#some of the designs are practically unrecognizable

[shoomlah]

how do you consistently draw the same character without it looking weird or off every different time?? also how do i coordinate faces, i always make the eyes too far apart or too big or too small or make the mouth too close to the nose or chin edge. If you have any advice I'd really appreciate it since it looks like you have your art shit figured out 🙏

Oh man SO so much of it is just practice, and you're not alone! I honestly think everyone struggles with a sort of "generification" of their characters' features the more they draw them, even seasoned professionals. There's a tendency to just sort of average everything out into an unrecognizable mush over time, and it takes a lot of conscious effort to push back against that.

Here are a couple tips and tricks that I've found to be helpful over the years:

Make turnarounds and model sheets. There's a reason animation/game studios do this, and it is because we are all still bad at drawing a consistent face. Despite being gainfully employed. What are we, graphic novelists?? We wish. Anyway it's a great way to familiarize yourself with your character's face from multiple angles, and it gives you a single source of truth to return to anytime you need a refresher:

Gather real-life reference. Anytime I'm designing a character I'm pulling together a ton of reference of actual people who look, to some degree, like the character in my head. It's always a collection of analogues, never just a single person, but it can be a great cheat sheet for understanding how your character might move, emote, etc:

Make a 3D model. I know it seems daunting, but with the advent of programs like Blender and Nomad Sculpt it's becoming remarkably more accessible. Heck, even James Gurney was sculpting maquettes out of clay for Dinotopia back in the day! It doesn't have to be particularly detailed—just a sort of proportionate lump will do—but it's another great way to have dynamic reference that you can rotate and light accordingly:

Practice, practice, practice. Make expression sheets for your character! Either right there on the spot, just start drawin' expressions, or you can slowly collect drawings of your character that you like, as you draw them, and compile them all in one place for your own reference. Need to draw your character's head from a weird angle? Maybe you've already drawn it before and you can copy your own homework! Doesn't count as stealing when the call's coming from inside the house 😎

I'd love to pretend there's a magical point where you can just immediately rotate your character's head in your brain like some sort of photorealistic apple in a twitter meme, but a lot of the time it's reference, hard work, and whole lotta repetition. 😐👍🏼

#ask #noodle-soupz #advice #art advice #tutorial #character design

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

#my art #xam rambles #the black brick road of oz #long post #ohsees tag

[1000sunnygo]

Law's artist side isn't talked about enough, so here's a smooth brain ramble.

He prefers abstract arts over realism. Unlike Kid who forms animal or skull figures with metals, Law creates strange 'sculptures' with his victim's bodies/belongings:

And, of course, the tattoos.

I like how all of his tattoos accentuate the shapes of his torso and arms, especially the joints and muscles. Combined they look like a single stylized drawing of human upper torso.

Seen theories that the tribal style could be a lost trend from Flevance (as seen on the arm of a miner in his flashback), but it could just be his personal style. That said, his upper arm's heart tattoos look similar.

(Something that artists probably noticed long ago but I'm only noticing recently: Law's upper arm's tattoos have been simplified over time. There used to be two spiral-like protrusions, but Oda has been omitting them in later arts)

The "DEATH" tattoos have a straightforward message. According to the Law novel, these were his first tattoos.

Speaking of death, ghosts and spirituality have been implicitly a theme for Law, especially during Dressrosa. Doflamingo referred to Law as Cora's 'vengeful ghost'. Law's (cursed) sword Kikoku's name means 'wailings of a restless ghost". Ironically, Law having a hidden name was also a tradition that related to dead people.

The orange jolly roger (red in the sail) could be many things, I think it's a stylized way of drawing the sun.

Sun symbols are everywhere in the One Piece world. Law's lower arm tattoos are different types of 'suns'. Law might've subconsciously carried those symbols from his hometown for their aesthetic appeal.

The tattoos on the back of his hands reminded me of the church lady's cross, which is slightly different from the cross seen at Kuma's church. It's possible that various faiths in One Piece world are interconnected, leading to a prophecy about the sun god and Dawn. Law, at the very least, believes in the will of D and his own fate being tied to a purpose.

The chest tattoo, clearly a tribute to Corazon, could have some elements of catholicism. Kikoku also has crosses all over its sheath. Originally this wasn't my observation, but Law seeing Cora as a sacred being makes a lot of sense.

Carving a heart at the dead center of his chest by creating small wounds - the process itself reminds of Cora doesn't it

The custom-made Dressrosa coat is another tribute to Corazon, but IMHO he designed it specifically for Doflamingo, as a mockery.

A cross and circle like dangling a pistol target for Doflamingo's shooting practice, with a grinning face copied from Doflamingo's own jolly roger, but it's Corazon. Like his brother has returned to face his pistol again. A vengeful ghost indeed

And boy did it work...

Doflamingo shot it until the mark was completely drenched and unrecognizable.

Assuming he draws for all of his clothes himself, here's this masterpiece:

Or maybe it's gifted by his crew mates. Either way, it's adorable.

Since he's a surgeon (and a comic nerd), he should be skilled at drawing human anatomy. How does he draw realistic arts? Does he doodle while taking notes?

We've seen his handwriting in punk hazard arc and it wasn't particularly stylized. Regardless, it'd be nice to take a proper peek at his notebook.

#law's design appreciation #lmao this tag lives on #I miss Law man #if there's any different interpretation please feel free to share them! #one piece #one piece meta #one piece theory #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #mine

[yyunari]

ANTON 01. 🐇﹕ꕤ﹔ FALLING BEHIND

Growing up rather shy, Anton found himself falling behind in the love department. Perhaps all it would take was joining the Glee Club for him to finally make progress in his love life.

⌇＃GENRE ◠﹒glee au + fluff + angst + love at first sight + anton is down bad LMAO＃PAIRING ◠﹒anton lee x fem! reader ＃WARNINGS ◠﹒none?

Anton stared at the white heart imprinted onto his latte. His face was emotionless but if you looked close enough, perhaps you could see the intrigue swirling in his eyes.

Some people would say it’s just a random design. But to Anton, it sort of felt like more than that. It felt like a sign from the universe that love would slap him in the face soon enough.

But how silly was that? He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but hope. After all 18 years of his life with no romantic interactions whatsoever, he felt that he was falling behind. To him, it was upsetting. All his friends had partners at least once in their lives before, so what was wrong with him? What was it about Anton that was so undesirable that he couldn’t get a girlfriend for the life of him?

As Anton stirred the ivory tint of the drink, he frowned. Perhaps he was never meant to be loved. Perhaps his shyness was an indicator that he would never find love.

The more that he thought about it the white foam swirled around the cup until it became to unrecognizable and blended into one large mess.

He then looked up to the man in front of him with a judging expression, and scoffed.

“You want me to what?”

“Join the Glee Club, Anton.” Mr. Jeon pleaded the boy. “We need more guys, and you have a really nice voice.”

The idea made him laugh a bit. Anton? Apart of the Glee Club? Mr. Jeon wanted him to do show choir? He was the quarterback of the football team. If he joined a club that no one respected, especially for guys like him, he would have even lower a chance of getting a girlfriend. He would probably even be shunned by his own teammates.

Besides, performing was a little too much for him. Of course he enjoyed singing, that’s why Mr. Jeon found out he could sing in the first place (he had overheard Anton singing to himself in the shower after football practice). But he could never see himself performing on stage for people to see. Being on the football team gave him some unwanted spotlight, but most of the time he was wearing his football gear so people couldn’t exactly see his face most of the time. If he were to be performing, he would have to dress up and have bright lights shining down on him.

It made him too nauseous to think about.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jeon, but I don’t think I would be able to…” Anton started. “With football and everything.”

Mr. Jeon handed him a piece of paper. “Don’t worry, I took the liberty of making sure rehearsals didn’t clash with your football practices. I also asked your coach if it was alright that I scouted you, and he gave me the green light.”

The man was right. Every rehearsal from then until the end of the year was perfectly planned so that he would have enough time to do both. It was quite scary, actually. Perhaps Mr. Jeon was scarier than he had let on.

“I don’t want to force you to do it if you really don’t want to,” Mr Jeon continued. “But please think about it. We have a lot of fun in rehearsals and I think you would get along with everyone! I know you love singing, and I think Glee would really help you showcase your abilities.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think people would see me the same way if I joined a club like Glee.” Anton wasn’t one to lie, and he wasn’t sure if the teacher was aware of how the general student population viewed Glee.

Mr. Jeon chuckled at what he said. “I know that Glee isn’t generally seen in a positive light to you guys, but I don’t think that should matter.”
“What do you mean?” Anton asked, curious to what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you come to our next rehearsal?” Mr Jeon said. “When you see these kids sing, I think you’ll change your mind.”

Anton didn’t doubt that they were talented, but he wasn’t sure how seeing them sing could make him change his mind. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you detention if you don’t.”

What Anton forgot was that at the end of the day, Mr. Jeon still had a position of power over him.

Room 201.

Anton stared at the instructions that Mr. Jeon had sent to him, and sighed. He really didn’t want to watch Glee practice. However, his need to not get detention was much higher. It would put a stain on his perfect record, and he didn’t need that.

Begrudgingly, he begun to make his way towards the room. The time read 3:25 which gave him 5 minutes to get to the room before he was late.

Anton discreetly walked over to Room 201 while avoiding the stares of his teammates, as he knew they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Perhaps he cared a little too much of what the people around him thought.

But with his shy persona, he really didn’t want to be shunned from his friends. He didn’t want girls to judge him. He had enough time talking to people as it was, he didn’t need that extra judgement.

Anton didn’t care about being popular or having a lot of friends. He just wanted to have people by his side.

As he neared the Glee room, he contemplated on just turning back and taking the detention. After all, one infraction on his record couldn’t be too bad right? Especially after so long of getting perfect grades and perfect attendance, as well as his status of the quarterback. Colleges would be able to look past one measly detention.

He really didn’t want to go there.

“Kiss today, goodbye. The sweetness and the sorrow.”

…

What was that voice?

Who was it?

“Wish me luck the same to you.”

Once Anton was by the door, he could hear the voice more clearly.

“But I won’t regret, what I did for love. What I did for love.”

He peered through the glass to see just who was singing, and his jaw dropped.

“Look my eyes are dry”

Y/N L/N.

He had always heard that name uttered throughout the hallways and ridiculed by his football teammates. Oftentimes, people would describe her as annoying, stuck up, and ugly. Girls would laugh at her put together appearance and guys would make fun of her body shape. Although Anton never saw anything inherently wrong with the girl, the entire student body was under the impression was that she was the devil.

“The gift was ours to borrow.”

One thing that everyone knew about Y/N, and was a fact even she would agree upon, was that the girl was a born performer. She made it abundantly clear that her dreams were to become a Broadway performer, and that she would stop at nothing to reach that goal.

There was one occasion during French class that he shared with her that Y/N got into an argument with the teacher because she wanted to leave for an audition, and the teacher didn’t let her. In the end, Y/N ended up storming out of the classroom anyways.

At the time, Anton thought it amusing.

“Oh it’s as if we always knew, and I won’t forget.”

Anton had read once on Y/N’s blog that she was immediately trained to sing from the moment she was born and put into acting classes. So he knew that she had talent.

“What I did for love, what I did for love.”

But as Anton stared at Y/N, who stood alone practicing in the empty rehearsal room, he felt something ignite inside him.

Despite knowing that the girl had the talent, he never actually saw her singing. She wasn’t just good at singing in the way that people were usually good at singing.

Y/N’s voice could only be described as one dipped in honey. It was too sweet to be real, and Anton even pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Gone, love is never gone.”

It was weird. Before that point, Y/N was never someone he would think about. In fact, she only ever crossed his mind if she was forced there. Even if she had passed by him in the hallways, he would barely give her a second glance.

Seeing her in such a state, with the light perfectly reflecting off of the windows and casting an angelic aura onto her face, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“As we travel on, love’s what we’ll remember.”

Something that Anton was sure of, once seeing Y/N in her true element, was that Y/N L/N wasn’t just a born performer.

She was born to be a star.

He couldn’t help but wonder, maybe one day he could have that same level of confidence that Y/N had.

The way she carried herself with such grace and assertiveness attracted him. Anton was the complete opposite. He was shy, lanky, and often slouched down on himself.

But Y/N wasn’t like that. She knew her worth, and didn’t back down from anything.

Anton continued to listen to Y/N sing her song, with stars in his eyes and his mouth left slightly agape.

He wasn’t sure of the feeling that he felt in his heart, but he did know one thing.

Anton wanted to be apart of Y/N’s life. He wanted to hear her angelic voice, and see her beautiful face everyday. He wanted to be apart of her world because he found it quite wonderful.
A girl shunned by the entire school, often discredited and regarded as undesirable, who was made to be apart of something more.

Anton wanted to know more about her.

“Great job, Y/N! I didn’t want to interrupt so I waited outside the room.” Mr. Jeon had walked into the room from the door on the opposite end of where Anton was. “You sound amazing, as always. I definitely chose right when I chose to give you the solo.”

Anton could see Y/N get smirk at the compliment. “I knew you would come to your senses. This song is perfect for my voice, after all.”

To most, she would come off as cocky and unbearable. And to most she was.

But for Anton, he saw it in a different way. Most people were just too insecure about themselves to be able to admit when they’re good at something. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. However, Y/N knew that she was talented enough to become something. There was nothing wrong in vocalizing that.

And Anton admired that aspect of Y/N.

“The others should be coming soon. I assume they’re all getting a quick snack since I moved the rehearsal time.”

So that’s why Y/N was practicing alone. Anton wondered why no one was there despite it being well past 3:30.

That face made Anton more attracted to her. Y/N already knew she was good enough to get any part, yet she still took time to herself to practice. And she practiced well.

A burning desire filled Anton’s heart as he pushed open the door.

“Oh, Anton! You’re a bit early. I for-“

“I want to join Glee.” Anton rushed his words, before he could chicken out. And suddenly, he turned his head and made eye contact with Y/N. He could feel all his confidence drain in that moment, as she kept her stare on him as if she were judging him. Anton forgot his tendency to be shy. “I-If the offer is still standing, I mean.”

Mr. Jeon clapped his hands once. “That’s great news! What made you change your mind?”

Anton kept his eyes on Y/N, who was also waiting for his answer.

There were multiple reasons he could think of, but one reason stood out amongst the others.

“I saw an angel.” Was all Anton could admit.

He sounded crazy, and neither Y/N nor Mr. Jeon could figure out what he was talking about, but that didn’t matter. Both were just glad there would be another guy in Glee.

“Well, we need another male lead for one of our performances so you and Y/N can lead ‘No Air’ together.” Mr. Jeon instructed. “Does that work for you?”

Y/N slowly made her way to Anton, and he felt the air in his lungs phase out.

“I don’t know, will you be able to keep up with me? I’m kind of difficult.” She challenged.

Anton mustered up what little confidence he had left in his body, and leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I like difficult.”

Anton was falling behind in the love department, and he needed to catch up. Maybe the latte design from the day before was a sign that he would fall in love. It had seemed to coincidental to not be true.

After crossing Y/N’s path in such a way, he knew that he would have to pursue her as much as he could. He had never fallen for someone so strongly before. But he knew that Y/N was the one he had been waiting for.

In a way, they were sort of one in the same. Both seemingly too undesirable to get into relationships. That idea comforted him.

Anton was falling behind, but for Y/N he would put all of his effort to catch up. Even if it meant disregarding his social status or mockery from his friends.

Y/N was worth the effort.

authors note. first riize fic!!! i love riize sm and anton is soooooo falling behind coded ugh i adore him also yay glee

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kivrio @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

#riize x reader #anton x reader #anton lee #riize x you #riize x imagine #riize anton #riize fluff #anton fluff #lee anton #anton riize #riize imagines #riize #riize oneshots

[ohhnorr]

Genshin impact is so painful now

I love this game to death, the open world and its lore, the dragons, the gameplay, and the land of liyue reeled me in. And ofc Kaeya was one of the major reasons I started playing. I've been playing the game like maybe a month since it was released. So, like the launch era (yes I take pride in that it was the best era).

Mondstadt was an amazing introduction, to the familiar buildings of Germany. And the beautiful design of the culture mixed with the signature of genshin's design made the characters brilliant. Now the first story event (reconciling stars??) made me heavily excited about all the lore that was hidden ingame.

When I got to liyue I was glued to the game, forever, I thought. This was china from a whole nother perspective for me as a Moroccan. And to see such an elegant (not heavily sexualized) character like Ninguang in that cutscene. Yo, I fell in love. Childe was cute too, but then the man that got me everything or anything related to excitement and admiration came upon us. Zhongli. Oh, he was the package, with a beautiful outfit reminding u of the Chinese culture as it has its own modern genshin signature twist. Stunning. It's such characters that get me obsessed with games. Next to all of the intricate details and lore plus gameplay.

To finish off, Inazuma. That was one beautiful region, from the flora to the architecture. The temples and that beautiful quest. Ayaka's design is by far one of my favourites. Her design has her culture written all over it and it's beautiful. In Inazuma, we have so many characters inspired by their Japanese ancestry and it looks stunning and recognizable.

But then the sumeru leaks dwindled along. I was super excited for sumeru, that was my downfall.

After seeing these 3 beautifully represented cultures i was so naïvely excited for Sumeru. And thats expected right, i was rightfully excited to see the beautiful culture of the middle east, north africa and SEA being equally represented like the other three.

But thats when i heard al haitham an important arab figure whose name is now being occupied by a white buff tech man with a fandom who couldnt even pronounce his name right and call him habibi ?

ATTENTION: REPRESENTING. SWANA

Unrecognizable. In no way was the representation of Sumeru as intricately thought out as with the other regions. We have been colorised, orientalized and sexualized once again.

I'm gonna start with the one hurting me the most, Dehya.

(Listen i only heard her name and i was so excited to see my culture in this game i was jumping and ecstatic to see representation--- wait she is a cat girl warrior tf)

Dehya's name is inspired by Dihya, the name of an Amazigh Algerian military queen (Kahena). So quite a name to live up to. The Imazighen (us North Africans) barely get any representation as it is. And when we do, we become drawn out as barbarians or savages (for example another "name" for us is Berbers which the Romans called us).

Now what does Dehya look like huh? Yes indeed she has been revealed to be some warrior cat with an wild and savage look. And as an amazigh i hoped to see at least a little of our beautiful culture respresented. Yet i didint recognize any cultural aspects in comparison to litteraly any character in this game.

While we actually wear alot of beautiful jewelry! And we also have beautiful tribal tattoos, and Dihya herself is such a stunning figure to take refrence from.

But instead we get practically nothing. So we are now standing up for her. And yet there are people complaining against us saying that sexualization happens to every character. But Dehya is litteraly oversexualized on such a level that no cultural aspect is recognizable nor a point of interest.

Look im aware of the sexualization of female characters in games especially in gacha's. And its mostly the reason why i dont play alot of them. Yet in genshin its more mild and the design still upholds cultural aspects. Like with Inazuman characters; https://www.reddit.com/r/Genshin_Impact/comments/o7eifv/inazuma_characters_design_analysis_spoilers_for/

And alot of Liyue characters;

This is why i ask of the bare minimum. To analyze and take interest in the amazigh culture. So Dehya's design could be oh so much more elevated and still badass. Because we as well would love to see a badass cat warrior with actual amazigh tattoos, clothes and jewelry.

Unfortunatly she isint the only problematic character.

Nilou, is an Persian dancer. Whilst having culturally accurate horns from the Sassanian period and a burst move from the gorgeous Persian dance. She has still been sexualized and orientalized. Dancers have always had their stomachs covered. Its culture, it's beautiful. By exposing the belly it's unrecognizable as Persian and becomes mixed with the Arab belly dancing outfit. If they want to sexualise her that badly then exposing the belly is the worst move- it erases the culture, it mixes with another culture, it sexualizes and orientalizes. It becomes a problem.

(Cr: demonscallme on twitter)

Tighnari, an amazigh name supposedly Moroccan. With ears from the fennec an animal from the western desert. Other than that his outfit and design is all over the place. In genshin they are more than capable of making modern day clothing mix with cultural themes. Yet this is not working at all. Nothing is recognizable nor representative of anything amazigh nor arab. Its just a jumbled mess. Disappointing in comparison to the modern clothing and cultural mixture of design with for example zhongli.

Dori is the worst of all the characters. She is orientalized and sexualized. No one encounters representation except seeing a  fucking joke. She has no cultural aspects that are recognizable instead she is the spitting image of an orientalized character. They have a huge region and countries with countless cultures to take interest in. Yet they went with none and followed stereotypes. Her clothing is also grossly sexualized for a child model. It's disappointing how we are being spat on, our cultures are being treated like a joke.

Now a major argument against anything related to the word orientalism had been "it's fictional".

Stereotyping and racism are stated under orientalism. When we say it's racist, stereotyped, and so orientalized it is wrong, it should not be spread around as if it's nothing. It hurts to see and it's disrespectful. So we SWANA deserve just like the german, Chinese and Japanese to be respected and upheld with the same input into our designated region. This game isin't so fictional anymore.

Colourism, all characters until now are pale. Not denying it. We have in the swana region, people of all colours. If u are gonna represent characters from that region we expect different skin tones. To be recognizing oneself is an amazing experience. And it would be representing swana perfectly. It does not hurt it only embraces. That's why we are speaking up about this. Look I'm willing to wait, to take this back, the moment we get a broad set of people from different skin colours. Its not hard to do, it does not contradict anything. So why are people still pressed? Aren't we supposed to break free from the stupid standard of the pale is elevated. There are white Arabs yes, I'm not saying we can't have any pale characters. But with a region as broad as the swana region. There are bound to be some different skin tones and that should not be ignored.

To conclude,

we want to have equal input into our region as there has been done with the previous three. We want people to see our beautiful cultures. And above all, we want to be respected. Yes, we cannot have everything, but it does not hurt to try. It does not hurt to speak out. And you who are against this notion, you are not achieving freemogems out of this. You are not changing our minds. You are not the only one in the world. Broaden your perspectives. For the sake of an exceptional game.

#genshin impact #genshin impact inazuma #genshin #genshin impact liyue #genshin impact leaks #sumeru #genshin leaks #genshin impact sumeru #sumeru leaks #genshin impact dehya #dehya #genshin impact haitham #al haitham #Tighnari #Dori #Nilou #Collei #genshin sumeru

[vansmaybeonthewall]

reputation // i did something bad

chapter summary: The one where your plan comes to life after a series of events that fueled the fire.

Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader

the support you have shown for this is truly amazing. ily all, i hope you enjoy! i almost accidentally deleted it all before posting

word count: 4.3k

previous chapter next chapter

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The spotlight was on you, a familiar yet unwanted feeling. News headlines questioned your ability to hold a crowd that big and there was not one positive thing to combat them. Even the almighty Rupert and his sidekick Derek forgot how small you were compared to other artists. It was almost as if they wanted you to fail despite wanting to take a win from Rebecca Welton. It also was a surprise to see the size of the stage and the number of light fixtures fixed to it. Even dancers who seemed to be warming up? You made your way to the stage from the tunnel, crew milling about preparing the finishing touches. Derek spotted you in your confused state and jogged over to you. 

“Amazing isn’t it? Jasmine had the bright idea to have a full stage with room for choreography. She even got some designers to agree to make these long flowy dresses to match your “vibe”.”

“My vibe?”

“Yeah, you know, the way your songs sound and the meanings, all that. She’s gotten a choreographer already planning out your movements. She has a hairstylist and a makeup artist waiting for you already to practice the look they have picked out. Oh this is so exciting! Come on!”

“Wait, Derek!”

But he has already rushed off, jogging back across the field. There was no choice but to follow him which somehow led you to be sitting in a makeup chair with two strangers attacking your hair and face. It was awkward and the silence was excruciatingly painful. Both stylists had made it quite clear they weren’t amused or happy to be working with you. You were left alone in your makeshift wardrobe area looking at an unrecognizable figure in the mirror. Your hair didn’t suit your face and the makeup distorted what you knew to be yourself. The dress, the most beautiful shade of purple, wasn’t what you had planned for the event. In fact, none of this was what you had planned. You would have been content with a small stage and your guitar. It didn’t need to be this difficult. 

This wasn’t you. Not in this moment of time. While you reveled in the beauty of your songs and the meanings you so delicately handcrafted, this wasn’t how they were supposed to be showcased. Of course, the opportunity to perform in front of hundreds of people was a dream, but it was to good to be true. A small percentage, if any, would know the lyrics to your songs. It didn’t seem-

“Knock knock!”

Jasmine pokes her head through the doorway, a radiant smile on her face.

“Oh, you look absolutely gorgeous! Are you ready for it?”

“For what exactly?”

“To go over the setlist! I know they were still making changes, but they should be done by now. We need a rehearsal today and to schedule a few more before the match in a few days, which may have to be every day for a couple of hours at the rate we’re going.”

“The setlist is already being done? Don’t I get a say in it?”

Jasmine frowns slightly, her demeanor shifting.

“Derek thought it would be best to pick certain songs and leave out others. He thought you might pick some not fit for the purpose of the show.”

Right. The show wasn’t completely for you, it only involved you in some plan on getting sweet revenge on Rebecca Welton on Rupert’s behalf.

“He said that?”

“Well, yes and no. Think of it like this.”

She places her hands on your arms in an attempt to comfort you.

“You have someone looking out for you making sure you don’t make any more mistakes. It’s sweet. Now let’s get going. I’ll give you five more minutes to yourself.”

Jasmine leaves the room shutting the door behind her. Her words left you dumbfounded. First, you had no say in the songs you’d sing and second, she said Derek was there to help you make no more mistakes. You had no idea if she was being genuine or if she was deliberately trying to hurt you. You shook the thoughts from your head, heading out towards the field. 

As you walked across the field, you spotted instruments being set up on stage. It gave some sort of relief that you would play your own, but that was soon taken away. Derek was giving people papers and orders of where to go. The instrumentals of your songs soon flooded your ears. Carefully, you climbed up onto the stage and approached Derek. He spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“You made it! You look exactly how we pictured you should, this is perfect! You have to meet the band and-”

“The band?”

Derek gives you a strange look.

“The band that’s going to be playing for you. Did you think you would be playing yourself?”

“I always have, you know that.”

“Yes, but we wanted to make you seem like a bigger artist than you are. We need to let Richmond know we are better than them in every possible way. Rupert is going to come by for a rehearsal and speaking of which, you need the setlist.”

You started to ask a question be he quickly shot you down.

“(Y/N), you don’t really have a say in the songs. What you have in mind doesn’t fit.”

“How do you know what I have in mind, Derek?”

“Come on, we’ve been dating for two years, you think I don’t know you?”

At the call of his name, Derek excused himself from the conversation leaving you in the center of the stage. It was like a stab to the heart. None of this performance was about you, it was everybody else’s. And yet you still followed whatever you were told to do. 

~

Two days before the match

“August slipped away into a moment of time

‘Cause it was never mine”

“Cut! Cut, cut, cut!”

Mid-song you were cut off, yet again. It was a cycle repeated every few minutes.

“The choreography isn’t right, weren’t you told to do what you normally do when you perform this song?”

“And I have told you time after time, I play my guitar every time I sing this song. But you’re not listening to me.”

“Darling, I was hired as creative director of this halftime performance, you do as I say or I blacklist you from future performances. Which doesn’t seem possible at the moment with your attitude.”

You seeth in silent anger. You push through the entire rehearsal, eager to leave the stadium. And when you finally get back to wardrobe to change back, the day somehow gets worse. You exit the building and make your way to the parking lot to wait for Derek. The constant dinging of your phone in your bag breaks you out of your trance. You dig through your bag and find Twitter to be the culprit of the noise. And boy was it a shock.

Multiple news accounts tweeted articles and comments about your appearance at the West Ham v. Richmond game. But what caught your eye was the A.F.C. Richmond account tagging your username. You click on the tweet to find a clip of a recent press conference with the tweet reading “Real men support their besties”.

You press play and find yourself listening to Colin answering questions. 

“And what do you think of (Y/N) (L/N)’s upcoming performance as a halftime entertainer?”

“(Y/N) is a talented artist. She has come so far and I’m happy to see her fulfilling one of her goals.”

“Even if a larger audience doesn’t approve of her choices in her music career?”

You see Colin straighten up.

“For as long as I’ve had the pleasure of knowing (Y/N), she does everything for a reason. Even if it may seem “outlandish” or “stupid” to critics like you, she puts her whole heart into it for the one person who will love and cherish her work to the very end. I look forward to our match against West Ham, not just for a win, but to see my best friend do the one thing she has dreamed of doing since she was a kid.”

A bittersweet smile made its way to your face. You and Colin hadn’t spoken for a while, with his matches and you following Derek as he requested. Maybe you should send him a message? Colin, however, beats you to it. You don’t have a chance to read it as a hand snatches your phone out of your grip. Derek comes into view and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello hello, is (Y/N) here? She didn’t hear me calling her name.”

“Jesus Derek, what the fuck.”

“You weren’t listening, I had to do something.”

He pulls the phone from his ear and moves to hand it back to you, but he catches a glimpse of the screen.

“Why is he texting you? I thought I said you couldn’t.”

You try to take your phone back from his grasp but Derek holds it higher in the air.

“He’s my best friend, I can’t just ignore him.”

“And I’m your boyfriend, I think I know what’s best for you.”

“Derek, please-”

He grabs your wrist tightly and sharply pulls it back down. You visibly wince at the sudden pain.

“I’m your boyfriend, you don’t need anyone else protecting you or saying thighs to defend you, I do that. That’s my job, alright?”

You don’t answer. At your silence, Derek jerks your arm.

“Alright?

You quickly nod. Derek lets go of your arm. Seeing tears about to fall from your eyes, he hugs you tightly. He places your phone into your back pocket before letting go of you. He kisses your cheek.

“I only do what’s best for you, you know that. Now I have to go meet with Rupert and Jasmine to discuss final additions to the show. And maybe when I get home, we can celebrate”

Derek looks at you with a smirk on his face before walking away, leaving you frozen by yourself without a ride home. You carefully rub your wrist, already feeling the ugly marks that would soon stain your skin. In fear of speaking to anyone and of meeting Derek at home, you start the long trek back, taking the long way home.

~

One day before the match

You had been silent for the last rehearsal. To get through the day faster, you chose not to voice any differences or concerns you had about your performance. You didn’t even have the courage to respond to Colin’s text much less open it. You were heading down the long hallway from your wardrobe room when you caught giggles and whispers of a heated conversation. But what really caught your attention was the mention of your name. You stop at the corner and lean against the wall. You take a peak to find Derek pinning Jasmine against the wall, face pressed into her neck. Her giggles turn into soft moans as Derek’s hands slide down her body. You place your back against the wall and slide down, hitting the floor with a small thump. 

You knew they were sneaking around. You saw the little glances and the comments they made towards the other. Even the time they kissed as an elevator closed, hiding the affair within. But never would you have imagined them being this bold. It was an ugly feeling, a nausous bugs crawling on your skin type of feeling. How could you have let this go on for so long? How could you have been with him for so long? How could you tolerate it? It was then in that moment that you made the decision to make this show about you. Not revenge on Ms. Welton, not to make West Ham look good, and definitely not to make Derek look good. It was going to end, all of it. 

You stood up from your spot and marched back to your dressing room. You snatched your phone from the vanity and found Colin’s contact. The message you never read glared at you.

Don’t let anything they say get to you, they don’t know you. You know you. Don’t let anyone make you forget that.

You press the call button. The call is picked up after the first ring. 

“Do you want to help me do something stupid?”

~

Day of the match

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The purple dress hid any indication of another outfit underneath. The bold choice of a red lip and your cat-eye eyeliner made you feel like…yourself. It was what you felt in the moment and having the decision to do it was truly an amazing thing. Getting to the stage was no big deal, you and Colin had created a foolproof plan of getting you there, which involved you being wheeled in a “cleaning cart” to underneath the stage where you would rise up as planned. 

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey babes, they’re ready for you if you are.”

You turn to the small TV in the corner of the room playing the match. There was only a few minutes until halftime. You open the door to see Keeley Jones.

“Let’s hope they’re ready for it.”

Being underneath the stage was surreal. Even if it was meant to be put up and torn apart within a short period of time, it was so elaborate. Workers milled about and the surprisingly loud chanting of your name filled the space. You quickly took off the dress revealing your outfit underneath. Pulling on the knee length boots, you grabbed a plain black microphone out of a box. Some of the dancers looked at you in confusion and anger, still dressed in flowy dresses. Those that agreed to your change in plans were dressed in black with microphones in hand. You took your place in the center of the lowered stage piece. The lights dimmed.

“And now, for your entertainment, the artist behind the delicate Folklore and Evermore, (Y/N) (L/N)!”

At the mention of your name, a glitch sound was heard. All fell silent before-

“Baby let the games begin”

The band takes off playing your song as you rise up, head lowered. As you are lifted onto the stage, the lights go red.

“Are you ready for it?”

Lights flash on you. Your black bodysuit sparkles in the spotlight. The crowd goes wild for you despite knowing none of the lyrics or meaning of all this. Your dancers and back up singers join you on stage, bringing the choreography you learned in secret to life. And when the moment came for the high note, you basked in the audience’s shouting of the lyrics as they learned the longer the song went on. The song came to an end, but this was only the beginning. At center stage, you unzipped the hoodie piece of your suit before continuing the set. Your look dramatically into the crowd, hoping your lyrics and fake laugh reached Derek’s pathetic little heart. 

“If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing”

You hear cheers and screams coming from the girls and women in the crowd. You smirk, making sure this performance was as powerful for them as much as it was for you. The moment you get lifted into the air by your dancers felt like what it meant to be a phoenix rising from the ashes. If it was at all possible, the crowd seemed to be even louder as you finished, smiling and laughing at their reaction. The lights went out, allowing you to see the benches both teams sat at. You could see Derek arguing with Rupert, and Jasmine trying to mediate the two. It was far from over. The sounds of your next song started playing, and this one? The audience knew.

“Cause baby we got bad blood”

The singing grew louder as the stadium filled with screeches and yelling. The sound of a banjo mixing with pop music sent them into an absolute frenzy. You were bringing back your old songs, songs that haven’t been heard in years. 

“Should’ve said no”

You fell off the stage, your dancers catching you.

“Should’ve gone home”

You start running to the Richmond bench where you meet Colin with the handshake you made up when you were kids. As you start singing again, you start dancing wildly together. Cameramen follow your movements to display on the screens. While the coaches and other players seemed confused at the start, they hop in on the fun. You stay for a moment before walking towards the West Ham bench. Colin runs off grabbing a box.

“Shouldn’t be asking myself why”

You close in on Derek, pushing yourself into his face as he tries to back up. 

“You should’ve said no, baby and you might still have me”

You lean back dropping the microphone onto the floor near his feet. Colin appears next to you with a microphone sparkling with red glitter. You make your way back to the stage, but never back on it. You finish your performance on the grass. And as soon as it ends, Colin comes running, picking you up and spinning around in circles. The crowd chants your name. Colin sets you down. You bring the mic back to your face. 

“It has been an absolute pleasure to perform for you today London Stadium, but I do have some unfortunate news for you.”

You paused. All eyes were on you. Derek, although hiding from embarrassment, was staring at you with worry. Not for you, but for himself.

“I resign from my position on the West Ham United team as an entertainer and as an assistant. I will no longer be affiliated or used as a figure to represent this club, but rather another.”

Colin tilts his head in confusion. That last part wasn’t part of the plan. You look at Derek and Rupert as you speak your last sentence. 

“From now on, I will be working closely with A.F.C Richmond through their season not only to support their endeavours, but to finish my upcoming album reputation!”

With that, you turn and run towards the tunnel, waving at fans until you’re hidden away. You continue running until you find the locker room Richmond occupied for the match. You shut the door and lean against it for a second. You place the mic down on a bench before running your hands through your hair in disbelief. Being alone was shortlived as Colin burst through the door. He hugs you tightly, but keeps a hold of you when he pulls away. 

“When you said stupid, I didn’t think you meant this stupid.”

“Me neither, it just came out.”

The two of you embrace each other once again. An idea comes to mind. You let go of Colin.

“You have an extra jersey in your bag right?”

“Always.”

“Want to make it even worse?” 

The rest of the team along with the coaches file into the locker room. At the sight of Colin and you, they quiet down. Coach Lasso, the bright soul, comes forward. 

“Well I must say, that was a mighty brave thing you did out there Ms. (L/N). Wonderful performance too, you’ve come a long way from country.”

You were in shock. 

“You knew me from when I did country?”

“Of course I do! Everybody should, I was happy to hear that banjo and slight country twang in your voice. Reminded me of home”

You smiled sweetly at him. You were about to respond, but the sound of heels interrupted. Everybody turned their heads to the locker room entrance to find Keeley and Rebecca Welton. 

“Let’s wrap it up boys, we’ll do a talk and walk while we wait.”

Colin squeezes your shoulder before following his team. When they all vacated the room, Keeley came bounding to you. 

“That was fantastic babe! Absolutely spectacular.”

“It couldn’t have been done without you, Ms. Jones.”

She responded to your tease with a light punch to your arm. 

“(Y/N), this is Rebecca, Rebecca (Y/N).”

It was then you realized what you said on the field. You bring your hands up to cover your mouth.

“Ms.Welton! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to blab, I just needed-”

Rebecca holds up a hand.

“There’s no need to apologize, I understand.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do, half the things I’ve done were done to try and hurt someone else. In fact, I must say I’m proud you had to courage to do that in front of so many people. Which brings me to this.”

You look between her and Keeley, who was trying to hide the biggest smile on her face. 

“If you wish to make what you said out there real, we’d be happy to have you.”

Keeley starts bouncing on her feet. Your mouth opens in shock.

“You’d want me?”

“You have quite the talent, and I’d hate to see you lose it because of…certain people.”

“Ms. Welton-”

“Rebecca.”

“Thank you Rebecca, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. Save it for when you finish writing.”

Rebecca smiles at you before extending her hand out to you. However, you take the opportunity to hug her, taking her by surprise. She returns the gesture. Keeley claps her hands together.

“Now why don’t we watch our boys beat the absolute shit out of your exes.”

You return to the field with Colin’s backup jersey over your bodysuit. Rebecca and Keeley headed to their seats, but you took the opportunity to cheer for your best friend in a place Derek would hear. As fans spotted you walking toward the Richmond bench, they cheered. 

“I spy with my little eye, a country gal making her way to the rodeo.”

You smile at Coach Lasso’s commentary. To appease him, you speak with a slight country twang.

“It ain’t a rodeo without a cowboy Coach Lasso.”

“Please, call me Ted.”

You shake hands as well as the other coaches before turning to the field where the play has resumed. You see Colin attempting to run from his attackers before he is tripped. Whistles blow, and some boos can be heard from the Richmond fans. Colin gets up slowly. You see the trio of coaches make the decision to pull him out. As Colin sits down on the bench. You crouch as Colin rubs his ankle.

“What happened?”

“Got me on purpose and made it look like a wee little accident.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault (Y/N).”

“But if I hadn’t done-”

“If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t be here wearing my jersey with knee-high boots.”

You smile at each other. 

“Come on, let’s watch them avenge me.”

The game could have gone better as it ended with a tie. But boy did it feel good to cheer and yell with Colin. Despite his slightly injured ankle, Colin picked you up and carried you to the huddle to celebrate their draw. They file into the locker room and gather their belongings. As you all file out of the locker room, you just remember that your stuff sits in the home-side part of the stadium.

“Shit.”

“What’s happened?”

You look at Colin with a troubled look on your face.

“My stuff. It’s in the dressing room My phone, my bag, my clothes.”

You won’t have to worry about any of that anymore as Derek storms down the hall with your bag in hand. He shouts your name and throws your belongings at you. The bag slides across the floor. You take a step back as he gets closer.

“I always knew you were stupid, but the shit you pulled today? You put the icing on the fuckin cake.”

Derek stands in front of you, breathing heavily. Another pair of footsteps comes quickly, Jasmine’s figure appearing. 

“Derek!”

“Maybe you should listen to her, Derek. She always has such great things to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I know about your sneaking around and the marks on your goddamn necks! Did you really think I wouldn’t know? I thought you would have some sort of decency to try and hide it, but you made it known to everybody but me! You’re mad I embarrassed you in front of people who “love” and “support” you? Good! Maybe people will see who you really are. A liar, a cheat, and a terrible coach.”

Derek raised his hand, but before it made contact with your face, a hand caught him by the wrist. You turned to see not Colin? A hand pulled you backward as the person stepped in front of you. A jersey with the number nine blocked Derek from your view.

“Wouldn’t want to cause a fuss would you mate? Not with the cameras.”

You hear Colin whispering in your ear as he pulls you to walk with him. You stare at the player wearing the number nine and Derek in a standoff. You want to see how the moment plays out but the next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bus with the rest of the Richmond team. All you can do is stare into blank space as before a hand invades your vision. You see number nine with your bag in your hand.

“I think this belongs to you, darling.”

You take the bag from his grasp, thanking him. He smiles at you before walking towards the front of the bus for a seat. You could finally relax. The bus takes off back to Nelson Road, the drive calming you down. A constant buzzing from your bag pulled you from your trance. Your phone. You dig through your bag to find Twitter once again popping off. Except this time, it was photos of you being carried by Colin with the team. There were pictures and clips of you performing. Fans tweeted how much they loved you while others would make a great episode of Thirst Tweets. You shut the phone off and leaned your head back on the seat.

Maybe some would think you did something bad, but god did it feel so good.

-------------------------------------------

taglist: @luna025 @faith-alons26 @yokolesbianism

want to be tagged? let me know!

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt oneshot #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #afc richmond #taylor swift #taylor swift reputation

[charmixpower]

Types of Winx Redesigns:

"I love it, but make it modern."

"Holy shit how fucking short are their skirts??? I—um. No. Put on some pants right now."

"I'm going to add MORE crop tops and mini skirts and literally no one can stop me."

"YOU WISH YOU WE'RE ME." *creates a design with all their unpopular opinions in it* "DIE MAD."

"It's alien time baybee."

"On fucking god I am going to get you bitches some diverse body types."

"if I don't shove as much detail into this design as physically possible I'm literally going to die."

"MORE DRAGON-Y THINGS ON BLOOM!! MORE SUN AND MOON ON STELLA!! FLORA NEEDS MORE LEAVES!!!!!."

"I am going to make a transform design that is so combat practical."

"Lol, yeah, but what if I just." *Redesigns a character to the point they're completely unrecognizable*

#winx club #rus chatters #winx redesign

[cannibalcaprine]

Consuming a mech pilot is such an, interesting, experience, such a pity that few get to try it. You're standing in the hangar bay, watching the burned and bullet-riddled machine glide down the bay track. Some of the mech's scorch marks are self-inflicted; this is a highly specialized mech, thrusters designed to move with grace beyond the limits of human beings--the paint is coated in soot near the booster ports. While the docking stages complete, enormous dripping plugs inserting into various orifices, and massive serrated clamps groping artificial limbs, your eyes glance at rapidly compiling combat data nearby. Ammunition consumed: 87%. Multiple system failures detected, including reactor breach. Highest acceleration measured: 49G. You lick your lips. They're practically cooked already.

You bounce on the balls of your feet as you input an override command and the cockpit seal breaks. A burst of hot mist, the delightful stench of synthetic amniotic fluid mixed with boiled blood causing you to salivate. Even though you've greeted many a decrepit pilot in the hangar, you can't help but giggle at the sight. The cockpits are equipped with microscopic surgery drones, a slurry of regenerative locusts that attempt reconstruction when the pilot inevitably is rendered unrecognizable by combat strain, but it seems one of the various system failures experienced during this sortie involved the drones’ efficiency. The pilot is mostly intact, relatively human-shaped, coherent as they ever are when the seal breaks, but many pieces seem to be unfinished. Tender, supple flesh, still wet with malfunctioning nanotech, hairless with deep burn marks on contact points. Fingers that don’t have nails. The entire right leg appears to have been severed and reattached, but backwards, the knee facing the back of the mount. The eyes are still filled with blood, the drones too damaged to perform repairs to hemorrhages in delicate spaces. The macabre display elevates your appetite. It is only you and the pilot in the lonely hangar, the automated service drones still disassembling the larger components of the mech—the cockpit is not designated to be breached for another twelve minutes, the medical bay drones idling quietly behind many doors. Twelve minutes might as well be twelve hours, for what you and this meal will accomplish.

You push the cockpit wings up, apologizing gently when you see the pilot’s eyes sharply dilate from the harsh hangar lights. It takes a bit of grace to find good footing in the sludge, but you settle down on the pilot’s left thigh, watching them twitch as your weight and warmth pushes against whatever painkillers are still circulating in their system. You savor their realization that the cockpit was forced open. No medical drone is hovering nearby to cart them away, meaning that your presence is unaccounted for, an anomaly that will not be detected. They know of you. Your propensities. Your inclinations. The pilots talk to each other, it is no secret that something like you lurks in the hangar, waiting for them. You keep your eyes on theirs as you untether their left hand from the controls, peeling back tight knuckles from the flight stick like rind from an orange.

     They don’t look distressed, you muse to yourself, pulling in their scent with a sharp breath, their limp hand hovering next to your mouth. Even within the chemical fog, the pilot could show fear, they could activate panic alarms, do something, anything to repel you. But they seem more… curious… than anything else. Here she was, the Hyena of Hanger 9, notorious for picking pilots clean to the bone before the mech had even finished cooling off, and yet…

You sink your teeth into the purlicue, the pilot’s thumb bulging against the inside of your cheek, metacarpals bending generously before you snap them clean with a quick snap of jaws and twist of neck. Even with the flesh having the texture of something that has been stewing in a pot all day, the mouthful forces you to chew a few times, before you greedily swallow, the ten minutes you have left depleting so very fast. You can feel yourself wanting to hesitate, to savor every bite—the combination of flavors so complex, a cornucopia of engineering prowess and medical miracles—but you focus on the task. While a single bite is enough for some to reminisce fondly upon, you have done this for far too long to be satiated with a peck or two. In order to keep the cravings controlled, you must gorge, with ferocity that matches the hunger. In a single minute, you strip the left arm of flesh, your eyes so close to the pilot’s as you snap the wet humerus open and greedily suck the marrow out. The pilot remains motionless during this rending, still observing with what you can only parse as fascination. You straddle the pilot’s lap, undoing the strap on their fractured helmet and carefully unscrewing two cables connecting your meal to part of the mech’s cerebral systems. You smile, bits of flesh visible between your teeth, and slowly scrape one of their cheeks into your maw. They watch you chew, unblinking, their teeth and tongue visible in the hole you have created.

     “Do you want to know why?” You don’t have time to play with your food, but their calm demeanor is overriding your sense of urgency. You pry their right hand away from the mech and suck the meat off two fingers. “They feed you that beige paste. No flavor at all.” You rip two scorched radial muscles out of the wrist, holding them in your mouth for a brief moment, your eyes closed as you enjoy the change in palette. “My generation can still taste. And you—” You twist their head and fit their entire right ear into your mouth, “—Your flavor is divine.” Your jaws snap tight. A thin artery pulls away from the side of their neck as you lean back, like a stray string being pulled out of a sweater. You and the pilot observe the string of blood, suspended between the two of you, dripping, twitching in the floodlights. Their eyes connect to yours once again, and once again you feel an utter lack of hostility. Something stirs below your belly, deep down. Something other than hunger. Before you can stop yourself, your fingers find purchase on the pilot’s chapped lips, pulling the slack mouth open wide, and you press your filthy mouth against theirs.

  The medical drone makes a small tone, the idling engine stalling briefly as it hums into operational RPM range. There are 4 drones total, along with a free-floating intensive care bay to carry the pilot’s mess in. As they approach the mech, already in the midst of repairs and adjustments, the Hyena of Hangar 9 walks past, the severed tongue of the pilot still pressed against the roof of her mouth, savored for another moment before she will have to swallow, carrying on as normal. Days later she will find an encrypted message in the system addressed to her, the only line reading,

“What a gift, to be divine.”

~ @thistoowillpasss

#submission #cannibalism #. . .holy fucking shit #for later #*

[dewsies]

𓇼 • 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 🫧

🫧 • A/N: I love Neuvillette and all, but I can't take his classy, catalyst user self seriously when he releases war cries like he's a claymore user or something. Like sir, order in the court please.

⋆｡˚ Fandom: Genshin Impact

🐚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Featured Character: Neuvillette

🌊.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Pairing: Neuvillette/fem!reader

🦪.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Tags: might be ooc??, not proofread, reader is bold, lil bit of angst sprinkled in, hurt/no comfort

ʚ⁺˖--➤ Synopsis: You decide to give Neuvillette a lovely new nickname. For convenience of course!

ʚ⁺˖--➤ word count: 1.1k words

"It's too long you know," she spoke nonchalantly, informally, glancing at the more reserved chief justice. Now there was someone who completely opposed the woman's personality. It was a fact as clear as Fontaine's waters, a fact that Neuvillette was irked by much more than the woman standing almost impishly in front of him with a smug little smirk on her face. He dared not let his facial react again to her frequent jestful words again. Resisting the urge to sigh, he'd faintly indulge her with eye contact. "Pardon? What is the matter that you are referring to?" He inquires, seemingly unfazed.

A soft hum escaped her lips, eyes lingering on the appearance of the esteemed Chief Justice of Fontaine. "It's your name, Chief," the woman would take a pause at the sound of Neuvillette clicking his tongue, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the small, but enjoyable reaction. "Oh? Do you not like that nickname?" she continued in her practically one-sided banter. "If you must know for the one-hundredth thirty-seventh time, no, I am not fond of that nickname you have consistently designated as my title whenever we converse."

Neuvillette's eyes would narrow at the sound of her light-hearted chuckle, an unsettlingly sweet sound compared to the hassle of a woman it belonged to. "I think a small no would have sufficed."

Even now she stood proud in front of his desk, it was a bit irritable how comfortable she made herself. Her body was leaned up against his furnishing while her index finger gently poked at the papers she was assigned to deliver to him. It should've been a simple exchange, but the poor Chief Justice got lured into one of her most deadly traps...

"I digress, I found that conclusion to be false after fifty." he huffed with what many would take as an annoyance, but he had grown accustomed to her informal mannerisms long before this interaction. Truthfully, it was probably against his better judgment. Unfortunately for him, he had little means of escaping her. Neuvillette had assumed she was some charlatan he could easily disregard, but that wasn't the case, oh no, this woman just had to be high enough in society to weasel her way into a friendship with Furina. What astounds him even more is how well-versed she is with the laws of the land. An intelligent, strategic, conniving smooth talker who's like a barnacle in his back.

Small talk...

It has only been the one-hundredth thirty-seventh time. How does he fall for this so often? "Well then Chief, since it's sooo unsatisfactory, I'll be a good, law-abiding citizen and give you a new one." Before Neuvillette can even configure a rebuttal, he gets caught by curiosity. Patient, silent ice lavender eyes observing her expression, a finger rested on your bottom lip as rhythmic hums of an unrecognizable song fluttered from her lips.

"Ah! I got it!" she exclaimed with a bubbly grin manifesting in her features. Neuvillette almost felt tempted to ask her to reveal his new nickname. The thought would quickly be perished, he knew it would only lead to more teasing that he would be powerless to stop. Her antics have grown irrefutably more tolerable by the day.

The feeling of soft, gentle hands caressing his own nearly jolts the man from his thoughts. His attention was solely focused on her eyes, he almost resembled an expectant child receiving a gift. "Vivi," her voice sounded so warm and so sweet, almost as warm and sweet as the way she looked at him. The sudden change in demeanor was something that made him taken aback.

"Vivi?" he parroted quizzically with near-delighted intrigue. He could have sworn he saw her smile grow at his reaction although it might not have been much if it was anybody else. It seems they both knew that Neuvillette didn't seem to hate this nickname. "That's right, Vivi," and by now their hands began to intertwine, although it was most obviously her who initiated. Perhaps he had gotten caught up in the moment, for Neuvillette held little to no urge to let her hands go. "And why Vivi?" he asks her in a hushed, meek tone eyes glancing down to their entangled hands.

The delicate chuckle that graces his ears seemed much more suited to her at that moment. "Did you know that the meaning of it is correlated to being lively?"

"Are you insinuating that I am lively?" he sounds almost amused when he asks. "You? Why, certainly not. I simply find your company to be lively to my own spirit. You making me lively does not necessarily mean you have to be." she continued on giddily, her thumb lightly rubbing his hand. "What are you implying?" he inquires yet another question causing the woman to grow a fake irked expression. "Oh! you and your questions! We aren't in court you know! Surely, you can come to a verdict as to how I feel about you, yes?"

Neuvillette is quick to process all that his ears audibly witnessed. His gaze is immediately glued onto her once again almost to confirm it all. He'd known her for too long to know for a fact she wasn't lying. Although he still had yet to conclude what he was to say in response. It makes his chest tighten, knowing that she loves him, contemplating the thought that he just might love her back. Neuvillette's lips would part in the hope of saying something back, but he can't. His mouth would soon shut once again as he gazed at her kind yet sickeningly somber expression. The Chief Justice could only watch in silence as she brought his hands up to her precious lips before she planted a single, chaste, feather-like kiss atop his knuckles.

Carefully, he brought her hands up to his forehead, face now more apparent with anguish. "I... want to love you, but you of all people know how important my role is." Her hands were comforting when there was only so much they could do. There was only so much that he could do.

It's a surreal mix of emotions after that; a pristine smile is all he sees before she speaks again, "You don't have to say anything, you don't have to do anything to accommodate how I feel because I love you." How those words stung him, they don't sting half as much as the fact he can't bring himself to say them back. Almost as if he'd be committing a crime to her. What good are those bittersweet words besides feeding into a false hope? The hope that they could love each other unapologetically. How could he of all the divine dare dream of the luxury?

© dewsies - all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, translate or heavily imitate my work or concepts

☆

#neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader #neuvillete x reader #₊˚.༄ dewsies

[ewingstan]

Worm and Costumes, pt. 1

(pt. 2 here!)

I’m really starting to admire how well the costumes in Worm say so much about their characters. You’d obviously want this, since a good superhero/villain costume is always supposed to represent a person well, but this can often get lost due to aesthetic trends or demands for matching outfits or a need to have a level of asthetic cohesion for a group. Worm uses its “no themed teams” rule to let costumes’ symbolic meanings shine, giving us a masterclass in how to use costumes both for blunt metaphor and subtle characterization.

Looking at each of the core Undersiders’ in turn: we have Brian’s motorcyclist outfit, almost unrecognizable as a costume if not for the sculpted skull visor. This makes it feel almost ad-hoc; you could picture Brian starting out his criminal career, not having anything to protect his identity, so just putting on his helmet and calling it a day, modifying it with the skull once he had enough money from jobs. It helps sell how the Undersiders started out as something approaching goons-for-hire, with its leader looking like the souped-up version of the comic book henchman wearing their usual duds plus some clown makeup/animal mask/whatever they need to nominally fit their boss’ theme. At the same time, like Brian, it’s incredibly practical—it protects the head and provides great anonymity while still being intimidating. The way it seeks to intimidate, too: the intense machismo of the outfit, motorcycles and skulls and darkness, all of which is ultimately just hiding him, is really indicative of his specific damage. Grue’s outfit is the most imposing, but it also is the most covering, the most padded, the one that reveals the least of its wearer.

Then we have Tattletale’s domino mask and purple/black skintight bodysuit. Its probably the most stereotypically “comic book”-looking costumes of anyone, just loud and colorful and completely impractical for crime, which works with how much she commits to the cops-and-robbers theory of capedom. The out has very little obvious utility—it doesn’t even seem like it would do a good job at hiding her identity!—but that itself is a statement of confidence. It says “I know you’re not gonna do any lasting damage, and you know I don’t need to get physical to hurt you.” And the seeming failure to protect her civilian identity is misleading: yeah, she only has a domino mask, but its specifically designed to highlight parts of her face to suggest a whole different structure (not to mention her being meticulous about keeping different hair styles for her cape and civilian identity). It’s much like how Lisa’s seeming openness is a steel trap: she’ll delight in giving you all the details, and then you’ll end up blindsided learning “oh she’s only been letting us think she’s a psychic” or “oh Lisa Wilbourn isn’t actually her real name” or “oh she knew about my plan to betray her from the beginning.”

On the other end of the spectrum, we have Rachel’s incredibly minimal costume: just a cheap dog mask from the dollar store bin, worn with her civilian heavy coat and boots. Its brash, its crude, the effect worn together is more a slasher villain look than a supervillain ensemble. Its a nominal costume, less a nod to the rules than a thumbing of the nose towards it, which is appropriate: Rachel has no cape/civilian identity split, what with her identity and background being public knowledge, and she has the least patience for the cops-and-robbers game than any of the Undersiders. If she wasn’t reigned in by Brian and the others, she probably would have been in the birdcage or on a kill list by the story’s start. Its no wonder she doesn’t bother with the mask half the time; she has little understanding and no patience for the unwritten rules of the game they’re all playing. For her, its not a game at all.

In contrast, its clear from Regent’s costume that its all a game to him. He wears the carefree dress of some young prince out of a story book, what with his loose white shirt and silver diadem. His Venetian mask makes it seem like every caper may as well be a trip to the masquerade. It suggests a spoiled demeanor, undue confidence built from a privileged upbringing, while also hinting at a cruel and hedonistic streak often seen in the wealthy and aimless. At the same time, we find out quickly that his costume has a purposefully misleading exterior: his mask is padded, his loose shirt hides a bulletproof vest and his scepter doubles as a taser against the unsuspecting. Jean-Paul himself narrates for us how his tuned-out, playful demeanor lets him hide the more horrifying things he gets up to, and his costume similarly is used to paint over a man with more skin in the game than he lets on, ready and eager to strike out against the unsuspecting.

Most tantalizing for analysis, we have Taylor’s costumes. The way its initially presented (ooh, its grey because I haven’t gotten better dyes yet, I mostly just worked on it in the garage during my free time, I haven’t actually worn it out on patrol or anything) makes it seem slightly dinky and novice-level, and it is—as a hero costume. As a villain costume, it ends up working perfectly. It’s shortcomings as a hero costume just create more opportunities for it to work as a statement for the Warlord of the Boardwalks; just like Taylor’s shortcomings do the same. Her costume is too dour to be light or inspiring, so she uses it to seem inhuman and frightening.  Her powers don’t lend themselves to easy takedowns of her opponents, so she opts instead for ruthless takedowns. Her costume can’t let her mimic the beautiful, statuesque features of heroes, so she leans in the other direction and becomes as unsettling as possible, covering her gangly body in an always-writhing mass. She’s not a great public speaker, so she speaks through her minions, or through a jittering mass of bugs in her vague silhouette, or she gives patient, logical-sounding explanations that make you hate her even as her arguments sit in your head like a tick, growing larger as you feed it your doubt.

The match between appearance and methods only grows once she adopts the Weaver persona. The grey-and-electric blue color palate is supposed to signal her adoption of heroism, and while the color scheme is certainly more approachable and familiar, it also lacks the warmer colors of the old costume’s yellow goggles. And one of the aspects of Weaver that make people want more time devoted to this portion of the story is how despite now working for the “good,” Taylor is at her coldest, holding her new teammates at arms length while working them to the bone. At the same time, she has her fingers in more pies than ever: she is taking on dozens of criminal operations and wearing them down with attrition, confronting new and terrifying endbringers on a much more frequent basis, and trying to line up as many pieces as she can for the prophesied doomsday. What better way to symbolize how much she’s juggling than literally giving her more arms?

And then there are the parts that just scream their meaning at you. How she finds the initial version of the weaver costume ill-fitting and generic. How she now has a beetle emblem facing towards the sky, but it’s actually turned upside-down from its old orientation. How she goes back to the Skitter costume whenever she has something personal to fight for, when the undersiders are with her in the fray. Its great. It’s loud, it has no trace of subtlety, it is yelling what it want’s you to take away. Just like the best costumes do.

(pt. 2 here!)

#worm #wildbow #parahumans #this might be pretty surface-level analysis #but it was fun to write about all the same #leo says #leo reads worm

[myfriendpokey]

Mr Advice

My advice to anyone making their first game is, have a good time :^)

Boy, such horrible advice. Who let this guy in. Yes, it's barely worth saying. But I would like to dig more into it, just the same.

To have a good time making games is to think seriously and critically about your own pleasure. It means trying to keep a space free for that pleasure, resisting the temptation to displace it into other, impressive sounding terms like Improvement and Skill and Quality and Hard Work. Which can be like looking at a magic eye picture - you think you see it, then you blink, and find your eyes have automatically refocused themselves somewhere else, somewhere more solid than the little flickering uncertain spot you were looking for. To the extent your pleasure really is bound up in these things, following it can mean gutting them, or twisting them, into something new and unrecognizable that brings you a little closer to what you want.

Having a good time will also likely mean your games are strange - misshapen, erratic, half-formed, weirdly over- and under-developed at the same time. You will have to mutilate your way through the canon of design. A lot of the things you take for granted about the form will turn out to be boring, or hard to implement, or not fit with your own process, or you might feel like chopping them out for whatever other reason. Meanwhile the most trivial things can grab your attention, draw you in. I think that's fine. I don't think anybody needs more well-balanced games - that's the worst of all backhanded compliments, next to "diligent".

Having a good time will mean butting your head against established ideas of audience and commerce, since often these act as substitutions for whatever it is you're looking for from putting out a public work. Terms like recognition, validation, communication, can be vague and mysterious in practice. A small half-gesture from someone you don't know can end up sticking to you more than official forms of response like reviews or metric milestones. I think it's good to drift between spaces while you figure out what you want from them, because often they'll use your own uncertainty about what they're able to offer as a way to lock you in.

Having a good time in this format can be illegal, which I think is fine. Videogames are built on, and kept alive by, acts of crime. There is often something very delightful about feeling like you have all the objects of culture at your disposal, to use and misuse as you may like, and conversations about ownership are often best kicked down the line to some other grey day. Of course the same thing applies the other way around as well. I would advise making your first game free.

Having a good time can mean going against yourself, becoming your own enemy. All your dreams, all your desires and ambitions, can look different in the cold light of the game editor. You may find your attention wandering to something new, you may feel apprehensive about how much tedious dogsbody labour you'll need to do to appease that other version of yourself, the one who dreams. How much loyalty do you owe your own conception of yourself? To use RPG Maker is to be thrown headfirst into this interesting dilemma.

It's often said you should make something small for your first game. It's good advice but I think a bit backwards - I think most first games are made for fun and they come out small, because it's often hard to deal with too much pleasure all at once. We find something we like and regard it warily, circling from all sides. Slowly advancing - well, surely there's not much to this. Surely it'll dry up, or disappear, or turn out to be a puddle masquerading as a lake. Bit by bit you start mapping it out and find to your own disbelief that there's still always more to it than you had expected. You can start small and get bigger or vice versa but I think either way you'll end up feeling like that scale is an irrelevant question. And that what matters is the piecemeal exploration of the lake.

Well, if you have fun making something the result is liable to be a mystery to yourself, even just a little bit - say 1% real pleasure and surprise buried in 99% cludge, inherited forms, obligation, moments of fear and dullness. That's fine and you are already batting higher than many profitable game studios, in this case. The rest of it you will forget, or come to feel like you've outgrown - that one small moment of pleasure will remain in memory as something inexplicable, a point to navigate by. And bit by bit you can accumulate more points - and find they don't lead anywhere coherent, or predictable, that you're chasing a shadow. Buffeted here and there, losing your way, finding it again, finding isolated points of a shape you're never completely able to see.

You could spend your life out here, suspended between these points and dreaming,

-- My Friend Pokey, author of the "Pokey 2000" franchise of shovelware game'n'watch ports.

(image: Paul Delvaux, "Forest Station")

#? #developmentman

[weekend-whip]

Can headcanons 🔫 hand ‘em over

(Jamie babysitter? First words? Accidental surprise powers?)

I was like 'can headcanons gun'??? What??? Is that a meme?? And then I realized

Baby!Camellia HCs GO!

General-

Cam's "birthday" is October 27th! (...which is the day Enter the Aftershock happened. Totally planned on Jesse's part.)

At first she sleeps, like, all the time, to the point that Jesse thinks she's sick or something (she's just extra exhausted from suddenly being spawned into existence). And Cole, always glad to have an excuse for nap, will sprawl out on the couch and cradle her on his chest so she can rest to his heartbeat.

...And then she shifts quickly into nearly never sleeping at all, constantly being fussy and crying, to the point that everyone in the Monastery has to take shifts staying up with her so they all can get some sleep (though Jesse takes on the bulk of these cuz he feels primarily responsible, but no one's actually mad nor minds)

They all then discover she will fall asleep instantly to Cole's Glow Worm song......and wonder if her crying all night is better than enduring Cole's singing. (Jesse can sing her to sleep too, but it takes way longer and you've gotta rock her at the same time)

She gets frightened by unfamiliar things very easily- unrecognizable sounds, new places, different faces, certain sensations (like putting a foot on grass/in water), etc. Lloyd is the one that patiently tries to help her adjust to the overwhelmingness of the world because he knows

She is very grabby, tugging at hair and clothes when and where she can and poking people's faces. She also likes messing with Lloyd's pointy ears (which he'd normally hates, but he can make an exception just this once)

She will steal what she can get her hands on, and will run off giggling with her loot. Cole's vibration tracing helps keep track of her baby crimes, thank the master.

She is obsessed with unicorns. Jay makes the mistake of gifting her a stuffed rainbow plush unicorn that they call 'Corn' and she almost never lets it go and turns into a monster when you try to take it from her.

("MY CORN!! MY CORN!!" "Jay what have you done" "I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE!!!")

Pixal is the one that designs/builds her bedroom, while Zane and Nya fill it with all the much needed supplies. Maybe too many supplies.

Wu is the one that gave her the headband with the pink camellia (he knew what was up)

Kai: ...I personally think she's got enough hair to get The Kai style~ Jesse: I'll kill you :D

Babysitting!-

Kai's idea of babysitting is taking Cam for rides in the Charger to get her to fall asleep (with Jesse nagging him constantly to not drive like a maniac). At first Cam is intimidated by the car rides, but winds up loving watching the scenery whiz by and enables Kai to go faster (which entirely defeated the point of the car rides in the first place)

"...All right don't tell your dads" *floors it* "WHEEEEEE!"

Nya and especially Jay get baby fever whenever it's their turn to watch, and use Cam for potential future practice. Nya tests out if she'd even like to be a mom...while Jay is up to his arms in notes on parenting snksnksn

Zane is a godsend when she starts teething, constantly making icecubes and freezing stuff over for her to gum on (otherwise she starts gnawing on his and Pixal's colder exteriors instead). He also makes the best homemade babyfood. Jesse tries and fails to not be jealous.

(Cole will also gladly eat the baby food for himself "just to make sure" until Zane smacks him with a spoon)

Lloyd doesn't get many opportunities to babysit (too busy being overly important) but he always gets a little choked up whenever he holds Cam and marvels at her mere existence and he can never fully explain to anyone why.

Jamie is the go-to babysitter when random crises pop up (Or when everyone needs a date night/me time ...or Jesse and Cole just generally spent.)

Jesse: *appears on Jamie's doorstep* *drops Cam in his arms* Jamie: Wha-? Jesse: *collapses on floor* We just need like twenty minutes– Jamie: ...You look like you need a thousand years

Jamie also takes hundreds of photos of this child. Jesse keeps all his on his phone while Cole carries three wallets full of the prints.

Antonia will babysit on short notice if Jamie's not an option, but she'll always drag Nelson into helping her out. Antonia is also the one that teaches Cam how to read, and Nelson likes to fill out coloring books with Cam (even if Cam's "coloring" is just smearing pink across the whole page).

Cam cannot be left for longer than three days at Grandpa Lou's house. She'll come back humming and singing show tunes she doesn't know the words of at the top of her lungs.

Being left with Grandma Caroline means that she comes home with baskets full of food with her (Cole likes leaving her with Grandma for this reason, along with not having his kid obsessed with showtunes)

Cam is only left with Miranda when no other options are available to (which...seems to happen way too often). Miranda doesn't mind babysitting and spending time with her niece but a) she's not really a kid person and b) she's a horrible influence lmfao. Still, she becomes Cam's biggest idol and inspiration (and Jesse is officially convinced that the universe spites him specifically)

Firsts! (And Magic)-

There's bets going around for what her first word would be but nothing could compare Cole and Jesse for the sucker punch that was when "Miwa" started pouring from their baby's mouth

(Miranda won a very hefty 1000 bucks that day, and Jesse still insists she cheated somehow)

(Her second word is "ubican" –unicorn– and Cole throws his arms up in defeat)

Cole attempts to make Cam's first bite of solid food come from a piece of cake. Lloyd loses his mind explaining why that's a terrible idea.

When she firsts learns to wiggle/crawl, Jay play-races her across the floor and lets her win.

Zane is the one present when she stands for the first time and the sheer excitement in his yells prompt the whole building to come running.

Jesse straight up cries in joy when Cam start toddling towards him for the first time (he was bringing her a freshly-washed Corn, but the point remains)

When Cam gets more mobile in general, she will copy Cole in every single thing he does. The way he stands, the faces he makes —even from across the room, if Cole is present, she is mimicking him in some capacity. He casually lifts a table one time while vacuuming and Cam is suddenly convinced she must be strong as well. She is not and learns the hard way.

Due to essentially and quite literally being made of magic, some of Cam's powers manifest even before True Potential, but she can't control them whatsoever.

"...is our daughter burping sparkles? I think she just burped sparkles."

Nya and Pixal rig up video baby monitors in every room on the monastery the first time Cam gets the hiccups and starts warping

Things will start randomly flying around her room in the middle of the night along with loud sounds and flashing lights scaring the absolute life out of everyone—but that's how they learn when she's having a nightmare. ("Why can't she just cry like a normal baby?! It's like something out of Paranormal Activity!" "KAI.")

Jesse is simply playing patty-cake with her and white camellias start popping up out of thin air.

Cam learns that she can shock people whenever she laughs and finds it extremely funny when people yelp in surprise, making her laugh even harder (and shock even harder. Cycle repeats). This does not work on Jay and that makes her pouty.

Don't make her angry. That's when the fireworks appear.

"Cole, where's the baby?" "...You're not gonna believe me, Jess." "...I'm sure whatever ridiculously insane thing it is, I can handle it." "...she sneezed and is now currently floating on the ceiling." "WHAT?!"

She, like Jesse, also cries glitter.

#ninjago #legacyverse #the ninja legacy whip #ninjago ocs #oc: camellia marvell #oc: jesse marvell #cole brookstone #aftershockshipping #cole x oc #oc x canon #headcanons

[ntls-24722]

ok so i feel like it's about time i've talked about the weird, convoluted headcanon lore i've made for DJMM. everything i leave in my head for too long gets distorted and unrecognizable from.the source

ok so i think a lot of DJMM enjoyers have seen this tweet and while it's fake, because there's like 5 sentences alluding to DJMM in the entire game i've accepted it as fact and I went so overboard with the detail that it says home language. Not like, "original language" or nothing like that, home language

So, alongside the fact that DJMM has a couple things implying that he wasn't originally from Fazbear Entertainment (why would fazbear entertainment issue a warranty... to themselves?...), and that there also just happens to be a wedding dj company called The Music Man IRL that I found by accident, I kind of just made this whole weird thing that before he was bought by Fazbear Entertainment he was a Wedding DJ in Japan.

Alongside being able to set up practically everything, clean up afterwards, and cater to guests in all sorts of ways, he was also made to be able to just... hit the town and stroll down to his destination instead of being directly shipped to or brought there. Imagine being some little kid watching this giant spider thing stroll down the street.

Hold on to that visual, actually, because that brings me to why he considers Japan his home rather than just his... place of origin.

So his bouncer mode. It actually wasn't experimental but rather a very often-used mode of his since I imagine he's attended many weddings were someone has had to be... forcibly escorted out. But what the problem is with it is that during that mode, he is essentially given no restrictions on what he can do and has just been activating it so he can go against orders.

He's big, but he's travelling on hand, hulking around a big bag of supplies on the way, it may take a while for him to get from headquarters to his destination, maybe even days. But what his creators don't know is that he's been taking detours and entire days off to bond with civilians that have been fascinated by him, originally just children marvelling him, but he grew closer to them and becoming much more like a weird uncle to them, growing a bond with a rural community to the point even their families know of him and see him as a friend, and it's this bond that starts to bring problems.

DJMM starts to demand things that robots don't really get to demand, like days off and privacy, which concerns the company as for why he'd even need that. He starts committing outright fraud to insert legally insert himself into society and starts taking tips or some of the profit to spend for himself. He starts tearing out/ sabotaging GPS systems, or disabling microphones so they can't figure out where he's been going or what he's saying. It gets to the point where he outright threatens employees' lives and keeps some hostage to force them into allowing him to do what he wants.

The arms race between DJMM and his creators comes to a close when his creators decide to sell him off to Fazbear entertainment, sieging him and choking him of his battery life before doing a factory reset and sending him off, finally getting rid of him (also voiding Fazbear's warranty on him if his bouncer mode is ever activated again)

While he was able to secretly save his memories, it's not much use now that he's in a whole new country. He's still figuring out how to reconnect with the kids he practically watched grow up but he's also still getting up to trouble in America. we stan a dude who commits... all of this

His design is, now that i realize it, very much inspired by Moguro from the Laughing Salesman. Also he's got the fun eye liquid swirlies from DJMM's Beta design

which, speaking of DJMM's weird design elements. ✨weird things i've noticed about DJMM's design✨

Weird long hole things in the sides of him??? I've seen NO-ONE talk about this

Those aren't speakers. I thought they were, too, for the longest time, but while staring at his ass for a particularly long time I realized that A. They don't have the texture of his other speakers and B. They go in?

Second, he has a gummy smile. It's not shown a lot since i guess his default position is just an agape mouth but in the rare occassion he clicks his teethplates together, or this one Particular render, he's got gums for days

also what the freak, anytime i try to look up a specific facial feature for reference im always finding procedures for removing it!! i'm sick of it!! it popped up when i was looking up cleft chins for Music Man and it popped up for gummy smiles! we can't have SHIT in his household!! goddamn!!!

#djmm #dj music man #(almost) daily music man #ntls-24722 #also im not shaming anyone who does get plastic surgery for that. your body is yours do what u want #i just think its disheartening that when i look up a specific feature what pops up is procedures getting rid of it #its just like #“damn. we cant have anything now can we”

[lovingperfectionsblog]

The Hunters, The Beasts and The Bloody

Drivers: Sir Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Carlos sainz Jr, Charles Leclerc, Sergio Perez, Max Verstappen.

Summary: The myth and lore of F1

Warnings: Gods, war, battle, blood, sacrifice. 

Word Count: 2328

Author's note: This was an exercise in myth making. It serves a greater purpose for me which will feed into a greater personal photographic project and this was an excellent way to practice writing it. Also, this is obviously Ferrari centered, I am a Ferrari supporter so, it is what it is. I also wanted to write something different and new, something I hadn��t seen yet. So I hope it’s okay and you all enjoy it 😀 You are responsible for the media you consume and not everything you read you will agree with, and that’s okay, but that doesn’t mean others agree with you. Please always be respectful. 

—---- 

The stories began as most myths did, with the Gods. 

And the Gods had existed first, always patient, until they grew bored. 

Then came the earth, teaming with life. Land masses spreading hundreds, no, thousands of kilometers. As far as the eye could see. Ready and waiting, unprepared for what was going to happen.

Then came the humans. Only a few. They lived and worked together, happy and content. Until there were too many. Then they began to fight. The people divided. Groups splintered off and spread all over the earth. Settling down where they saw fit. 

And still there were more people. 

And still there was fighting. 

And still more groups splintered off and found their own homes. 

And still there was fighting. 

And still the Gods were bored. 

Until they stopped and paid attention to their humans, curious as to what they were doing with the lands. Entertained by the fighting the humans engaged. 

Until the fighting took too much. 

Until the humans behaved as if the lands were theirs to take. To take control of and own. 

Until the humans thought they were Gods that could rule all. 

And so the Gods came down and offered the people a choice. Engage in their competition, or the Gods wipe the earth and start again. 

The choice was easy for the humans. The humans shouted unanimously for competition, the whispers screamed for war. 

So the Gods set to work, dividing the nations and setting the rules. Creating an order to the chaos they were birthing. 

Each nation had to partake and each nation had to put forward two champions to fight on their behalf. The two who would save everyone else from shedding blood. 

The champions were chosen as children. Bred for purpose. Trained to fight and never give up. Their lives belonged to the competition. They would know nothing other than this. They would only know how to fight. Each waited for the day that they would be called up to become the warrior they had trained their whole life to be. 

These champions came together, and they fought in arenas designed to hold them. Arenas that changed them into the unrecognizable, creatures designed to be warriors. Arenas designed to let the people, and Gods, spectate. Their battles lasted days until they were forced to rest, only to face each other again a few weeks later.

And for 73 years the competition, the war, waged. 

Nations had come and gone. Some disappeared and some were replaced. Few stood strong.

The champions fought until they couldn't. Disappearing and replaced. The nations making sure there were always two champions to fight on their behalf, no matter what. 

The people cheering each new set of champions on. Few mourning those who came before. Even less remembering why the war had begun. All knowing that they had to win, for the prize was too great to lose. The winner allowed to rule for a year, not rule like the Gods could, but some power was better than none. And rule they did, until a new champion and nation was crowned. 

And eventually there were only 10 nations. Each fighting for the prize, for the prize was everything.

The Gods were entertained.

And then the rumors began, they had started early on in the competition, until, over the years, they became legend, but they were believed and never proven to be true. But the people knew. 

The Gods had intervened since the beginning. 

What the people had not known was that between the Gods themselves, they had come to an agreement. Each one would have their own nation. And each would bestow a blessing on the champions. 

Three nations in particular rose above the rest in the later years. Their battles echo the great ones from the past. 

The first nation that was known only as ‘the Hunters’ and their God had blessed them with arrows dipped in Silver. Able to fly through the air with speeds like no one had seen before and an accuracy that made the other Gods hold their breath. They moved with grace and skill, existing in the realms of darkness, faster than light itself. Only knowing they were there when a glimpse of silver was caught between the shadows, knowing that if you saw this, it was already too late.

These champions pillars in the war, Arenas erupting as they stepped out to face battle. 

The first known as ‘the Kind and Consistent’. Attacks calculated and quick, every single time with the same result, a consistency that pushed his own nation forward step by step each and every battle. Despite this ruthlessness, the people were shocked when in a single moment of tragedy, even for the likes of war, he abandoned his teammate, nation and own battle to aid a fellow champion, in an attempt to save their life. A battle lost for him, for a life saved for another champion. He feared returning, anticipating rejection from his nation and the people for what he did, for his abandonment. Instead he was greeted with cheers upon his return. The people celebrating his kindness. And in the distance, the other nations could be heard rejoicing alongside them. 

The second had been bestowed with many names. At first it was ‘the Knight’, as the champion proved to his people that he was a worthy warrior, but over time, as the champion continued to gather wins for his nation, the name had changed to ‘the King’, because surely only someone as great as a king could achieve what this champion had whilst serving the nation so humbly. Yet, the champion still did not stop, and still achieved more. Suddenly the name ‘a God’ was being whispered, not only among the champion's people, but through all the nations, for how could one warrior achieve what they had whilst still being human. Other nations cried that a God had come down to partake, others cried the nation had been blessed with a second gift, wings adoring the champions back, and still, despite the cries of outrage, the champion rose to heights no human had known since them, leading the nation fearlessly into battle. A champion who would eventually make their way into ‘Legend’. 

The current rulers were known as ‘the Beasts’. Their God bestowing on them the aid of animals. Not only to control and to fight alongside them in battle, but for the very spirit to inhabit their own. Merging with their beasts, when in battle, one could barely recognise the human champion, instead only seeing the strength of the creature that fought. The bellow of the bull and roar of the lion heard across the entire arena. 

Their first champion known as ‘the Defense’. With the size and strength of a bull, the champion was able to intercept any and all advances from other champions. Stopping them in their tracks. As if the other champion's mind could be read, always knowing where they would go, and getting there before them, moving as though water carried them, fluid and smooth and never failing. Hurling their body in front of any attacks, ready and willing to lay their life down for their nation and for the people. 

The second was known as ‘the Prodigal’. Plucked young from their home, their skill only greater than their father before them. Embodying the ferocity of a lion, roaring through each and every attack, a sound bringing goosebumps to all who witness it, baring their teeth to all who tried to stand against them. A champion who has made the nation rulers twice, a force so powerful the very sky changing with the cheers from their nation, an orange to match that of a rising sun, the dawn of a new era. Only a few daring to challenge the current ruler, a bite so vicious, most knowing it wise to steer clear. Yet this was coupled with a calculated mind, each move being made with a near unmatched precision. When in battle, so rarely was a fault ever made, the whispers of ‘the super human’ began to be made. 

Then there exists ‘the Bloody’. A nation nearly as old as the earth itself. The oldest and the first of them all. A nation who has known nothing but the age old competition. The war. The nation so old that the people could not remember if one of the Gods had given them anything and if they had, they had long since abandoned them and taken the gift with. Season after season of ruling, suddenly all the nation knew was loss. They cried and blamed the Gods for forsaking them and then the people stopped. If they were to be left with no gifts and no Gods, if their champions were destined to go out and fight with just what they had been born with, then the nation would give their champions the only gift they knew they could. They offered their blood. A single drop from each and every one, for if their champions were going to shed their blood for the people, then the people would do the same for their champions. And so they were blessed, not by the Gods, but by the people, by the nation, a promise to support their champions till the end of days, to follow them to the ends of the earth. 

The first champion was ‘the Strategist’. Born into a family of warriors. A fire in their blood that burned with such intensity that those who were able to bear witness to the battles were sure that they saw the earth beneath his feet left with scorch marks. More importantly, in battle, their champion made the strategic calls. A skill that was unmatched when in the face of battle. Each and every move purposive, going against what others believed should be done and instead doing what they felt was right, rarely ever wrong in their move. Whilst the other nations relied on their gifts, this champion relied on himself, trusting in his knowledge and allowing his love for his nation to lead him in battle. With each and every battle, allowing himself to be guided by his intelligence, by his heart, slowly and surely leading the nation back to a season where they would rule. 

The second was known as ‘the Predestined’. The one to lead the nation back to greatness. From prince to king as they would eventually rule. The old lore believed that one spirit inhabited the champions, moving down from generation to generation, to bring the nation back to greatness when it is needed most. The champion was born to be a warrior, born to serve the people. And serve the people they did. The champion gave their life to their nation, even after those they loved were lost, he strode into battle, grief driving him to win. A promise to the people that victory would come back to their lands once again. Never afraid, willing to challenge even the most deadly of the other champions, never backing down. 

At the end of the 72nd year, after a hard fought war, the final battle loomed and each of the champions stepped into the arena. The people had come to spectate, to support their champions, as they had been doing so across the globe. As the battle began, the people cheered. Encouraging each of the champions to keep moving forward, to not give up, to win for their nation. 

And the champions fought, their cries could be heard across thousands of kilometers, their sweat dripping, or was it their blood, they were no longer sure, but it didn’t matter compared to the victory they could walk away with at the end of this battle for their nation. They grew tired, their muscles moved slow, their cries only got louder, until nothing at all could be heard. 

It was done. 

And the dust had settled.

The beasts had won. 

The nation cheered for their victors as they stood, ready to rule again. 

And the bloody, dripping in red, fell to their knees in front of their people, ashamed that they had not achieved, eyes cast down, watching the dirt below mix with the sweat that dripped off their brows, or was it their blood, or was it their shame. 

Soon they could hear the cheering get louder, but not from the other nations, but their own. The people ran into the arena, circling their champions, drowning out the other cheers, the reminder of “you lost, you lost, you lost” and instead replaced them with their own. 

“You are great”. 

“We are grateful”.

“You are adored”.

They picked their champions up from their knees and carried them home, to where the people could heal them, could thank them for all that they had done and given up for their nation. 

Their cheers never stopped once. 

And their God, the oldest of them all, stood and watched their nation, their people, and waited, patiently, for the day that they would remember the gift that they had carried with them, every single second of every single day, for as long as the nation existed. 

Their gift had not been arrows dipped in silver, nor had it been beasts to fight alongside them.

Their gift ran deep, in the dirt beneath the nation's feet, in the tears in their eyes, in the very blood that each had been so willing to shed.  Not only in the champions, but in each and every one of the people. Passed down from generation to generation. Never once relenting. 

Their passion. 

It is the very thing that has kept the nation alive for as long as it has. Longer than any other. 

 And so, as the 73rd year of war began, as the champions stepped into the arena for the first battle of many, as the people gathered and their God watched, each waited,

Patiently, 

Passionately,

For when the Bloody will rule again.

#Sir Lewis Hamilton #George Russell #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #max verstappen #carlos sainz jr #sergio perez

[therollinkaagenda]

Well I can't just NOT make a post during pride month so... Rollinka Time shift AUs, why not.

Maverick Hunter Roll/Navigator Kalinka au (X era)

-exactly what is says on the tin

-they are both adults in this au

--either the two have been steadily dating as long as anyone has known them, or are just married in this au, I can't decide

-Roll would give mavericks a chance to surrender, but only one (I liked how Archie's Roll was more skeptical and less forgiving than Dr. Light and Rock, that carries over here)

-Roll uses a lance-shaped Saber as her primary weapon, but also uses improvised weaponry when applicable

--Kallinka uses a broom, as a callback to Classic Roll

-both are very knowledgeable about robots in general, and give advice about how best to deal with enemies when navigating

-Kalinka has her father's notes on hand and will refer to them when needed

--Kallinka seems to be the only one who is able to read the notes (apart from, presumably, Dr. Cossack himself), due to the combination of messy handwriting, disorganization, and mix of Russian, English, and Japanese they are written in

-they work best as a pair, and are considered difficult to work with when appart

-Roll is a B rank hunter, it could be far higher but she has a lot of disagreements with other hunters- including her superiors- and doesn't particularly care to improve her rank anyway

_____

Destruction Deity Roll/Cyber Elf Kalinka au (Zero era)

-Roll is revived during Copy X's reign of terror, and Kalinka is there to watch over her girlfriend while she kicks Copy X's self-righteous arsenal

-see, given that Zero is considered the god of destruction in this era, and Roll is the Classic series equivalent of Zero, She is, by extension, a destruction deity.

--before anyone tried to argue with my perfect gay prosecutor logic, I already ran a Tumblr poll on my main to check this. I love democracy

-how is Kalinka a cyber elf, you may ask? I mean I guess technically she isn't, she is running off the life extension tech Dr. Cossack made for himself (I mean both Light and Wily did so that's not a stretch) but couldn't quite finish so he gave it to Kalinka instead

--But functionally she's like the elf in Zero 4

-Roll lost her memory like Zero did, but don't worry, Kalinka remembers everything so she's not completely in the dark

-gotta love the mental image of Neo Arcadia losing their minds over the resistance reviving ANOTHER destruction deity

-and don't think Roll is about to be proven outdated tech so easily, because not only is the broom a timeless masterpiece of a weapon, but she has a bunch of Classic era weapons to fall back on

--most of them aren't nearly as strong as what Neo Arcadia's forces can dish out, but they are still stronger than the lemon shooters that have become standard, and the variety can be used to more effectively exploit weaknesses and design flaws, and catch foes off guard

---there's also the fact that many of these are forgotten, or their equivalents in this era are unrecognizable. For instance, shields that both protect from all directions and can be used for offense, screen clearing attacks, and especially stuff that freezes all enemies like the flash or time stoppers are practically unheard of. It really can add up to a death by a thousand cuts, and Roll, much like Zero is a relatively small target that's more than good enough at dodging to make up for her comparably small health bar

----Yes, there is a Sans joke to be made here, and the joke is on Copy X

-Kalinka is very much her guide similar to Cyber Elf X, but also stays by Roll's side and buffs her like the Zero 4 elf

-once Roll does get her memories back, she begins to take Copy X's actions personally. She does NOT take kindly to what he did with/too her "baby brother"'s good name

-famililal relationship with guardians status: very, very complicated. So they are each a piece of X's soul, right? Does that make them X's children or his siblings? Or some other third thing?

--Either way, Roll can't bring herself to actually kill them - She already has two and a half dead brothers too many at minimum, forget whatever the number becomes if you could ALL of Dr. Light's robots as her siblings.

-because of their backrounds, they are quite good at crafting items and can be found helping develop weapons when they aren't on missions

-Smol Kalinka, very cute

--i know Cyber Elves aren't necessarily the size they are shown to be in game, but I also don't care. Kalinka is smol anyways

______

Mega Man? Kalinka/biometal Model r au (ZX era)

-A role reversal, or should I say a ROLL- *gets shot*

-Model r was a third party hired by Tomas's unwieldy attempt to create a new biometal without Ceil's research or model W, using a soul of beyond ancient and unclear origin because a large amount of mysterious (justice) energy was detected in it.

-however, Model r was unable to Mega Merge with with anyone, even the ones with Albert's DNA- and all telepathy could tell them was cryptic hints as to the one person who could

--Determined not to let the project be a failure, they would eventually revive Kalinka without her memories - only the knowledge (well, feeling) that she could, and should trust Model r, and together they break out of the lab

- Model r is not the strongest biometal, and since Kalinka isn't actually a 'mega man', isn't compatible with the other biometal's either. She does, however, have the variable weapon system, and a broom.

--given that the Psudoroids are complete [YouTube]s, I think that will be enough

-certain memories can be found by going to certain places - the met theme park and e-tank shop, for instance

-Roll does remember everything - her memory wasn't wiped because of the aforementioned search for Kalinka - but she doesn't tell Kalinka all that much because... Well, she's sorta 'not supposed to be alive' right now and it would be difficult to explain that everyone Kalinka cared about is dead, and the one exception, her, is the reason she has to live with that

--and then Tomas tries to use that to make Kalinka doubt Roll and give up right before they fight and it works about as well as the last two times a ZX villain tried that, who would have thought

-the male alt ZX has for some reason is either Rock/Bass or Protoman/Tempo, take your pick.

#rollinka #megaman #roll #kalinka cossack #roll x kalinka #you don't deserve context

[discet]

Big question for the Scorched Earth AU: how much has human culture changed under Amphibian rule for 1000 years?

Significantly. Like it would be pretty unrecognizable. I mean, see how much British rule impacted the cultures they colonized in just the 2 centuries or so. 1000 years is such a drastic time scale to be removed from homeland. Lots of stuff is lost.

Language

Probably almost all lost and homogynized. There's probably a lot of human 'slang' that are remnents of dead languages, but 1000 years is a long time for a language to weather the demands of an empire. I think the Amphibian Empire would probably require everyone to learn Amphibian, and after 20 or so generations people would just stop passing on their ancestral tongues.

Food

Weirdly with all the different substitutes that Anne manages to make due with in canon, I think the main difference is that culinary cultures and traditions are all blending together. So much fusion cuisine. mmmmm

Arts

This one is gonna be rough but humans arts is probably limited to things like pottery, weaving, and other things where creativity intersects with everyday necessities.

Humans are not getting the wealthy noble patrons to do paintings or commissioned to design grand pieces of architecture. (there are probably some outliers, but they are going against the grain and would be novelties).

Music is probably alive and well though, instruments are a luxury, but not all of them are that expensive to make or maintain. Again probably blended into genres we would have trouble recognizing.

Religion

I think funnily enough Buddhism is probably the most prevalent one remaining? It had a significant following in 1000AD and unlike Christianity or Islam do not offer a direct threat to the authority of the Amphibian Empire. Though even then there is probably a lot of blending that occurs as humans from different areas are kind of thrown together. So while a lot of iconigraphy would be recognizably buddhist, it would probably incorporate influences and traditions of other religions.

Like as tragic as it is, colonialism is a nightmare and I think would severely impact religious practices. It's definitely part of the tragedy of the premise.

Probably some underground sects exist but considering the size of Amphibia as a whole, probably aren't too numerous. (Though my guess is the New Continent mentioned in the Epilogue would have been opened up, if it wasn't already being used by the Empire.)

Other religions may fade into mythology over the course of that time.

---

Could probably think on this some more, but work is about to start so there's that for now.

#world building #scorched earth au #imperialism mention #its a nightmare