally, these thoughts are some incredibly personal and self-centered rambling. It does not reflect where my priorities lie, with supporting Shelby for coming forward above all else, but other people have said that much better than I have, and this post is really just a place for me to vent some of my feelings.

I prided myself on not falling prey to “parasocial relationships.” I didn’t get invested in the personal lives of content creators, only in their creative works. I thought this protected me somehow. I knew next to nothing about Wilbur Soot’s personal life, but I admired him deeply as a writer and empathized with him as an artist. I projected so heavily onto his character and did so for over three years. When I waited for his final dsmp stream, I felt panicked. Like my survival hinged on how he ended this story, and then he ended it in a way I could live with, and I thought I could go on loving this story and these characters for what they had been, no matter how messy the rest of the endings to follow were. His character was mine in so many ways. He had some of my problems and I gave him some of my own. I used him to process quite a bit. And now that part of myself is irrevocably tainted.

When the stuff came out about Dream, I was upset, but not betrayed. I never followed the creator and he existed only as a character to me. All I grieved then was the community his actions destroyed and most importantly the people he hurt. I planned to continue writing for the DSMP, even as I refused to follow any content involving him. It felt like a pause, not a full stop, while I ensured what I was doing did not show him any support. I also gave that character no pity and therefore the man behind him no pity, I had no personal investment in his character.

Now my response is visceral and bitter and I don’t know how to go on writing, because this character meant the world to me. I don’t know how to write about a character I truly love and see myself in, knowing the person who also loved and saw himself in that character, who created that character, has done horrible things. I don’t know how to write any of these other characters I have loved and cared for for over 3 years because he has poisoned them. All of it turns my stomach now and I feel so betrayed. The thought of his character is tainted because it’s connected to his voice and his face. I cannot separate the art from the artist both because it was the inclusion of the authorship within the story which affected me so strongly, and because there are things within the text that I look back on now and can only see that this person was always this way. I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking of c!Wilbur’s line when he found out about exile, “he didn’t actually hit you though“ and his horror when c!Tommy responded that he had, that for some reason that was the turning point. The implication that it was only crossing that line, that particular type of violence, which made something wrong. Fucking disgusting.

I’ve tried to find another story before now. For the last few years, honestly, I’ve looked for something to latch onto the way I have with this one, but nothing feels the way this did. I know I’ve been clinging to something gone or at least mostly gone, both the community and the story, but I haven’t known how to let go when nothing makes me feel the same way, even when the feeling has faded and changed so much with time. This was never supposed to go on this long. Honestly, the reason I started posting mcyt stuff to my sideblog instead of my main was because I assumed I would get over it in a few weeks, delete the posts, and move on. Three years. 40 works. Over a million words. Just. Fuck.

I loved these characters so much and I’ve wrapped up my writing in them for so long it’s hard to separate the two. At this point, it feels like these characters are what allow me to write, separate from the main story, but a place where I could work things out for myself as a person and try new things as a writer. And I’ve tried so hard to feel the same way about the QSMP, but maybe it’s because we’re out of lockdown so I don't have time to watch much, or I’ve just changed more than I’ve thought, but I haven't gotten attached the way I did even when I look at the stories being built there and can see the heart in them, the storytelling, the care, just as much as the DSMP if not more. There’s no good reason for it, it just hasn’t locked into place the way this story had, having been the perfect storm of circumstances. The DSMP came to me during one of the worst years of my life, and I have loved it so much I miss that time even with all the bad it carried too.

And now this thing I have been holding onto can only make me angry, hit me with grief and disgust. Fuck, the only plan I’ve had for an original novel in years is a loose adaptation of TDDD. My senior thesis was largely a novella about two siblings with a complicated relationship, the older fatalistic, the younger brave to the point of ignorance. So even that original project has poison in it now. All of it, all of my fucking work, all of my growth as a writer, all of my writing for over three fucking years has poison in it.

I’ve felt lost as a writer for a long time and the only thing keeping me anchored was these characters. And I don’t know how to cut them away from myself and I don’t know how to cut him away from what’s left when his writing, his character, undeniably gave me so much of a spark. When I’m happy, I write. When I’m sad, I write. There's so much bad in the world right now, but I could always fall back on writing. And now my main means of escape is the grief. Far more than ever before. I know this too shall pass and all that, and this hasn’t actually stolen my ability to write, but right now it all feels so ruined. I don’t know how long it will take for me to be able to look back on what I’ve made and not feel like this. I'd maybe moved on in some ways, but not all. There was so much left I wanted to do.

If you’ve somehow read this far, know that I love this community with my whole heart. I never quite made friends with any of you, even as I wanted to, and it's felt too late for a long time now. My beloved mutuals (and followers that are mutuals in all but name) I have found so much joy with you, in what all of you have created. I wish I could hold onto that above all else, even if I’m not quite sure how. I’m not going anywhere, to be clear. I won’t delete my blog and fall off the face of the earth or anything. I still love what all of you create and care about, even if things have changed and our interests don’t always align anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to detach this story from the creator, to love any of it the way I did or even love what I myself created again. I don’t really know why I’m writing this or if I’ll even post it except for the fact that you all are the only people who could understand.

Again, this was a deeply personal rant, not a statement about the situation as a whole, nor do I think this situation's impact on me takes an ounce of precedent over the person actually involved. The most important takeaway from this is what Shelby has shared, the importance of believing victims, to do what we can to protect ourselves from abuse that doesn’t seem obvious, and to look out for each other. Take care of yourselves, everyone.

#spilled penink #fuck i don't know what to tag this.#wilbur situation #abuse tw #ask to tag #I don't know about my current fics or what I plan to do going forward so don't read this looking for answers on that.#honestly i just had nowhere else to put this. this is something I would have ideally shared just with close friends #but they'd have no idea what I was talking about so here we are. desperate times.#sorry for the doom and gloom. i know there's been a lot of it as of late. please feel free to keep scrolling.#idc if people reblog. this is just. not the important thing right now yknow.#supporting shubble is all that really matters.

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zwy01 · 2 months

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Blood Moon AU!! Part 1 - Nobles

Time for a second major AU yayy!! I’m still working on Millennium AU as usual, though I want to get started on another one that’s been on my mind since years ago but never really got the chance to put on paper.

So here we are. I’m calling this Blood Moon AU. The nobles and werewolves basically have a race swap in an almost brand new setting. Lukedonia and werewolf island still exist; it’s the characters that have changed.

All characters reference their canon counterparts to various degrees. Some are similar or even near identical to the original, while some are vastly different. This could apply to names, looks, personalities, heritage/family, moral alignment… etc. It’s gonna be fun! I’m going to let myself get crazy with this and change things up quite a bit, haha.

As for the story. To be completely honest, at this point I just want to start off this new AU as more of a simple artistic approach. Right now I’m much more interested in designing and drawing the characters rather than writing the story itself. Maybe I’ll come up with something much later but it won’t be nearly as complicated as Millennium AU, and it’ll be fairly straightforward. Even then, I don’t want to rush it so that’s for the future. If I end up liking this new AU more than I do right now, maybe I’ll give the story an honest shot and turn it into more of a long-term project, but time will tell.

(Fyi “Noblesse” does not exist in the world. Too early for details but they either never existed, are a now permanently extinct special type of noble, or they simply peaced out and ditched Earth and returned to their special heavenly realm… etc. Honestly doesn’t matter. In this AU’s setting, they are absent. “Raizel” and his brother do exist but they’re both human. Actual normal human beings, with a normal life, currently students at a normal high school, stuff like that. Just your average human. The trio are also unmodified normal human beings. They are scattered across the world and never meet each other. Basically, unlike their canon counterparts, their existence is minimal and contribute to almost nothing in this universe. It’s weird, I know! That’s just how this AU is set up)

I’m going to split the noble and werewolf characters into two parts. Doing the (originally werewolves) nobles first! Posting the werewolves in a future post aka. part 2.

The characters!

Lucretia Natalina “Lunark” Drosia: Leader of the Drosia Clan. Kendrick’s twin, and on-and-off lovers with Julius. A rather carefree woman who is primarily interested in having fun, and shows little to no concern for the future of Lukedonia as a whole. When it comes to her people, she is a decent Clan Leader and manages her family efficiently. Lucretia’s efforts only apply to her clan, and her interests in other noble affairs are almost nonexistent. She has a habit of ditching meetings and whatnots. Sometimes, she even tries to ignore the Lord’s summons but ends up going anyway because her lovely daughter makes her show up. The only thing that can get Lucretia’s blood pumping with true passion is an offer to spar. Lucretia is an excellent fighter. People have to be very careful to not interrupt her fights unless they want to unleash her wrath, because she hates it when people invite themselves into her business. She also likes to flirt with her opponents during spars. Lucretia has a bit of a weird relationship with Julius, who is the father of her daughter. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Kendrick Tian-Chen “Kentas” Ru: Leader of the Ru Clan. Lucretia’s twin. A prideful, stubborn man who believes that the stronger should rule the weak. Like his sister Lucretia, he likes to fight and enjoys a good spar. Sometimes, people can choose to settle a quarrel with Kendrick by offering to spar with him and he would gladly accept. You can trust him, because he’s a man of his word. No more grudges, no hurt feelings. Done. In a way, he’s quite simple. Unlike his sister, Kendrick does care about the future of Lukedonia. He has a strong moral code of his own, but that can be overridden by his belief of submitting to the strong. That is why Kendrick is extremely loyal to their Lord and never questions him even if the latter makes some controversial decisions. As of now, Kendrick has no children.

Marcus Duruvan “Maduke” Siriana: Leader of the Siriana Clan. Erica’s older brother, and the Lord’s advisor. The only person who truly has everyone’s best interests at heart. You can say he’s the most “good person” leaning guy in this entire AU. Marcus is quite worried about the future under their Lord’s reign. Life is pretty comfortable inside Lukedonia, which is by itself very isolated from the rest of the world. However, Marcus foresees the destruction of planet earth if no one stops the Lord, since the latter doesn’t care about other races and is only concerned with the prosperity of nobles. Though, he doesn’t want to overthrow the Lord and instead wants to convince him to step away from his current path of darkness. He believes there is still hope. Simultaneously, Marcus is secretly gathering followers and supporters who all share his beliefs and formed his own organization. Together they work to transport resources out of Lukedonia and deliver them to humans and werewolves in need because the Lord refuses the share.

Marcus is struggling to plan for the future of the Siriana Clan, in case the Lord gets tired of him and decides to kill him one day for “meddling” too much, because his younger sister Erica is insane and cruel which makes her the worst possible candidate for the next Clan Leader of Siriana. Marcus loves her, but also fears her. He doesn’t know what she is capable of. Marcus is trying to look for ways to bypass his sister and hopefully be able to hand over both his position and Soul Weapon to another pure-blooded Siriana who isn’t his sister.

Marcus had a son, but he was assassinated sometime after his coming-of-age ceremony and now Marcus is once again childless and without an heir. To this day no one can figure out who the culprit is.

Erica Siriana: Marcus’ younger sister, and next-in-line for the position of Siriana Clan Leader. Wife of Lord Maximilian, and mother of Ashlynn. Erica is a ruthless, bloodthirsty woman. She is actually the person who orchestrated her nephew’s assassination. She made sure he was killed, then got rid of his killers, whom she sent, with her own hands. No one is going to suspect a thing and they’ll never find out no matter how hard they try. Erica did this to eliminate brother Marcus’ heir so she can regain her position as first-in-line. She’s been after her nephew ever since he was born, but waited for two whole centuries before doing the deed. To Erica, she’s just getting back what she’s entitled to, which is the full power, control, and privileges of a Clan Leader. Marcus is trying to be discreet but if Erica ever finds out that her brother intends to bypass her and give his position and Soul Weapon to someone else, she might actually just kill him and take over the clan immediately. Erica is truly a terrifying, power-hungry woman who will do anything to reach her goals. She does not care for anyone aside from her daughter Ashlynn and husband Maximilian, whom she genuinely loves. As messed up as Erica is, she is capable of being very loving and committed to whom she treasures. She and her husband are absolutely addicted to each other and he would let her do anything her heart wishes for, even if she continuously breaks Lukedonian laws.

Vivienne Branwen Di Ashlynn: Name means “lively and blessed raven of dreams”. Daughter of Erica Siriana and Lord Maximilian, and the next Lord of Lukedonia. On the surface, Ashlynn isn’t as straightforward as her mother despite their similarities. Ashlynn is just as ruthless and bloodthirsty as Erica, but the former puts on a facade in front of her people and pretends to be a sweet, altruistic future Lord. The perfect angel princess. And she’s very successful at it. Ashlynn is energetic, talkative, and empathetic around her subjects. She always tells them about how she wants her father to teach her power so she can protect not only her subjects, but also people around the world so they don’t have to suffer from hunger and war. In reality, she doesn’t care about any of them and she honestly thinks of them as a burden. They’re nothing more than cockroaches to her, and she’s only doing this because she enjoys deceiving her people and pulling on their puppet strings. She welcomes the love and respect they give her, and at the same time pities them for not knowing better, for she’s had them fooled this entire time. The world is her stage, and she’s the center. Ashlynn only drops her act and returns to her true self around her parents, who not only tolerate, but also accept and even encourage their daughter’s behavior. Well, their entire family is insane. Erica and Maximilian are totally overindulging Ashlynn while being completely aware of the fact that she is just as insane as them with no attempt to correct her, because she’s their little princess and hey, if she wants the world, then they’ll give it to her. Like Erica, Ashlynn doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t her family. Ashlynn loves both of her parents to the moon and back, and she might as well kill anyone who dares to speak ill about either of them. No one is allowed to disrespect them in front of her. Not a single word.

Ashlynn has a crush on Dominic and wants him for herself one day.

Eutimio Friedrich Di Maximilian: Name means “good-spirited and peaceful ruler of the greatest”. The current Lord, husband of Erica Siriana, and father of Ashlynn. Maximilian firmly believes that nobles are the most supreme beings to exist on this planet, and that they have a right to rule over every other species. Humans, werewolves, whatever… well, for now he’ll let them be for as long as they’re still useful. He won’t hesitate to unleash his power on them if he loses his patience. From a world view, Maximilian would be categorized as “evil”, but he doesn’t think of himself as such. In fact, he believes that he is doing good for his people, who are his priority. Which is true from a certain perspective, especially to the nobles who share their Lord’s vision. To them, Lord Maximilian is the greatest Lord in all of noble history. To others who strongly disagree with him, he is the most terrifying and coldblooded Lord in existence. Maximilian is only concerned with the prosperity of Lukedonia and doesn’t quite welcome the idea of distributing resources with the rest of the world. He doesn’t want the nobles to simply exist alongside other species; he’ll make sure the nobles are on the very top of the food chain. Everyone else is irrelevant and they’re all at his mercy. Generally, opinions are very divided and you either side with him, or you don’t. Life is very, very comfortable inside Lukedonia, and indeed, to some nobles, that is all they care about. Those with more empathy see beyond the obvious and are concerned with what goes on outside Lukedonia. The thing with Maximilian is that despite showing neither mercy nor any sign of remorse for his deeds in the outside world, he is actually quite lenient and loving with his subjects. You can say he has two extreme sides to him. He’s very kind to his nobles, but only them. He doesn’t mind if Lucretia skips meetings; he’d let her be. Or when his servants make mistakes, when someone does something offensive, etc... it’s alright, no big deal. In a way, Maximilian’s Lukedonia is teeming with freedom like never before under the rule of his predecessors. This is where Marcus comes in. He is just nervous and overthinking about getting killed if he says the wrong thing, but in reality Maximilian doesn’t mind voices of objection. He’s not going to give anyone a treason sentence or kill them for saying what they really think of him. You can tell him you disagree with him, he’ll just shrug it off and laugh. Say all you want, he knows you’re trying to persuade him, he doesn’t care. He’ll just keep doing what he’s always been doing. Maximilian knows he’s the Lord, and ultimately it is his decision to make. Just don’t let Ashlynn know, because she’ll come after your head if she figures out that you had doubts about her precious Daddy.

Maximilian is a very loving husband and father to his family. He is obsessed with them just as much as they are obsessed with him. On a personal level, while Maximilian himself doesn’t crave for the blood of his own kind like his wife and daughter do, he doesn’t mind letting them do whatever they want for the funs and thrills. Erica and Ashlynn are free to break the law all they want. Though, they’re smart and strategic with it and don’t commit murder in broad daylight. Still, Maximilian is aware of his beloveds’ occasional killings, and he lets them be. He’s the type of person who would let them burn down the entirety of Lukedonia to nothing more than a pile of ash if that is what they wish to do. It’s no big deal, he’ll just rebuild Lukedonia to be even grander and more luxurious than before! To Maximilian, they are the only two existences in this world to come before Lukedonia. How sweet.

Zivon Tradio: Leader of the Tradio Clan. An elderly sorcerer who is quite the hard worker, and spends most of his time studying existing spells as well as coming up with new ones. He’s from the previous generation of nobles, and he stayed behind because he’s just too damn cool to die. Just kidding, his love for magic is why he’s still rocking it. It’s still too early! Zivon’s ultimate goal is to push the boundaries of noble magic and to create what has never been seen before. A true spectacle to behold. Zivon is one of Lord Maximilian’s favorite subjects and the latter even has an entire wifi system built and set up in Lukedonia as a gift just because the former has the hobby of streaming and likes being an “influencer”or whatever the humans call it. Zivon is quite an internet celebrity and Lord Maximilian is supportive of his work of “spreading superior noble influence over humans”. Zivon is also Princess Ashlynn’s tutor, who calls him “teacher”.

As of now, Zivon has no children.

Julius Loyard: Leader of the Loyard Clan. On-and-off lovers with Lucretia. An elegant man who is well-received by his fellow nobles. Julius is a man of few words and usually doesn’t express himself beyond the bare minimum required to be polite. While Julius does admit to enjoying the lavish lifestyle that was a gift from the Lord to all nobles, he is beginning to see why this is a problem for beings outside Lukedonia and starts to sympathize with them. It isn’t easy for him immediately to give up what he’s been used to all these years, but he’s starting to steer away from that lifestyle in support of the less fortunate. Julius was one of the first members to join Marcus’ secret organization of smuggling resources out of Lukedonia to help those in need. Currently, he’s responsible as the leader of the food distribution sector. In his free time, Julius is a jewelry designer and Lord Maximilian is a fan of his work.

Julius’ heir is his son whom he had with Lucretia. He is fond of her but doesn’t entirely agree with her rather carefree personality. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Giada Agvain: Leader of the Agvain Clan. Like Kendrick, she is extremely loyal to their Lord. She’s been by his side since the beginning, and they are childhood friends. Everyone knows that Giada used to feel one-sided love for the then-Maximilian and now Lord Maximilian, but what they don’t know is that she is still in love with him. Well, maybe it’s better for them to continue to believe that she has gotten over him. It’s not like he’ll ever like her back anyway, and you’ll never know what Princess Ashlynn will do if she finds out that anyone other than her precious Mommy is “coveting” her beloved Daddy. Giada is one of the few people who knows about Ashlynn’s true nature despite the latter’s angelic facade. While Giada does love Max on a personal level and is loyal to him, she doesn’t agree with his actions. She is also one of the first members of Marcus’ organization. Currently, Giada is responsible as the leader of the money distribution sector. In her free time, Giada tends to a small spider lily garden.

Giada’s heir is her daughter whom she had with an unnamed noble woman.

Dominic Raffaello “Dorant” Blerster: Leader of the Blerster Clan. A calm and rational man who remains unfazed in extreme situations. He is also the youngest to become Clan Leader, because his mother and predecessor saw so much potential in him, she passed over her title and Soul Weapon to him as soon as he came of age. Dominic pretends to be fairly neutral, and most people think he isn’t dedicated to anything or anyone, but he’s actually Lord Maximilian’s right hand man in the shadows. On the surface, he is simply Clan Leader of the Blersters and does a good job of managing his clan. When he no longer needs to act as Clan Leader, Dominic goes to the castle and reports everyone’s moves to his Lord. Dominic is actually a member of Marcus’ secret organization and oversees the medical distribution sector… as a double agent. His allegiance is with the Lord and he’s only there to watch what everyone else is doing to report back to his master. That includes a long list of who is working with Marcus, what resources they have been smuggling out of Lukedonia, who is on the receiving end… etc. Every. Single. One. So Lord Maximilian is very much aware of Marcus’ “betrayal” thanks to Dominic. Curiously, Lord Maximilian tells Dominic to just let them be. Perhaps he finds this to be amusing. Nobody knows what he’s thinking. Dominic, on the other hand, is in total awe of his Lord for his immense generosity for the “traitors” even though they clearly don’t deserve it.

Dominic doesn’t know that Ashlynn has a crush on him.

As of now, Dominic has no children.

Undine Mergas: Daughter of the leader of the Mergas Clan. A woman with a short temper who is also easily provoked. Undine’s father, the current Mergas Clan Leader, believes that she is unfit to become Clan Leader due to her personality and tendencies to boss the knights around instead of being a responsible and respectful leader like she is supposed to, but he is hopeful that she will change one day. Undine is best friends with Mimi and the two of them are almost always seen together. On one of her travels to the outside world, Undine met a human named Michael Travis Osborn by chance and she has had a crush on him ever since. He’s pretty cute. Maybe the Lord will let her capture him and bring him back to Lukedonia, she thinks.

Mimi Elenor: Daughter of the leader of the Elenor Clan. A woman with a similar personality to her best friend Undine, but less impulsive and more calm. That’s why they get along and are best friends because they have much in common. Mimi has an older brother so she likely won’t become the next Elenor Clan Leader, but she’s fine with that. In fact, she’s glad she won’t become Clan Leader because all those responsibilities, hassles, sitting in meetings all day, blah blah blah… ew, just too much work. She just wants to have fun, so her brother better be competent so she won’t have to bother with her clan at all. Mimi, like Undine, also has a crush on Michael Travis Osborn. They chat about how cute he is. Both of them want to capture him and bring him into Lukedonia. They’re thinking about discussing this with the Lord. If Lord Maximilian hears about this, he’d approve of the capture and tell them to go ahead and enjoy themselves because of course he wants all of his nobles to get their hands on everything they wish for. Plus, these two remind him of his daughter Ashlynn so he’d be even more generous towards them.

Kushaal Kertia: Leader of the Kertia Clan. Cousin of Galileo. A respected fighter known for his immense speed and agility even amongst the Kertia. Kushaal is also honorable. He dislikes dirty fighting and is fairly open to acknowledging his own weaknesses and strives to become even stronger and faster. He has heard about a certain blonde werewolf warrior who is the fastest of his pack, and wishes to fight him one day. While Kushaal enjoys and supports the luxurious lifestyle given to him by their Lord, he believes that humans and werewolves could use some help from Lukedonia. After all, if they’re all gone, he’s not going to have anyone interesting to fight with anymore. Kushaal would love to spar with the werewolves, so he hopes that they’re doing well. In his free time, Kushaal likes to collect rare werewolf artifacts to display in his home because they feel familiar to him, for some odd reason.

As of now, Kushaal has no children.

Galileo Kravei: Son of the leader of the Kravei Clan. Cousin of Kushaal. A man who has a bit of an inferiority complex because his abilities seem to have hit a wall, and he can’t get stronger with his own strength. Galileo is probably going to get by just fine, even though he himself is more impatient than anyone in terms of wanting to gain strength. Other than that, no one really knows much about him since he tends to keep to himself. In his free time, he plays with his three supernatural pet aquatic snakes: Ramen, Ramyeon, and Lamien. Galileo has a huge love-hate crush on Kendrick, and people will tell you he’s both extra mean and extra nice to him. He sends him cheesy “let’s fight” love letters written on rose scented paper. Yeah. He’s totally in love.

And that’s it for now!

Again, very open to questions and discussion. Quite happy about my second major AU! While this post only touches the surface of what I have in mind, I have a feeling that I will grow to like this AU even more. Maybe I’ll even create brand new OCs specific to this AU lol.

Thank you for reading and stay tuned for future posts!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #fanart #kori’s blood moon au #alternate universe #lunark #kentas #maduke #erin #muzaka #zaiga #ashleen #juraki #garda #dorant #gayare #kuharu #urne #mirai

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for not telling my coworker I'm trying to leave my job?

So I (30sF) work as a second tier support in a tech company, and I hate my current employer. I'm a millennial, I have no shame about ditching a company that treats me badly, I'm just waiting for the right opportunity to do so. Here's what I'm worried about. A new coworker (20sF) started at my company 4ish months ago as a first tier support. My company is absolutely garbage about training/onboarding new employees, and it basically becomes a contest of "who can the new kid find who will actually answer their questions" every day as a new hire. (I went through this myself, it's one of many problems with this company). I'm really sympathetic towards new hires because this experience was so traumatic for me, so I kind of took her under my wing whenever she had questions, even if it was for situations/customers/issues outside of my realm of expertise or coverage. We end up getting along really well. I genuinely think of her as a friend at this point, and because of the age/experience gap, we kind of have a mentor/mentee situation developing as well, which I am also totally fine with. She's smart and has strong career potential, and I want to see her go as far as she can.

This whole time I've been looking for other jobs, though not super aggressively, so nothing really had come of it. At the same time, I and this coworker wind up getting paired up together on some issues for one of the company's most problematic customers. Tl:dr; we kind of end up crushing it; she's more customer-facing as level 1 support, I'm more tech-problem solving as a level 2 support, and we honestly make an incredible team. Even better, she's really thrilled about this success, and I can tell she's finally starting to feel confident about her ability to do this job, which is a huge hurdle to overcome. It's really great to see her coming into her own like this. She doesn't really need much more of my support at all at this point. And she's also started talking more about how good of a team we are. There's rumors of us being put on another project together, and she's excited about that too because we like working together.

And, well, wouldn't you know it, a real dream opportunity at a different company just fell into my lap.

It's nothing definite, I'm not through the interview process so I'm absolutely not saying anything to anyone except for a couple close non-work friends. But if I get an offer for this job, it would be a genuinely amazing opportunity. Like, potentially 100% life changing. It's a level up for my career, a better company overall, and the benefits would also be a lot better. I'm really excited about it.

And while I'm not stupid enough to say ANYTHING to my current company about this at all until I have a signed incoming offer, I'm starting to feel really guilty about not even mentioning to my coworker, or at least warn her that I might not be around for long, let alone for this upcoming project. Nothing's definite, so I don't want to jinx myself, and while I definitely don't think she'd do anything to screw me over on purpose, she's also very chatty with other people on our team and I'm really worried she might let something slip accidentally. But at the same time, every time she refers to us doing something together as a future plan, I feel real real bad about not saying anything.

So tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mayasaura · 1 year

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So Anastasia is waiting in the tomb to reseal it of it gets opened. Does John know this? Because I am remember him at some point telling Harrow she can't have opened the Tomb it's (currently) closed. Because one - well that's a strange capability to hide from John unless you see a need to open the Tomb either multiple times or without him finding out. Two - Anastasia's reaction to Harrow coming in and then walking out would be interesting. And also the timing of when given Alecto's haunting.

That is a very good question. Does John know that Anastasia has been made into—or made herself into—a construct that can reseal the Tomb? Or did he only mean for her to die there, and take his secrets with her? I honestly have no idea. My first assumption had been that John arranged it so he could visit Alecto in secret, but that would be very risky and there's no evidence to support it. We don't know if he even knows it's possible for the ward to be breached and then resealed.

I do think what we saw in there was a construct made from Anastasia's corpse, rather than Anastasia's revenant. Maybe she's a hideous corpse, her revenant bound to a construct of her own bones, but it's impossible to say at this point how much of Anastasia is left after ten thousand years. She may or may not have been aware of Harrow's coming and going. But let's say she's in there, and conscious, and has been standing guard over Alecto for ten thousand years. Who put her there?

Anastasia worked closely with Cassiopeia, and Cassiopeia knew a great deal more than John about blood wards. It's possible she and Anastasia planned to be able to access the Tomb without John's knowledge. Cassiopeia has been known to build secret mechanisms at the heart of Houses. And if Augustine meant it about Harrow being very much like Anastasia, then using her own bones as the material for the mechanism sounds just like her, too.

Evidence from the labs suggests that it was Anastasia and Cassiopeia who created the skeletal servitors at Canaan House, but also that they asked for John's input on that project. So that's sum zero; any of them could have done it.

Putting aside for a moment who set it up, you bring up another great question: Has anyone other than Harrow been in there?

If it's John's doing, he probably has. Boring answer, doesn't delve into any deep mysteries. If it was Anastasia and Cassiopeia... Well. I can think of at least one time the Tomb was a sitting duck. At the moment of Harrow's conception there was a thanergy bloom large enough to irradiate the planet, and the key to the Tomb was already on the Ninth. Literally anyone could have rolled the Rock away, provided they knew who Gideon was and knew that the thanergy bloom was going to happen. I can't say whether or not anyone did, but it would have been possible.

This has me thinking about some of the other unanswered questions. Like how weirdly convenient it is that Harrow's parents were able to reinvent the Resurrection to make her, when there's no evidence of them having an expertise in spirit magic. And how oddly coincidental the timing, that preparations to put the plan into action must have started around the time of Gideon's birth. Why create one last child of Anastasia's direct line, if it comes at the expense of any future for her House? How does Blood of Eden have inside knowledge of the Sixth House, millennia out of date? Who sent the message Aim carries, and who is it meant for?

It does seem like there's a third party working behind the scenes, and there has been for a very long time. Someone with a great deal of knowledge about spirit magic, who knows about the vow Alecto made to Anastasia, who has reason to want the truth to come out. Whether that third party is Anastasia, or Anastasia working in concert with Cassiopeia, or some secret third option, I can't be sure. But there is a whiff of conspiracy about it that has only gotten stronger with the revelations in Nona.

But really, I just want Anastasia to be there of her own volition, for some more dignified reason than to act as John's sepulchral porter. Might as well make Samael into a coat rack to complete the set.

#the locked tomb #anastasia the first #cassiopeia the first #long post #sorry this took so long #I was Mulling It Over #you do not want to know how long the first draft was #so much pepe silva it exhausted ME #ntn spoilers

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mumms-the-word · 1 month

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tbh i'm actually kind of pissed at larian. regardless of if it's sticking it to hasbro or not, they're leaving the game in a potentially awful state and not delivering on promises they made, like the upper city. You also have SWEN talking about shit that could have been like ketheric's recruitment and what not, which stirs the pot even more and makes me angry. Like stop talking about it. we're already upset enough.

These are all very valid critiques, anon! I have many thoughts but I’ll put everything under the cut since I got a little long-winded because I’m passionate about video games in general.

I do play a bit of Devil’s Advocate here but please note I am not attacking you personally or trying to direct any hate towards anybody at all! This ask honestly gave me space to vent some thoughts I’ve had for months about this game. I did my best to offer nuanced perspectives and acknowledge my own biases. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, including their own disappointments and praises for Larian, Swen, the actors, and all involved in the making/maintaining (or lack thereof) of BG3.

TLDR: We shouldn’t put Larian on a pedestal as the Best Studio Ever, but we don’t have to grab our pitchforks and say they’re the worst studio ever either. If BG3 is a disappointment it might be because Larian flew a little too close to the sun trying to squeeze 80% of a functional D&D experience into a digital video game package, when (in my opinion) those two game genres are almost inherently designed to not mesh well, disappointing one fan while satisfying another.

———

Point #1, Idk how much Larian is sticking it to Hasbro but Hasbro IS a greedy corporation who has no idea how to make video games and I very highly suspect they’ve been making demands of Larian’s team that are impossible to meet without destroying the work ethic (and health/mental health/financial stability, etc) of Larian’s team. Hasbro just sees dollar signs. Larian isn’t necessarily as interested in milking BG3 for all it’s worth.

If they were, we’d be paying for Upper City in a DLC, and we’re not. Instead they’re choosing to pivot to a fresh new project that isn’t beholden to Hasbro or the demands of WOTC. Does it feel like they’re abandoning the game? Yeah, kinda. But if Swen says that his team looked visibly relieved to move on to something new, that gives me warning bells. Not against Swen, but about the crunch standard of games industries as a whole and possibly against Hasbro or WOTC. I’d much rather his team take care of their very human selves than grind themselves to ultimate burnout working on a game that is functionally complete, if buggy in places and not satisfying for some players because they didn’t get the content they wanted.

There is no perfect game, after all.

And honestly I’d say the same of any AAA studio too. I am consistently frustrated with game studios firing whole departments for the sake of retaining profits and treating their employees like content robots. Games should not be made at the expense of anyone’s physical or mental health, but unfortunately that’s The Industry Standard. (And personally I think Larian or at least Swen is uncomfortable with that.)

(Also I think people forget that making a game the size of BG3 requires the talents and hard work of hundreds of people. Larian was working with, what, 400 people? And that was after they hired like 250+ to even rise to the challenge of making BG3. Who are we even pointing the finger at for all these issues? Swen? He’s one man.)

Should they have promised something they couldn’t deliver? No. But also, I have no idea what issues led them to cutting the content, either. What’s done is done.

BG3 will be an obsolete game in a year or soon anyway, not because Larian isn’t working on it anymore, but because the games industry is just So. Freaking. Big. and pumps out thousands of games a year. Like, I hate to say it, but people are already dropping BG3 for other games like Dragon’s Dogma 2 because DD2 is shiny, new, and has a bonkers character creator.

And there’s nothing wrong with that! We’re not built to play (or work on) a narrative-focused game for 5-7 years, regardless of what any die-hard Destiny fan tells you (note: multiplayers without narrative get a pass purely because the focus isn’t on the narrative, but on collaborative play).

If a game is no longer fun to play, move on and find something that scratches your itch. Go back and play old games! There are so many things out there to explore. I have a To Be Played pile literally right now, a backlog of games I haven’t tried out yet. I’m sure many others do too.

Point #2 (and here I could be wrong, if I’m not already wrong in my opinions above), but they’re not entirely abandoning the game like…at the drop of a hat. They’re still promising at least a handful of hotfixes and at least one more patch with new evil epilogue endings (among other things).

Does that get us Upper City? Likely not. Does that add enough content to give Wyll a more well-rounded storyline, elevate all the romances to Astarion levels of cutscenes and dialogue, and finish Karlach’s questline with an actual solution for her heart? Also likely not. Is it precious to be mad about these losses? No! Be mad!! Wyll deserves justice!!!

I’d love to explore Upper City. I’m a huge advocate for Wyll getting more/better representation. If I could save Karlach without throwing her into Avernus I would in a HEARTBEAT. But these things aren’t in the game, and they likely won’t be. Larian made decisions to meet a (self-imposed? Hasbro imposed? Industry-relevant?) deadline that are ultimately disappointing. We can absolutely acknowledge that we’re disappointed.

But I don’t necessarily think Larian is just being lazy about these decisions, though. At the end of the day we have no idea what contracts Larian is under, what hell the developers have been through, either from the game industry, Hasbro, rabid fans, or excessively cruel critics, or what technical/gameplay/scheduling/financial issues they ran into at various parts of development.

Like the Ketheric thing (Point #3). Was it bad PR to bring up that Ketheric was a “kill your darlings” decision late in development around the same time you’re openly promoting the end of your relationship with BG3? Yeah. Totally. But I’m not surprised they had to cut something like that. Games, movies, books do that all the time. How many deleted scenes from movies have we seen where it could have changed the whole narrative (maybe even made it better) if it had just stayed in? I can think of a handful. It sucks, but trust me, it hurts the writers and developers way more to cut content they’ve poured money and time and heart and soul into than it hurts us, the players who would never know the wiser if they hadn’t said anything.

But also, the game is ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE. On PC you have to have 150GB free just to install it. Can you imagine how big it would be if they had shoved everything they wanted into it, even if they had delayed the game a while to make it happen? 150GB is a lot.

For perspective, that puts it on par with a very, very, VERY tiny sector of PC games at about the same level (or higher) of GB requirements, including Red Dead Redemption 2 (a fantastic open world game that still holds up in 2024), Microsoft Flight Simulator (which requires 150GB because it’s literally just flying through high quality renders of actual Earth), Forspoken (everyone says all the GB went to graphics here and I believe them), Star Wars: Jedi Survivor (which only has about 50 hours of playable content, allegedly), basically any VR game, and ARK: Survival Evolved which comes in at a whopping 400 GB mostly because of DLC. In other words, games that big get that big either because of graphics or like a hundred DLCs.

BG3 manages to fit in gorgeous cinematics, a super complex spell-combat system, a more or less streamlined video game build for complex D&D combat rules and mechanics, 10 potential companions, 8 romances among those companions, several large maps to explore, and branching narratives that would take you days to read every scrap of dialogue for (I’ve downloaded the datamined files for Patch6, and there are whole leagues of dialogue, encounters, and bits that are in the game, unbugged, that most of us pass by because we don’t explore enough). You want to know where most of the GB goes? It goes towards sustaining a D&D combat/narrative structure that was originally never built with video game constraints in mind.

Do you know how many conditions/status effects there are in the game? Over 1100. 1100+ unique descriptions and titles for conditions that debuff or buff your character or your enemies, granting hundreds of actual gameplay affects. Do you know how many spells there are across the 12 playable classes and all unique spells for enemies and allies? Like 400, if we’re getting picky and splitting hairs over stuff like Rolan’s Magic Missile being different than the usual Magic Missile or if we’re splitting out something like Disguise Self into its 32 different variations. Each spell needs a different icon, a different graphic effect, and it needs to do the right kind of damage and cause the right kind of condition or effect, some of which are immediate, others which linger.

We can speak with dead with hundreds of characters. That’s a lot of dialogue. We can talk to ANY named NPC. That’s a lot of dialogue! We can talk to any animal, with or without speak with animals enabled. That’s a lot of dialogue!!

A single playthrough where I try to explore as much as possible takes me 150 hours or more. I have 500 hours in this game and I’ve only got 4 characters and I’ve only finished 2 of them. This game is mind-bogglingly big. Even if it’s not the biggest game in history ever, or even the biggest game by the time of its release, its BIG.

The biggest critique I would have here is one that I’ve had since I first started playing the game, and it’s that D&D systems and video games don’t mesh comfortably well. I think that Larian got distracted trying to make the ultimate D&D experience, catering to a demographic that is known to ignore plot and pursue shenanigans, and Larian felt the need to build in a lot of shenanigans.

I think they got a little overzealous about it, and that’s where we have missing content, and a lot of fluff that isn’t always plot-relevant. If the game feels unfinished, it’s because Larian started too many threads, and while there are endings to all of those threads, many of them feel rushed or unsatisfactory. Why do they feel unsatisfactory? Because we’re offered so much freedom early on, only to be pulled back into the much more limited narrative constraints of a video game at the end. Because the game has to end eventually, unlike a D&D campaign which could go on or explore many other possibilities. But by act 3 in a 150 GB game, we’re running out of time and space.

And yes that’s disappointing as hell and Larian could and arguably SHOULD have made different decisions on what to focus on.

But ultimately, you just can’t fit a full-on, any-choice-goes D&D experience in a game that needs to be packaged neatly enough to run on most PCs or consoles, and Larian was ambitious as hell to try. Contrary to popular belief, I think they did pretty freaking well given the challenge, and no, it isn’t perfect, and no, to confess to my own bias, I don’t have the same complicated history with the game that early access or release day players have because I bought the game like 2 months after it was out and patched twice. But they’ve clearly built a game that people love so much they’re upset there isn’t more of it, or at least upset it isn’t the best it can be.

But sometimes we have to be realistic too. I can only imagine how many more bugs or render issues we’d get if they did try to shove in Upper City at this point. Games can only be so big before they start to become too much for the systems that try to run them and I don’t want the games industry veering towards making games an elitist hobby for only the rich and elite who can afford expensive rigs and $100 games.

(And also, I’m not at all upset that for $70 bucks I got 500 hours of gameplay and I’m not 100% sick of it yet. When EA and Activision are getting players to pay hundreds in micro transactions and DLC and dangling extra maps and new missions behind paywalls? Bish, please, I’m good. You want to talk about an unfinished experience? Dragon Age: Inquisition made us pay for our epilogue content as a DLC. At least Larian built theirs in for free from the start.)

Anyway.

All that said, I’m sure if Larian could turn back the clock and start over, they’d make different decisions about what to keep, cut, and refine. But we’re here now.

If I want to see anything from Larian right now, it’s a dedication to fix ongoing bugs that make the game unplayable or that block the narratives that they have built so that they play correctly (like with the Minthara romance). IDEALLY I’d like to see them add more content for companions other than Astarion, to equalize the romance experiences, but I’m not holding my breath (again, considering things like game development, actor schedules, contracts, etc).

While I’m sad about the permanent loss of stuff like the Upper City and disappointed by all the rushed questlines, I’d rather them fix the bugs that make the game un-fun to play and bow out gracefully once they’re sure the game won’t need constant supervision.

Besides, they’re working on cross-platform mod support, and mods are gonna add and mess with the game for many years to come, so we can pivot to support them instead while Larian works on its next game (and hopefully learns from its mistakes with BG3).

#bg3 critical #bg3 #my thoughts #super long post #long post #larian critical #op/anon I appreciate you and your ask #my hyperfixation triggered and I almost didn’t post this :’)#anyways feel free to ignore

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dearestones · 4 months

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The Perils of Being Better than Everyone Else (Idia Shroud and Yuu)

Warnings: The Prefect is described as being shorter and smaller than Idia, gamer lingo, Idia’s poor self esteem combined with his arrogance.

@fjshii Request: Hello lovely! :)

I was wondering if I could make a request? There's something that's been rotating in my head :) Of course, I just want to emphasize the fact that this is a very casual ask!!! If you're working on other projects or just honestly don't feel like it then yes!!! Perfect :) I am in 100% support 😌😌😌 I enjoy whatever's on the table <3 But yes!!! I just wanted to say that! It was important :)

As for the actual request lol, I was wondering about a twst scenario with one of the boys teaching Yuu how to tie a tie? I just think it could be very sweet :) or hilarious if depending on who we're talking about. Whoever out of the cast is fine! :) I'm just hoping one of the students instead of the faculty (and oddly enough, not Vil please LMAO he just fits the bill a bit too much? if that's okay😂), but honestly, yeah, wherever your gut takes you. I also think this could be a really fun way to test out some characters we haven't seen from you yet before their debut in Caged Birds :)

Anywho! Yes! Only if you really want :) I hope you're having an enjoyable week, and thanks for all you share! :) <3

Dying on the inside certainly wasn't the worst thing that could ever happen to Idia, but it was definitely one of the top five sensations that he wished he didn't have to live with on a day to day basis. It was a feeling that had plagued him for a long time now, but it seemed that the occurrence of such a feeling seemed to happen with higher frequency after he had first started attending Night Raven College. It didn't take long to amass data points and map it out onto a graph: the points were clear and simple.

Out of everyone else in that hallowed institution, Idia Shroud was a being 'other' than the rest of them.

Yes, there were students who sported fangs. There were those who were blessed (or perhaps even cursed) with furry ears and tails. Others still had pointed ears and a longevity that most mortals would have killed for.

However, among the treasure trove of such eccentricities, Idia was by far one of the strangest.

It was quite obvious, with the flaming hair and the inevitable display of the veritable knives that rose from his gums, that Idia would be singled out as 'strange'.

Well, that was all relative when one had to consider that there was even a student from another world! It was an interesting phenomenon and Idia was sure that there would be more of a hubbub around that student’s origins, but surprisingly, there wasn’t any. At least, Idia hadn’t observed any sort of curious reactions from any NRC students. Then again, he could relate. After all, while the magicless student definitely had main character vibes, they were not as noteworthy as other famous individuals at the school like royalty, child prodigies, and the like.

So, you would think that having a person with main character vibes would give them plot armor, but…

One should not underestimate the power of SSR Problematic Children, especially those who had orchestrated their own boss battles.

The incident happened when Idia had been busy getting a drink from one of the vending machines that was situated in one of the hallways of the school. On this particular school day, he had been tasked with the brunt of a presentation and because it had been weeks since he had set foot into an actual classroom, his professor had requested that he attend in real life. Idia tried to put up a fight (read: he had begged and pleaded via email), but his professor had cited the rubric’s requirements and that it was a mandatory project that needed his presence. Needless to say, despite the fight in Idia, he had ended up folding the instant he thought he read an irritated tone in the email correspondence.

(Idia would have definitely shown up the professor considering that the subject he was required to present was basically the fundamentals to understanding the integration of magic into technology, but decided to let the matter go.

He was merciful like that and he was above such triviality).

When the time came, Idia felt himself sweating buckeyes and burrowing into the safety of his hooded jacket. Why did the entire world have to be composed of extraverts? Thankfully, during the presentation, his partner had taken the reins, which meant that the Ignihyde Housewarden didn’t have to speak as much as he thought he would. It may or may not be because of the contingency plan he had constructed back when he was a lowly first year. (That is to say, Idia made sure to send a copy of the presentation and notes to his partner beforehand).

As always, his plan worked because, after all, he was a genius.

So, after a lengthy class session that involved Idia pretending to listen to his peers drone on and on about their presentations (most of which were either not well researched or as well presented…and sometimes, it was a combination of both) while he was surreptitiously playing games on his phone, Idia was thirsty. It wasn’t like he had talked much, but effort was still effort, even if it wasn’t at his one hundred percent.

And besides—

Precipice Moirai had teamed up with a lesser known energy drink that Idia had yet to taste. After having checked out the reviews, it was a widespread opinion that the energy drink wasn’t all too dissimilar to others of its kind. The taste wasn’t too remarkable and wasn’t well worth the hype except for the members of the famed idol group plastering their faces upon the tin.

To say that Idia was annoyed was an understatement. Even if Premo had teamed up with a drink that didn’t taste good, that didn’t mean that fans should turn their backs against their beloved idols! Honestly, what sort of fans were they to talk such pessimistic sentiments about something that they didn’t have to buy? Idia was loyal and he was going to drink at least one can.

And for those weirdos who left such disparaging comments on the forums… Let’s just say that they were going to be in for a treat when they finally logged back on.

As Idia punched in the correct combination that would release the sweet, sugary nectar into his waiting grasp, he heard a familiar voice in the hallway. Even if it was from a distance, he felt himself shrink a little in his oversized hoodie and his hands trembled in anxiety. Out of everyone else in this school, no other SSR Problematic Child could appear so cute and unassuming, only to reveal that he himself was as much of a problem as his contemporaries.

Riddle Rosehearts.

A taskmaster to the core, the infamous Teapot Tyrant of Heartslabyul was busy berating a first year while Idia could only watch in detached horror. Fascinatingly enough, the first year only looked faintly amused by Riddle’s seemingly heated tirade. Now that Idia thought about it (from the safety of the bulky vending machine), Riddle hadn’t raised his voice or shouted his Unique Magic. Yes, the Taskmaster had been gradually mellowed out because of his Overblot (sadly, the experience hadn’t given Riddle a debuff when it came to his perfunctory nature), but Idia had only observed from hearsay and the off chance he decided to note Riddle’s behavior during meetings.

The change wasn’t drastic, but it reminded Idia of the character development for one of the villains in a manga series he had read a few years’ ago. A scary thought to be sure. There was no way Idia could try to compare the intricacies of an award winning manga to the messiness of human nature, but the fact that he had thought of it! For a mere second!

Ughhhh… 2D was always better than 3D.

Before the Ignihyde Housewarden could suffer another meltdown that paled in comparison to the ire he felt at the idea of partnering with someone for a school project, he became all too aware that he was no longer alone at the vending machine. Now, Idia was no macho man (the S.T.Y.X. situation had certainly taught him that much), but he would rather go down into the depths of Tartarus or give access to his laptop without restriction to his mother before saying that he shrieked upon the realization.

Yes, he will admit that he emitted a high pitched sound and jumped a foot in the air at the scare.

But still.

It was nothing more than an excited exhalation of air.

Nothing more.

“Oh, gosh! Sorry about that, Idia! I thought you noticed me since I saw you watching Riddle and I earlier!” The Prefect’s voice was not as grating or as needlessly loud as some of the other students at this school—in fact, it was rather soft and apologetic—but Idia had to bury the urge to cover their mouth with his hands. (No way was he going to risk contaminating his gaming hands with someone who never heard of Premo before!)

Plus…

Taskmaster Riddle could be still lying in wait for the next person to scold!

“Q-quiet down!” Idia’s tablet may have generated his voice, but it clearly conveyed the urgency and the volume that Idia’s vocal cords would have produced. “The world may be okay with catering to the whims of the extraverted, but as an introvert, I will not bow to such societal pressures.”

The Prefect cocked their head to the side and gave Idia one long, hard look.

“For sure. Fight the power, Idia.”

Did he raise his friendship meter with the Prefect? Not that he wanted to, the Prefect was calming to talk to on most days, but that didn’t mean that they were exempt from the disease known as “sociability”. Idia didn’t do that.

“So… is that any good?”

Idia was about to ask what the Prefect meant by that question before realizing that he was still holding the energy drink (unopened). Ah, he had yet to fulfill today’s daily quest.

Idia shrugged, feeling a little bit foolish as he regarded his loot. A part of him wanted to run away or shrink into his hoodie, but it would be too troublesome to rule up the Prefect because once you piqued the Prefect’s interest, bad things happened.

Like Riddle mellowing out.

Or Leona actually taking initiative.

Or Azul—No, he hadn’t changed a bit. A shady businessman to his core, that one.

Whatever the case, Idia was so busy trying to come up with an exit strategy to leave ASAP (he had an afternoon campaign and he was AFK for too long!) that he nearly missed the Prefect’s little sigh.

HAD HE OFFENDED THEM BECAUSE HE HAD SPENT TOO MUCH TIME THINKING?

Utter madness, why did anyone willingly submit themselves to the horrors of etiquette and good manners? The rules of polite society never made that much sense to him…

“Gosh, I wish I could have some of that.” When did the Prefect step closer to inspect the can? “But if Riddle catches me overloading on sugar again, he’s going to make me help ADeuce with dressing up the flamingos for midmorning croquet.”

Three years and Heartslabyul was a puzzle that Idia was not hard pressed to solve. RIP, GG to the n00bs who thought that Heartslabyul was one of the nicer dorms.

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.

“I know he means well, but he’s not my dad, right?”

There was a note of ruefulness in the Prefect’s voice that Idia was quick to note, but just as quickly discarded because no. Absolutely not. No, he was not going to get roped up into the Prefect’s problems. He had Board Game Club following the events of the winter holidays and Azul was quick to complain about the destruction done to his restaurant! (There was also the Scarabia Overblot, but not many people talked about it unless you were a Scarabian and offended on Kalim’s behalf, but that was another matter entirely).

“And you know what else?” Was the Prefect still talking? Sevens, the Prefect was still talking! Was Idia’s blatant discomfort not enough to dissuade further social interaction? Or had Idia unlocked a secret achievement: meeting a sassy, sadistic Prefect? “He told me that I needed to start tying my ties because he won’t do them for me anymore! I can do them, I just like it when he does it because his knots are perfect and I feel like an honor student.”

Idia was going to regret this later (in hindsight, he could have ended that conversation then and there by agreeing with the Prefect and then saying that he had plans to do! because! he! had! a! campaign!), but he piped up, sardonic judgment in his voice, “So that thing around your neck is Riddle’s doing?”

“This gorgeous thing?” The Ramshackle Prefect patted their tie that had been so horrible crumpled and knotted into a sad mass of fabric that looked like it wanted to be a tie, but was weighed down with too much responsibility. Like child support. Taxes. And maybe vehicular manslaughter. Or you know, weighing down your future with expectations that you had to fulfill because of your lineage. “You know, you have the same look Riddle gave me when he saw me earlier. It’s like… he was so amazed by my mad skills that he had no choice but to stare. A total loss for words!”

“You…” Gloomurai abort. Gloomurai. Abort. Gloomurai! Abort! “You need help.”

Scratch that, Idia needed help.

Send dudes! Send the troops!

Call in the reinforcements!

Sevens, screw his thoughts regarding internet anonymity! Send in Muscle Red!!!

He needed an adult!

(Yes, he was technically not a minor anymore, but he needed an adultier adult!)

“Um…”

“Shhh!”

Idia huffed a little to himself as he looked at the length of the Prefect’s tie, the fabric somewhat wrinkled and worn from their attempts to make some sort of bow around their neck. For reasons that Idia could not quite fathom, the conversation right after he had noted how much the Prefect sucked at tying their tie had resulted in this.

(“You’re such a total n00b! ROTFLOL. No wonder the Taskmaster himself singled you out! In fact, I wonder why the final boss from Pomefiore hasn’t talked to you yet!”

“Oh, Vil? He did.”

“And?” Idia hadn’t meant to ask, but his curiosity was piqued. Thr Ignihyde Housewarden managed to evade his fellow third year because of their differing class schedules, but that didn’t mean he did not have his fair share of scoldings.

“He told me that poor little potatoes like me needed to get tended to better. Whatever that meant.”

Lucky! Usually, Vil would have had Idia on the ropes, fighting for his life, while Vil threatened to throw toner, moisturizer, and other beauty products at him. Pfffttt, as if the family curse wasn’t already doing wonders to his body.

“Ha! I definitely could do better than you!”

“Oh really?” Oh. Oh no. Whenever normies looked like that, it could mean only one thing: trouble. “Why don’t you show me how?”

Say no.

Idia say no.

Idia say—

“You’ll be like my kouhai! For tying ties. Unless you’re as bad at it like me”

That did it.

Idia placed the energy drink on the ground and began typing in a search query into his tablet.

“First of all, kouhai means junior. Obviously, I’m your senpai or your senior. Second of all, of course I know how to tie a tie! What do you take me for? I’m going to tie a tie so—“)

After wrangling the Prefect’s tie away from their ratty uniform, Idia tried to remember how to tie a tie. His fingers, as deft and as quick as they were when commanding the keyboard or maneuvering a mouse, were somewhat slow and clumsy as he tried to shift the fabric into a loop. How did his father teach him again? It was somewhat awkward—when were things not awkward?—and it lasted a lot longer than it should have, but eventually, Idia was choked into submission into society’s standards of what a young man with a promising future should look like.

Ugh.

And then his dad tried to talk to him about the future, but Idia kinda, sorta tuned him out because he really didn’t want to think about the future any more than he had to. Thus, Idia was dressed like any first year student should… But that was only for a little while.

After Idia suffered through a week of choking himself or looking the fool with his poorly tied tie, he ordered a special, custom-made hoodie. And then he never looked back. Yes, he was not as well dressed as someone like Vil or Riddle, but it wasn’t like he aspired to be them. As if anyone other than overachievers and those with images to maintain actually cared about what they looked like.

Idia was already a freak; if he looked like a normal preppy extravert, he would undoubtedly look even more freaky.

(Like an alien trying to fit in).

Anyway, back to the matter at hand, Idia was screwed.

He screwed up.

GG.

FF.

All of his HP had decreased to an increasingly concerning level and now, he was only a second away from curling into a ball and crying. Where was Ortho when he needed him? You could only watch the same Magicam video of how to tie a tie so many times before you began to realize that you were not as skilled as you thought you were.

Also, the Prefect was giving him a strange smile that made Idia’s cheeks heat and his hair—SEVENS HIS HAIR!

Curse this curse!

“So… do you give—”

Idia, in an uncharacteristic manner, bared his teeth wide as he glared at the Prefect with the power of a million dying suns. “No! I will git gud! This tie will bow down to my brilliance!”

The tie was not OP, it couldn’t be.

That was unreal and Idia was being realistic.

All he needed to do was breathe and—

“You know—” Stop talking. Stop talking. Why are you talking? “—I think I know what the problem is!”

Idia, in near tears and just about ready to call it a day, had no choice but to blurt out, “What? What could it possibly be?”

Yes, he was that desperate.

“Well, you’re holding it in your hands and tying it that way. Don’t you think that it would be easier if you tied it on me? Plus, if you succeed, I get a perfect tie!”

PHYSICAL CONTACT.

WAS THIS WHAT THE WORLD WAS COMING TO?

PHYSICAL CONTACT?

And then, Idia heard the ‘if’ that the Prefect said. And then the implication set in.

If he succeeds?

There was obvious psychological manipulation here—the Prefect must have spent way too much time at Octavinelle because this stunk of seafood—but Idia had no choice.

This was like the sunk cost fallacy. He had already spent so much time trying to show off in front of the Prefect that it would do him no good if he backed off now.

“O-oh! O-okay!”

Idia’s fingers trembled as he approached the Prefect. Now that he was close to them, he realized that even though he was slouching, the Ramshackle Prefect was actually really short compared to him. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have felt so nervous—the Prefect was not as intimidating as other Night Raven College students—but still.

Was the Prefect going to recoil in disgust when he touched them?

Were they going to make fun of him for fumbling for so long?

Or—

“Keep going, Idia!” The Prefect cheered. Their eyes were on his hands, both of which were maneuvering the fabric of the tie around their neck with slow, stuttering movements. Swallowing hard, Idia found himself entranced as the Prefect’s small hands began to guide his own into vaguely familiar movements.

First, the tie was measured out to its correct length. Then, when Idia began to falter, the Prefect (again) guided his hands until he remembered that he had to cross the length of the left piece of fabric over the right. He would then bring up the left piece again. A beat passed as Idia tried to remember the succeeding steps before starting up again, this time, with a little more confidence. Once that was done, he brought up the left piece of fabric that was longer and thicker than the right so that it could enter into the loop that was created from the previous steps.

And then, Idia tugged until the knot of the tie was perfectly formed and flush against the Prefect’s throat.

He…

He actually did it?

He actually—

“Oh, wow! That’s so cool!” The Prefect beamed the world’s brightest smile at Idia.

The effect was immediate and painful; the AoE would have been off the charts if it were not for the following move that the Prefect made.

Without so much as a look of remorse, the Prefect tugged off the tie, undid the loops, and gave Idia the looping, crumpled fabric.

“Now, you gotta teach me this time.”

NO.

NOOOOOO—

“Ortho, I have now entered my villain era.” Idia slumped into his bed, not at all minding the crumbs from his ultra healthy dietary habits. As he curled up, he saw that Ortho was floating beside his head, a look of concern over his childlike features.

“Are you referring to your fashion session with the Ramshackle Prefect? I saw the entire thing! I had no idea that the Prefect was so bad at tying ties!”

“Me neither.”

“But at the very least you managed to taste that new energy drink, right?”

Idia felt his breath catch.

“FUCK.”

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst idia #twst yuu #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud #twisted wonderland yuu #dearestones #devintrinidad #gender neutral #gn! reader

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