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dangermousie · 5 months

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2023 End of Year Post - cdrama edition

Yes, we have a lot of December left, but I don't think anything else I want to check out will air before 2024 hits (it's cdrama so caveat is - you never know.)

This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it's not on the list. This was a pretty good cdrama year, all in all.

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

30 legend of twin flower - Not dignifying that drama with capital letters, as the only capital that should be associated with this is capital punishment - which is what watching this feels like.

29 Dominator of Martial Gods - sounds like a bdsm gay porn title. Would probably be better acted and written if it was.

28 Beauty of Resilience - you'd need a lot of said resilience to sit through this incoherent, barely acted mess. The thing that I remember the most other than my annoyance is all the jingly-jangly head gear on JJY. Perhaps they could have sold some of them and spent the money on a better script.

27 Divine Destiny - if you think you have too many brain cells and want to get rid of some, boy do I have a drama for you!

26 Wanru’s Journey - honestly it's probably tied with SEL - I mean it's worse but it has actors who are nowhere as well known and a fraction of SEL's budget. Still, this is a big fat nope. I will not say what I think of Aoi Rupeng's "acting" or I'd have to put money in the curse jar.

25 Snow Eagle Lord - Gulinazha's stone face, nonsense plot, terrible CGI. Take your pick as to why this is terrible.

24 Scent of Time - it was uneven but fun but then that ending was dumb enough to destroy the whole thing. Show me on the doll where common sense hurt you, makers!

23 Royal Rumors - Jeremy Tsui and Meng Ziyi are utterly wasted in this nothing trifle of a drama.

22 Legend of Anle - I had high expectations but alas. This is the drama version of color beige. There is nothing offensive about it but nothing good either. Mediocre actors are mediocre, good actors become mediocre, this is just a waste of our finite time on planet earth.

21 Romance on the Farm - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like this wholesome slice of farming family life, but it's tailored to trigger every one of my "nope" opinions.

20 Back from the Brink - if I were 12, it would be my favorite thing. I am not 12.

19 Journey of Chong Zi - objectively a terrible drama with plot holes the size of Mars and a leading lady whose face has apparently frozen when the wind changed. But I am a total sucker for the trope of upright shizun falling for his demonic disciple and going mental so here we are. Objectively, garbage, subjectively my precious!

18 Love you Seven Times - just call poor Ding Yuxi "Atlas," he carried this mess so hard.

17 Blooming Days - trashy dogblood harem fight fun throwback. It's not that great (and the fact that it was shredded doesn't help) but it's probably the last gasp of that genre for the foreseeable future, so I am grading on a curve.

16 The Starry Love - a fun fantasy where the secondary OTP stole the thunder but overall a really solid fantasy xianxia romance.

15 The Longest Promise - it could have been better - the secondaries were unbearable and there was too much of them and what they did with Alen Fang's character still gives me rage fits, but the main couple was impeccable and lovely and I rooted so hard for them.

14 Chang Feng Du/Destined - visually gorgeous, solidly acted, impeccable first half. Bland as hell second half. Win some, lose some.

13 Circle of Love - this drama is a nonsense trash heap on fire. After a typhoon hit it. It was also the most entertaining, addicting drama on this whole list.

12 Hidden Love - the sole modern on this list, this story has barely any plot but it made me care about the young, decent lovers so hard.

11 Choice Husband - starts out wacky, continues with angst and blood and happy ending. I loved it, but I've always had a soft spot for melo and schemers turning devoted.

10 Pledge of Allegiance - bromance, super solid acting, visuals, a really dark take on officials and the world. Insanely underrated.

9 Provoke - a truly fun Republican revenge and love tale, showing that short format can be wonderful.

8 Gone with the Rain - some of the secondary characters are rage-inducing (hi there, cardboard boy!) but the scheming, ruthless, vulgar FL is amazing and her slowburn with her age gap general who is delighted by her out-there-ness is great!

7 Wonderland of Love - Fei Wo Si Cun goes wholesome and the result is surprisingly entertaining. Battle couple, glorious visuals, a fast paced plot. It's the first Xu Kai drama I enjoyed in years (and he plays a rare cdrama ML it would be pretty neat to pair up with in rl.)

6 My Journey to You - that ending is infuriating (and I am OK with open endings if done properly) but what a visual feast, probably the most gloriously shot drama on this list, and that's a tough competition. Also it packs a hell of a lot of couples and familial and adversarial relationships into its slim running time; assassin lady won over by a gentle man is my favorite trope and so this is extra great.

5. Till the End of the Moon - the ending is a rage-inducing disaster for me, but this drama was the most incredibly emotionally intense, visually eye popping experience. It was deeply flawed but when it was amazing, it was like nothing else in its visuals, its characters and its narratives. It took insane risks; some paid off and some did not, but it was glorious.

4. Story of Kunning Palace - I don't often care for reverse harem stories but this one was such fun - the main OTP was glorious (strong FL, unhinged ML) but honestly everything about this was just so excellently done.

3. The Ingenious One - the most adult drama on this list. Smart protagonists, intelligent plot, emotions that felt true, this is a revenge and a mystery and found family and goes into so many directions you do not expect (Su Mengyu's PTSD after his first kill - that is something you never see in dramas, definitely not prolonged and profound - not like this.) If I was to say which drama was objectively the best on this list, as opposed to favorite, it would be this.

1 (tie) Lost You Forever 1 - this is an exquisite emotional jewel of a story about damaged people moving forward, with damage always present - their past informs their present and always will. The narrative about Xiao Yao and three very different men in her life makes me think that it's an equivalent of a neutron bomb going off right before the main narrative starts and now we are watching the survivors wander in the wreckage. This is very high fantasy setting but it's one of the most emotionally human narratives out there.

1 A Journey to Love - everything I ever wanted - assassins, ride or die adult OTP with genuine believable conflicts, great and complex secondaries, beautiful fights. Oh, and yeah Liu Shi Shi domming the hell out of every man in a ten mile radius, as she should.

FAVORITE DRAMA

It's a tie between Lost You Forever Part 1 and A Journey to Love. LYF1 is a bona fide art piece but it's only part 1 and who knows if part 2 will be any good (seeing the huge ep number cut, I have my doubts) and so it's incomplete. AJTL is an old school wuxia romance with incredibly competent, adult people in love and great cast of secondaries. I can't pick.

WORST DRAMA

romance of twin flower - this is a drama that should not exist. If I could hex everyone involved with it, I would. It's a terrible, stupid, shrill, badly acted drama to start with, but where it really is catapulted into stratosphere of horror is that is took my very favorite non-danmei web novel of all time, a smart and complicated tale with incredible protagonists and turned it into that barftastic abomination. Peng Xiao Ran kept making horrible drama after horrible drama but I kept giving her a chance because of Goodbye My Princess but after this disaster, I've had to accept GMP was a fluke and she is on my "if she's in it, I am out” list. Ding Yuxi is not that far yet (his performance in Seven Lifetimes was the one thing carrying that mess afloat) but he's on freaking thin ice. Anyway, I like to pretend this drama does not exist.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

It was hard because there were so many I loved this year - Deng Wei's traumatized, gentle Seventeen from LYF1 (if someone told me I'd swoon and weep for a character played by Deng Wei, I'd have told them to examine their brains asap), Liu Yuning's incredibly capable, deadly, contained Ning Yuanzhou from AJTL, Zhang Linghe's unhinged Xie Wei from SoKP, Chen Xiao's schemer with a heart Yun Xiang from TIO.

But ultimately, it couldn't be anyone else but Luo Yunxi as Tantai Jin/Demon God/Ming Ye/Cang Jiumin in Till the End of the Moon. He was everything - a demon, a saint, a martyr, a monster, a tormented abuse victim, a savior, joyful, unhinged, smart, pitiable. It was the cdrama performance of the year for me. Luo Yunxi even in a mediocre role is impressive but in a complex (series of) role(s) designed for his strengths, he is a force of nature.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Xiao Yao (Lost You Forever Part 1). Once again, there were runner ups - Bai Lu's smart a little evil FL in Kunning, the gloriously unhinged assassin domme Liu Shi Shi in AJTL, Esther Yu's assassin longing for a different life in MJTY etc etc etc. But Xiao Yao's damaged, difficult, very self-aware woman stole my heart. I was skeptical going in because I haven't enjoyed a Yang Zi performance in a long time, but she was the wounded beating soul of this incredible drama.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Where do we start? How about all of Seventeen's (LYF1) monster family? His brother, who tortured him for years physically and emotionally to such a degree his body is a horror map and his personality is permanently altered because "mommy liked you better." Psycho mother who created a situation where the kids were going to turn on each other and "let's get my grandson raped" grandma. Where is a well-placed meteorite when you need one.

FAVORITE SHIP

Xiao Yao/Seventeen, LYF1. Yes, a ship of characters played by Yang Zi and Deng Wei is my favorite. Leave me alone, I am on my tenth helping of crow already. They are both incredibly damaged, barely functioning survivors who find what they need in the other - he finds a savior and someone who sees him as a man and rebuilds himself around her and she finds someone who will always put her first and only, and subsume himself in her. Is it healthy? No. Does it make sense for them and is it making them slowly functional? Yes.

Runner up: Ren Ruyi/Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL - two adults, so competent, so chemistry full. She has so much damage and so little normalcy but is so strong and he is oddly gentle (in between murders) and incredibly self-reflective. They are each other's mirrors and I love them.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Su Mingyu/Ke Menglan, The Ingenious One - the idealistic merchant who wants to join jianghu until he sees its horrors firsthand and a slave entertainer who wants security but decides she wants him more. They are gorgeous and glorious and wholesome and I adore them.

Runner up: Liu Gong Quan/Ming Zhu, The Ingenious One - that drama was a shippy gift, especially impressive considering it wasn't even romance-centric. He's the officer who has to bring down her treasonous father but loves her. Delicious.

Another runner up is Chao Feng/Qian Kui, the angelic good girl and the scheming bad boy in The Starry Love. They stole the drama from the main OTP for me.

NOTP

Scent of Time endgame. What the hell was even that. It made NO sense.

FAVORITE SCENE

So many good scenes this year - Tantai Jin taking apart Li Susu in prison in TTEOTM, the OTP fighting in perfect sync and insane rhythm in the gorge battle in AJTL, Chen Ruoxuan's character stopping the execution in Pledge, Yan Lin's coming of age in Kunning, the poison/antidote "gamble" in MJTY, Cang Xuan detoxing in LYF1. But I think ultimately, me being who I am, my favorite scene is Xiao Yao kissing Seventeen's damaged, scarred knee to show he is in no way inferior for her. AAAAA!

In terms of pure jaw dropping visuals tho nothing will ever beat Ming Ye’s battle against the Devil God in TTEOTM.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL. He's sexy as hell (that height, that way he moves in battle) but he's also so incredibly competent, so adult, so self-reflective and so attracted to a woman for her strength. He also gets whumped on the reg. Anyway, my hormones are ready.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Gong Yuanzhi (My Journey to You) - I loved the unhinged, brocon poison boy. He was everything. Also Yan Lin (Kunning) - talk about sunshine; I totally got why all these people felt they needed to save him.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

My Journey to You - what the HELL was that ending?

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

legend of twin flower - that is, stab it with scissors like it stabbed the novel until it's dead.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Till the End of the Moon - they clearly cut stuff to fit into the new regs about runtime and it made the last 1/5 rather abrupt. Gimme!

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

The emperor cannot be irredeemable. WTF, China, you are a communist country!

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

This is the year of a ML who yearns to be dommed by his FL. Long may it continue.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

The Legend of Anle - the novel had a great plot, the cast were all actors I either enjoy a lot or somewhat and we got - whatever that soggy piece of wonderbread toast was.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

LYF1 - I only checked out to mock because nobody could explain the story to me and nobody in the cast did anything I like either ever or in years. And then I fell utterly and completely in love and had to eat so much delicious crow.

2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

Ancient Love Song is the only one on that list. It looks really good, I just need to brace myself.

BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023

The Imperial Doctoress - best slowburn and pining and glorious character development and adult leads.

MOST ANTICIPATED

Anticipating any nonaired cdrama is a mug's game but if they air, I will definitely check out all the Fox Matchmaker dramas, LYF2, JoL2 and The Last Immortal. If Prisoner of Beauty ever is allowed out of the vault (dubious), it goes on the list too.

#cdrama #lost you forever #a journey to love #till the end of the moon #my journey to you #choice husband #provoke #the starry love #the ingenious one #wonderland of love #story of kunning palace #gone with the rain

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thezombieprostitute · 3 months

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Dream Come True - Part 6

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Kidnapping, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

“So where are we at with identifying the culprit?” Steve’s voice was tight, even over speakerphone.

“Jake’s identified the hacker,” Curtis reported. “But we’re still nowhere closer to finding out what they want or who they’re working for.”

“Has anyone tried contacting the hacker,” Bucky asked from the phone.

“If we did that we could alert their boss,” Mace warned. “That could get Ran killed if we’re not careful.”

You were sitting with Jake, listening to the conversation. Curtis had initially not wanted you to partake but you had to present your case to the Bosses, backed up by Jake’s data. You fidgeted nervously, feeling helpless.

“Jake did manage to get a foothold in hacker’s bugs so we can hear anything that they hear,” Curtis continued. “Is there a way you can call him about something? Maybe get a code phrase from him?”

Everyone heard Bucky curse at that, “the idiot never learned them. Insisted he’d never need them.”

“So,” Steve started, “we’ve got a possible hostage situation where Ransom is being watched closely and he was only able to communicate with Teach?”

“That’s actually a good point,” Mace perked up. “Why did he send those to her? To her apartment, specifically? Why wouldn’t he send, or something similar, to someone in the family? Or even to the cybercafe where he knew she worked?”

“Probably because she’s not in the family,” Bucky pondered aloud. “Anything he sent to us, legitimate side of things or not, would be flagged for suspicion. They don’t know she’s connected to us.”

“Then I can go in,” you blurt out. All heads in the room snapped to look at you. Instead of letting yourself be intimidated, you continued, “I…I could go in under the guise of angrily returning his gifts. I’ll wear something he’ll recognize as acknowledgement of his code…something one of his characters would’ve worn.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “There are too many unknowns here.”

“She might be our best bet,” Steve intervened. “Teach, how will you know if your message is getting across?”

“Well, Jake’s only identified audio trackers, right? What if I were able to write a question or something while yelling at him about the gifts? Maybe even write some cards out beforehand to make it easier?” While Mace and Jake nodded acknowledgement and thought about it, you could feel your confidence withering under the intensity of Curtis’s glare.

“I don’t know what other practical options we have,” Bucky commented.

“NO,” Curtis snarled. “We’re not putting an outsider in danger! She’s not part of the family, she shouldn’t be risking herself like this.” While his words were for everyone else, his eyes never left you. You’d never seen him so worked up before. It gave you an idea as to why his people tended to follow orders over arguing with him.

“We have audio,” Steve interjected. “She can set up some code phrases or words of her own and let us know what’s going on.” Curtis opened his mouth to say something but Steve cut him off, “and if you try saying no again, Curtis, I’ll leave you out of the planning. Especially if you have no better alternatives.” Curtis clenched his jaw, still glaring at you. Part of you wanted to shy away from him, but you needed to show him you could back up your talk so you stayed firm.

“What are some possible things you could fit into a natural conversation to give us updates,” Mace asked you.

“Um…well, if I call him “Mr. Drysdale”, like I always did, it’ll mean everything’s okay. If I call him “Ransom”, it’ll mean there’s something wrong but I can’t identify it. If I call him “Hugh”, I’m telling you I’m in danger, please come get me now. Do you think you can work with that?”

Mace nodded and added, “if there are other people there, complain about working for him for so many years, using the number of years to tell us how many there are.” You nod in understanding.

“I’ll call Destroyer to set her up with a car,” Bucky chimed in. “He’ll make sure it has no identifiers that can mark her as suspicious. Be ready to go in thirty, Teach.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, just loud enough to make sure he can hear you. You’re still faltering under Curtis’s silent deathglare. You see him twitch at your words and a bit of pain seeping into his eyes.

You pull up into the driveway and put the car in park before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Jake, Mace and Hal ran you through a bunch of possible conversation scenarios to help you practice your improv and keep your cool.

Curtis seemed to withdraw, focusing instead on getting you the items you needed. He gathered all of the gifts from your apartment to put in the car. He also picked up the four-leaf clover earrings and the Celtic-shield-knot talisman you needed to convey, in Ransom’s code, that the message had been received. As much as his stares made you uncomfortable before, as you left you wished he’d at least look at you.

You take a deep breath, “no going back,” you tell yourself. You step outside the car and grab the gifts before heading inside. You were too stressed to stand and wait after knocking or ringing the bell so you opt to lean into the energy and slam open the door. You stomp towards Ransom’s office where you see him pacing back and forth.

“Mr. Drysdale,” you scold. Ransom’s head snaps to you, he almost seems relieved.

“Ah, Sweetheart,” he purred, “you got my gifts!” He walks closer to you and you see a piece of paper in his hand.

“Yes, Mr. Drysdale. And I’m here to return them to you. I told you, I’m not going to work for you again.” As you speak you hold out your own pre-written card that asks, “someone’s listening?”

Ransom nods, his body language conflicting with his entreating tone, “oh but Angel, you know how well I treat you! No one makes you come like I do.”

“Mr. Drysdale!” Your eyes flash with irritation but he holds out his hands, placatingly, complete with the note you’d seen earlier.

As you take the note he continues, “come on, Angel. I can pay you more and you can get back to worshiping my cock like you did before. Please! You’ve ruined me for other women with that gorgeous, meaty ass.”

Without thinking you smack him hard across the face, “Mr. Drysdale, you will never speak to me again. If you even think about sending me anything else, I’ll get a restraining order!” You turn around and storm out, the note now in your purse. Ransom takes the opportunity to get some ice on his face, hoping he won’t get yet another bruise.

You return to the car and drive away as fast as you safely can. Your eyes are tearing up so you can’t drive too fast. When you feel you’re a safe distance away, you pull into a parking lot and catch your breath. You open up the note and text a photo of it to Jake. You can barely read it because of the tears that keep falling. You hope it’s a good enough photo before you put the note back in your purse and give yourself a minute to catch your breath.

You’re about to turn the car back on and head back when someone taps on your window. Startled, you turn and see a man with bright blue eyes and a thick mustache smiling at you. You roll down your window just a little so you can hear him.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he leers at you. “What’s a lady like you doing out here by yourself?”

“If you can’t tell me why you’re bothering me, I’m just going to drive off,” you scowled.

“No need for that,” he assures. “I just figured since you told off your boss, you could use a new man to take care of those needs for you. And you are just my type.”

Your eyes widen at his words and you go to start the car. He flashes his gun at you and you freeze up.

“Careful, there, Pumpkin,” I get that you’ve been through a bad breakup with Ran, but I’ll treat you right. If you behave.”

“Um,” you hesitate, visibly shaking. “Can I…can I text my friends? They’re expecting a message of some kind. I’ll just tell them I’m making up with him so they don’t go looking for me?”

“I get to read the message before you send it.”

“Of course, Mr…”

He smiles, making your stomach churn, “just call me Lloyd, Pumpkin.”

“Yes, Lloyd,” you nod. You grab your phone and type out the message to what you hope is an unrecognizable number, before showing it to him.

“Making up with Hugh,” he reads aloud. “Succinct and efficient. I like your style. Go ahead and send it, then come on out of that car and let me show you a great time.”

You hit send and put the phone in your purse, making sure to carry the purse with you as you step out and he leads you to his own vehicle.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@lokislady82

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x insecure!reader #mafia!curtis everett #mob!curtis everett #curtis everett #plus size!reader #ongoing series

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tired-hellowl · 2 months

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here' a comprehensive list as to every problem I have with the current *unecessary characters known as 'Glitz and Glam'

Do they expand the story/worldbuilding in any meaningful way? Do they explore a new hidden dynamic/past conjunction with a differing character and is that explored meaningfully? What was the point of having them animated when Mammon can portray the same level of humiliation/degrading/on stage lack of positive reinforcements. 😐

I'm so sorry but I view these characters as necessary garbage that caused some animators arthritis via too many patterns, not enough screen time to have meat and potatoes worth of dialogue, or really any pretense within the story whatsoever and yes this extends towards every female character on screen but let's not worry about that !!! Even if they are IMPLIED to be from the ring of envy-a color or ring we haven't seen nor meaningfully conveyed to the audience that it even is possible to go in/exists- it isn't conveyed to the audience well enough besides the visual implication of colors???? Instead of having shitty b-plots that go nowhere via Stolas and Blitz goofing off in seeing stars, Moxxie and Millie getting C-plots for no reason, or loona getting a rabies shot- all of that time could have been exploring hell, going to different rings, focusing on other characters besides the main 5, literally I would prefer a quiet episode like BoJack Horsemans 'Fish out of Water'where we can actually see the personalities of the main characters be appreciated and shown to us but that's never gonna happen :/

What I've been worried about is not even the on screen racism/out of touch 'rap/hip-hop parody' leaves a terrible taste in my mouth, if that isn't enough then the sexualization/implication of an incest type dynamic and nothing else besides fetish bait with these characters constantly grabbing one another and not really acting like siblings moreso someone who has never had siblings attempting to write sibling banter and failing terribly :/

Why do you have a problem with 'Klown Bitch' it's so catchy! Uhm, no??? I feel bad for anyone who attempts to defend helluva/hazbin as good modern musicals let me grit my teeth in silence as to the glorification over white people dominating black culture

HERES A HISTORY OF FEMALE HIPHOP ARTISTS: X

Pictured above is very old concept art about twin characters and its the same hairshape viv kept to transfer over to glitz/glam- despite clearly being over designed and way too much going on Alá vivzie style. It just goes to show she recycles even from herself and not every design is always new hot and fresh :/ AND SPEAKING OF CONCEPT ART-

Also also don't forget salems' concept designs thst got passed even though they loon toony, loony, clown enough, and definitely majorly way easier to have animated besides the mess that is the current design meta ???

Love how you can clearly see the silhouettes being so easily identifiable comparably towards the actual amalgamated mess that is their current limbs attempting to hold onto their toothpick body for their head.

All this screams to me is viv using the artists thst try to come onto helluva and they try their best with what their given, viv only picks the best bits SHE thinks is worth her time rather then thinking about the audience or animating anything else besides overglorified white people rap 🤔

Also the episode literally presents its full internalized misogyny/racism within this episode because vivzie herself literally admitted to typing into script with a full chest that

'Women just ain't funny'

. . .

why present misogyny within the series if you as a creator aren't willing to tackle the subject matter? Why write about it or present it as if you're smart over including the joke in your script when it isn't even funny because it just further pushes women out of the entertainment/comedy business which mind you IS ALREADY VERY WELL MALE DOMINATED SO PUTTING OTHER WOMEN DOWN TO PUT YOURSELF UP ISNT HELPING YOUR CASE VIV???

So then what was the point of adding female clowns if all you were going to do with them was make fun of them out of their expense and then profit off of the fact that they are incest coded????????????

?????????Are we watching the same fucking series????????

#vivziepop critical #i'll add more later #helluva critique #helluva critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss is homophobic #helluva boss critical #i hate it here #anti hazbin hotel #anti spindlehorse #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #cw inc*st #I hate glitz and glam so much

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oleander-nin · 6 months

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Horrortober Day 15 - Hide(Yandere TMNT 2012 Raph)

A/N, not important: I'm running on steam and got a bunch of state test in a week and a half✌. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Vomit, kidnapping, attempted escape from an abuser, being in a dumpster, bugs, threats, rushed writing

Words: 1080

Summary: Staying silent is harder than it looks

Your hand has a vice grip on your mouth, your breathing shaky and shallow. Every breath you take sends waves of anxiety and fear through your spine, your eyes darting back and forth across the gross dumpster walls. You could hear his angered shouts in the distance, and the awful smell of rotting trash paired with the terror wracking through you made you want to vomit. A part of you wished you picked a better hiding place, but you knew there was nowhere else in the alley you turned down. Not unless you wanted to take a shot at hiding in the sopping cardboard box against the wall, but even the quick glance you gave it spoke wonders. It would have collapsed the moment your fingers brushed the cardboard.

Your crouched position was starting to hurt your back, your knees aching at the position. The dumpster was full when you climbed in, and while most trash was thankfully in bags, you could still feel something wet and slimy moving over your skin. You couldn’t even tell if the prickling on your arm was trash brushing against it, or a bug using you as a bridge. More bile pushes itself up your throat, but you desperately swallow it down. You didn’t want to be stuck in here with the smell of rancid garbage and stomach acid.

Your eyes stare straight ahead, the darkness penetrated by two small holes in the dumpster. It gave you enough vision to see outside if you leaned close, but you didn’t risk it. You didn’t want to give anything the chance to see you too.

The night is still, random cars passing by the alleyway giving you some hope. If you just got out and stood by the road, maybe someone would stop? They could take you to the police, or to a hospital, or to anywhere but here. Anywhere that he wasn’t. The thought of escaping, of finally being free is so tempting, that you almost get up and try it. Almost.

You body is frozen before you could truly decide, your breathing halted and eyes wide. Raph, silent at ever, had just landed in your alley. Dangerous curiosity trumps your survival instinct, and you lean closer to the holes in the dumpster. His sais were in his hands, the metal glinting off the lamps lining the streets. You could see how heavy he was breathing, his plastron moving in a hypnotizing pattern as if it was trying to coerce you to come out on your own. His eyes were pure white, something you had only seen once before. Last time he looked this serious, he almost put you in a coma.

Your mind tugs at you to move backwards, to hide in the safety of the shadows and silence, but the poison of curiosity has you firmly in its grasp. You watch in fascinated horror as Raph rampages through the alley, kicking over pails and tins while he grunts and curses. He walks further down the alley and you lean to the side, hoping to be able to follow him with your eyes. At the shift, you feel yourself start to slip and once more you’re doused with a cold rush of fear. You quickly reach your hands out to steady yourself on the walls of the dumpster, but in replanting your feet, you kick the metal floor harder than intended. You don’t even have time to look up before Raph is opening the dumpster, his white eyes green once more.

You couldn’t help but feel in awe for just a moment, your mind reeling as you lose your sense of reality. It was like you were looking up at your friend instead of the horror he had become, the hide and chase merely again rather than an attempt to save your life. He, unlike you, doesn’t waste time to gawk, his hands curling around your biceps and yanking you out of the metal coffin. You stand there, numb and still in shock of your stupid, preventable mistake. All you had to do was not move. All you had to do was not look. You could’ve been free, but here you are, back into the arms of a demon.

“You left me.” He hisses, his anger boiling over and making him shake. You continue to gape at him, fear paralyzing your body and tongue. Raph doesn’t seem to care. He shakes you slightly, your mind starting to work a bit more as your eyes meet the toxic green of his. “You left me.”

You don’t know what to say, and nothing could possibly help you in this situation. You were stuck. A goldfish in a fishbowl set by a pond. Tears sprout at your eyes as you start to crumple, your knees giving out and forcing Raph to take hold of your weight. He sneers, but says nothing as he picks you up. He parkours up to the roof of the buildings surrounding your alley, anger bubbling just under your skin.

In what feels like less than a second, he jumps down into an alley once more and sets you down. He eyes your pathetic form for a moment before scoffing, moving over to the sewer cover and prying it up. He grabs your ankle and drags you over, ignoring the growing screams and pleads that fall from your lips. He brings you into his arm with slightly more difficulty than before. Your flailing accompanied with his single hand carry was not helping him contain you. He jerks you back so your back hits his chest, making you wheeze from the impact.

“Stop your whining. Whatever happens, it’s your fault. I told you not to run, and you didn’t listen.”

You don’t listen, making him grumble with frustration. He ducks down on the ladder and shuts the sewer, plunging you both into near darkness. He doesn’t bother keeping you comfortable as he drags you down, letting your limbs hit the cold metal of the ladder rungs. He hits the floor and throws you over his shoulder, his grip on your calf threatening to snap it in two. He ignores your cries of pain and the fists beating against his shell, only marching on towards the prison he calls your home. Whatever awaited you there, you sincerely hoped you’d drop dead before you could find out. You doubted that would ever happen though. Raph would never let that happen. After all, he does love you.

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diamondcitydarlin · 6 months

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i think probably the worst part of the whole thing is that I just don't really care anymore, the investment I had at the end of season 1 just straight up no longer exists. no, it's not just bc a blorbo got killed off (and there's a lot of reasons to be angry about that), it's mainly bc most of the characters at this point feel like hollow shells of who they were a season ago, including the stede x ed pairing as a whole (which I really just don't care about anymore at all, sorry). and no it's not bc 'Izzy got all the development and there was no time for anyone else' like of course there was time for everyone else, provided that they hadn't opened the season on all those characters making 180 character changes with no real explanation, provided they hadn't overloaded the damn season with nonsense that goes nowhere. JimxOlu was my OTP after StedexEd in season one, both of them were some of my faves, and not only did neither of them even really resemble who they were in s1, their relationship which was of such great importance in the former just suddenly...is something else now. Not people in love, but 'friends who have fucked once lol' and are wingmen for each other now because...??? Oh but Jim's dating Archie who...*checks notes* was in a Snake Cult? I think? That's about all we get on her, apart from the fact that she likes making out with Jim I guess. And I guess Zheng can't just be a powerful woman character that exists in this narrative without a romance of her own, so let's just toss her together with Olu and never explore or explain that with any kind of depth. Jim has neither trust issues anymore nor do they have ANY interest or investment in their revenge scheme or the Siete Gallos (REMEMBER THAT PLOTLINE?? REMEMBER?? APPARENTLY THE WRITERS DON'T) they're just kind of goofy all the time now for no reason. Olu's leadership arc? His being a confidant to Stede? Where the fuck did any of that go? Are they all a polycule or are they all just separate couple friends? IDK WHO CARES THIS IS HOW IT IS NOW I GUESS. Like, why am I supposed to care about any of that? It doesn't even feel like the characters I watched before.

And StedexEd. Jfc there's so much to say that other people have said better but the constant bringing up of conflicts, breakups, and then immediately resolving those issues with heartfelt reunions/kissing as if that's supposed to be sufficient got really old for me after awhile. The lack of explaining how their 'whim-prone' romance to this point was bad, the lack of explaining how they reconcile their different goals was also bad, but oh they can just go RUN AN INN NOW! Yay happily ever after! ????? "Ed, you've got family" which he immediately leaves to go try another life path he's probably going to suck at and hate WOW so romance. Like either figure it out or break up for good, it just makes them an obnoxious toxic couple who never seem to communicate or bother to try but are supposed to be the one we love the most and are rooting for. And that sucks, because I loved them once! GARBAGE!

There's only so much blame one can put on external factors for this. I worked in production once, I edited scripts and was a go-between for notes and writers, and this is the exact kind of thing I would've felt compelled to point out; we only have x amount of time and x amount of episodes to properly tell these stories, we know this, so maybe lets be realistic about what we can fit in here and do justice and what we can't. Maybe let's not just throw every fucking thing we think of at the wall to see what sticks while completely ignoring/retconning character traits and stories we set up in season 1. But nah, that's what happened!

Like, what is there to watch for at this point if s3 gets greenlit? I fail to find anything that I'd care about seeing continued, even the peripheral characters like Frenchie and Wee John and Roach, whom I also loved before and still do but barely did anything, so I guess I can tune in to watch them do more of nothing? Idk man it sucks when it's not just 'wow that was bad I hope next season is better' but instead 'wow that was so boring and incohesive I have no more interest or emotional investment in this to continue'

#ofmd critical #were there good moments in s2? of course #was it on the whole kind of an overpacked incoherent nightmare? yes #was it a fitting continuation of the s1 story? absolutely fucking not #posting in this tag so that hopefully the toxic positivity crowd doesn't get offended lol

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ridreamir · 4 months

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Short Drayton Imagines (Set 1)

Warning! These are Post-DLC Imagines! I won't really be spoiling much plot-wise but in case I say anything spoiler-y I'm going to include a page break-- read with your own caution! There's a hint of Kieran Jealousy in here haha

youtube

You aren't really close friends, per se, it's just that he's taken to inserting himself into your life at random. If you ever find yourself in his neck of the woods, it's more than likely that he'll pop out from nowhere and try to distract you from getting your work done. You are colleagues at the very least, being the champ of his little organization and all.

"Hey sport!" or some variation is the only warning you'll get that you're about to be dragged into some whirlwind and might as well either run as fast as you can or resign yourself to being at the mercy of Drayton's whims for the day.

Yes, he is always scheming. People might look down on him for being laid back, but he's still got the energy to plot things it seems.

...It's not that he's philosophically against bad grades or anything, but you're a little too high-strung about being perfect and performing all the time. At least, that's what he thinks. You've been the best at everything for so long that he's not sure if it's just your nature or an obligation that everyone else has set upon you. You need to learn to relax! Who better to teach you than the Drayster himself? It's not like he takes anything seriously anymore. (lol) (Maybe he's projecting, a little. He knows a thing or two about expectations and pressure being put on a person to achieve excellence, even if that's not what they really want.)

Plenty of his lackeys have obviously figured out that he's got some sort of thing going on, what with how easily he drops what he's doing just to go pester you. Even if that means abandoning his snacks and actually cleaning himself off to look somewhat presentable. The fact that he cares to wipe a couple crumbs off his chest is enough to turn heads. Drayton isn't the type to mind what anyone thinks.

You're lucky the dorms require a digital key to get in, and that he can't be bothered to break in (though he probably could pull some strings if he really wanted). He's followed you back to the dorms after a long day and ignored the hall monitors barking at him to get back to his own just to play around and snoop through your stuff. It's... kind of like finding a really lazy Beartic rummaging through your garbage.

He doesn't really need a comfortable bed, to be honest. He's happy to drag you into a foot of snow and burrow there. He can settle anywhere secluded, as fun as it is to watch people from afar. He needs peace and quiet to sleep.

Artificial glaciers or not, the cold is still biting, but he's impervious to it somehow. He'll have his skin exposed for hours and have nothing more than a slight flush to his pale skin. You, on the other hand, have little choice in the matter. He knows you've dealt with worse, being a seasoned adventurer and all, so he doesn't really feel all too bad about hogging all your warmth to himself. ...If you were actually cold, he wouldn't be so cruel. You're dressed appropriately, and you have your Pokemon if you absolutely need. You can handle a few moments out in the snow. Your little friend is a teeny bit upset with him. So's his sister, so there's nothing new there. But he has to admit that he's a little smug about how 'close' he can get to you and loves watching the pipsqueak try to stomp down his temper. It goes something like "Hey there buddy~." And an arm slung lazily slung around your shoulder. Not that you have any idea that Kieran is both behind you and seething at Drayton. It's just too easy to get to him, but think of it as payback. He's forgiven of course, but he still put you all through some rough stuff. You especially. Drayton still loves to mess with Carmine, sure, but she's also been on his case about how he's been latching onto you recently. Maybe it's because she knows how jealous her brother gets, but he thinks she just wants you all to herself. Too bad for her, he got to you first. Well, not exactly, she met you before him, but she had her chance! Now you're the bestest of buds and she can't do nothin about it. You've got lots of friends back at 'home'. He knows he can't always capitalize on your time, and he backs off when he sees you actually needing space, but they're not here to stop him. You're his bud, all his.

#x reader #pokemon #reader insert #pokemon x reader #imagines #fanfiction #dlc #drayton pokemon #Drayton x Reader #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet dlc #blueberry academy #school life #hello tumblr #i'm back #post dlc #possesiveness #Youtube

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beloved-cat-gremlin · 5 months

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To all of us hoping that Gregory will be the protag of HW2, I have found a bit of info that might help fasten that theory.

I'm not sure if anyone else has pointed these things out before. So keep that in mind when reading.

Theory rambling incoming from here on out.

So a few weeks ago I got myself this lovely book here.

And while it is just a general cookbook with some fancy recipes in it, we all know that in true FNaF fashion there is more going on here than it seems.

And boy there sure is, even if some of these are rather obvious. Because throughout the entire book there are added pieces of paper with small notes that contain info on them.

And these little straps of notes are written by none other than Gregory himself. With the notes themselves indicating that these are post Security Breach as evident by these specific notes right here:

These are very clearly written by Gregory and all tie into the events of Security Breach.

(There are a few more notes mentioning how you should always keep your eyes on the Endos, grab an Ultimate Pass from Bonnie Bowl, Chica eating from the garbage, that you should grab a Party Pass for Fazerblast and use the blaster to stun animatronics, how Moon is and I quote "a nightmare animatronic" and to keep away from the Staffbot flashlights)

But there are even more notes in the book that do not follow the events of the game but rather talk about older versions of all the characters we all know and love. And not just that but Gregory is flat out describing mechanisms from previous games. Like this note:

Not to mention the note itself is attached to an image with the FNaF 1 office.

There is also notes on how you should watch Bonnie's every move, to never take your eyes off from Foxy's hook and how Foxy's eyepatch doesn't seem to stop him from hunting intruders.

But the most fascinating, and most random note to me, has to be this one:

A note from Gregory describing Ballora. I could kinda understand that Gregory might have gotten info on the classic four animatronics via searching stuff up, but the fact that Ballora is mentioned here, and only her from SL, makes me think that this is way more important than a random little easter egg.

Because let's take a look at the HW2 trailers again? We know for a fact that the three main games featured in this new one will be Security Breach, Pizza Sim and Sister Location.

And that is the important part, because Ballora was only and only in SL and nowhere else. Heck she was even the first animatronic teased in the first HW2 trailer.

Some people theorize that Cassie could be the one we play as in HW2 because of the Foxy ride shown in the second trailer, and with Cassie mentioning that she had been on this ride before, but here we have a game that includes Ballora and could be a potential GGY prequel where we play as Gregory.

Now we have a book with notes written by Gregory, mentioning Ballora. And not just that but HW2 could be where Gregory got all the info for the older animatronics from.

We do see that the new Foxy ride attraction includes the FNaF 1 office, which could be how Gregory knows Chica's specific attack pattern and also knows more about Bonnie and especially Foxy. Because outside of cutouts and references and images in SB and RUIN there is no way that any of these kids should really know much about Foxy.

Sure Cassie might know stuff from her dad but Gregory? There is no way he could have known most of this stuff. Unless he played a game prior to SB where he did get to know about the old animatronics.

And all of this isn't even me mentioning how Gregory, somehow, managed to dig up the old news paper articles from FNaF 1, 2 and 3 and put them into the cookbook.

Heck the first note you see from him is of the first location threatened to be shutdown because of the weird odor and mucus from the OG animatronics after the first MCI! Followed by the MCI report itself:

Other articles that were included are of the original help wanted ad in the paper where they are looking for a night guard. The article about the OG pizzaria closing down. The second help wanted poster from FNaF 2 which talks about the grand reopening in 1987. And the two news articles about Fazbear's Fright opening and then eventually burning to the ground.

Not sure how or why Gregory managed to get a hold on all of these and why he decided to include them in the cookbook. But they are there.

And that's kinda all the info I found myself. I'm not the best at doing these theory things but I'm trying.

Am I maybe digging for hints where there might not be any? Possibly.

Do I however feel that this could be important clues to figuring out more about Gregory? Oh absolutely.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf: help wanted 2 #fnaf gregory #fnaf ggy #long post #rambles #no art

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tantalizingtopi · 4 months

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Last Solstice I Gave You My Heart

Gortash x Dark Urge (Claret in this one shot)

Word Count: 1658

Disclaimer: characters are not mine, but Larian Studios for Baldur’s Gate 3

A Bhaalist Tradition (I just made up), one gives the person who has impacted them the most in the last year the heart of one who has slighted them or otherwise caused them grief. Claret had done just that last winter solstice, and her business partner had thrown it away, disgusted. She won’t make the same mistake again.

Claret watches the snow fall outside from her position at the Elfsong tavern, having taken the corner table for herself to drown her sorrows. She had nearly forgotten about last solstice and how she had declared her interest in her business partner, only to find her token of adoration in the garbage, and him annoyed at her for bringing him ‘gory tokens’ when she could just tell him who she killed if he needed to know about it.

She takes another long pull of her ale, knowing that trying to drink her sorrows will amount to nothing. She had taken care to carve out the heart of that man who had dared speak ill of the subject of her affection, how carefully she had removed it, cleaned it, and put it in the perfect packaging.

A Bhaalist tradition, one cuts the heart out of someone who has wronged the creature who has most impacted their life since the last solstice. Lovers give them to one another. This year, Claret is going to give her heart to Ghislev, who has agreed to become the undead Farslayer to further protect the temple. Due to the cult's growing influence in the city, more and more people are trying to find the temple, and security needs to be increased. Ghislev has proven himself to be both worthy of Bhaal and worthy of the honor. He only has asked to have one last winter solstice to be with his lover and to slay the one that has caused them the most grief.

If Claret were crueler, she would’ve picked his lover to be the sacrifice for Ghislev, as he is clearly causing Ghislev grief. Instead, she has killed his cousin, who had spoken out against the cult. She has the heart in her satchel, cleaned and fermenting in a jar with a white satin ribbon that had been soaked in the cousin’s blood. Claret finishes her drink, looking out once more to the heavy flakes. She pulls her cloak on and stands, only to feel a small tug at her side.

“Ma’m, this is for you,” the young errand boy says, holding out a folded note. She takes it and slips the child two silvers which he quickly pockets and bows, before rushing away. Claret unfolds the note and see the neat, tight encrypted lettering of the Banite.

‘Will I see you for Solstice? I have something for you.’

She sneers, crumpling the note. She had planned on stopping by his place for a quick romp after giving Ghislev his heart. But now she wonders if she should give him the satisfaction of seeing her. After all, their last meeting had left a bad taste in her mouth. They weren’t exclusive or anything, and they hadn’t ever vowed to be anything more than business partners, but having him cut her off early so he could go whisper sweet nothings in some patriars ear still hurt her. She didn’t like the way he made her feel in those moments, didn’t know how to handle herself. Their non-relationship was the closest she had ever come to anything remotely long term, previous affairs always ended bloody in one way or another and were exceptionally short-lived.

She leaves the tavern, heading to Ghislev’s home, still unsure of what she would do following her visit with the future farslayer. The streets, earlier bustling with people are nearly empty, save for a few souls hurrying through the storm to their destinations and those unlucky enough to have nowhere else to go but the streets. Still, there were fires in alleyways for those undesirables, and perhaps a few would be fortunate enough to breathe their last breath for Bhaal, as was common for those without someone to give a heart to their god instead.

The snow crunches in under her boots as she nears the small home in which Ghislev shared with his lover. Gods, Claret hates his lover, an arrogant sniveling little man who constantly ridicules Ghislev. She reaches the door and knocks, hearing voices inside.

The door swings open and the snooty face of the high elf gazes down at her. “Oh, it’s you.”

“I just need to see Ghislev for a few moments, Daevin,” Claret says, brushing past him. She didn’t make a habit of social calls, but she had visited them many times, taking a special interest in Ghislev, as he was one of her first recruits when she had first arrived in Baldur’s Gate.

Ghislev turns from the fire to look at her, confusion passing on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“No, things aren’t okay,” Daevin scowls, “you’re interrupting our solstice.”

Claret’s eyes flash, and she has to stifle her urge to sacrifice Daevin to her father right now. She grits her teeth and vows to end him once Ghislev is stationed as farslayer. Her voice comes quiet and low, “Care, Daevin.”

Daevin’s face pales and he says nothing more, but still holds his posture. Claret removes the jar from her satchel and presents it to Ghislev, bowing slightly. Ghislev bows as he takes it, “For me!”

“For you on the night of the most shadow. Your cousin shall not cause harm to you again,” Claret says. “I shall leave you to relish yourself in the night, for all too soon the dawn will come.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Ghislev says, bowing deeply again to her. Claret brings her hood up and steps around Darvin, pausing for just a moment to lock eyes with the elf, watching as he trembles before she whirls out into the night once more.

Claret finds herself in front of Gortash’s workshop, her mind still not made up if she should see him or not. She shifts on her feet, the cold beginning to seep into her boots. She sighs, turning to go when the door swings open to reveal her business partner, “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come.”

He beckons her inside and she hesitates for a moment before giving in and going inside. The workshop is warm and welcoming, and Enver helps her out of her cloak. He hangs it near the hearth as she takes in the space around her with surprise. The hearth’s fire glows brightly, two glasses and a bottle of wine sit on his cleared off workbench along with some meats and cheeses, there is even a scent of cinnamon and cranberries in the air. She eyes him warily, “are you expecting someone?”

“Only you, my murderous beauty,” Enver purrs. She laughs.

“You cleaned this all for me? How long did that take?”

He grins. “Longer than I’d like to admit, if I’m being honest. I wanted to make the longest night special for you— for us. I know how special it is to you, now.”

“It’s just another night, another silly holiday, Enver.”

The smuggler rolls his eyes. “Don’t be flippant, it’s unbecoming.”

“Much about me is unbecoming, which is why you don’t find me mingling in high society all that often,” Claret replies, a grin on her lips.

“Don’t tell me you still upset about the other night,” Enver replies.

“I came here, didn’t I?”

Enver opens the drawer to his workstation and pulls out two ornately wrapped packages and sets them in front of her. “I was planning on giving these to you later, but perhaps it’s best I do this now.”

Claret eyes the boxes in front of her, hearing a soft metallic sound coming from the smaller one, but makes no move to open them. She occasionally gave small trinkets to her business partner, usually tokens from the people she had eliminated on his behalf as per their agreement, but never had he returned the gesture. His acknowledgment of their dealings have been grander gestures, such as torture racks of her ancestors which were now proudly on display in the temple. “What are these?”

“They’re gifts, Claret. For you,” Gortash’s smile doesn’t meet his anxious gaze. “Just open them.”

Claret’s fingers shake slightly as she pulls at the golden ribbon on the first box, the bow unwinding easily. She lifts off the lid and stares inside. “Enver?”

She pulls the glass case from the box and looks at the organ suspended in the middle. He gives her a small smile. “I wasn’t aware of the custom last year, and didn’t know the significance. This is the heart of the man who hit your little urchin girl last tenday in the park. I only hope it begins to make up for the way I mishandled your gesture.”

Claret’s eyes water as she smiles. She had went to find the man and couldn’t. She often gave coins and baubles to the urchins that hung around the park she frequently busked at for a brief escape from the temple. She was self taught and not particularly good, knowing only a small handful of songs, but the street children would dance and play about when she performed and it made her feel like she was doing something nice for them. “Thank you.”

“Open the other one,” he encourages.

She picks up the smaller box and opens it, pulling out a chain from which hangs a tiny metal heart, the intricate device moving—no, she realizes, beating— as if it were a real heart. Enver steps closer and takes the box from her hand, pulling her palm up to rest on his heart. She feels his heartbeat at the same rhythm of the one on the chain. “What is—“

“Claret,” Enver says quickly, his pulse beginning to race under her touch, “you have my heart. I know that our relationship is unorthodox and far from ideal, and that it may be our downfall in the end, but you are the only person I have ever given my heart to, the only person I will ever give it to.”

She presses her lips to his. “Blessed Solstice, Enver.”

“Blessed Solstice, my love.”

#baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #dark urge #durgetash #gortash smut #gortash x durge #lord enver gortash #durgetash beginnings #durge #durge x gortash #smuggler gortash #enver gortash #low key my partner and I both like Enver as a name #for a future offsping

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charrfie · 9 months

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Soooo this has been in the works for a while. Some fun and self indulgent and silly au that I actually got way too attached to!!! To the point I've actually got a whole outline of a story for it! Going to put it in under the cut :^]

For context: I haven't really decided if this is a completely parallel universe where kris and susie and everyone else has any input on the world. Or if its simply just a year or two early to main storyline stuff. Idk, still thinking, I'll figure it out eventually.

Story time now though! Just as they are in their actual canon story, arrfs is from space! An alien trying to integrate into the Lightner world. Despite pups best efforts over the years, she still manages to wind up without a friend. I'm still heavily workingshopping what exactly their Lightner life was like or how exactly they stumbled into the dark world, all I know is pup gets there somehow!

Once arrfs DOES reach the dark world, pup is absolute terrified. Not only is there no one to tell them what's going on or where they are, but there's also no one to face the unknown with her. Unsure what to make of the change of clothes and new surroundings, pup treks on until- just as she does in the actual deltarune canon- queen pops up out of nowhere to capture her!!! Arrfs instinctually turns into a little tiny worm as a way to hide and defend pupself and queen just accepts it, going "Oh shit lol they disappeared woah. Okay bye."

Skipping ahead a bit bc otherwise we'll be here all day (and also bc I mainly have the meat of this story planned out rather than anything prior)! Arrfs stumbles around cyber city lost and confused after a close run-in with some ambyu-lances. That is, until they find themself in an alleyway. And who else do they find there other than spamton g. spamton himself!!! Instantly picking up on the fact that pup is a Lightner, spamton attempts to lure her into buying one of his wares so that pup may learn to trust him. Which quickly goes south when he realizes that arrfs doesn't have a single cent to their name. He frowns, instead offering her a place to relax. A place to stop running from every Darkner that attempts to approach them. This lands arrfs in spamtons shop, of course! While it seems like a friendly offer, in reality it's mainly offered so that spam has more time to think up a deal. One that would really hook arrfs and ultimately benefit spamton himself.

But then it hits him. This Lighter is lost and confused with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. If he were to hire them with promise of a roof over their head and a place to stay (however low quality and surrounded by garbage it may be), they would not only be a much friendlier face to lure his customers in, but would also come to trust him. THAT'S how you hook a customer and make them into a returning one. That's his ticket into getting into the basement. And to his surprise... arrfs jumps on the idea! Pup's very desperate to get a controlled grip on this world, and most of all, really just to find a friend after all these years. Blissfully unaware of the real nature behind the deal, she seals it.

I'm still working on the exact details of how the rest of it plays out, all I know is that the two actually do wind up becoming genuine friends! Spamton initially was in it for himself, sure, but instead he finds himself so comfortable with the first genuine friendship he's had in years. He fufills his goal of enabling arrfs to be completely trusting of him, but he never figured he would be so trusting of them as well. Not to mention that with all of arrfs help, they've pulled together a bit more of a stable income. She's even encouraged him to create his own art that sells for a much higher price than his normal wares. He almost wants to delay getting his hands on want he wants down in the basement out of fear he may lose all the good he's found. Almost.

And that's what I've got so far! I think it's fun!

Extra design notes!!!

I know I stylized black and gray as blue on spamton btw but that was just the fit the blue theme on the rest of this. Arrfs' cloak is actually just that color blue!

Arrfs is surrounded by butterfly themes in the dark world! I figured that since their themes are mainly focused on grubs and caterpillars outside of the au just as a normal sona, butterflies would be a cool approach to show some kind of change! That's also the shape of their cloak- butterfly wings!

#spamton #spamton g spamton #deltarune #self insert #technically. bc arrfs is my sona after all #my art #oc tag #arrfs #if any of this seems a little cliche or smthn thats okay bc its still a wip but also its simply just for fun so it doesnt really matter ^_^#ref sheet #lightner arrfs au

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new-revenant · 1 year

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Mirror World of Mine AU art hoopla! It’s the Lunch Lady scene but it’s uh different. Danny’s basically saying that only he has the capability to defeat the Lunch Lady. I have a story bit under the cut. This is making me want to write a whole fic for this AU. Anyways, if you don’t know anything about this AU, just look at my previous posts about it under the MWofM AU tag. This is a magic AU. Neil is this AU Danny. Regular Danny also exists in this AU. Possession ieskai. You read that right.

After Neil had darted to the bathroom after the “garbage fight” he managed to start, Sam and Tucker barely had a moment to settle down before the temperature in the cafeteria started to plummet.

“Brr, since when did it get so cold?” Sam asked, shivering. Tucker shrugged, shivering as well.

“Maybe some garbage got in the AC?” Tucker suggested.

“It’s not garbage-“ Sam started before being abruptly cut off by a screech coming from the kitchen. Everyone in the cafeteria started looking over toward the noise, and promptly started panicking. Did they even notice the wind that came from nowhere? And that it started to swirl over to the kitchen? Sam and Tucker noticed.

“Sam, I think we might have a,” -Tucker leaned closer to Sam to whisper- “we might have a ghost problem.”

“Hopefully the ghost doesn’t show up psychically,” Sam whispered back.

Then the ghost appeared. A sweet looking lunch lady, clad with pink clothes and a white apron, seeming rather confused.

“Hello dearies, I’ve noticed that there isn’t any meatloaf, even though it was supposed to be served today, according to the menu,” the Lunch Lady asked quite calmly.

“Well it was going to be served until someone changed the menu,” Tucker glared at Sam, who responded with a huff.

Then the ghost’s appearance shifted. She got bigger, and her white hair outside of her cap burst into flames.

Green flames surrounded her body as she yelled, “WHO CHANGED THE MENU?!”

“You just had to tell her didn’t you?” Sam hissed through gritted teeth.

“What was I supposed to say?” Tucker asked.

“Nothing! Say nothing!”

“THE MENU HAS BEEN THE SAME FOR 50 YEARS!” The Lunch Lady continued. She growled as a green vortex appeared above her.

“We’re done for!” Someone yelled. Sam and Tucker could only agree with that sentiment-they had no idea how to deal with a ghost. Maybe if Sam actually bothered to learn more about her psychic powers, and if Tucker knew anything about supernatural creatures that aren’t vampires or werebeasts, maybe, just maybe they could’ve done something. And it looked like Sam was going to be the Lunch Lady’s first target, as the ghost pointed a fist of green at her.

“WERE YOU THE ONE TO CHANGE THE MENU?!” The Lunch Lady questioned.

“Um, maybe?” Sam smiled nervously. That was apparently a good enough answer for the Lunch Lady to lift one of nearby tables to throw at her.

A haunting laughter sounded out from every corner of the room. The Lunch Lady paused, lowering the table. The air seemed to still for a moment, returning to the same calm of before. Sam gave a sigh of relief before remembering the laughter.

A figure phased up through the middle of the floor. Another ghost, a boy that looked around her age. His lower face was covered by a white cloak that enveloped his entire body, only the toes of his white boots poking out from under it.

“It isn’t very professional to attack students lady,” the new ghost told the Lunch Lady with much more confidence in his voice then anyone else would have in this situation.

“Well someone changed the menu,” the Lunch Lady responded.

“The same menu that was in place for 50 years? How awful.” The new ghost seemed to know about the menu then. Or he was just listening in.

“Yes! You understand me then!”

“Oh I understand. I understand that you’re putting your anger onto innocent students!”

The oppressive air returned with the Lunch Lady’s anger, “LUNCH IS SACRED, LUNCH HAS RULES, HOW DARE YOU DEFILE IT’S IMPORTANCE!”

The new ghost just laughed. He clasped his hands together, and shaped a giant, odd looking scythe out of ice in mear seconds.

“I don’t think I’m defiling lunch’s importance, I’m just standing up for these kids.” The new ghost said. He stuck the end of his scythe into the floor and floated to stand on top of tip of it. He looked over to Sam and Tucker specifically, looking between the two before his bright green eyes settled on Sam. Sam looked back, but couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes. She focused on his white hair, which had a golden sheen on the tips of it.

“I think we’re all aware that without me, Danny Phantom,“ -the ghost-Danny Phantom-threw his hands out flamboyantly, unveiling the green coloring of the inside of the cloak- “You wouldn’t have a GHOST of a chance~“ He cackled after saying that, whether it because of his pun of for some other reason.

“Now let’s get this haunt on the road!” Danny pulled out the ice scythe from the floor and launched himself at the Lunch Lady, and the fight began.

Both Sam and Tucker wished they went to bathroom like Neil did.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp fanart #dp au #danny phantom fanart #danny phantom au #niel fenton #magic au #dp art #MirrorWorldOfMine AU #MWofM AU #revenant makes art

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shuttershocky · 10 days

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Top 3 characters from any MOBA you've played gameplay-wise

Ooh this is ridiculously hard... Ive played so many over the years that I liked...

1.) Shoichi (Eternal Return) — The only video game character archetype I like more than a gunslinger is a swift dagger wielding assassin, and Shoichi took that to the utmost extreme.

Blindingly fast, incredibly squishy, and extremely prone to dying off of a single mistake, Shoichi's whole deal was that he could reset a short range, instant dash by dashing over a dagger that he drops, while his Stab, knife throw, and spinning ult all dropped daggers around him (like a modified Katalina, from League of Legends).

He's so squishy that if he misses one of his skills and runs out of dash resets, he's quickly killed, meaning his gameplan was always to ambush a target with a full combo of all his skills as fast as possible, hopefully killing them before they even properly realized they were being attacked.

This feast or famine playstyle made him a big balance problem for ER, and he tended to either instantly kill a target, or miss one skill / run out of damage on a tankier target and then just die pathetically, but that's what made playing him so fun.

He's the closest a video game has truly got to really capturing Tohno Shiki as depicted in Tsukihime, far more so than Melty Blood's. I've uploaded a few Shoichi clips here on this blog, i'm not as fast as the pros are but I'm still real proud of them (especially the 1v2s or 1v3s ive won)

2) Rubick (Dota 2) — As the original MOBA upon which all others descended from, Defense of the Ancients contains a lot of Heroes with designs that became nothing less than genre-defining, such as Pudge's meat hook being replicated throughout many, many games, from League's Blitzcrank to Overwatch's Roadhog to Super Monday Night Combat's Veteran

Rubick however, is a character based around having an incredibly generic skillset, but with the most unique ultimate in Dota. He's got an instant stun that does no damage but can move enemies around, an honest nuke that bounces, and a passive that boosts his cast range, little in the way of an identity. But, Rubick's ultimate, Spell Steal, lets him copy the last spell an enemy hero used (including their ultimates) and temporarily use it in battle.

This makes Rubick's gameplay completely change every single time, as his possible moveset is determined by the enemy's lineup instead of him. His generic but crudely effective regular skills are meant to combo with as many different stolen spells as possible, creating a real chameleon of a mage that can use even your own ultimates against you.

Due to his simple basic skills, playing Rubick is very easy, but due to his ultimate, playing Rubick well requires mastery of basically every other spell in the game, and Dota is notorious for being the sort of game where it's quite easy to grief your own teammates with a bad spellcast.

I have played this character for a ridiculous number of hours since he first got ported from Dota 1 to 2 back in 2012, and I'm still only able to grasp him at a surface level. I love the pursuit of mastery far more than actually getting good, which is why I've been hot garbage at Dota for over 12 years now and I've never tired of it. Rubick is that feeling in a single hero.

3) Captain Spark (Super Monday Night Combat) — Although it pains me not to put a representative of my love Gigantic in here, Captain Spark remains unmatched. A Rocketeer + Shark Boy and Lava Girl parody, Captain Spark took the very common trope of the teleporting assassin in 2D MOBAs, and took it into 3D space.

With the ability to blink through walls and floors, Spark played with the 3D space in a way nobody else in Super Monday Night Combat could touch. He could come from anywhere, at any time. There was nowhere you could run where he couldn't follow, and catching a guy that could simply blink to another part of the map made chasing him almost impossible. It's the closest anyone's really gotten to replicating the idea of fighting a comic book speedster, where you have to catch them by surprise, or lure them into a fight they can't easily escape from and overpowering them with bulk.

One of my favorite moments playing as Captain Spark is when another player caught me offguard and pushed me off the map to my certain death. I simply looked up as I was falling, teleported through the floor, and ended up right behind the guy as they turned around assuming I was already dead. I shot them with Spark's secondary ray pistol just to get their attention, and when they turned around, I grabbed them and tossed them off the cliff they just chucked me from (because hey, one of Spark's skills is to grab and flip an enemy behind him, perfect for such situations).

I miss SMNC. Video games sure haven't made a weird Shark Boy wearing Rocketeer cosplay kind of character again.

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m3rricat · 2 months

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You Do Not Have To Be Good - Ch. 1

Story summary: Four months after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion finds himself stuck in the mire of his past and all the anger and despair that comes with it. While wrestling with her traveling-companion-turned-lover’s misery, Cat makes an impulsive decision that sets off their first falling-out. This post-game short story is told alongside the full in-game story of the evolving relationship between Cat (the not-a-bard) and Astarion (needs no introduction) which varies from canon. Told from both POVs.

Chapter Masterlist

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

Chapter Content Warnings: mild gore, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4974

Read on AO3

The cobbles under Astarion’s boots are slick with rain from the day. It makes the night pungent: the stench of rotting garbage in the streets and sewage from a thousand chamber pots flowing toward the harbor is so overwhelming he is practically swimming in it. But it doesn’t matter, because the anger pulsing through his veins is a hot relief. Even as it galls him, it cuts through the haze of creeping misery, and for the first time in weeks he feels sharp. Feels as alive as one undead can.

He had smelled it on her skirts. Faded and stale, but there all the same. The mildew in Cazador’s dungeon must have been its own strain, for he had smelled it nowhere else until he had on Cat, minutes ago.

Astarion had woken that evening and found it was to be a night where his mind was fitful, see-sawing back and forth from the present to the past which inevitably overlaid every street and every alley here in his old stalking grounds. It was a poor time for his broken brain to betray him. He had a hunt tonight. More properly, a bounty hunt, or state-sanctioned feeding as he had called it in the hearing of the newly-minted Grand Duke Ravengard. Astarion had gone to him weeks back for leave to get a license. His delightful joke had earned a grimace but no outright rebuke from darling Wyll. Cat had also rolled her eyes, but her lips quirked in amusement he knew she could not help. Not with him. That had been a good day. One of the few this past month.

On his way out that night, his path had crossed with Cat’s in the airy, earth-smelling main hall of Jaheira’s house, who had graciously agreed to put them up for a while when they returned to the city. Thinking back, Cat had been distracted. Her smile hadn’t quite reached her eyes. Though maybe that was because he had been… trying to deal with lately. But either way, he had dutifully stepped into her embrace, accepted her loving admonishment to be careful, will you? Most times he thought it awfully adorable given that he was back up to his full vampiric strength and speed that the tadpole had taken from him. But this night, just as she said it, that smell reached his nose. And all hell broke loose.

The stench jolts him out of his body. Even as he watches himself round on Cat, he is back there writhing on the stone in the dark, his throat raw from screaming as Godey goes in for another nail with his pliers. He sees her trying not to cry, trying to calmly answer his demands of why in the hells did she go there, go there without telling him? That wretched place where she has no business, where she must be prying or plotting or hiding something from him. Betraying him. Picking at his wounds. Her apology is choked but painfully sincere. She should have told him, should have told him right off. She squeezes her eyes shut as she tries to explain. She barely knows herself. Him struggling with the past, and his memories that are in her own mind. She wanted to—she doesn’t know. Put them down there, nail them to where they were made. Wanted to loosen their grip on her mind—and, and—

Nevermind her insane prattling. Her strangeness that he cannot stand, gods damn it. It is the most untrue thing he says to her. He sweeps out the door with his burning anger before Cat’s tears can smother it.

How did it go so wrong?

That little charmed interlude after their victory over the Netherbrain was gone like a dream. Those first three months he and Cat had caroused along the Sword Coast: by night, searching for leads to let him walk in the sun, and by day, holing up in whatever cozy crypt or cave or cellar and searching each other’s bodies for other sorts of leads. They were wildly, disgustingly in love and it so completely consumed him he thought the feeling would never end. But then, of course, the day he felt most deep in contentment was the day he realized what he had tried to run from had already slithered back into its old well-worn burrows. Had molded over his bright new happiness.

Because how could Astarion be happy? Him, the corpse that had been little more than a puppet for 200 years, had been beaten and flayed and burned and penetrated every which way by a thousand strangers, taken from himself so thoroughly. How could so degraded a vessel contain happiness? Around that three-month mark, while still out on the road, these thoughts start to skirt through his mind like shadows, there and gone in a blink. But then the shadows start to gather. Start to linger. Some days they shade everything he sees. Everything Cat says.

He begins to see her with double vision. Part of him still sees naked, unabashed love in her eyes. But the sharp and cold part of his mind that has kept him in one piece these past centuries begins to know the truth. It begins to whisper. Now and then, it will suddenly reveal the disgust in her glances, the disgust any reasonable person would have for one like him. He sees the weight he is on her, the dead body drowning in itself that she must carry, must cajole and comfort and leave alone when he snaps at her for solitude, when she has done nothing in particular to deserve it. Because he is hateful, pathetic. A burden, a tangled mass of them, who can’t do such a simple thing as be here and now.

They had always planned to return to the Gate after some months to rest, to raise up funds again for the search. But when Cat mentions turning around, all Astarion hears is her defeat in the face of him. He cannot blame her. He does his best to swallow his venom, but he is tight-lipped and sullen, trailing after her unfailingly patient back all the way to the city. He manages, from time to time, to break the surface of his self-loathing, reaches out with all the affection he can muster, mutters apologies, and she holds him, and for a moment he believes again. But then she must let go, and he sinks back down, trying to keep the memory of her love in his dead lungs.

She does not say a cutting word against him through all his moods. Cat has always been a master at keeping her own counsel. It was one of the first things he learned about her in those early days of their acquaintance, and he did not much care for it then.

It is six months ago, and Astarion is standing over her while their merry worm-brained band make camp on a cliff overlooking the fleshy wreck of the Nautiloid. She is the oddest one out, he thinks: an armored cleric, a subpar wizard, a delightfully terrifying alien warrior—and then there is Cat. A human-elf mutt of some mixture, pretty in a plain way, with her crooked nose and brown freckled face. So common that it’s oddly familiar. She looks like a serving wench that has been flung down from the sky and rolled in some dirt because that is exactly what she is. It is one of the few things anyone is able to pry out of her early on. The most she has said to him was at their introduction the day before, where she had promised to shove the knife he pointed at her down his throat. He somehow still wound up included in her little group, but had gotten little more than unreadable looks from her since.

“Rather dour for a bar maid, aren’t you?” he ventures as she arranges the firewood. She replies with the new longest string of words she has ever said to him, blandly suggesting that he slosh some beer on her and grab her ass and maybe that would get her in the right mindset. And then she turns back to tending the firewood.

Despite Cat’s few words, she seizes the reins of their little troop early on. Astarion pinpoints her ascension to the night when the glum cleric brought back a rabbit she had caught for dinner, but neither she nor the wizard knew how to prepare it. The Gith was useless as she would have just eaten it raw. They stared down pathetically at the tiny carcass until Cat sighed, picked it up, and took it away to drain and dress.

Cat being vaulted to the leadership position is also due to the quiet firmness about her that Astarion cannot square. She can squeeze out only some basic spells. She is barely competent with a crossbow. Shouldn’t she be utterly out of her element, with a worm gnawing on her brain and other monstrosities trying to kill them daily? It makes Astarion suspicious. There is only room for one con artist in this group, and he has already claimed that spot.

In those first few days, countless times he decides to abandon these ingrates and strike out on his own. But doubt stops him, even after they get leads for possible solutions. That Gith crèche is one. But he would need their resident Gith for that. Perhaps she could be persuaded to go off with him… but he doubted it. She had deferred to Cat like a kicked dog when Cat intervened in her interrogation of that blubbering tiefling. The only other apparent option was the head druid, but hundreds of goblins swarmed between him and Astarion.

And then there was his particular predicament—this thing writhing in his skull had granted him a species of freedom. How could Astarion possibly thread the needle and keep it, control the worm and not destroy it like everyone else intended should happen? So he goes in maddening circles, each time finding himself back in camp.

If he is a tad honest with himself, Astarion’s crippling indecision is also due to the fact that he is afraid. Incredibly, mind-numbingly afraid, and he has no idea what he should do. He has been forcibly taken from his master, but that will not save him when he is found again. His dream of Cazador that first night only reinforces the rationality of his all-encompassing terror, and his ire toward his lickspittle companions who seem content to casually stroll toward the general direction of a solution, taking in the sights along the way.

Astarion’s anger peaks in the dank chambers of the Emerald Grove when Cat betrays how weak she is. She tells the dwarf healer everything, blabbering on about the worms and the ship and the mind-merging—everything, to a perfect stranger. And Cat gets exactly what she deserves: no cure, and a threat of bodily harm if she does not promise to kill herself at the first sign of a cold sweat. Instead of chucking the bottle of wyvern poison back in the dwarf’s face as she should have done, she accepts he theoretical suicide graciously and pockets it. Astarion tries to wrestle the scowl off his face until they are out of the warrens full of wary druids.

He must do something. Leave, or stage a coup, or somehow convince the half-elf wench to grow a spine since she has everyone’s ear already.

As they set up camp on a ridge overlooking the Sacred Grove, Astarion makes up his mind to try the least drastic option first. He goes in search of Cat, but finds her occupied with yet another distraction. A crying tiefling—what is with all these crying tieflings?—is sat on a rock just down the ridge clutching a lute, and Cat is crouched beside her, talking low, her hands far more expressive than Astarion has ever seen them.

The tiefling sniffles and plays a phrase; Cat stops her, talks and gestures, and then the tiefling tries again. Over and over this repeats. Several minutes later the girl manages to eke out something passable, her voice cracking as she tries to sing along. Cat stands and after a brief word turns to leave, but the girl grabs her arm, and Astarion can hear her thanking Cat profusely, telling her she has a gift in return. She totters over to her packs, pulls out a long-ish wooden case, and hands it to Cat.

Astarion can see the stiffness in Cat’s arms as she holds the box. She’s staring down at the thing like it might bite. The tiefling is expounding again. Cat mutters something without look up and marches off up the path toward the camp, tucking the case under her arm.

From his vantage point in the shadow of a tent, Astarion watches Cat veer away from the camp at the last second, stop at a stump just off the path, and put the case down on it. She stares at it as the sun goes down, hands on her hips. It feels like an age before she sighs, unlatches it, and with a smooth movement removes a glossy violin and bow and brings it to her shoulder.

Shit.

She deftly begins to tune it, face furrowed in concentration. Her arms seem suddenly graceful, holding it all in a frame that is both solid and easy. Practiced. Because she is practiced, as Astarion knows. Because now he realizes he has seen her before.

Two times it was. Seven—no, eight years ago now. The first time, she is practically swaggering into Cazador’s upper city offices after hours in her gown straight from a private performance at patriar so-and-so’s. Her eyes slide over Astarion who is posted outside the door, her mind clearly preoccupied. Cazador had pulled him from the hunt that night, needing someone to play the manservant at this meeting.

Cat—she did not just go by 'Cat' back then, surely?—is Cazador’s fixation of the month. Cazador always considered himself a poet, and relatedly, a patron of the fine arts. He usually had some musician or painter or other under his thumb to fulfill his demented artistic whims, and when they tried to wiggle out from under, he sucked them dry more literally.

Cat has caught Cazador’s eye for the same reasons why she has become the general darling of the upper city arts circles. She is a violin prodigy with both incredible technical expertise and astonishingly inventive composition. But more than that, she can play the Weave as easily as her instrument. Most sinisterly, she can also twist the emotions of her audience with terrifying precision. A typical bard might sow a general fear with their songs, but Cat can coax out your specific worst childhood memory, or the delicious pangs of your first love. It is like catnip to the rich and powerful, this beauty with the potential for pain.

Cazador must have her. First he muses about turning her, claiming her talents forever, but he quickly discards the notion as Cat would be unlikely to retain her skills. The dead, even animated, have duller senses of touch than the warm-blooded and are far less dexterous without effort: it took Astarion a good decade to become even middling with a sewing needle. No, patronage it would be.

Except, apparently, it would not. Astarion can barely make out the words through the solid oak door, but the progression of tone makes it clear that things are going south between his master and this woman. She is saying no, rather bluntly. This would be a first. A tendril of pleasure curls in his stomach. Oh, she is doomed. But she has rankled Cazador, and that is what Astarion lives for.

The second time comes several days later. Cazador has pulled him for servant duty again, this time to escort him at a concert. The concert of the season, in fact, which features Cat as a soloist. Cazador has not said a word about any plans. But Astarion knows he has one. Knows that this will be the woman’s last happy evening, one way or another.

He is sat behind his master. As ever, his eyes are drawn to Cazador, the fire of his hatred always burning in his belly, even when it is banked low. He tries to make his eyes wander the audience, the orchestra, the lavish hall, to steal something beautiful to tuck away in his mind, but inevitably they snap back to the arbiter of his world.

At the end of the evening, Cat strides onto the stage with that same swagger as when he first saw her, beaming at the audience’s roar of approval. Astarion does not feel bad for her, per se. She is just another unlucky wretch in his master’s way. He watches events unfold with detached interest, like watching a carriage crash.

She looks radiant as the orchestra strikes up the triumphant third movement of the concerto. She comes in on her cue, gets several notes in, and falters. With a game face, she tries to dive back in, but her bow squawks against the strings instead. Astarion cannot hear Cazador, but he can very nearly feel the vibrations as his master incants whatever curse or hex is settling over her, strangling her well-tread neural pathways. Cat’s face is pinched with fear now. She stares out at the audience wildly, unseeing—and then Astarion sees the moment her eyes lock on Cazador. She knows it is him. But she is caught, and she cannot stop it. The din of the orchestra garbles and then crumbles as Cat runs off stage.

Astarion expects his master to order him to track down the woman in a few months’ time to drag her back to the palace for her final comeuppance when she is well out of the spotlight, but the order never comes. Cazador seems to have forgotten her, as has the rest of the Gate’s high society.

But here she has come crawling out again, probably from inside of a bottle drowning her sorrows since. Astarion had known Cat was hiding something. Perhaps she speaks little because does not want to exhume her past. Maybe she does not want her fall from grace revealed.

Astarion then wonders if she has recognized him—if she thinks he had anything to do with what happened that night. Astarion grits his teeth as he continues to watch her tune the fiddle. This made things more complicated—except, no, he decides forcibly. It is straightforward. Cat is a broken person, and he has proof now. He had intended to approach with flattery, but now he knows he must probe the wound, find out how deep it is. If he cannot convince her to be more ruthless, then she must go, or he.

Just as he is about to corner Cat, Shadowheart calls the group to supper. Cat stops her tuning abruptly and shoves the instrument back in its case. She carries it over to the tents and dumps it unceremoniously inside her own before joining.

Astarion almost misses Cat the next morning. He is perched on a rock outcropping to watch the sun come up, the one thing he has found that makes him happy in this mess, when Cat darts out of her tent. He did not expect her to rise this early as she had never done so before. It is not until she has already set off on a path to the far side of the ridge with her violin case under her arm that he spots her and begins following her at a distance through the scrubby underbrush.

The Chionthar flows on the other side, looking molten in the early morning light. Cat sets down her case on a flat rock wedged into the sandy bank. Just as she snaps it open, Astarion steps out of the shadows.

“We’ve met before. Haven’t we?”

Cat spins around, startled. The bow is clutched in her right hand. She looks slightly wild. Her mousy hair, normally braided and bound up, is drooping in a messy bun and she doesn’t have a jacket on over her stays. Her stare is severe for a second, but to Astarion’s surprise, it eases slightly. She regards him carefully.

“’Seen,’ maybe. I know I never said a word to you,” she says in her slight drawl that Astarion hasn’t yet been able to place.

“So you do remember. But you never said a thing.” Astarion strolls toward her. "I didn’t even recognize you until you picked up that fiddle yesterday. How the mighty have fallen.”

Cat casually leans back on the rock, folding her arms. Her tone is cool as she says, “You want to take a dig at me? Go on. I didn’t think you cared much for what your patriar boss did, though.”

“Oh?” Astarion frowns. “And what would you know about that?”

Cat smiles slightly. “I saw how you looked at him. You were staring at the back of his head the whole night like you wished it would explode.” She picks at the top of the bow with her finger. “I wanted to shake your damn hand then. Everyone told me he was eccentric but—eugh,” she shudders. “I felt like—like a pretty bug he wanted to put a pin in when he was talking at me in his office. And I know it was him that scrambled my brain.” She looks back up at him, serious. “What did he do to me?”

Astarion is honest. “I haven’t the faintest.”

Cat sighs. Shrugs. “Figured. You still working for him?”

“Uh—” Astarion stutters. He is thoroughly thrown off his plan now. She seems far from broken, or even ruffled. “No. I—that is, no. Ancient history.”

“Good for you,” says Cat feelingly. “He must be hell to work for.”

Visions of Cazador’s eyes glowing with command burn through Astarion’s brain. “Yes,” he says, distantly. “He left…much to be desired.”

The silence stretches as Astarion fights through the sudden wave of intrusive thoughts. Cat peers at him, her face tinged with concern. “What did he do to you?”

“My past is not your business,” Astarion snaps as echoes of what Cazador did to him rattle through his body. The anger wakes him back up to his purpose. “But what is of everyone’s concern—you leading us to our deaths.”

Cat blinks, straightening up. “What in the hells are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all the entanglements you’ve led us into in this blasted grove—but mainly I’m talking about that suicide pact you made. What were you thinking?”

Cat frowns. “Suicide? Oh, you mean taking that poison from Nettie? Well…” Her eyes scan his face. Measuring. “…I lied. Not like she’s going to follow me around to make sure I do.”

Astarion sags slightly at the sudden lack of resistance. It’s not like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. But he had no reason to think she hadn’t been earnest with all her other do-gooder deeds so far. “Then why haven’t you said a thing to anyone? You rather like not saying anything about anything, don’t you?”

“And if I did come right out and say that I’m not killing myself at the first sign, what do you think the others would do? Lae’zel would just chop me down right there,” Cat retorts. “They don’t need to know. Won’t hurt them.”

Astarion has to concede she had a point. But these revelations still put him on edge. When would he be the one she strategically declined to tell her true intentions? His view of her had gotten both better and worse.

For now, he should just try to make her feel aligned with him, he decides. “Glad I’m not the only sane one here.” He plasters on a smile. “Ceremorphosis has already been delayed unnaturally long. I say we can stand to dance on the edge a bit.”

“A bit. Sure. Figure until our teeth start getting loose.”

Astarion suddenly shrinks his smile, to make sure his own teeth aren’t too apparent. “Very well. If your teeth start rattling around in your skull, I’ll be happy to provide the coup de grâce. Any preferences?”

“Preferences?” she smiles, perplexed. “For how you’ll kill me?”

Astarion opens his arms generously. “Of course. It’s the least I can do for our fearless leader.”

Cat rolls her eyes. “Leader, my foot.” But to his surprise, she ponders the question. “You’re good with a knife. Bet you could get it between my ribs easy, straight to the heart.”

He bows. “As you wish, darling. A good stabbing it is.”

“So kind. But really, whatever you can manage,” Cat replies in mock-graciousness. Then absently she rubs her neck. “Just not strangulation. Please.” Before Astarion can probe into that little aside, Cat continues— “And how about you?”

“What?”

“How do you want me to kill you?” Her face is disarmingly earnest.

“Oh, my dear,” he laughs. “I’d like to see y—”

And that’s when he hears it. Suddenly the most beautiful, heartrending music Astarion has ever heard floats in on the breeze from the river. It is singing, but wordless. It didn’t need words. He could live on it, sustained by it forever—

“Cover your ears!” Cat yells suddenly, rudely cutting through the heavenly sound. But the jolt makes Astarion realize something is wrong. He has unconsciously taken a few steps toward the river bank. Trembling, he raises his hands to his ears.

Beside him, Cat is gritting her teeth and putting the violin to her shoulder. She looks out on the river. Astarion follows her gaze, still feeling hazy. A woman crouches on a sandbar several yards out into the current. At least—he thinks it is a woman. But as it shifts, he sees the wings, the stunted body crouching on claws. A harpy. She is singing full-throated.

Beside him, Cat stares at her strings grimly and slowly begins to pick out the harpy’s melody. His attention is caught by a drop of blood at the corner of her mouth—her tongue. She bit it to keep her head, he thinks absently, against the flow of the harpy’s luring call in his brain.

Louder and louder Cat plays, with each pass drowning out the harpy’s voice more and more, until Astarion feels the hold of its song dissipate completely.

But Cat isn’t done. Without warning, a guttural groan suddenly sounds from the fiddle, eliciting a screech from the harpy. Cat is staring at the thing murderously. Again she saws at the strings, this time bringing out a high whine that trembles, and then falls to a scraping moan again. And the harpy lurches. It moves toward them not on its feet, but tumbling forward, as if the horrid sounds coming from Cat’s instrument have lodged like a hook in its throat.

The thing claws for purchase at the sand, at the stones under the water, but it is no use. Cat begins to play in some sort of disjointed rhythm, a bloodcurdling march that reels in the beast until, at last, it lies twitching in a heap at their feet. In no hurry, Cat sets down the violin, unsheathes a dagger from the belt on her dress, yanks the harpy’s head back, and slits its neck from ear to ear, sending spurts of blood into the wet sand as it gurgles its life away.

Coolly, Cat hauls it up by its hair, looking into its twitching face. Then she suddenly grimaces, turning her head to spit a gob of delicious-smelling blood into the pool forming under the harpy. Astarion feels delirious—the blood (oh, the blood), the lingering sounds of the harpy’s song in his brain. But more than that, the curdling screams Cat pulled out of the violin cradled against her throat.

Cat lets the harpy’s corpse drop in a heap and stands up, stretching her back. “I can still do it,” she mutters. “I just can’t do it pretty anymore.”

“You—you undid Szarr’s curse?”

Cat shakes her head. “No. It’s still there, whatever he did. Took me a long time to play at all again. But I’ll never be able to play the Weave like I did. I didn’t want to anyone to see, but—” Cat sighs. “I have to try to be at least halfway useful, seeing as how this found me all the way out here.” She hefts the violin in her hand. “Before, playing the weave was like a math problem. Plain and elegant. But now… it’s like I’m digging around in the dirt for it.”

Astarion has no clue what she means. “Yes, but—you can still do it.” he huffs a laugh. “Kill me any way but that, darling.”

“Oh, no worries there,” Cat says, moving back toward the case perched on the rock. “I grew up with harpies lurking around. I know them inside and out. Most things I’ll never be able manipulate physically like that. And I certainly don’t know enough about you yet to snag you.”

Her gaze then snags on his for a moment before she turns back around. Astarion watches her unassuming figure warily. A thirty-something woman in a tattered dress and tattered stays and grubby stockings she needs to burn at this point. She gently lays the violin in the case. Then she goes to rinse off the bloody knife. Sheaths it. Her tawny eyes, usually brown but gleaming elven-gold in this light, snag on his again.

“Come on. Her sisters will smell this soon enough, and I don’t fancy taking all of them.”

#bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x female oc #baldur's gate 3

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shina913 · 11 months

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Scions, Ch.8d | Kims + JHS

Scions, 8d

sci·on | \ ˈsī-ən \ Definition:(1)a descendant(2) a shoot or twig, especially one cut for grafting or planting

✼Scions Masterlist✼

Pairing: Fem!Reader Sister + Kim Brothers; JHS x Fem!Reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Siblings!AU; Marriage!AU; FWB!AU; exes to ?; Mom!Reader; Brother’s Best Friend; drama; angst; smut; fluff

Warnings: vulnerable confessions; cussing; pining; unrequited love; hints of FWB arrangement but not explicitly detailed

Word count: 1K+

Summary: Four grown siblings return to their childhood hometown after their father is declared to be terminal. They are forced to live under the same roof for days, along with their overbearing mother, to say their final goodbyes. It starts off nostalgic until some unresolved family issues along with an assortment of spouses, exes, and might-have-beens make things even more interesting.

A/N: Just kidding! I said third of three updates but...I had this scene that I initially was going to work into Part 9 but it didn't quite fit so now it's 8D 🤡

After you walk out the door and into the waiting van, where your brothers and sister-in-law are already waiting, Hobi doesn't linger. He walks toward the bar to check on a few more things to ensure that the place will be ready for reopening the next day.

As he looks up for a fraction of a second, he sees you climb into the van, followed by Namjoon who was right behind you. He looks away again just before the door shuts. Not long after, he feels an arm encircle his waist and a hand brushing his cheek. He turns his face to lean into the touch but recoils as soon as he realizes that it's Dara.

"Shit, sorry." He distances himself from her, remembering that Yoongi was in the same room, cleaning up.

"What?" she asks quietly, confused as to what she's done wrong. "Nobody's here and he doesn't care." She sees that Yoongi had his back turned to them. She tries to step closer to him again, but he steps back.

"I just didn’t realize you were still here. And…you know, we talked about this," he whispers, sidestepping her to pick up more empty glasses and beer bottles to put in the bin he's carrying around.

He calls out to Yoongi and tells him he can finish up on his own.

Yoongi pauses, looks at Dara, then back at Hobi. "Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Nah. You did plenty tonight, hyung. Go home and rest.” He smiles tightly.

"Alright. You’re the boss," Yoongi responds flatly. He tells Hobi that he will take out the last garbage bag in the back before heading home.

After mouthing his thanks to Yoongi, he turns to Dara. “That goes for you, too." He hopes she takes the hint and leaves him alone with his thoughts. It feels like the longest night of his life–and it was nowhere close to midnight.

Once Yoongi was out of earshot, Dara approaches Hobi again. "It's because she's here, isn't it?"

Hobi is exhausted, confused, and emotional from your intense conversation earlier. His thoughts are all over the place--old feelings, past issues...arguments that he had buried long ago have resurfaced. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Dara; he just wanted her to leave without being cruel to her.

"I'm sorry," he says.

She moves closer to him. "You don't have to apologize, Hoseok. I know...I always knew." Despite spending countless hours together during junior and senior years at the library, she knew he would never see her as more than a friend. But she was still content with whatever kindness and attention he offered.

Although she had repeatedly absolved him of any guilt, Hobi still felt as if he was taking advantage of her situation. Despite his mother's urging to leave their hometown and start somewhere else, he had chosen to stay. It didn’t matter where he went, he would still feel lonely and empty.

"It's nothing against you," he says, setting the plastic bin filled with bottles and glasses down to face her. "I wish, so badly, that I could give you what you want and need. It's not that I don't want to, I..." He shrugs his shoulders, at a loss for words. "...just can't."

She was aware of this, and he knew that she wouldn't love anyone more than her late husband. Hobi was special to her in a different way, but this arrangement was more for convenience, to fulfill a need that they couldn't find elsewhere. Despite his guilt, she had benefitted from this arrangement, too.

"I know," she responds with an achingly warm smile. "I know that when you look at me, you see somebody else.”

A wistful smile forces its way through his face. He couldn’t help but picture your body flush against his, instead of hers. Your scent, instead of hers. Your face.

And not for lack of trying, because he did try--very hard--to forget about you. Each and every time, he failed miserably.

News of your divorce was a shock to him and, truthfully, many other things could happen. He wanted to at least take a chance. Tonight’s kiss may have been impulsive but he felt something there and he knew that you felt it, too.

“I might have a window of opportunity,” he says, still feeling the ghost of your lips on his.

She cocked her head to the side, regarding him. “She’s always been the one, right?”

Hobi is still for a few seconds, but he eventually bobs his head in a nod.

“Then you’ve got to go for it,” she urges him. “And judging by the way she looked at you tonight, I can tell not much has changed for her either."

He chuckles. “I really hope so.”

"I think you know so," she replies before taking off her apron. "I also wanted to let you know that I found a permanent job in the next town over, so I can't hang around as much anymore."

Hobi's shoulders rise. "I wish I could give you a raise," he says regretfully.

She waves it off. "Just give it to Yoongi. Besides, I wanted to come by tonight to pay my respects to the family." She pauses, turning sheepish for a moment before adding, "And I was thinking that we could have a little farewell drink together, but I guess that's off the table now." She jokes.

He laughs in return, relieved that she's taking everything in stride.

As their laughter dies down, she turns serious, her eyes carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I'll never regret the time we spent together. Our conversations, the moments we shared, they were all so special to me, especially during that time when I was still grieving over Junho. You made me believe in love again, even if it was just for that short time. And for that, I'll always be grateful. Thank you for being there as a friend when I needed one the most.”

With a final kiss on his cheek, Dara walks out the door.

It's close to 2AM by the time Hobi finishes locking up then begins his long drive home--which took all but 10 minutes. When he turns the street corner to pull into the driveway, he sees a figure sitting on his front stoop.

◤Previous | Part 9◥ | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

#bts fanfiction #hoseok x reader #bts angst #namjoon fanfiction #hoseok fanfiction #taehyung fanfiction #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin angst #namjoon angst #taehyung angst #hoseok angst #btshoneyhive #thekpopuniverse #bangtantheatrenet #hoseok fluff #seokjin fluff #bts kim line #scions x kims jhs

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