#this was about dishonored but could go for several games

[irkedisaac]

meet-cute between two guards who were both knocked out and stashed in a vent by a masked assassin

#shitpost #this was about dishonored but could go for several games #dishonored

[bignostalgias]

*throws ❄️ at you*

ty have a great day <3

*catches ur ❄️* thank youuuu, you as well! 🥰

Translations AU snippet under cut ✨

WIP ask game

“Oh, nothing, I just - hic - ugh, got the hiccups,” Astrid coughed, pounding her chest. “Drank my mead too - hic - ow, that one hurt.”

For a reason Hiccup could not discern, Jack refused to sit like a normal person. He was perched on the table, mug clutched in both hands. “Hiccup what?” He asked. His eyes flicked toward where Hiccup was seated.

He blinked back at him. “Huh?”

“Hiccup got what?” Jack repeated, stilted, but understandable - his consonants were improving.

“I have them?” Astrid offered, hiccuped again, then took a beat. Her eyes lit up with the sort of glee Hiccup was used to seeing from Jack or the twins. This wasn’t a good sign - he was rubbing off on the most sensible of them. “Ohhhh…” she drew out the vowel, giggling, hiccuping more.

Jack regarded his friends with an amused tilt to his smile, but his eyebrows were lifted in disbelief.

“What are you going on about?” Hiccup asked, just as Astrid held up a finger and pointed at her throat.

“This - hic - is a hiccup,” she clarified. Then she full on socked Hiccup - her flesh and blood friend, who’s armor was stored away for the night so was entirely bruisable - in the shoulder. “This is also a Hiccup!”

It dawned on Hiccup then, that to Jack, Hiccup was only a name, a short succession of sounds - not a title. A now endearing title, one that he’d grown into, but several years ago it was a dishonorable one to bear.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. He mimed a hiccup himself - which, gods help him, was adorable - then gestured to Hiccup with one hand, mead sloshing in his mug.

“Har har,” Hiccup spread his arms, bowing a little to his audience of two. “My name is embarrassing. Yuk it up.”

Astrid continued to laugh, interrupted by sharp intakes of breath. Jack poked his cheek. Hiccup looked at him, having to crane his neck backwards because at some point Jack had scooched closer to his side of the table. Jack’s brown eyes were sparkling with notes of orange from the mead hall’s torches.

“In English,” Jack told him. “Hiccup.” The word sounded similar enough, but at the end, Jack pressed his lips together to make a popping sound. Hiccup found himself mirroring the motion thoughtlessly.

“Hiccup,” he tried aloud.

Jack grinned. Hiccup flushed, realizing he’d been staring at Jack’s mouth for longer than was necessary. “Not bad,” Jack told him in Norse.

#mine #the longer I use this blog the more reckless I become #translations au #frostcup #q

[ryehouses]

i was tagged in this by @bobafett, who wants to bring back ask box games! this was really fun and really helped drive home the fact that i am maybe a little too wordy!

y'all know the drill. copy, paste, fill in your own answers! feel free to share!

How many works do you have on AO3? impossible for me to say because i have shed ao3 handles like a particularly robust hermit crab, but if i'm just counting everything under iridan, thirteen!

What’s your total AO3 word count? ......1.3 million, as iridan. if we throw in some of my other psueds and the truly awful eragon fanfiction i wrote when i was fourteen, we're probably loking at 2 - 2.5 mil.

What fandoms do you write for? presently, star wars, jujutsu kaisen, star wars again. i have some witcher fic in my gdocs and older projects in rdr2, dishonored, anything that can catch and hold my attention for long enough for my brain to produce a bit of dopamine,

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? all five of them are in the ast 'verse except for lost country

Do you respond to comments? i try to, but it's really hit or miss! i am painfully shy and usually can only go '!!!!!' in thanks

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? of my completed fics, none! i am not really in to the angst ending. if i ever do get around to finishing it, i started a dishonored/his dark materials au that would have ended with corvo going slowly, gently nuts and taking over the outsider's place in the void

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i like happy endings, so all of them!

Do you get hate on fics? occasionally. i still think about that one commentor on ast who accused me of blaming the jedi for order 66 like, all the time. mostly no, though, everyone is really nice!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i've been told that 'wrestling as nasty foreplay' is something of a signature move of mine, so! 1) yes and 2) whatever kind of smut 'wrestling as nasty foreplay' applies as

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? yes, but almost exclusively his dark materials crossovers. i do have a witcher/temeraire fusion au sitting in my gdocs

Have you ever had a fic stolen? no, not that i'm aware of. i do semi-frequent google searches to see if my shit pops up anywhere.

Have you ever had a fic translated? i don't think so! ast was podfic'd, if that counts.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i don't think so, because i am a whole idiot and am hard to collaborate with.

What’s your all time favorite ship? of ALL TIME? impossible to say. i am inconsistent and flighty. bobadin hit me pretty good, though

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? haha too many. i started a jedi!din fic and didn't get far. i've had several WIPs on ao3 sit without an update for years. i have drafted, redrafted, and drafted again a novel that will most likely never see the light of day. finishing even one of those would likely water my crops for several years

What are your writing strengths? i take particular pride in my settings! somebody on ao3 told me last week that i have nice turns of phrase, too, and i am proud of those too

What are your writing weaknesses? i have never once said anything in six words when i could say them in six hundred million billion instead

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? obviously i've experimented in various projects, but i am fundamentally kind of lazy and prefer to sprinkle in a few words here and there instead of spending the time to learn about another language's grammar structure

First fandom you wrote for? the first fandom i published anything in was eragon, way back in the day! the first fandom i wrote for was his dark materials, in a composition notebook in like the fifth or sixth grade!

Favorite fic you’ve written? could not possibly pic! they are all like my children and also my therapist.

i'm tagging @meyerlansky and anybody else who wants to participate! consider yourself invited!

#ask box #ask games #i do miss ask games those were fun

[open-hearth-rpg]

Violence Begets: Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics: Week Eight

Several games/systems in the last couple of decades have included currencies for the gamemaster, often in combination with a parallel currency for the GM. Fate Points from Fate, Darkness from Coriolis, Threat (by various names) in the 2d20 systems. They’re often used to trigger events, activate foe abilities, and increase the danger of adversaries. It’s an interesting and dynamic approach– though it's often one I forget as a GM. 

Sometimes that’s because we’re moving quickly and stopping off to track that or to interrupt the flow of a moment doesn’t feel right. In other cases, spending that currency to make things more challenging for the players feels a little arbitrary. I forget that this is something that’s built into the mechanics. But the abstraction of it can make me reluctant to do those kinds of spends. 

So it’s a little but significant thing when the game ties those elements into player actions. For example in Coriolis, the GM’s currency generates when the players spend their own currency. In the various 2d20 games, if a PC lacks Momentum to boost themselves, they can give the GM Threat instead– short term reward for long term risk. 

But there’s a particular variation in one 2d20 game worth examining. In Star Trek Adventures the mechanics offer another way to generate Threat. When the players ask for heavier weaponry for a mission, like a Phaser Rifle, the GM gains it. When players opt to set phasers to kill in a combat, the likewise give a point to the GM. It’s built into several published adventurers. For example in "Hard Rock Catastrophe," the PCs in orbit have to deal with colossal monsters on the surface. If they choose more aggressive methods (firing phasers to blind them or tractor beaming them to redirect them), these generate additional threat whether they succeed or not. 

In the case of STA this idea supports the genre and I love it. Starfleet’s about creative problem solving and exhausting options before moving to violence. Going in fully armed raises the stakes of a situation and increases the tension. I love that cost/benefit reinforcement. Additionally it feels right for me as a GM: I know what generated the Threat, rather than it just being an abstract energy of bad luck I have. 

You could adapt this to other games where the players’ goal is to defuse tension, keep the peace, or avoid getting themselves into trouble. The most obvious non-currency approach would be a clock. I can imagine this in a Blades in the Dark campaign– you already often have relationship clocks with different factions. In some ways this parallels the mechanic of Chaos from Dishonored, a strong influence on the Blades setting. 

I can also imagine it as a campaign tracker– with break points for effects. There’s some of that kind of thing in Girl by Moonlight. Each setting has tracks showing how things are progressing. I especially like it as a campaign-wide clock. It could be the spine of a Mountain Home game, perhaps with a looming threat for an arc of the campaign. I could imagine a Masks campaign where you’re tracking the time until a resentful adult superteam decides to intervene. 

Ideally a track like this should be visible to the players, though maybe exactly what happens at the break points might not be. The track should go up when the players make active choices and do things. It’s a little less interesting if it rises when they don’t do things. You can have some of that passive rise, but imho it’s better to go active. If you do have it rising passively, there should be some mechanic for the PCs to reduce the clock.

#ttrpg #rpg #rpg mechanics

[annamarabella-grumble]

mass effect replay thoughts, episode 10

episode 1 / episode 2 / episode 3 / episode 4 / episode 5 / episode 6 / episode 7 / episode 8 / episode 9

it’s sad picnic time on illium!

“we’re trying to call it ‘indentured servitude’ rather than slavery, but honestly humans are just prejudiced. it’s people’s own choice to enter slavery! i mean, indentured servitude.”

and then NO-ONE you talk to actually bothers calling it by its euphemistic term. it’s just “that quarian slave” this, “that quarian slave” that. in the end, shepard can throw her weight around a little and talk the synthetic insights rep into buying the contract and letting the quarian – whose name we do not even learn – go, but that’s barely a bandaid on a chasm of a wound. it’s a twig thrown across the abyss. no-one else is going to cross on the back of shepard’s interference. the player gets to feel good about this one thing, but the game is quick to remind you that there’s more where that came from, and short of sicing gianna parasini on the entire illium leadership, there’s nothing shep can do.

but. but. wasn’t it that someone who saves one life, saves the world entire? if mass effect is about working to save as many as possible, then saving one is still worthwhile. and it’s a damn sight better than looking away.

I LOVE AETHYTA SO MUCH. she truly is her father’s daughter – right down to the asari on thessia laughing “the blue off my ass” for warning them that spending their wild maiden years shaking their tits in some bar isn’t going to help prevent wars

it hadn’t occurred to me before playing this again, but man, i wish i could send ereba, the asari being courted by the soft-hearted krogan charr, to aethyta for advice. aethyta had a krogan dad, and i’m sure she’d have some, uh, wise and colourful words for ereba. alas, all shepard can do is tell her to listen to her heart.

also, i don’t think charr’s poetry is bad???? maybe because my standard for untenable lyrics is that one vogon poetry slam i went to, but dude.

samara. ma’am. ma’am, pls.

thane once again HOGGING ALL THE LENS FLARE (like, for real)

thaaaaaane – we’re going to romance him in this playthrough, for maximum tragedy. can’t wait to have my heart ripped out several months from now

it will tickle dishonored fans to hear that one viewer correctly cold-read zaeed and called there being an alternative armour skin for him in red – he’s space daud, sorry about it.

thane believes that his body and his spirit are separate — only his body kills, therefore his spirit is “clean.” that’s why thane can’t be daud, even though he’s named the assassin. if anyone’s daud, it’s zaeed. he’s who he represents himself to be, and you can hate him or love him, but he knows exactly who he is. right down to blowing up a slaughterhouse refinery, if it comes to it.

hunt for red october reference! i’d love to see joker pull a crazy ivan lmao. he could probably do it! and everyone would go a little pale around the nose

BIOTIC GOD. i had jack and zaeed with me, so we didn’t get the line, but my fave is when zaeed asks shep if she wants him to “kneecap this guy so he won’t follow you around”

for all that he’s dead, kaidan sure is haunting me

#mass effect 1 #mass effect 2 #meta #grumble has thoughts #video games #mass effect legendary edition #mass effect

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Here is even more ArgMex (with a side of NedPort)

This is set after the quarterfinals:

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

Mexico could hear the yelling before he laid eyes on either man. He knew the Netherlands voice and winced at the anger in it as it said, “That was the most dishonorable, underhanded game I have ever played. You don’t have a moral bone in your body.” 

Mexico rounded the corner to see Argentina sneer back at the Netherlands and say, “You are just upset because you lost. You are lucky that the referee gave you so much time to catch up. Maybe you’re the one who was paying him off.” 

Mexico saw a convulsion of anger pass over the Dutchman’s face. His face was a blotchy red as he responded, in a loud heated voice that was unusual for him, “Fuck you and your primadonna. I know exactly what game you are playing. You push people around because you can. Big man who can only pick on people smaller than him.” 

He put his hands in the middle of Argentina’s chest and pushed him hard. It must have been hard, because Argentina was forced to take a step back. The Netherlands’ lip curled into a snarl as he added, “Let’s see how you like a fight with someone your own size.” 

He pushed Argentina again, but Argentina was better able to plant his feet in anticipation. He pushed back just as hard and said, “You push hard for such a little country. Don’t make me prove that I can win at this too. Just say you are envious and save your dignity.” 

Mexico ran forward, intent on getting between them before the fight could get any more physical. The Netherlands fired back, and Mexico had rarely seen him so angry unless it involved Spain, “I am not envious of a bully and a cheat!” 

Mexico managed to slip between them before Argentina could respond. He put one hand on both of their chests and tried to push them apart while saying, “Stop it, both of you! Have some class!” 

He was surprised that they actually did both take a step back. The Netherlands met his eyes, and for a moment the anger drained out of the man’s gaze. For all his anger, he was not willing to push through Mexico to continue the fight.

Mexico was glad for it; he loved them both and did not want to see the kind of damage they could do to each other. The Dutchman took another step back, clearly trying to pull himself together before he lost his temper more severely. 

He ran one hand over his sweaty hair like he was trying to calm himself. He said, speaking to Mexico without looking up at Argentina, “For your sake, I’ll go. But you shouldn’t let that cheater lay a hand on you.” 

Mexico saw the fire in his eyes, and he had no doubt that the man would continue the fight at the slightest provocation. Mexico took a deep breath. He was not usually the one who had to be a calming influence, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. 

Before he could make any decision, Argentina stepped forward and put his arms around Mexico’s shoulders. He said, loud enough that there was no way for the Netherlands to miss it, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Then he kissed Mexico on the cheek, making it perfectly clear that he had no intention of keeping his hands off. Mexico could see the smirk on his lips, and his stomach sank. 

The Netherlands said, sharply, “That is it!” 

Mexico ducked as an orange blur came dangerously close to his head. He heard the fist make contact and felt Argentina let go of him as he reeled back. 

There was the sound of running footsteps. When Mexico looked up, he saw Portugal’s familiar figure between himself and the Netherlands. He had both hands against the Dutchman’s chest and was saying soothingly, “Don’t do this, love. He isn’t worth your cup ending like this. Please take a breath and think about what you’re doing.” 

Mexico turned around to see Argentina rubbing his cheek and looking like he had every intention of getting revenge for the blow. Mexico turned to him and put his hand softly on Argentina’s face. He hoped that he could be more interesting than a fight.

 He asked, quietly, “Are you alright?” Argentina nodded, but it was clear that he was still angry. 

Mexico could hear Portugal continuing to talk the Netherlands down from his rage, “Come with me. Doesn’t getting a drink with me sound better than this?”

 Mexico glanced over his shoulder at them and saw that Portugal had his hand on the Dutchman’s face. The Netherlands seemed entranced by him and nodded wordlessly at the suggestion. Mexico let out the breath that he had been holding. 

As the Netherlands turned and walked away, Argentina shouted, “Oh, so you’re going to run, co-“ 

Mexico did the first thing that came to mind: He grabbed Argentina by the front of his jersey and pulled him into a kiss. He pushed his tongue into Argentina’s mouth to make completely sure that he could not keep talking. He heard Argentina moan happily against his lips. 

Once they broke apart, the Netherlands was gone, and Mexico could let out a real sigh of relief. He turned to Argentina and said, slightly irritated, “Why do you have to always start fights during matches? Can’t you just be nice?” 

The Argentina smiled at him in a way that Mexico always found charming - even against his better judgement - and answered, “What do you mean? I’m always nice to you, kitten.” 

Mexico rolled his eyes and said, “I have a picture of a black eye on my phone that says otherwise. Do you want to see it to jog your memory?” 

Argentina leaned in and said, sweetly, “I’ll be very nice to you for the rest of the cup.” He kissed Mexico softly on the lips to make the point before adding, “Unless you want it hard.” 

Mexico felt all the desire to argue drain out of him. He was proud of his lover, even if he was deeply frustrated with the tactics. He smirked and said, “Let’s go celebrate your win. As long as you promise no more fighting tonight.”  

Argentina nodded, and said, “I wouldn’t want to miss out on celebrating with you.”

#hws argentina #hws netherlands

[maskedsin]

let’s talk about corvo’s perception in dunwall and how it effects everything going into the first game.

there are several lines that slap me on my playthrough -- primarily 1) callista’s  “Do you think you could protect him? You used to do that, right? Before you had your current profession, before you became an assassin.” at this point in time, corvo is not an assassin. even if he had killed people in coldridge (which, to be fair, is my personal blog canon) calling him an assassin feels strange. before corvo even sets foot in the hound pits pub, the loyalists (by which i mean pendleton, havelock, maybe martin depending on timelines) have already set a reputation for him. yes, he’ll be the key to everything, but he’ll have to do terrible terrible things, and he’ll want to do them! no problem!

there’s also just such....a final matter to it when it comes to being royal protector. like, that’s in the past! now you’re an assassin!

2), havelock’s own “your exploits are legendary”. not to be cruel to my boy, but what fucking exploits? he won the blade verbena at 16, and this is no small feat for sure, but that is only one and havelock talks about this in a conversation when you’re about to head into high overseer campbell. an organized swordfight over 20 years ago isn’t particularly relevant.

i’m convinced this connects to dunwall’s general attitude towards serkonans. serkonans are repeatedly stated to be seen as lesser, and rough around the edges. corvo being the first serkonan royal protector makes waves due to being preemptively percieved as dishonorable and violent. in contrast, part of the trauma entailed in dishonored aside from the obvious is he’s never done this shit before! he’s crawling through sewers, killing people. it’s not his normal nature or preference like even the loyalists seem to believe.

#❝ 🔪⤿ meta: crow in name‚ rat by title. in truth you are the cat skulking the cobblestone. #im only up to starting house of pleasure in this playthrough and im like #my fucking god there is os much in here

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Bangs- Kili Durin x OC

Kili Durin x Nessa Thorn

Description: Kili makes a horrible mistake during a game of truth or dare, now he has to go to Nessa to help him fix it.

Word Count: 1.9k

“Kili, truth or dare?”

Thorin’s Company had decided to stop in a town to restock and rest for a bit before continuing their journey to the Lonely Mountains. Thankfully, an inn had enough rooms (and kindness) for everyone to pair up for a few nights relatively cheaply. Almost instantly everyone went to their designated rooms and settled down for the night. After all they had to leave early in the morning to cover as much ground as they could the next day, they’d need all the sleep they could get. The two princes, Celeste, Bofur, Gemma, Bilbo and Pandora weren’t tired though, and had decided to entertain themselves by playing a game of truth or dare.

So far everyone had gone their turn except for Kili. Pandora had to sneak downstairs and steal some ale for everyone from the pub next door, Bofur had to drink a strange concoction made by Fili, Kili and Gemma, Fili had to jump into a lake just outside the inn fully clothed, Gemma had to steal one of Nori’s possessions (a form of payback from the thief), and Bilbo was forced to jump over a small fire that the others had set up outside.

Kili was the only one who hadn’t accepted a dare yet. It was his older brother that asked the dreaded question, but the younger Durin was never a quitter, nor would he allow himself to be considered one. Truth would be too easy of an answer at this point, so he had to say the obvious answer.

“Dare,” he responded with a proud look. The elder Durin wasn’t surprised by his answer, but he did take a minute to look around their room, trying to figure out how to get him. Finally he looked at his brother with a smirk.

“Cut yourself some pretty bangs.” Everyone was obviously surprised by his dare, and Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora glanced at the Prince nervously. Kili, however, would rather dishonor himself than turn down such a dare. He didn’t even think twice about it. Without a word he stood and walked over to his bag, grabbing a small knife from it.

“Kili, you don’t have to do this,” Bilbo called nervously.

“No one would blame you umraiê (my friend),” Gemma added in the same tone. Kili disregarded his friends’ words as he grabbed the front pieces of his hair.

Everyone watched with bated breath as he lifted the knife under the hair in his hand and, with several choppy slices, cut almost all of it off. The hair fell to the ground with finality as everyone watched, then they looked up at the youngest dwarf. He seemed to be realizing what he had just done because he was looking in a nearby mirror, examining the hair that now fell over his forehead, reaching just past his eyebrows. It was a hack job to say the least, the hair was uneven and awkwardly placed.

“Oh Aule (dwarvish ‘god’), what have I done,” he breathed out, staring at his reflection with wide eyes. Gods, the dwarves would never let him live this down he continued looking like this. No one knew what to say. Some of them (namely Gemma, Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora) were still in shock and others (namely Fili and Bofur) were trying not to show their amusement.

“Uh… Ki, do you want me to try and fix it?” Fili offered, using all his strength to not let a smile slip. His younger brother shook his head, still refusing to look at anyone.

“What room is Nessa in?” He questioned, voice wavering just enough for them to notice it. Fili looked at his fiance, as she was the elf’s roommate for the time being, and she offered Kili a sympathetic smile.

“Three doors to the right, do you want a key?” The boy shook his head and walked to the bedroom door.

“No, I’ll just knock. Hopefully she’ll still be awake,” he responded, opening the door before anyone could say anything and walking out. Just faintly, he could hear Bofu and Fili burst out laughing, finally succumbing to their amusement with the whole situation. He smiled internally as he heard Celeste and Gemma scolding them while he walked three doors down. It wasn’t until he was in front of her door that he paused. What if she was asleep? He didn’t want to wake her up? What if she said no to helping him? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard rustling around in the room. She was awake, thank Mahal (dwarves’ heaven basically). Before more doubts could enter his mind he lifted his hand and knocked softly on the door.

The rustling immediately stopped at the sound, then just a moment later the door opened. Nessa stood there, eyes widening as she attempted to process the sight before her. Kili couldn’t exactly blame her though. It was late and he showed up out of nowhere with a new and very choppy hairstyle and a desperate look on his face. He finally spoke up when she opened her mouth to question him.

“Fili dared me,” he explained miserably, fidgeting with his hands in front of him. “Can you help? Please?” The elf opened her mouth, then closed it, still in shock about the situation.

“Uh, are you sure Kili?” She questioned nervously. “I don’t want you to make a mistake asking me.”

Obviously after living with fifteen dwarves over the last few months, Nessa was bound to learn a few things. Dwarves, like elves, had courting customs that included dealing with hair. They both had the custom of braiding the person they’re courting’s hair as a sign of commitment to one another. Dwarves are a bit more severe about it. They don’t allow anyone who they aren’t kin nor courting/married to them to cut, style, or do anything to their hair, including fixing a mistake. And yes, technically they were courting already. They’d braided each other’s hair and Kili was working on courting beads for Nessa, but neither of them had the need to do something like this. Nessa wanted to make sure that he was 100% sure with his decision, not wanting either of them to face the wrath of the other dwarves in case he wasn’t.

“I would rather you do it than anyone else,” he responded earnestly. Nessa’s cheeks were dusted with a scarlet blush at his confession, and she nodded as she opened the door wider for him to step in.

“Come in and take a seat on the bed. I think I saw some shears in the bedside drawers,” she said, rifling through said drawers. Kili did as she said, closing the doors behind him and sitting on the edge of what he assumed was her bed.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, though he had heard her rustling around earlier.

“Oh, you didn’t,” she responded immediately, shooting him a reassuring grin. “I don’t need a lot of sleep.

“Ah, right, elf,” he mumbled as if just remembering that they were in fact different races while she continued to look. After a minute she finally found what she had been searching for and walked over to him.

“Now, bear in mind that I’ve never cut hair,” she started slowly, carding her free hand through his bangs absentmindedly. Kili tried not to sigh contentedly at the action and instead offered her a reassuring smile.

“I trust you Nessa,” he retorted, moving her hand away from his hair and holding it gently in his. With one more nod, the elf sighed and gingerly pulled away, bringing a section of his bangs between her index and middle fingers. She brought the shears up to his hair slowly, just in case the Prince ended up changing his mind. He didn’t though, and she finally began snipping off the uneven parts. Her movements were careful and vigilant, making sure that she wouldn’t make anything worse. Despite her slow speed, she finished rather quickly then brushed all the hair off his lap.

“It’s not the best, but I’d say it looks better than before,” she muttered softly as he stood and walked over to a mirror that looked exactly the same as the one in his room. He examined his new appearance, pursing his lips in thought. She was right, this was much better than before. To be fair though, the bar was pretty low. Either way he thought it looked amazing because she was the one to do it.

“It looks great, ibrizinlêkhê (my sunshine). What do you think?” He asked, finally looking at her once again. Nessa, who had been attempting to sweep the hair up with her hands to throw away, looked at him once more. She offered him a kind smile then reached for his hands, which he gladly held out for her to take.

“I think you look very handsome, elen nîn (my star),” she answered without a hint of hesitation in her tone. Kili smiled brightly then offered her a chaste kiss in thanks.

“Do you think it’ll be noticeable to the others?” He asked worriedly once they pulled away. The elf was once again there to calm his nerves.

“I doubt it. The only ones who will notice are the ones you were playing truth or dare with.” The dwarf sighed in relief then nodded with a small smile.

“Well, would you like to join our game?” He offered, gesturing to the door. Nessa hummed in thought, internally debating her options before ultimately nodding.

“Lead the way, elen nîn (my star).”

Kili, Nessa, Fili, Celeste, Bofur, Gemma, Bilbo and Pandora awoke the next morning in various places in Fili and Kili’s room. Kili and Nessa were in Kili’s bed, Fili and Celeste were in Fili’s bed and Bilbo, Pandora, Bofur and Gemma were all on the floor when Thorin knocked on the door, stating that they would be leaving the inn within the hour.

They had almost forgotten what happened the night before. The only clues they had to go off of were the tankards that previously had ale, Gemma hiding Nori’s pocket knife in her husband’s coat, the burnt hairs on Bilbo’s feet, Fili’s still wet clothes and, of course, Kili’s new bangs. He had to beg the others not to say anything about them just yet, and by some sort of miracle, they agreed. Nessa, Celeste, Bilbo and Pandora obviously had no problem with it, Kili was more worried about his brother and Bofur. Thankfully they kept their promise as everyone gathered in the lobby of the inn.

“Hey, has anyone seen my knife?” Nori questioned as Thorin took a headcount. Kili and Nessa snickered as Gemma subtly moved behind Bofur.

“Alright, everyone’s here,” Thorin announced, ignoring Nori’s question. “Move out, we have a long journey ahead of us.” The Company nodded and did as he said, filing out one by one (or two by two in Bilbo and Pandora’s case). Kili and Nessa were near the back of the line, but just as they reached the doorway Thorin put a hand out to stop them.

“Is something the matter, Uncle?” Kili questioned curiously, feeling Nessa, Fili, Celeste, Bofur and Gemma’s confused gazes on Thorin. Rather than answer at first, the King took a good long look at his youngest nephew, brows furrowing in thought.

“Have you always had bangs?” He finally asked. That made the group from last night all but burst into laughter as Kili stared at his uncle in horror.

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #kili durin #kili imagine #kili durin x oc

[inkyquince]

SOMEONE FINALLY UNDERSTANDS MY PROBLEMS WITH GENSHIN!! oh my god I liked paimon at the Start but then she became overbearing and the lack of actual options in conversations was so annoying that I hate her now. For example, the very first character quest you for Kaeya, the traveler has the option to be "well time to report to Kaeya" OR "go immediately to the treasure" but if you chose the option to go report to Kaeya first, paimon straight up goes "THERES NO NEED!!" and you're FORCED TO GO WITH IT?? It's a tame example but it's honestly a perfect example of my issues. There's no reason for several options honestly. They don't affect character relationships despise there being a companionship mechanic. Even persona 5 had a right/wrong choice that could either speed or slow down your relationship with others. Also paimon is so annoyingly childish and honestly useless? I don't recall a single time she actually helped. Almost all the time, she's just as confused as, if not more confused, than the Traveller. Honestly Genshin would be considerably better if the Traveller was a one-person team, Paimon is just loud, obnoxious, and if I was the Traveller I would've thrown her out before I reached liyue

THANK YOU!!

Like... I fucking love dialogue trees.

From Pathologic, where the dialogue tree has you on edge, it's scary, because you could lock yourself out of the conversation if you pick wrong, and it fits the game so well? Mass effect, being paragon or renegade, forming your reputation and flirting with aliens, and it fits the game. Dragon age, especially origin and 2, where you could LITERALLY CHOOSE IMPORTANT SHIT in dialogue, and choose what kinda Hawke you wanted to be, yknow purple hawke for life, and it fits the game. FALLOUT NEW VEGAS??? Legitimately lets you peacefully resolve a huge threat IF you have high speech and pick the correct options, you have to THINK and, you know it, it fits the game.

It's amazing how something as simple as dialogue trees show a substantial part of any game that has them.

Even Dishonored, which mainly has them pop up to tell the loyalists you don't want to go to bed yet and to either let certain NPC's go, set up an alternative route visa vi Slackjaw, and knock out/kill. It says a lot about what the game is, if you want high or low chaos, who you form Corvo out to be. And they don't even pop up that much??? And it fits the fucking game.

So, yknow, genshin's dialogue trees also fit the game. You are seemingly given options on how to play, but it's just fluff on your way to the same outcome. The choice that matters most in the game is who you pick at the start and that's it. You pick one dialogue option that suggests you can approach a quest in a different way, but no, you're shot down and have to do it the original way. Paimon keeps commenting. It's the facade of an interesting choice. Nothing you do matters and in most games, that's fine. You cannot take branching paths in most games, like call of duty, or GTA, or older assassin's creed, and it doesn't diminish them! They have a story they want told.

But pretending your game is smarter and deeper than it is, is what is fucking stupid. Why have dialogue trees. What's the point of pretending to be an RPG if you're just a fun ensemble of collectible characters with tight combat? You're ruining your game by this pretending of being deeper. All it does is make me smack the space-bar frantically and switch to pressing the mouse button when the "options" pop up. Like it's just insulting.

It's like Deus Ex Human Revolution. They wanted this game to be as varied and fun and immersive as Deus Ex, but it just wasn't. Dialogue and actions meant nothing at all.

No shame in just telling the player to get past the challenge and the enemies and don't die during it and then we insert the next scene of the plot. No shame, as I said, AMAZING games have a simple linear structure that has the player having a stellar game riding along with their story.

But why the fuck would you pretend otherwise.

Also... I would have slam dunked Paimon into the stove the moment she started insulting Venti. Like?? We don't know this man, who raised your rude ass.

#god i hate paimon #huh #went on angry university student rant there #but also i got my damn degree and now i get to wave it and shout about the things im mad about #i only ever get this angry if something i love or see a lot of worth in #needs some fuckinf fixing #you know how great genshin could be?? if mihoyo didnt make jt??? #ask #paimon nemesis #quinceyeasyspeaky

[crystalelemental]

Scout Value - Halloween Spotlight Scout

Time for my yearly propaganda about how Halloween Caitlin is actually the best! Hey kids, you like 0.33% odds?! Then boy do we have a spotlight for you! All the previous Halloween alts crammed in one! This is a terrible value, do not let me deceive you in this way, but also listen to me about Caitlin.

Halloween Acerola Let's start with the poster child for "Seasonal alts should get grid expansions now." Acerola is bad. Ghost Tech, decent enough nuke, but not exactly strong with it. Her focus is confusion, she's got pretty poor DPS and no real MPR on her limited traits, it's an entire mess. I'm still so tempted to get it. I don't know why, I've come around to not even liking Acerola all that much, and I've never been as attached to Mimikyu as others, so I couldn't even say what draws me in. I think it's my tendency to champion garbage.

Halloween Hilbert Hilbert spent a long time being talked about as one of the best Dark pairs. When I started around second anniversary, he was still considered respectable. Now he is laughable. If you need Dark, go get Akari, that'll fix it. Hilbert just has so much trouble with survival. Even with 2/5, the recoil is so severe that he tends to knock himself out before you want him to. And if you needed high DPS with recoil, BP Karen can do that by now. I don't respect H!Hilbert.

Halloween Morty Morty's one of those pairs I really wish were better. Spread burn, potential debuffs to attack per hit, infinite MP replenishment. Morty has actual skills. But. Morty's damage is also pretty bad, and his support as a Tech doesn't offer enough to really compete. Burn is still a fairly middling status, to the point I consider it worst in the game. And just attack debuffs, single-target even, does not cut it. He's fairly disappointing overall, which is sad because Mega Banette is so cool.

Halloween Caitlin "Oh boy, I can't wait to get Poison Zone, or maybe Ghost Rebuff!" No shut up you're getting Caitlin. Okay look, I'm biased, Caitlin is my favorite character, and this alt is my everything. But listen. She's actually exceptional, and over time, the value of Caitlin Stocks has only gone up.

Initially, Caitlin was considered a niche pick, because she couldn't buff crit, in the era of "crit is the most important stat." Instead, she only buffed every other relevant stat for a physical attacker, down to the accuracy. The compression of Atk/Spd/Acc on one button is especially tremendous. As the meta shifted, and grid expansions came about, and suddenly everything up to Lodge units could cap crit at the push of a button, suddenly Caitlin finds herself in a hilarious position, as a pair able to boost everything else they could want. With fairly respectable defenses, a metric ton of shields on mega evolution, built-in Vigilance, and options like Stalwart/Unbending, Caitlin has been a long-time staple of teambuilding for me. I will acknowledge yes, she's not a top dog at this point. Especially with SS Acerola and Argenta running around and supplying constant PMUN stacks. But the Atk/Spd combo on the same button is still, somehow, a rare trait. And accuracy buffing remains exceptionally rare. Caitlin offers a metric ton, and has always been severely underrated as a threat.

Halloween Allister Comparatively, I will shit on this kid all day. "But Ghost rebuffs-" no listen to me. Ghost types tend to be slow. Agatha, Shauntal, and SS Korrina are the only exceptions. Allister is slow as dirt. He compounds the issues within the type, and his value outside of Ghost types is being a kind of okay physical wall. He dishonors the Gourgeist name. Allister sucks, I use him sometimes for Gauntlet because 3/5 Allister can paralyze, but I do not respect him in the slightest.

Halloween Iris Iris, as a Poison type with DPS and a Zone, should stand out as a pick. Unfortunately, Iris is pretty poor as a Zone setter, and a nuke. Iris struggles to achieve her nuke independently due to slow debuffing that requires a specific grid node that's hard to afford around her damage nodes. And at present, all of the top Poison damage meta is physical. Her best special partners are Petrel, who few will have, and Drasna, who isn't even Poison. As a result, Iris is...fairly poor at present. I was really banking on Lusamine/Nihilego this year, it would've been the perfect complement, but instead...nothing. To be honest, Oleana is a better team supporter for damage thanks to her AoE rebuff and physical designation than Iris is. Which is. Sad.

Final Thoughts Get Caitlin. I say this shit every year, but if you're looking at this, get Caitlin. She is so goddamn good. Halloween, as a whole, tends to be fairly...middling. Like, even the picks from last year aged like milk. Morty doesn't get to do much, and Acerola and Hilbert are effectively without value in the modern meta. Only Caitlin has withstood the test of time, and if I'm being honest? I don't expect Phoebe or Roxanne to do better. Phoebe's already walking the same "niche support that doesn't do enough" line that many other seasonals have, while Roxanne has a strong nuke, but pretty poor DPS and slow buffing/debuffing support for a team. Even her Topsy Turvy effect is locked to sync, and thus a lot more difficult to manage. Caitlin is the supreme Halloween unit. The one that withstood the curse. And I think she should be rewarded for that. Maybe with your credit card information. So she can buy more costumed alts for herself.

#scout value #pokemon masters #halloween caitlin #halloween allister #halloween iris #halloween morty #halloween hilbert #halloween acerola

[dunnjacobson7]

Forex Automated Trading Systems - Real Or Fraud?

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#GAMESFORJOY.CO

[snowbunnywatching]

Taking the Game

This story was written by @no-questions-asked who has given me permission to post it on my blog. Apart from the pictures, I've contributed nothing to his story.

The students of each of St. Andrew's and St. Thomas' Schools were exemplary gentlemen and proper ladies. A polished upbringing rarely seen these days. Even their sports rivalry was chivalrous. One example was the Homecoming Game and the Homecoming Party. Each school would always host the other for its respective annual football game, and as a "gentleman’s wager" if the home team lost then the players would have their girlfriends or dates go with randomly picked members of the winning team to the party and they would stay home. However it was all in good fun because if the visiting team won they would just dance with the girl and at most give her a kiss on the hand at the end of the night when escorting her to her home. Like I said, old-school manners.

Gary, St. Andrew's starting quarterback, couldn't believe what he was hearing at the end of practice. “What do you mean we don't play St. Thomas for Homecoming?” Their coach had just informed them that the district school board had done away with what they deemed as practices that went against inclusion and had mixed other schools into the schedule, including public schools. They would instead be hosting Central High, an inner-city school, with a predominantly black student body.

The other St. Andrews players took this in stride and decided to keep their tradition for the dance going. They were confident they could best this opponent as well (they were a good team, after all). Gary had seen highlights of their defense though, and a little queasiness plagued his stomach.

Julia, Gary's high school sweetheart, looked like she had seen a ghost when she heard about these developments. "What?? It's one thing to be accompanied by guys like John and Tyler from St. Thomas. We know them socially after all. But guys from Central?? They're not like us, babe! You can’t just wager me like that."

"Jules, it would be racist and dishonorable if we treated them differently. This is about including them in all of our practices, even the symbolic dance wager. Besides, we'll win." Jules had no response to this. His words made sense, but she didn't have to like it. She did not respond to Gary's advances on their subsequent dates.

Gary ran for his life as the vicious Central defense went after him yet again. The score was close, but St. Andrews was losing. One player in particular, who Gary had learned was called Jay, had been pounding him into the ground all night. With each hit Julia had cried out from the sidelines in worry. After a nasty hit that Jay gave Gary right after he released the ball, Jay stood over him tauntingly and loudly boasted "I'mma take this game and then I’mma take your bitch!" before looking up and winking at Julia. Julia shuddered in disgust and looked away.

"Baby, please beat them!" Gary heard Julia plead from the sidelines during a timeout. But Gary's confidence wasn't so high anymore. Ironically, the game came down to the last play with the ball in Gary's hands, and as he prepared to make the throw he saw Jay approaching fast and flinched as he released the ball, throwing a horrible pass. Jay laughed at not even having to hit him to make Gary lose the game for his team.

That smile was still on Jay’s face as Gary "handed over" Julia at her place (as tradition dictated). Julia hadn't uttered a word all afternoon. Gary was hardly surprised that Jay had been "randomly chosen" to be her date. He was lost in thought about that when he suddenly saw Julia's eyes bulge out as Jay got close to her. When they turned to leave he saw what caused that. Jay's hand was firmly gripping Julia's ass. Gary was still to haunted from all the hits he received to say anything as they walked away.

Gary hardly slept a wink that night. He had left several messages and missed calls to Julia’s phone. There were no stories on her Instagram to give him a clue as to how the dance had gone. After scouring he finally found a girl's Instagram story that made him stop dead in his tracks. It was from late last night, probably near the end of the party. Julia was dancing with Jay pressed up behind her, very close. She did not look distressed at all. The camera then panned away and that was all Gary found. He couldn’t take it anymore and called her house.

"Ummm, Julia didn’t come home last night, Gary." Julia’s mom said in a nervous voice. She then changed her tone to a more hopeful one "she probably stayed over at a friend’s house." His heart sank.

He finally saw her Monday at school, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable talking to him. She said the dance was fine and she had just gone to Steph's house where her phone had died. "I've actually got plans afterschool" she told him before going quickly to another class. Gary stood speechless as an old car with tinted windows and blasting bass-heavy music pulled up to school and Julia hopped quickly inside. She didn't answer his numerous calls and texts.

"I heard you're transferring to Central!! Julia is this true??" Gary said a couple of weeks later. In that time, he had barely been able to get a word in with Julia. He had also noticed that she had now committed several dress code violations in the past days, and each day she’d hop into the same bass-blaring vehicle.

"Yeah, fuck this school. It’s so lame. Full of little prisses and whiteboys." She didn't seem phased by her own vulgar language.

It wasn't until several weeks after transferring that Julia finally unblocked Gary from Instagram, probably not considering him relevant. Gone were their pics in Martha’s Vineyard and the Hamptons. They were replaced by pics of a much different-looking Julia, sporting some alluring hairbraids, and usually with her hands all over her boyfriend: Jay. One picture he zoomed in on featured him flexing his arm while Julia gave the hulking bicep a kiss. Jay was looking at the camera with the same face of the time Gary had told him "…and then I'mma take your bitch!"

#story #no questions asked

[drwcn]

NEW!

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 11 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]

Lan Wangji knew his Uncle and the imperial court and the elders of the royal family were never going to be okay with him making Wei Wuxian one of his concubines. The servant status is one thing, but that's not the crux of the issue. The issue is that there's already a rumour circulating about how WWX is a wily fox whose sole purpose in life is to seduce and befuddle the prince. Xue Yang: quite a reputation you've cultivated for yourself. WWX: *kuzo's meme*.........ah yes, everything is all coming together now.

Lan Wangji is a smart boy though. He knows how to get what he wants. As Wei Ying inched towards full recovery from his whipping, the autumn hunt is upon them.

The autumn hunt in the royal hunts ground was a competition. Anyone invited could compete if they chose to, and of Lan Wangji's household, Jin Ziyan, Luo Qingyang and himself were in attendance. Mianmian, being his concubine and a woman, had two escorts/chaperones accompanying her for propriety, but flashed him dazzling smiles of gratitude upon her horse.

"I'm very grateful, dianxia, for your allowing this indulgence." "Of course," replied Lan Wangji from his saddle. "My Luo-furen should have what she wants." "Dianxia, ce-wangfu." Qin Su approached them and curtsied in proper form. "I wish you all best of luck in the hunt." Then to Mianmian, she said quietly, "Be careful, Qingyang." Jin Ziyan paid the two women no mind, but Lan Wangji saw the hand Qin Su had clandestinely wrapped around one of Mianmian's booted ankles. Oh...well, this is certainly a positive development.

The rest of the noble women not participating in the hunt rested in their tented pavilions, with Meng Yao as their hostess. They drank tea and ate sweets and enjoyed their free time to themselves. Meng Yao noted Wei Wuxian's absence from Jiang Yanli's side, as did several other noble women, but Jiang Yanli only smiled and said, "A-Xian has been living at my father's manor for several years and is an excellent marksman. Dianxia thought it a waste if he were kept from participating."

The truth of the matter is like this: when Wei Wuxian cheated and lied his way into Jiang-fu, he'd told Jiang Fengmian and his family that he'd lived most of his life by the charity of a hunter's family, and so had trained to hunt game in the wild. After the hunter's family died of some infectious illness that plagued the region, Wei Wuxian had supposed made his way into the city and found employment as a shop boy. He couldn't reveal that he'd been trained in martial arts, but there is no need to hide his skill as an archer. At first, it was so he could use archery as a common interest to get close to Jiang Fengmian's son Jiang Cheng, but Wei Wuxian soon realized that it could also be used as a way for Lan Wangji to cultivate further interest.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Wuxian stroked the snout of Lan Wangji's beloved ferghana horse and grinned. "You really want me to ride him?" "Mn." "You...won't be mad then, if I win?" Wei Wuxian's grin turned slightly wicked. "If I beat you?" Lan Wangji's brow twitched with interest, "Not at all. That's rather what I'm counting on." "Yeah? And why is that?" "Because while I can claim victory with the sword -" "- Very modest, you." Wei Wuxian teased, grinning, which earned him a subtle little glare. "- amongst my cousins, my marksmanship is not unrivalled. You may have a greater chance of winning with him. Huangxiong promised that whoever wins today's hunt will be granted one wish." A wish? Wei Wuxian mulled over this information. His own mission turned and circled in his mind. If I could but gain access to... ... Of course, Wei Wuxian glanced at the prince and the saw the light in his eyes. Lan Wangji is probably thinking of something entirely different.

And so it was inevitable that went the count of the hunt came in, Wei Wuxian's name was at the top. Lan Qiren's little mustache just about flew off his face the way he scrunched it up in displeasure.

Gentries, nobles, dukes and princes watched with envy and shock as a servant came forth to accept the Emperor's reward.

"Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang leaned close to Jiang Cheng while they watched from the sidelines as Wei Wuxian bowed before the Emperor. "Why do you look so smug?" Jiang Cheng played with the end of an arrow with an air of mock innocence, "I don't know what you're talking about?" Nie Huaisang pulled at the leather of his riding attire in discomfort - this was so not his style - and tsked, "I know you, Jiang-xiong, you're not subtle. What did you do?" "I was the one who told Lan Wangi that Wei Wuxian is an excellent archer when I went to visit Hanguang-fu." Nie Huaisang understood instantly, "Oh....oh I see..." "What? Don't judge me! You know what they did to him. String up like some unruly animal and whipped. I never agreed with my mother's plan to send him along with my sister anyway. Wei Wuxian may be lowborn but..." Jiang Cheng scowled. "He's too good for them. For Lan Wangji. He's clearly not going to do right by Wei Wuxian. I won't stand to see a perfectly good man wasted as some prissy prince's concubine instead of being where he could put his real skills to use." "Shhhhh, ancestors, Jiang-xiong, keep your voice down! Words like that are a great dishonor against bixia, you'll lose your head!" Jiang Cheng shrugged.

Xue Yang *at a later times*: so lemme get this straight, you won the Hunt, and then Lan Xichen asked you what you want as reward - WWX - as a good little servant I said "I want for nothing that wangye and Jiang-zhuzi hasn't already provided me" - XY *rolls his eyes* Right. And then Jiang Wanyin came out of nowhere and said - "陛下，魏婴乃微臣之家生子，是前管家魏长泽 的独子， 因幼年时父母过世一直遗留市井。上天庇佑，几年前父亲将他巡回。魏婴为人端正淳厚，虽未上过学堂，但头脑机智。陛下也看到了，他弓发出众， 是。。。如能加强训练，以后必会为我姑苏所用 - " Bixia, Wei Ying is this subject's home-born servant, the only son of our previous head of staff Wei Changze. Due to the unfortunate passing of his parents in his youth, he has been getting by doing odd jobs in the capital. Heavens be willing, Father was able to find him after these many years and brought him home. Wei Ying is kind and righteous; though never have been taught by scholars, he is sharp of mind. As bixia has seen, he is a great marksmanship, is ... If he could be granted proper training, he would be a great asset for Gusu in the future. - And what a waste it would be if you were left to twindle away within the confines of a harem. I bet Lan Wangji just loved that. The balls on Jiang Wangyin - I do love his style. WWX You're the only one. Jiang-shushu just about had a heart attack when Jiang Cheng dissed Lan Wangji in public. Madam Yu nearly popped a vein too. XY: Yeah well, he's got a point. You may be Jiang Yanli's companion, but you're not Lan Wangji's concubine, you're just a servant with a skill. Honestly why shouldn't they put you to better use than waiting to maybe spread your legs for a prince who might just as easily toss you aside after the newness fades. WWX *slaps him up the head* Rascal! I'm your shixiong. Don't be so rude. Anyways, Lan Zhan, he - he was willing to let me go. I think he loves me you know - XY: He what now - WWX: He said - Lan Wangji came to kneel beside Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin and bowed to his royal brother, "Huangxiong, Wei Ying is the peijia of my Jiang-furen, a servant of my manor. I... I long knew he is an excellent marksman and should have submitted his candidacy for the ranks but -" Lan Wangji looked at him then, eyes huge with something unreadable. "Jiang-xiao-jiangjun is right. Wei Ying is good, his mind is bright. He would be more suited to militia than...than within the walls of the inner court." "Wangye, have you....have you grown tired of Wei Ying -" "Wei Ying, no -" XY: Oh barf. So please tell me you chose to go to bingbu (ministry of war). WWX: Going to bingbu was never the assignment. If yifu wanted me in the ministry of war, I would've infiltrated them from the start. I refused. And it had the intended effect. "No?" Lan Xichen leaned forward curiously. "Joining the ranks will elevate your rank to that of a subject of the imperial government, and if you are truly as skilled and talented as my brother and Jiang-xiao-jiangjun say, you may rise yet to stand in my court as an officer of the imperial military. You will have your own commission, your own manor, marry, have children - all things which will be forbidden to you if you remain as you are now. As you are male, you cannot provide for Hanguang-fu any offspring, and your low-born status has precluded you from the position of consort or even vice-consort. Have you considered your options carefully? " "I understand bixia, and my decision is made. Nothing would please me more than to stay by wangye's side. I regret nothing." XY: >_> And A this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you're increasingly horny for Lan Wangji? WWX: Of course not. Because of Lan Qiren, I couldn't advance in Hanguang-fu. But now that Lan Xichen had given me his royal decree, I am Lan Wangji's sanctioned mianshou. XY: *insert eye emoji* So...y'all fucked? WWX *wistful, thinking about the night he spent at the autumn palace after the hunt* : We did, you pervert. Ya happy now? *WWX sighed* But I know who we are and what I must do. Yifu needs me by Lan Wangji's side, for what reasons I do not yet know. No matter how he and I are now... one day it will

all end. XY: *stares into the camera like he's on the office*

Note: yifu = Wen Ruohan, WWX's adoptive father.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #xue yang #without envy #cql ficlet #corie fics

[kyberconfessions]

No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 4

Hello All! Sorry for the delay! My Hubby and I have had a busy month of July and I wasn’t able to keep to my schedule like I wanted too. Sorry about that. From Baseball games to Comic-Cons to Disney trips, we’ve been stupid busy. I am working furiously on the other chapters and hope to at least have some words on Cody soon! Y’all, not going to lie, the fact that there has been ZERO mention of him on The Bad Batch is killing me.

As Always:

This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and deals with anxiety, death, sex,  PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.

Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory) I should say this is NOT a Rex x Cody fic. There will be ZERO Clonecest on this blog or story. Reader is a consensual relationship with Rex and with Cody. Yes they share, yes they will eventually have sex together, but Cody and Rex are NOT in a relationship nor will they be intimate.

Rating: 18+

TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 4: It’s You.

You waited with your back to the door on Hondo's ship; another one was docked right outside, carrying the crew that had something either of you wanted. You took a deep breath, adjusting your blaster in your thigh holster and checking over your clothes before putting on your helmet. The base of it was a black Ubese helmet, edged with black dyed bantha hair and painted to resemble a Kaleesh skull in white.  The edges of the white skull were rimmed in a dark red and the faux eyes were painted an electric green, almost making them glow.The breather of the helmet was pointed down, tapering at the end and etched with designs reminiscent of a certain Kel Dor. Twin points also came down from the sides,  once again resembling a Kel Dor breather, but painted to look like the fangs of the Kaleesh skull. When you wore it, you were an incredibly fearsome sight to behold. 

Hondo had stepped out of the cockpit while brushing off his clothes, but when he saw you he went on and on in a poetic manner making you snort behind your mask, "Pretty Lady must you put on that horrid thing? How am I supposed to gaze upon your beautiful Visage? How am I to write songs of your shiny eyes if you insist on covering them? How am I to chant loudly into the heavens about the glory of your smile when all I see is that ugly thing staring back at me?" 

The sound that came out of the modulator was a loud crack of static. It wasn't lost on him though, and he waggled his brow at you, knowing he made you laugh.

"Hondo, one of these days I'm going to launch you out of an airlock. Then you'll be Wild Space's problem."

He laughed loudly, but before he could give a retort, the door-lock opened and the crew from the other ship began to board.

Immediately the hair on your neck stood up and your hackles raised. It was time to go into heartless bounty hunter mode, another mask that became easier and easier for you to put on.

Hondo noticed your posture change and went to greet whoever had come aboard, stepping in front of your turned back. Whether it was to hide his best and most terrifying asset or to put space between you and them for your sake, you never knew. You liked to think it was his way of still protecting you, even after all these years. It probably was.

"My friends! My friends! So good to see you again! Ezra Bridger! It has been too long!" 

You heard the cacophony of voices greeting him in a less than enthusiastic excitement. If these people were your friends, you would have laughed again. But you didn't have friends.     From the sound of it, there were four people behind you. Nothing difficult to take down, but not something you should be careless with. There was something off about one of them though, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but they were...familiar.

"Allow me for introductions! This tall, imposing creature behind me is my associate, bodyguard, smuggler, chief pilot, chief mechanic, artistic muse, platonic soulmate, oldest friend, and beautifully deadly bounty hunter, all rolled into one.  And this band of colorful characters are the crew of the infamous Ghost!" Hondo waved his hands in a grandiose manner between the group and your back; this was a well rehearsed situation that you both had done several times, though for whatever reason, he decided to over exaggerate your titles. Normally he would do the talking and you would scare the clientele. And if you had too, if they had something that you knew belonged to them, you'd kill them. Nothing would keep you from the last remnants of the ones you loved and lost.

"Ahh, Hondo? Does your associate have a name? Or talk? Are they even awake? Are they just going to stand there?" You heard a boy's voice, a cockiness only found in the young lacing every word. 

"Ezra." A woman, probably someone important, chastised the boy.

You waited for Hondo's signal for you to turn, but the door opened once more and you heard one more set of boots and something soft, furry, stepping across the steel. A voice spoke. A Lassat. Dangerous creatures, you had seen a few when you were still a young Padawan with your old Master. Before the war. Before they died. Back when your biggest concern was the eventual Trials. You knew a fight wasn't going to be easy and you hated the idea of killing an already dying race. But you would if you had too.

The Lassat male was arguing with someone about something, but you weren't paying attention.

Hondo touched your shoulder softly, your signal to turn. He had spent the time making pleasantries and lulling them into a false sense of comfort, probably. He could have been talking about the weather on Jakku for all you cared. You were more concerned about making sure the straps on your holsters were open, giving you easy access to draw.

Slowly you moved, letting them see just how dangerous you were, how in control of your body you were, how much they should fear the creature behind the helmet. But, you halted mid spin.

All of the blood drained from your face, your mouth went dry, your throat tightened up, and you were overcome with such anger and gut wrenching sorrow you thought you would snap.

The man that walked in with the Lessat was wearing HIS armor. The armor you had spent 15 years looking for.

You blanked. 

Somewhere there was yelling and cries to stop, but you couldn't make it out. Your head was spinning and it felt like there was cotton in your ears and as tunnel vision took over, everything knocked your senses for a loop. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but you grabbed both your blasters, turned fully, and pointed them at the man. Half the crew jumped out of the way, the others pointed their weapons at you, and Hondo tried to reason with both sides, standing with his back to you while the man had his own blasters trained on your head. Hondo quickly got out of the way of the four barrels, still trying to diffuse the situation. You couldn't understand what he was saying, everything sounded so dull and muted.

No, wait. Those weren't just any blasters. You would know those DC-17s anywhere. 

"HOW DARE YOU!"

 Someone was screaming. You couldn’t tell who it was or where it was coming from. It was garbled and cracking, a mechanical sound. It hurt your head. You just wanted everything to stop, just for a moment. But the world kept spinning and you felt like you were going to pass out any moment. You just wanted everything to be quiet, you needed to think, you just wanted a moment to figure out what was going on. Why was it so loud? Why did everything hurt? You just wanted everyone to just be still. Just be still, if only for a second. 

You could feel your breathing pick up, that tightening fear in your chest, that ache that gripped your heart and threatened to pull it from your body. ‘Just be quiet, please, please, be quiet. I can’t...I need to think, I need to think..’

"HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS HELM!” More screaming,  “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO HE WAS?! DO YOU?! HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS ARMOR AS YOUR OWN! HOW DARE YOU STAND THERE AND KNOW NOTHING OF HIM!" Maker, the screaming was coming from you. You were yelling at him, venomous spit falling from your mouth, words meant to shame and kill. Your blasters were trained on his chest, fingers laying on the triggers. 

"TAKE IT OFF OR I WILL RIP IT FROM YOUR BROKEN CORPSE!"

You could feel something wet on your cheeks but you didn't know what it was or where it came from.  Did this man kill Rex?! Did he rip his beloved armor from his broken body? Did he leave him to rot in some cursed field? Or did he just take it from his already forgotten skeleton? Your heart beat a mile a minute, you were sweating and your whole body shook in anger, but your hands never wavered, blasters trained perfectly on the man. How dare this cretin dishonor Rex, dishonor his memory. 

"YOU WILL NEVER INSULT HIS MEMORY AGAIN! TAKE IT OFF!!"

You were panting and your modulator was straining under the volume of your voice.

No one lowered their weapons. No one spoke. No one moved a muscle. All that could be heard were your wheezing sobs through the helm.

 There was a beat. And then another. And then the man did something unexpected.

You just knew you were going to have to kill everyone. You just knew you were going to peel bloodied, beloved armor from some backwater nothing. 

But when he slowly lowered his arms, holstering the DC-17s, you faltered. Was he giving up so easily? Perhaps he didn't want bloodshed after all. Good. But it didn't make you lower yours. Nor did it make the others lower theirs.

Slowly, like he was trying to coax a scared lothcat, the man raised his open hands to the old helm covered in hatch marks with jaig eyes and pulled it off. 

First you saw weathered skin tanned from the sun, a white beard trimmed nicely, then a strong nose and finally golden eyes, eyes you had seen a million times before. Eyes that haunted you every time you went to sleep. Eyes you thought you would never see again.

When he had taken the helm completely off and tucked it under his arm, he spoke. And everything inside of you shattered.

"My name is Rex. Captain of 501st regiment in the Grand Army of the Republic. This is my armor that was issued to me almost 20 years ago. I don't know who you think I am, but I can assure you, this is my armor."

The others watched you, weapons trained. No one moved, no one spoke, no one breathed. You, on the other hand, felt everything rushing back at you full force. When he spoke, his voice was a punch to your gut, knocking the wind out of you, causing you to hyperventilate.  Your blasters, still trained on him, began to shake violently in your hands.

You were panting and your eyes blurred from all of the new tears. Panic rose high in your throat, cutting off your breathing. It can’t be. How could it be? He died. The Empire recorded him dying after Mandalore. You were there, you saw the absolute destruction. No one survived that.

Involuntarily you dropped your weapons and they clattered loudly to the durasteel ground, but your arms were still stretched out, still holding onto phantom guns. 

You inhaled sharply, your modulator cracking in a loud hiss. Slowly, trying to control the tremors that wracked your body, you moved your hands to your own helm and unlatched the buckles on the sides. There was another hiss as the airtight seals released the pressure and vented.

"What's going on..." the young boy started. "Hush, Ezra Bridger." Hondo cut him off, silencing him with a hand on his shoulder as you and Rex stared one another down.

You lifted your helm up and then let it fall to the floor, a loud clank shaking the silence between you all.

Rex sucked in a breath and released it in a harsh shudder, his mouth hanging open. "Mesh'la," he whispered; he could feel his knees giving out, causing him to stumble forward and push his way through his crew.

His eyes were as wide as saucers and glistening. Fat, heavy tears tracked down his face and fell into his beard as he reached shaking hands out to you. He paused for a moment, afraid that if he touched you, you would disappear like every dream before. But carefully his hands gripped your face, gently turning it side to side, taking in the scars and faint crows feet and wisps of grey hairs you now sported. Your age and harsh life showed, but you were still just as beautiful, just as ageless, just as perfect as he remembered. Still the same eyes that he dreamed of every night. 

You couldn’t breathe. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs and every nerve ending burned. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, creating a painful rush like being thrown under the oceans. Every part of you felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move. Slowly your shaking hands gripped his wrists and held him close. Your body tried to take a shuddering breath, but it only came out as a choked sob while you squeezed your eyes shut.

As the noise left you, Rex pulled you close, his mouth over taking yours in a passionate kiss, full of tongue and teeth. Your hands left his wrists and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as he continued to hold your face.

"Rex. I thought....I thought you were...Rex," you whispered into his lips between kisses.

"I searched for you, Cyare. I looked everywhere. I thought you died. I thought Cody.."

Your breath hitched at his name, making Rex pull you impossibly closer. You both stood there, wrapped in eachothers arms, crying, kissing, whispering love to one another, completely oblivious to the others. 

You weren't sure if your knees failed you, or if it were his, but one of you fell to the floor, taking the other with them, still wrapped in each other, crying and holding on for dear life. 

The Twi'lek woman quietly ushered the others, a man and a Mandalorian girl, along with the boy and Lessat, out. Hondo followed behind, a smug smile on his face, ridiculously proud of himself, giving you both much needed privacy.

#Rex x Reader #Rex #Cody #Cody x Reader #Rex x Reader x Cody #Hondo x Reader Platonic #Hondo x Platonic!Reader #Rebels fic #clone wars fic #Poly #Jedi!Reader #No Matter Where You Go I Will Find You #Star Wars #Reader is an Ex-Jedi #Reader is now a Bounty Hunter #Big reveal #finally meeting Rex

[herotome]

Devlog #45

Tadah, here's a screencap of Griffin I made for a thing on twitter. :)

I've been dragging my feet on sprite/CG expression work, but I'm sure I'll get around to it soon... Weird how I can care so intimately about having expressive characters, yet dread the prospect of drawing it all myself!

On the narrative front, I'm at the point where I'm about halfway done with Dart's scene, and I'm just kinda figuring out what else to add before fully moving onto Jade. I hit this exact same point while drafting Griffin and Warden, so it's certainly part of the process by this point. e_e

I alsooo didddd go back and flesh out some content to Griffin's scene - most notably adding the option to "Give Griffin a rad high-five" and to ask about his relationship to another character in the worst way humanly possible:

"Are you boning?"

In other news, I spent a full day working on the game's GUI:

Starting with research on how AAA games create intuitive buttons/navigation menus. Most notably I've saved screencaps from this fantastic article comparing Doom and Dishonored. Some of yall may know that I do not have any education in UI/UX design, so I'm doing my best to study independently.

I put in some insensitive button states into the save screen.

Added a small a highlight border and glow to existing navigation buttons (seen here on the main menu button), to bring more attention to hovered states:

I FINALLYYYY implemented that text change option and can now freely switch between OpenDyslexic and OpenSans. Took several tries and crashes... bc I didn't put "-Regular" after the names.....

Adjusted the height of the choice buttons HOPEFULLY for the final time.

I linked the Options and Save menu screens together, so you can flip quickly between the two. This, combined with the new hover button highlights, combined with me deciding to rename half the buttons... meant I had to remake a lot of buttons... @_@ Probably would've been avoidable if I did things differently, but I survived.

I removed the player name/avatar from the title screen's options menu. The title screen exists independently of the player's playthroughs, which means the name/avatar will come up as "default" every time -- could confuse someone into thinking their data is corrupted or deleted. So, player name/avatar will now only appear when accessing options in-game.

Finally, in a strange bout of success-fueled inspiration, I made a functional mock-up for the logbook! The spacing isn't perfect, but it works. :o Scrolls smoothly and everything.

And since I've alluded to it so much, here's what the Options screen looks like right now:

Almost done. Mainly I'll want to switch out the default pink renpy bars, add in the icons Alice made, and work on designing the on/off buttons to be more intuitive/cool/animated. The functionality and formatting is all there, sans finishing touches.

(... Okay no I lied bc I haven't quite coded in the "hide CGs" button yet, but I will, I will. 😂 That's the ONLY button that is just for show rn - I gotta figure out how the function will work with an eventual CG album, make sure those wires don't get crossed.)

Pffahh... okay that's enough. I might have done some other stuff but this is long enough as is. Since this update is delayed by a couple of days, I'm not sure if I wanna do next week's update on Tuesday as usual, or also delay that to give myself a full week... Ah well, we'll see!

I hope you’re all staying safe and keeping warm.

Much love,

Wudge.

PS personal note, I'm gonna try to update my language to use "need" less often - less "I need to [do XYZ]," more "I want to [do XYZ]," etc etc. Should be beneficial for my mental health.

#herotome update #interactive fiction #oelvn #amare #english visual novel #upcoming game #amaregame #dating sim