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astroboots · 1 year

Note

Can we just think about somno/cock warming with Steven for a quick sec? Like imagine getting sweet doe eyed Steven semi hard to sink down onto him just to sleep. Waking up to the poor man whimpering and begging for you. Lord take my soul now.

Summary: Steven is preoccupied by a research task for Marc that keeps him away from bed with you. You decide to keep him warm until he's done in the most distracting way possible.

Word Count: 2,850

Content: somnophilia, cockwarming, overstimulation.

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

It's dark in his flat, the only light is coming from the small desk lamp in the corner and the blue aquarium lighting from the fish tank that bathes everything in a shade of pale neon blue.

The rain is pitter-pattering against the large windows. There is a faint scraping sound of pages being turned every so often.

You're lying in bed, head propped up against your pillow, as you try to keep your eyes open and observe Steven where he's hunched over his desk that's filled with piles and piles of books that he's completely consumed by. He's drowning in the books. Face practically pressing up against the ink that you're convinced will leave smudges on his soft cheeks. His outdated librarian glasses are slipping down the arch of his nose.

"Steven," you murmur sleepily, asking him for the third (or is it the fourth time tonight?) to come join you in bed.

But you get the same reply you got last time. A gentle hum, followed by, "in just a minute, almost finished love."

You give it another minute, then two-- until a good half hour must have passed before you call out for him again.

"Steven."

The only response you get from his is a distracted hum. He doesn't look up.

"Come to bed," you try again, but it's a lost cause.

Ordinarily, you barely have to finish the second syllable of his name before Steven's head pops up like a meerkat, with his alert and undivided attention focused all on you.

In the rare times he didn't, you'd certainly get his attention by the time you finished the first repetition of his name.

Tonight though?

This is probably the fourth or fifth time for the evening you've asked for him.

You're… annoyed to say the least.

With a heavy sigh, you raise yourself into a sitting position in the bed.

"What is so important it can't wait until morning?"

It comes out just a tad sharper than you had meant it to.

That seems to finally snap Steven out of his trance.

He looks up from his book, turning in your direction as his eyes flicker over to you with a wide-eyed expression of surprise. Like someone's just stirred him from a spell.

"Oh! Sorry sorry," he closes the book in front of him and holds it up to you.

"Marc needed me to decode the location of some ancient map, and it's a bit more complicated than we thought. It's a bit like a treasure hunt, quite fun actually. We're trying to retrace the steps of Hargrave Marks, he's an archaeologist from the 60s, who had this detailed journal of his treks. But I also have to cross-reference it with several history books cause the accounts aren't exactly contemporaneous or accurate even for the time it was written. Hargrave had a tendency to opt for good storytelling instead of accuracy and--"

His excited ramble pewters out as you cross your arms across your chest. It's rather hostile, you realise when you see him bite his lip in worry at the sight and follow up with a much quieter: "Sorry, love.. am I being too loud? Am I keeping you up?"

There's an apologetic smile on his lip, and normally that would be enough to make any traces of irritation thaw and melt into dew. You're soft for Steven that way.

But this time, his cluelessness at the source of your irritation only serves to make you more irritated.

"No, that's hardly the issue. I want you to come to bed with me."

You can admit that you're acting spoiled.

Because you are spoiled. Used to being spoiled rotten by Steven's profuse adoration. The way he constantly showers you with his affection and full attention at all times. It's probably why it feels like something that is rightfully yours (him) has now been unfairly ripped from you by someone else (Marc), and you're not happy about it, childish and unreasonable as it may be.

And poor Steven, he looks genuinely torn, eyes flittering between you and the book pages. Hesitation etched over the line between his brows, his eyes lingering at the reflection of the TV screen for a few conspicuous seconds too long (Marc).

Whatever Marc is saying to Steven, has him sheepishly ducking his head back down towards the books.

"It might take a while longer," he murmurs, eyes not meeting yours. "Maybe half an hour? Or an hour? If you're sleepy you shouldn't stay awake for me. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise."

You lie back down on the mattress with a huff as you turn away from him. Trying to shut out the white noise of his pen scribbling away as the pages continue to turn.

Mad as you may be. It's cosy and warm underneath the sheets. And you had a long day at work. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep. The odds were against you. You don't know how long you are out for, but you wake to the weight of the bed shifting.

Blinking your bleary eyes open, you see Steven with one knee clambering into bed, books strewn all across the mattress, and another half dozen huddled up in his arms, and a pen tucked behind each ear.

"I'm sorry, love. This was taking longer than I thought, and I hate being away from you. I didn't mean to wake you up."

God, this sweet adorable man. All at once, guilt washes over you for having been so harsh to him earlier.

Stretching out your arms, you wrap them around his back and curl one hand around the back of his neck as you pull him down to you, relishing the small "oof" sound he makes as he plops down on top of you with a soft thud against the mattress, books landing somewhere besides you both.

"You finished?" you ask.

He shakes his head, apologetically. "Not quite yet, sorry. But I thought I could maybe do the rest in bed? That way I can at least be close to you. If you don't mind? I'll try to be very quiet."

You hum, pressing your face into the warm crook of his neck. He's so soft and warm. Comforting and steady. You draw in your breath and you're not sure if you're imagining it, but he has that familiarly pleasant smell that reminds you of a bookshop. Notes of coffee and a freshly turned page. Drawing up your lips, you mouth a small path along the line of his neck, and relish the keen little sound that he makes. A quiet little whine as his hips hitch up and press up against your legs.

"Lo-love that's-- oh god that feels--wait, I still--" he's babbling, the way he always does when your lips are on him.

You nip at the soft skin with your teeth, not enough to hurt, just with enough strength that you know will have his toes tingling as he tries to curl them against the sheets for reprieve.

"Wait," he murmurs, even though he's the one who's bearing down his weight down against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against the softness of your stomach, separated only by the comforter. "I--I need," he licks his lips, trying to find his words. Eyes glazed in a way that tells you the blood in his head has travelled south, and his capacity for speech is quickly going with it.

You hum softly, one hand travelling between your torsos as he hisses sharply at the touch of your hand when it brushes up against his clothes then underneath, your knuckles dragging against the bare skin of his soft belly. "Hmm? Need what Steven?"

Reaching for his waistband, you slip your hand into his boxers. He's already half-hard, and still rising as if to meet your fingers as you wrap them around the girth of his cock, and he gasps brokenly with a half-strangled noise.

"Tell me what you need," you remind him.

His pupils are blown wide as he swallows, Adam's apple constricting against that graceful throat. He's trying to find his words again.

"I need to finish my reading. I promised Marc."

"So finish, I'm not going to stop you."

Steven's gaze darts downwards between your body, to where your hand is still wrapped around him under his sleeping pants, with a pointed look in an unspoken accusation that you are in fact: stopping him.

His cock twitches in your grip. You can feel the slick wetness of precum leaking down from the blunt tip, trickling down your knuckles even as Steven is trying very hard not to react.

You can't help the smile that spreads on your lips as you tilt your head up, until they're brushing against his sensitive ear, letting your breath fan against the shell of it as you speak.

"Don't let me distract you, keep going, keep reading. Finish your work." You're still holding him in one hand, as the other moves to the waistband clinging to his backside and drag it down.

You let your nails gently graze along his spine, round hips and thick thighs as you do, enjoying the way he shivers defenselessly under your touch.

"Uhm, love-- you're--"

It doesn't take much encouragement or strength on your part. You grab hold of his hips as you roll him onto his back, and he lets you. No resistance on his part, as you straddle his hips, palms braced on his chest to steady yourself.

"I'm what Steven?"

The tip of his tongue, pink and glistening darts out in a nervous habit against his lower lip.

"No-nothing, nothing..." he manages. Words slurred and clumsy in his mouth as his hands grip onto your thigh as if he never wants to let you go.

It's all you can do, not to laugh. Whatever promises he had made Marc, it seems to have flown out of the cuckoo's nest.

You really should let him finish his work for Marc though, it won't do to make Mr. Grouchy even grouchier. Problem is you're not quite ready to let go of Steven or to relinquish his attention that you've finally earned from him this evening.

Dragging your hand, you let it caress the soft cotton of his shirt from his chest to his stomach then further down as you grip his cock again.

"Don't worry, let's make a compromise" you say as you stroke his cock up and down the fully hardened length as it twitches and jumps in your grip.

Steven is already nodding forcefully before he's even heard what he's agreeing to. You grip his cock angling it between your thighs and you can hear the soft gasp erupting from his mouth as the tip catches against your slick entrance.

"Keep reading, and when you finish--" you tilt your hips, sliding down in a slow and steady pace. The pleasure is sweet and heady as it skitters through your spine.

Steven's fingers grip the flesh of your thighs, trying to drag you down deeper onto his cock. But you refuse to let yourself be rushed, taking your time to prolong the sweet stretch of the thickness of his cock splitting you open as you sink down on him inch by slow, gorgeous inch, until he's buried to the hilt of you.

His eyes are on you, wild and frenzied, like you're the only thing he can see, his whole world: sky, ocean, and every atom in between are composed of you.

Leaning down, you lie flush down on his firm torso, until your breast are pressed up against his chest, you tilt your head up just enough to press a much too chaste kiss on his lips.

"Keep reading" you tell him again and he whines.

"Love, I can't--"

"Finish the work" you interrupt. "You've promised Marc and I'm not going to move an inch until you finish."

His eyes widen impossibly large at your words, as he starts to realize what he's signed himself up for. Then his bottom lip pushes forward. He's actually sulking, and god, he has no right to make pouty look so gorgeous.

Without any words, his right arm reaches out along the mattress, patting it down until he finds one of the books and brings it to his chest. He lets out a slight testy murmur, in a grouchy tone that is much more characteristic of Marc than it ever would be for Steven.

Once the book is settled in his hand and he starts to read, you nestle your face into his chest. It's the best solution to prevent yourself from bursting out into laughter when you hear Steven mumble discontentedly about how: he's never going to do Marc any more favours again.

He still smells of books and coffee, of warmth and happiness that makes you feel weightless against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he reads, hypnotic, like being rocked to sleep, and before you know it you drift to sleep.

You wake to pitch blackness. A sweet syrupy pleasure that flutters somewhere deep in you, but you can't tell where it comes from, and you can't grasp it in your hold. It skitters to your stomach and down to your thighs, warm and soft that makes you clench down to chase the sensation.

A keen gasp fills the room. Too low to be your own voice.

You blink your eyes against the darkness, mind still fussy and drunk with sleep, as you shift your body and are rewarded with that sweet-honeyed pleasure swirling through your stomach, except brighter this time, sharper, and you can't help but clench down again, hoping you can catch it this time and make it stay.

The sound comes again, a sweet gorgeous gasp, except this time, it breaks off in the middle with a quiet whimper.

"Love, please..." the voice pleads with you.

It's such a pretty voice, soft-spoken and gentle, but it sounds almost pained.

Steven...

You dart up, elbow anchored against his firm and solid chest as you look down on him, the small patch of drool on his white shirt, shit...

Trying to raise yourself further, the warm pleasure drags against your insides, and you can't help the moan slipping past your lips. Thick and heavy, his cock is still inside of you jerking from the movement in protest.

You fell asleep on him.

"I finished all my work now." He says it like an announcement.

You look down until your eyes meet. They're sharp. Mouth in a firm line of concentration. Then his hands grip down on the outside of your thighs, hard enough that you think he might leave permanent dents.

Patient, sweet, polite Steven is at the end of his ropes it seems. He pushes you down flush against him until you're pressed down as far as you can take him. It's white and electric, no longer the slow and lazied pleasure you've dreamt of in your half-awake state.

"Been having a nice restful nap, you have," he says, and you don't miss the sarcastic tone in his voice even as he groans, low in his throat, while he continues to reprimand you.

"Did you know that you've been shifting and squeezing down on my cock the whole time? No, I don't imagine you did, love."

The firm weight underneath you shifts, and you barely have a second to breathe and regain your composure before Steven raises his hips, thrusting up and into you as far as he goes.

"Felt like I was going mad."

He lifts you up, hands beneath the underside of your thighs, as he drags his cock alongside you, slowly. Maddening.

It feels like payback. The sweetest lesson you've ever earned.

"Said you weren't going to move until I've finished," Steven reminds you, as he holds you still. "But I've been done for quite a while, and you've been moving quite a lot before then actually. Writhing, hot and wet around me. I can actually feel it dripping out of you."

He pulls out of you until only the fat tip is resting inside you, his hips flush back down against the mattress. One hand draws down between your legs, his thumb sliding wetly against your folds, infuriatingly slow, until he's reached your clit but doesn't press down. He holds it there, without any pressure as if he's waiting for something.

"You ready love?" he asks, holding you poised against him, his hips canting up in preparation

Steven searches for your eyes, and the look in his eyes, focused and honed, has your heart beat fast and excitedly with no logical rhythm against your ribs.

"Yes, Steven."

It's all he needs, he thrusts up as his hands pull you down on him in a devastating stroke that incinerates the air in your lungs.

You're in for a long night, and whatever shortlived sleep you managed to catch earlier won't be enough for what Steven has in mind for you two. Not when you've gotten him riled up like this.

But that's alright.

You look down at Steven, eyes glassy with a feverish sheen. All of his attention pinned on you.

It's not so bad is it? To get to have all of Steven's devoted attention for yourself like this.

Dedication: To @thirstworldproblemss who was indispensable as always, for the brainstorming, the coming up with the hottest Steven dialogue (jesus fucking christ her lines are fucking fire) and for the beta-ing and putting up with my atrocious run-on sentence, tenuous grasp of grammar and wilful typos. I love you.

Also to the secret nonny. You don't know what your ask did to me (and TWP) we went into a horny frenzy and I couldn't sleep haunted by the horny images that were flashing behind my eyes because of your ask. I adore you! thank you for sending this in.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow @astroboots-writes and turn on notifs 🤡💖🤡

#oscar isaac #moon knight #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #💌 asks

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soleminisanction · 2 years

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Re: the last ask

Making Dick bi and working in a shout-out to Tim's sexuality as well is one of those little things that really shows how well the Gotham Knights team understood their audience. Specifically, it demonstrates a really keen understanding of the difference between writing for a Bat-family audience as opposed to a Batman audience.

You can see that in a lot of little things throughout the game, to the point that I'm really impressed. It's in the design of Gotham, both in leaning hard into the exaggerated gothic architecture (have you seen the cathedral??) and the choice to go for a "neon noir" aesthetic rather than gritty gray-and-brown ""realism""; it's in the design and utilization of the female characters, favoring showing off their personalities over making them look "sexy;" it's in the way all the writing about Bruce focuses on his kindness and nobility and portrays him as a stern but obviously loving father figure; and it's in the little details, like how Jason gets e-mails from cooking blogs, his therapist, and his favorite bookstore. Heck, it's even in the nature of the various references scattered throughout the game, like which friends are sending emails to check in on which knight, and the specific street art projects that fill out that one collection side-quest.

It's one of those things where I'm not surprised if it reviews badly because most video game reviewers fall more firmly into the Batman fandom demographic. They're more likely to favor the Arkham games, with their inspirations in the grim & gritty dark ages, and since Gotham Knights didn't try to do anything new or special with the gameplay there's not much here for them.

But for the Batfamily audience, the people who really want to be playing Nightwing and Robin and Batgirl and Red Hood? They went above and beyond in understanding what that audience (in general) favors in their stories, and it's awesome.

#meta #dc comics #gotham knights #no plot spoilers #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #barbara gordon

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ladytabletop · 5 months

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Game Roundup 2023: Part 3

Trying to squeeze in a couple more posts on this, but no promises! This one is going to have a laundry list at the bottom that I'm not going to give more detail on bc I lack time.

Bug Dish: Amuse Bouche by Ryan Khan

I cannot WAIT for the full version of this! Play as tiny bug chefs by collecting ingredients, making dishes, and serving customers!

HUNT by GilaRPGs

This one is one I picked up at GenCon. Play as an order of doomed knights hunting a beast. Uses the LUMEN 2.0 diceless system and grid-based combat, and it's a self-enclosed single session.

Our Haunt by Rae Nedjadi

Another delightful Belonging Outside Belonging game by @temporalhiccup! This one has the potential for a lot of poignancy or a lot of hijinks. Play as ghosts haunting a house.

Eyes on the Prize by Ira Prince

This may be my favorite game of the year, hands down. Play as a fake married couple trying to carry out a scheme! Try not to fall in love!

APOCALYPSE FRAME by @binarystargames

This mecha game is the right amount of crunch for me to play long-term (which i to say, less crunchy than Lancere and Beam Saber). It makes use of LUMEN to create a super tight, fast-paced game of mech combat.

Other stuff I've read that I'm not going to elaborate on at this time:

House Spirit

To keep ghosts alive

Our Farm Becomes the Battlefield

Apocalypse, Wow

Keepers of the Cards

Definitely Wizards

Neon Sundown

Death Sentence

Phanta

The Queen Returns

house

Tavern at the End of the World

MirrorMoon

Forecaster: The Body You Share

i want your bite

Our Love Can't Save The World

Love by the Quarter Mile

Dragonhearts

your body, an altar

Subway Runners

Part 1 | Part 2

#the lady rambles #2023 roundup

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pilot-boi · 1 year

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Could we see Jaune choosing not to be Jaune Arc anymore and just become the knight? Please, with extra suffering and angst on top?

((Okay, but remember you asked for this. Fair warning, this got WAY longer than I was intending, but that’s what happens when you write at AM))

Nothing here makes sense. Mice and raccoons can talk. A tiny prince has a castle full of card and chess people. And no matter how much he walks towards the tree, Jaune can’t seem to get any closer to it.

It’s like that story his mom used to read him and his sisters, The Girl Who Fell Through The World. He can’t remember all the details of it, but the ones he can are eerily similar to his current circumstances. Talking raccoon and all.

He remembers a Knight, and wanting to be just like them when he grew up. He remembers the main character being utterly alone. And he remembers that she got out of there through the tree.

So that’s where he’s going. As much as all the evidence has shown that Remnant is better off without Jaune Arc, he can’t do that to Ren and Nora. It just wouldn’t be right.

Although as of late he’s not the best judge of what’s the right thing to do.

His sword is heavy at his side. Multicolored maple leaves blow past him. Every where he looks there’s another reminder of his failures.

Pyrrha dead because he wasn’t strong enough, Penny dead because he wasn’t fast enough. Too weak to help, too weak to heal. The portal closed and he failed Ren and Nora again by not making it back to them.

And then he fell.

He couldn’t even die right.

Jaune wanders listlessly among blue shaded trees, passing neon glowing mushrooms and multicolored flowers. The plants tower over him, as tall as a building, but he doesn’t spare them a passing glance, pushing his exhausted limbs on relentlessly.

He can’t afford to stop. He’s not sure he’ll be able to get going again if he stops moving. Just another failure.

“What are you?”

Jaune blinks, reactions lethargic. It could be a threat, could be practically anything in this nonsense world, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s a…

He blinks again, a shock of awareness creeping back in. It’s a…caterpillar? Or a butterfly. Some combination of both, maybe. Jaune didn’t think he was capable of being surprised at this point, but the universe just delights in proving him wrong.

The caterpillar blinks at him, eyes wide and calculating. “I’m a Huntsman.” Is he though? What kind of Huntsman abandons his team? Kills his friend? “I need help,” he settles on at last.

Help with what, he can’t say. He doesn’t know.

The caterpillar’s eyes narrow. “If it’s help you need, then I can provide,” they say, voice raspy and gravely as the earth itself. “That is my purpose, as the Herbalist” They sling a bag of leaves over their shoulder. “At least, until I’m not anymore.”

Jaune follows as the self-proclaimed Herbalist leads him through a doorway into what must be the caterpillar’s home. They bustle around, weighing herbs and grumbling under their breath. “What did you say you are again?”

“I’m…” That question again, and he still has no answer. He can’t call himself a Huntsman, not after what he’s done. “I’m a hero.” That’s all he’s ever wanted to be, but even with that he falls short. Can’t very well call himself a hero after leading his friends and who knows how many civilians to their deaths.

“So are you a Huntsman or a Hero?” The caterpillar asks, and Jaune can almost hear the capitalization in their voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t know what you are.”

“I’m sorry Mr. uh… Herbalist?” Gods he’s never sounded more out of depth in his life. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

“I don’t understand how you don’t understand.” The caterpillar grumbles, rolling their three eyes in sync. “We all have our titles, our roles to play.”

Jaune follows them deeper into their home, through a bead curtain and into a room full of smoke. “And in order to help you fulfill your role-” The Herbalist drops a handful of maple leaves into the fire, and the smoke builds like a wave. “-you should really have a better understanding of what your purpose is now.”

His purpose? His role? Jaune’s head is spinning, and it’s only partially because of the smoke. Is there a single role he’s held that he hasn’t failed at spectacularly? Jaune feels like he’s falling down a long tunnel.

“So I ask you again.” The caterpillar rounds on him. Their eyes are flashing different colors in sync with the the pounding in Jaune’s head, a psychedelic swirling beating in time with his heart beat. Distantly he realizes his knees have hit the earthy floor.

“What are you?”

And his vision fills with smoke. It fills his lungs, choking him, and Jaune’s sure he coughs hard enough to lose a lung. A cloud of the stuff expels from his mouth, pooling on the smoky ground in front of him.

“So? Are you a Huntsman yet?”

Jaune looks up, heart full of dread. Because he knows that voice, knows it like he knows his own name.

A facsimile of himself smiles back, all false confidence and floppy blonde hair.

This Jaune’s eyes aren’t shadowed with everything he’s lost, everything he’s done wrong. His smile is wide and innocent, untainted by horrors he hasn’t seen yet.

The armor on his shoulders is too big, awkwardly tightened and perfect for a young hero ready to grow into his strength. Head full of dreams of a legacy to uphold, of people to protect.

It’s still lined with iron. Pyrrha’s gilding has never felt heavier.

“What?”

“Are you a Huntsman yet. Did you graduate from Beacon?”

Jaune’s heart clenches. “Beacon fell,” he says woodenly.

“And it’s your fault your partner died,” Not-Jaune says brightly. “Let’s face the facts, if Pyrrha had a stronger and braver partner instead of you, then she would have lived.”

Jaune winces at hearing it said in so matter-of-fact a tone. He’s right, he’s no Huntsman. A Huntsman would’ve been able to help Pyrrha instead of dragging her down.

“So you’re not much of a Huntsman, but you still have this whole legacy thing to uphold. So are you a hero then?”

“I help my friends,” Jaune says. His protests sound weak and desperate even to his ears“I protect people in danger and heal them when they’re hurt.”

“But you’re also the one to do the hurting.” Fake-Jaune’s voice is cocky, in that tone he’d always put on to project the air of confidence his father always said he’d need.

“Weiss was stabbed because you were too blinded by anger. Your brilliant strategy in Argus led Blake to fight her abusive terrorist ex-boyfriend. Splitting up in Atlas got Oscar kidnapped and Nora maimed.”

Not-Jaune ticks off his failures like they’re items on a grocery list. It’s like he can’t tell that every word twists the sword in Jaune’s chest a little deeper. “Oh!” His eyes light up, and his grin widens. “And we can’t forget about Penny!”

Jaune actually chokes.

Gods how many people are dead because of him? Penny certainly, her blood still stains what’s left of his sword, as red as the sash around his waist. Weiss as well, blasted off the side of a platform because he was too weak to hold on.

He’s no Huntsman. He’s certainly no hero.

“So, what are you?”

“I…” For the third time in how many minutes, Jaune doesn’t have an answer. He’s not a Huntsman, he’s not a hero. He’s staring at his hands and they’re shaking. What even is he except a failure? “I’m Jaune Arc.”

“And it sucks, doesn’t it?” The smile on his own face looks forced, cruel and and triumphant pitying all rolled into one. “Always just barely too slow to help, too weak to protect. Always the idiot stuck in the tree while his friends fight for their lives.”

Jaune doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tears drop onto his palms.

“You don’t have to keep trying, ya know.” And for the first time since arriving here, Not-Jaune’s voice sounds gentle. Understanding. “They don’t need you, they never have. So why not give up?”

“You’re not a Huntsman, you’re not a hero. You could give up on being Jaune Arc.” He looks up. His younger self towers over him, eyes not shadowed and armor not gilded. His hands are on his hips, one resting on the hilt of Crocea Mors.

A better person than he’ll ever be.

“After all, what’s one more failure? It seems to be all you’re good at.”

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby spoilers #jaune arc #the herbalist #mine #my writing #asks #soulreaver656

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demifiendrsa · 5 months

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youtube

Metaphor: ReFantazio — The Royal Tournament

youtube

Japanese version

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Official website footage

Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 4, and PC (Microsoft Store, Steam) in Fall 2024.

Key visual

Latest details

■ Story

This is a story of how people must find unity to elect a new king.

Our story takes place in The United Kingdom of Euchronia, where the assassination of the king brings chaos and unrest to the land.

Then, one fateful day, a magic known only to the king called the Royal Magic is invoked, and the world becomes embroiled in a royal tournament for the throne.

In the midst of this, the protagonist, together with his partner, the fairy Galica, must find a way to break the curse that has been placed on the prince that the kingdom believes to be dead. To do so, they depart on a journey across the vast land.

They will discover that in order to achieve their goal, they must participate in the tournament for the throne, and this great task shall require them to ally with many friends and followers of the various tribes inhabiting the world.

■ Characters

Protagonist (voiced by Natsuki Hanae)

Together with the fairy, Galica, he embarks on a journey to lift the deadly curse placed on his childhood friend, the prince of Euchronia.

He is a boy of the elda tribe, branded as a “tainted” people by the state religion who believe they have inherited dangerous and heretical magic. Being so rare among the populous, they are detested and discriminated against throughout the kingdom.

Gallica (voiced by Sumire Morohoshi)

Not only a traveling companion, Gallica is the guide who helps the protagonist carry out his mission to save the prince. Although she is too small to participate in battles, her knowledge of magic and ability to sense magla is superior to the protagonist due to her fairy nature. She doesn’t mince words, but she is a reassuring ally on his journey.

Strohl (voiced by Kensho Ono)

He is a young man of the clemar tribe who meets the protagonist in the recruitment centre for the State Army. A smart young man with a strong sense of justice, he hails from a noble family. And yet, it seems his circumstances are complicated, as it is rare for a noble to enlist in the army alongside commoners.

Hulkenberg (voiced by Saori Hayami)

A knight of the roussainte tribe and former member of the royal family’s Kingsguard who served by the prince’s side. Despite her young age, she excelled in the use of various weaponry, and was assigned to the personal guard of the prince. But when the prince was attacked, she failed to protect him and set out to wander, carrying the stigma of this failure in her heart.

Heismay (voiced by Akio Ootsuka)

A former knight of the eugief tribe. He has acute perception compared to most others, due in part to the eugief trait of being sensitive to sound.

With an appearance that differs greatly from other tribes, it’s not uncommon for eugiefs to be discriminated against—and it seems Heismay is no exception, his past his own burden to bear.

■ Followers

Meet and bond with your followers.

■ Game Mechanics

Unique battles that combine action and turn-based commands. Party customization offering a high degree of freedom and strategy. An evolution of the realistic day-by-day journey of the Persona series.

youtube

■ Staff

Director – Katsura Hashino (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Character Designer – Shigenori Soejima (Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Composer – Shoji Meguro (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Concept Artist – Koda Kazuma (Notable Work: NieR:Automata)

Mechanical Designer – Ikuto Yamashita (Notable Work: Neon Genesis Evangelion)

■ Art and Sound

Journey through a vast and magnificent fantasy world. Explore the game alongside an intuitive and beautiful user interface that elevates the experience. Lend your ear to masterfully crafted music utilizing captivating unique chants.

youtube

■ New Screenshots

#Metaphor ReFantazio #Metaphor #ReFantazio #PROJECT Re FANTASY #Studio Zero #Atlus #video game #PS5 #Xbox Series #Xbox Series X #Xbox Series S #PS4 #PC #Steam #Microsoft Store #The Game Awards #TGA 2023 #long post #Youtube

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peculiarbluerose · 6 months

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Tips I wish I knew for my first RE4R Hardcore playthrough (Original Campaign)

Notes:

-This can also be applied to lower difficulties to make it 10x easier

-This does not include tips for the Separate Ways DLC, but some of them can be applied, I suppose

-All of these are picked up from personal playthroughs as well as YouTube videos (Neon Slice influences the majority of these)

-I've also just played this game on the hardest difficulties too many times lol

1. FLASH GRENADES - They WILL be your best friend, I promise you. Why? They stun enemies for at least 5 to 10 seconds and you can melee them. Alternatively, you have a window to stab them (always a critical hit, perfect for mini bosses like the Brutes)

2. Keep at least one first aid spray on you at all times; this has saved me on several occasions, and not doing it has killed me

3. Ashley's armor is worth the hassle if you are trying to get the S+ rank on Professional (if it's your first run, professional will only be unlocked after you beat the game at least once)

4. If you are in a spot where you are overwhelmed, just RUN. Run if you can, especially if you're out of bullets and you're on your last knife. This is another situation where flash grenades are useful.

5. Speaking of flash grenades, if it is your first playthrough (or you just lack attention to detail), Plagas hate light and die when flashed by a flash grenade. If you have too many Plagas in the area, don't hesitate to throw a flash grenade. This is especially useful against the knights in Salazar's castle.

6. The only way you're gonna get infinite ammo is through an S+ rank on Professional, so don't even worry about that until later.

7. Yes, there are limits on saves and the number of hours it takes to complete the game in order to get certain ranks. If you don't know the rules to a rank, Google them. The game, if it does tell you, doesn't like to make those rules obvious.

8. Ashley is a pain in the rear end even with the armor. In areas like the Water Hall, she's immune to enemy attacks and Leon's bullets, yes, but she will still crouch down when surrounded, or get picked up (they can't carry her anywhere though since the armor makes her heavy, so she'll be in a constant cycle of screaming until you get rid of the zealots). Added this because I don't know how many people address this part of Ashley's armor.

9. On the flip side, the armor makes Ashley immune to attacks even during her segment of the game where you play as her, so you can walk through the knight room and be hit 45 times and be just fine. It makes that part of the game much easier.

10. One hit in Ashley's segment without armor, however, (yes, even just one) will result in a game over. Keep moving, know your paths before triggering things, and be quick about it.

11. Saddler is pathetic, even on hardcore mode. At the start of his battle, just shoot him with a rocket launcher and you'll be good to go, no time wasted

12. Two golden eggs thrown at Salazar (start of his battle, preferably. Much easier from there) will easily get his battle out of the way.

13. You know the room with the 4 Regeneradors in the test tube things? Yeah, those. Don't bother killing all of them, just get the wrench from the one and you'll be fine.

14. Speaking of Regeneradors, they're a pain. A big one. Keep your distance, they're slinky's. Keep your distance.

15. If the Regenerador is asleep (like the 4 test tube ones in the lab), line up two of the parasites (if you can, all three would be awesome, though) and shoot. It will make your job MUCH easier

16. Use the rocket launcher on Krauser when you're in the final battle with him. He's a tough one, and it's much easier to skip the fight. You also get his knife once he's dead, and it's better than Leon's. That's nice, I guess.

17. There's nothing you can do about Leon's slowness when approaching Luis's lab. That's meant to happen, and no, you can't skip it. On the bright side, you won't get hurt, either.

18. You may or may not have heard about the heavy grenade trick when Ashley is using the wrecking ball. Two heavy grenades will do the trick. If you don't have those, several normal grenades will suffice, but it will add a little extra time to your run.

19. Use flash grenade right as one of the two Giants (with Luis) are approaching the center of the room. It takes a second for the flash to go off, and it stops them just enough to open the trap door to incinerate one of them. Nice.

20. Take out the lamp guys ASAP. You know, the ones with the red lamps that make the zealots turn into Plagas? Those things. I hate 'em. Flash them with a flash grenade, then knife them. Best way to go, just like Brutes.

I hope this was of SOME use to you. I racked my memory for this info, it's a long game. If you want more, let me know. Should I do Separate Ways next?

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satoshi-mochida · 5 months

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Metaphor: ReFantazio launches in fall 2024

Gematsu Source

Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, and PC via Steam and Microsoft Store in fall 2024, publisher ATLUS and developer Studio Zero announced.

Get the latest details below.

In the TGA trailer titled, “The Royal Tournament,” ATLUS announced that their highly anticipated fantasy RPG Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch in Fall 2024. The trailer features new gameplay scenes, an introduction to the story and fantasy setting, and notes members of the team:

Director – Katsura Hashino (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Character Designer – Shigenori Soejima (Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Composer – Shoji Meguro (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Concept Artist – Koda Kazuma (Notable Work: NieR:Automata)

Mechanical Designer – Ikuto Yamashita (Notable Work: Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Additionally, ATLUS will host a special YouTube live broadcast in Japan (Japanese language only) for the game on December 11 at 8:30pm JST / 3:30am PST, that will feature guests from the Japanese VA cast including Natsuki Hanae as Protagonist, Sumire Morohoshi as Gallica, Kensho Ono as Strohl, and Saori Hayami as Hulkenberg.

Story

Our story takes place in The United Kingdom of Euchronia, where the assassination of the king brings chaos and unrest to the land. Then, one fateful day, a magic known only to the king called the Royal Magic is invoked, and the world becomes embroiled in a royal tournament for the throne. In the midst of this, the protagonist, together with his partner, the fairy Galica, must find a way to break the curse that has been placed on the prince that the kingdom believes to be dead. To do so, they depart on a journey across the vast land. They will discover that in order to achieve their goal, they must participate in the tournament for the throne, and this great task shall require them to ally with many friends and followers of the various tribes inhabiting the world.

Protagonist

Together with the fairy, Galica, he embarks on a journey to lift the deadly curse placed on his childhood friend, the prince of Euchronia. He is a boy of the elda tribe, branded as a “”tainted”” people by the state religion who believe they have inherited dangerous and heretical magic. Being so rare among the populous, they are detested and discriminated against throughout the kingdom.”

Gallica

Strohl

Hulkenberg

Heismay

A former knight of the eugief tribe. He has acute perception compared to most others, due in part to the eugief trait of being sensitive to sound. With an appearance that differs greatly from other tribes, it’s not uncommon for eugiefs to be discriminated against—and it seems Heismay is no exception, his past his own burden to bear.

New Concept Art

Journey through a vast and magnificent fantasy world. Explore the game alongside an intuitive and beautiful UI that elevates the experience. (Get an exciting sneak peek of the look of Metaphor: ReFantazio with new concept art pieces).

Watch the latest trailer below.

The Royal Tournament Trailer

English

youtube

Japanese

youtube

#Metaphor: ReFantazio #Atlus #Studio Zero #RPG #PS4 #PS5 #Xbox Series #Steam #Gematsu #Youtube

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jaybirdswriting · 9 months

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Ways To Bring Up Your Characters Clothing In A Story

A: Have them be underdressed or overdressed enough for other characters to point it out. Maybe a character wearing a ballgown has to run from something and they end up in the woods with a bunch of lumberjacks. Maybe a character wearing pajamas has to suddenly attend a royal ball.

B: They could wear an accessory that stands out. Maybe they have an emerald necklace that glimmers in the sun. They may have a unique ring because it's a family heirloom.

C: Their clothing is unsuitable for the weather, to the point other characters point it out. A character may wear a tank top and shorts on a winter day. A character may be wearing an oversized jacket and ski pants on a summer day.

D: Have their clothing be noticeable because it doesn't fit in with the culture. Your characters may live in a fantasy world where most people wear long, flowy clothes, but your main characters may prefer tight-skinned garments.

E: Have a detail on your characters clothes be notable enough for others to point it out. Maybe one of your characters wears a skirt with a butterfly pattern. Maybe one of your characters has a shirt with golden lace.

F: Clothing could be different in different areas of the world. Maybe in some places, it's customary to wear a lot of purple. While in others, it's more common to wear red. A character could be assumed to come from somewhere based on what they wear.

More Undercut

G: Their clothing could tie them to another character. Two siblings could wear a matching accessory to imply their connection.

H: Their clothing could be noticeably similar to a real or fake figure in the world. Maybe a young knight takes inspiration from their queens style. Maybe a young teenager takes inspiration from a fictional character they really like.

I: Have their clothing contain symbolism. A character who wishes for freedom could be wearing a shirt with a bird on it.

J: A character could be wearing the clothing of another character. Maybe a character is wearing their partners jacket. Maybe a character is wearing their best friends bracelet.

K: A character could have a really specific aesthetic. Like pastel punk, punk, cottage core, dark academia, etc.

L: A character's clothing could not fit properly. Maybe they're short and the fabric of their pants hangs too long for their legs. Maybe they're tall and their pants don't hang down long enough.

M: A character could have a color. Maybe the hue they prefer is yellow. Maybe it's blue. But they wear this color enough that other people start to notice it.

N: The clothing could seem like something not from a store.

O: The characters clothes are really bright and eye catching. It would be impossible for the narrative to ignore it when nobody else could.

P: The characters clothes could fit perfectly to the point they look tailored.

Q: A characters clothing could make them look older/younger than they actually are.

R: Their clothing could tie into their hobbies. Maybe an artist is wearing overalls stained with paint. Maybe a baker has on an apron covered in flour.

S: They could be wearing some kind of work uniform that makes them stand out from the more casual characters.

T: Your character may need to go undercover and wear something they never would otherwise.

U: Maybe a character doesn't have style at all. Other characters could pick up on the fact that their clothing never seems to match nor look like any effort was put into them.

V: A character could have a clashing piece of clothing. Maybe all of their clothing is steampunk, but they also wear a big neon pink glittery bow in their hair.

W: Maybe your character could get an iconic piece of their clothing during the events of their story. Maybe they're given their iconic jacket for completing a quest. Maybe they find their iconic hat while exploring a new area.

X: Their clothing could be made of an odd material. Like tin foil or cake.

Y: A character could make and sell clothes that are described in great detail because they're passionate about their craft.

Z: Their clothing could be notable because it's made out of a rare material others would struggle to find/afford.

#writing prompts #writeblr #writing #oc prompts #prompts

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industry-fr · 3 months

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New 10-print limited accents!

Currently taking slots for each color! If you're at all interested, hurry on over to Our Shop Here to sign-up for a slot! Once they're full, they will be sent out immediately. They are currently priced at 1000g a piece!

There will also be a RED version with some design modifications to it that'll be coming up down the road, so if you missed your chance here, sign up for our *Customs* pinglist to keep an eye out!

Thank you for your continued interest and support!

#fr #flight rising #flight rising skins #female ridgeback #ridgeback #glow #robotic #accent #flight rising accents #bright colors #cyberpunk #neon #neon knights detailing #limited #10-print limited #custom

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this-is-z-art-blog · 1 year

Photo

[ID: digital drawing from the waist up of Danielle from Danny Phantom in her human form and Claire Novak from Supernatural. Both are holding swords and showing them off excitedly. Danielle’s is the Fright Knight’s sword, solidly neon green and glowing slightly. Claire’s is her angel sword, silver and triangular with a black grip and bronze detailing.]

@amorpho‘s Crossover Danuary 2023 ↳ Honorary mention, Supernatural

They’ve got swords and that’s going to be everyone’s problem

#dani phantom #Danny Phantom #Claire Novak #supernatural #superphantom #Crossover Danuary Week 2023 #dani fenton #dani masters #digital art #image description #spn fanart #dp fanart #2023

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classpectpokerap · 1 year

Note

Thoughts on Neon (Breath+Light)?

Neon (BreathLight)

(icon by victis-stelar)

So! Neon is a fun dual aspect, because it's one of the ones that inspired the entire classpecting system! By that, I mean it has canon representation, in the form of poor, dear, Tavrisprite.

Tavrisprite, according to the ERIJANCENTRAL.COM dual classpect calculator, is a Spy of Neon, or ThiefPage of LightBreath. (Other notable details - Spy is an inverse of itself, and its paired class (active/passive swap within the verb group, so Thief to Rogue and Page to Knight) is Hunter, which is Davepeta's dualized class.)

In a sense, Tavrisprite is the ultimate showcase of what can go wrong with dual classpecting. The two personalities are incompatible as a living being, exploding just seconds after being created. This is obvious in the classpect name itself - Spy of Neon. A spy is thought of as sneaky and subtle -- neon is anything BUT. Their fusion was doomed from moment zero.

On the other hand, Neon itself isn't a fundamentally broken classpect. Obviously, the Tavrisprite fusion had permanent personality-altering effects on both (Vriska) and Ghost!Tavros - Vriska discovering how to cool her fires, and Tavros discovering how to be a leader, even though the fusion was merely seconds long. (For more discussion on that specific note, check out my fanfic, polyfrag.)

Neon also could represent a coming together of John and Rose. A "Herald of Neon" - a herald being a messenger containing news - could fit their relationship, vibeswise. I won't really get into it here, since that'd just end up being a Why I Like Grimdorks apologia, lol. But I do quite like it.

Finally, the popular fan fusion/pairing of John/June and Vriska results in a "Vagabond of Neon." Again, I can't really go into this specific one beyond just, "those vibes feel kinda right for that pairing," but yeah. (Hi godfeels fans lmfao - my new fic about June, featuring her wandering in Alpha Timeline Earth sort of aimlessly yet directedly, does evoke this classpect intentionally.)

I just realized I got to the end of this post without talking about Neon.

@nihilistic-janitor and I named the aspect Neon because it's bright and obvious, yet literally a gas. It's one of the more literal names, since it is just Light But Windy, but I feel like it fits.

Where Light oftentimes blinding and scattershot, and Breath leading in all directions, Neon is a pinpointed alternative. A neon sign tells you where to go and why you need to be there. It combines knowledge and travel in a nicely neat way.

(Special thanks to @victis-stelar for the dual aspect icons!)

---

Please send in more asks! I can do ones about specific Classpects, Classes, Aspects, or meta stuff, like the dual system or how classpecting works with player-fused Sprites.

CLASSPECT POKERAP: 1/5184 COMPLETED /j

#homestuck #classpecting asks #classpect pokerap #cotd #on duals #erijan compliant #classpecting #breath aspect #light aspect #breathlight #tavrisprite

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nymphilily · 2 months

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I'm pretty sure this makes sense to me and me alone

Fuck it, actually have my explanations below (Spoilers for TWST Book 7 below). Might add more when I can actually remember things about the stuff I like

What Furuya and Silver have in common:

- Eppy (Furuya's sleepy habits stem from a lack of stamina and is often used for a comedic affect. Silver's sleepy habits are caused by a curse placed on him 400 years prior to the beginning of the story and is viewed as an obstacle to be over come, even in the rare instances when it's played for laughs) - Prodigies in their respective fields (baseball - pitching specifically - for Furuya and swordplay for Silver), often viewed above their peers within this field - Has a hard time expressing emotions and connecting with peers - High School Students in Sports Clubs (Member of the Baseball Team, as previously established, for Furuya and Silver is a member of the Equestrian Club at Night Raven Collage) - Considered conventionally attractive by peers - Only children

What Silver and Guan Xing have in common

- Sons of respected generals, all of whom are close to their respective ruling figure (Guan Yu is Sworn Brothers with Liu Bei, Lilia was raised alongside Meleanor to be her guard and was so close with her husband Levan that Meleanor said the two spent more time together than the actual married couple did, as well as hatching and raising their son Malleus after Meleanor's death and Levan's disappearance. Silver's biological father married the daughter of the king who raised him, and served directly under his Brother-in-Law in the Silver Owls) - Forced (?) to go through intense training regiments as children with the intent that they'd enter the military as adults (although technically speaking, Silver is training to be a knight and bodyguard for Malleus) - Skilled in swordplay - Admires and respects their fathers - Around the same height (Silver is one centimeter taller than Guan Xing, if the Koei Wiki is giving me correct information. Unfortunately Furuya, standing at a proud 183 cm, is taller than both of them) - Linked to a group affiliated with the color green and often seen wearing said color (green is the representative color for the Shu Kingdom in the Dynasty Warriors franchise and since Diasomnia is based around Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, it's dorm color is a neon-ish shade of green)

What all three have in common

- All are voiced by Shimazaki Nobunaga in the Japanese versions of their respective franchises - Their greatest rival is also their closest friend (Sebek for Silver, Sawamura for Furuya and Zhang Bao for Guan Xing) - Their front bangs all fall in the same way and direction. I feel like that was worth mentioning despite the detail being minor

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autisticrosewilson · 3 months

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•°•Spotlight Overture•°•

Pairing(s): Willis Todd & Catherine Clemens, Catherine Clemens/Nathalie Knight (Nocturna), Willis Todd|Wingman & Natasha Mitternacht|Nocturna, Catherine Clemens/Willis Todd/Nathalie Knight

Warnings: Gotham typical crime, canon divergence, eventual polyamory, secret identity shenanigans, this mini series is going to get very sad, don't ask me about the time period DC doesn't know and neither do I

Willis is led through the darkened club by two men in matching suits. It's a tasteful place compared to his usual haunts, the dance floor is a blur of star confetti and neon light bouncing off the disco ball on the ground floor while the bar and tables litter the top. The old Hollywood decor reminds him of a girl he knew in highschool, he vaguely recognizes the posters framed on the wall as musical productions she used to like.

The nature of the patrons is obvious immediately, older men in loud suits and the scent of too-strong cologne permeating the air under the reek of alcohol and sweat. Gotham's nightlife is in full swing here, ripe with the parasites that fester in her underbelly.

Gotham's old money is hardly his first choice of employer, but things have been tight at the shop lately and cash is cash.

"Wingman," a severe looking older man greets him when he enters the study, "a pleasure to have you." The man greets him curtly. Charles Mitternacht, head of a prominent, if lesser known crime Family. Owner of The Spotlight and the man who will be signing his paycheck, although Willis isn't entirely sure what he's being paid to do yet.

A bad idea to go into a situation like this without all the details but no guts, no glory he supposes.

The office decor differs from the rest of the club, the bookshelves are overstuffed and the furniture is worn but well cared for. The Mitternacht's are an old family, and this is an old building. Let it never be said that they're uneducated or arrogant, you don't stay under the Bat's radar even with their kind of notoriety by thinking like the common crook.

It's another reason why Willis agreed to the terms so easily, they wouldn't have him do anything too heinous or flashy, they know better than to think it wouldn't come down on them eventually.

Mrs. Mitternacht is sat beside her husband, dark hair done up in elaborate victory rolls reminiscent of the faded photos of his mother in her youth. Well, now he knows who decorated the place. Her lips are a bright shade of red and her eyes are sharp, calculating despite the ditzy smile on her face, with straight white teeth befitting of the silver screen.

He doesn't buy it for a second.

Their children are gathered behind them, standing at attention in a straight line. He knows three out of the five, the other two he at least recognizes from past events, but there's one set apart from the others. A separation so distinct he almost doesn't recognize that she's a part of the family at all. He suspects maybe she's a daughter in law, but he's never seen her before, and there's nothing the elite love more than showing off.

She's pale, unnaturally pale, like she's never been touched by sunlight before. It's stark, even for a Gothamite. The dress she wears is different from the others, simpler, something you'd wear at a dance recital rather than a high society event. There's a dark veil covering her face, obscuring all defining features behind layers of lace. She's the tallest one in the room, even taller than him, although she's lanky and thin. Frail, almost.

He doesn't believe that either, he's reliably certain that there's at least one knife hidden beneath her dress. He's under no illusion that even in the thin ballet flats, she's a threat. One look at long nails sharpened into vicious points is enough to confirm it.

"I apologize for the secrecy of this meeting, but word travels fast in our circles." Charles pulls his attention back to the reason for his being here. "This request might be a little unusual for someone of your...caliber," with the way he said it, Willis can't tell if that's an insult, "but you have a reputation for being reliable and versatile. Both admirable traits that I think will serve our cause well." He continues.

Willis takes a moment to think about that with arms crossed and head tilted slightly, expression hidden behind his helmet. "What kinda job 're we talkin about here?" He decides not to beat around the bush.

Charles nods, seeming to appreciate his bluntness. "A bodyguard. It'll be a longer job, but I assure that you'll be paid handsomely should you accept." He explains, straightforward and confident despite the curve ball he's just thrown.

God bless him but Willis has never been able to keep his mouth shut. "...You hired a gun for...protection?" He can't help but voice his confusion. Sure, hirelings take all kinds of jobs, but protection detail usually goes to more high profile mercs. "Kinda the opposite of my job." He points out.

"I believe in subverting expectations." The man grins, cold and sharp. "I think you'll do just fine. More than competent enough for the task, and discreet to boot." Ah, there it is. Subtlety isn't a practice most Gotham criminals employ, but the Mitternacht's have turned it into an art form. "If you'll accept this contract, I'm positive we'll all benefit." He proposes.

"And who would I be guarding, exactly?" Willis asks after some deliberation. He already has an idea, but he'd like to have it confirmed before he agrees to anything.

"Natasha." He orders, gesturing for the mystery girl to step forward. Her hair is so dark it almost blends with the veil, stringy curls falling over her white skin like an oil spill. She moves silently, nothing but the whisper of her skirt to signal her approach and if Willis weren't watching her, he'd never be able to tell she moved at all.

"My youngest," Charles introduces, "a newer addition to the family." He says cryptically. That...could mean a lot of things. But if they don't offer, he won't pry. None of his business.

He can see her a bit better now that she's separated from the shadows of the room. On closer inspection she can't be much older than him, maybe nineteen or twenty.

Willis nods slowly, trying not to give anything away through his body language. "How long should I expect this contract to last?" He urges.

"A few months, at the least." Charles shrugs carelessly, although he's too tense to read as casual. "You'll be well compensated the whole time, of course. You seem like you could benefit from a long term paycheck." He sniffs, pointedly eyeing Willis's patchwork of homemade gear. Sure, it's not the best, but it's functional and cohesive, certainly not deserving of that much ridicule. He can't deny that he's in need of the cash though, it's the only reason he's here at all.

Thinking back to his near empty fridge and the long list of things that need to be fixed, and replaced, and bought makes him swallow the snarky remark bubbling up in his throat in favor of thinking logically. "...Deal." he decides. "Where do I sign?" He straightens up from his casual lean, plopping down into the chair on the other side of the desk.

Catherine inhales deeply, the musk of the Alley preferable to the stagnant air of the club. She misses the smell of wet earth and clean air, wishes she hadn't taken the ability to breathe easily for granted. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

She knows she smells like a mini-bar, the fruity perfume she'd doused herself in before her shift having faded through the night. She can't wait to get back to her dorm, the showers should be empty this time of night, perfect for her to take her time scrubbing the layer of sweat and gunk from her skin. Unfortunately, her shift isn't quite over yet, she's working a double tonight since her favorite coworker is out sick. She barely managed to escape outside for her break, luckily she's been working here long enough to have some seniority and she managed to wrangle one of the new hires into taking over for a while.

She sighs, rummaging around her pockets for her cigarettes but pauses when she can't find her lighter. She curses, double checking just to make sure and clicking her tongue when she comes up empty handed.

"Need a light?" A voice at the end of the Alley catches her attention and her free hand falls to the pocket housing her switch blade on instinct.

Her gaze locks on a tall, broad man with dark curls and a crooked grin. He's dressed down in a plain black button down, the first few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Immediately she can tell he's not the usual bar patron. He's got messy curls and an obnoxious tie reminiscent of an arcade carpet hanging loosely from his neck. His accent is too thick to be upper class, the kind of lilt that can only be found in some of the worse parts of the city.

His posture is relaxed, nothing about him is hostile or demanding. He doesn't even make a move to approach, just waits for her to answer. Like offering a treat to a skittish cat.

She swallows thickly, fingers wrapped tightly around the knife, but she nods. "Yeah, please." She mutters, just loud enough to be heard in the quiet alley. Well, as quiet as Gotham gets. There are cars passing by every few minutes and a dog barking a block over, she can see lights on in the surrounding apartments and there's an old woman smoking her own cigarette on the balcony above them.

It doesn't make her relax any, she knows full well that Gothamites stay to themselves. It probably wouldn't do her much good to call for help. She's on her own, but she's used to that.

The man stops just short of arms reach, movements telegraphed as he tosses her the red Bic. She catches it easily, the "Good throw," Slipping out before she even thinks about it. She's quick about lighting the cigarette, moving to toss it back the second the flame catches.

"Keep it," the man insists, "I got spares." He assures. He leans casually against the grimey brick, body angled towards her. It's not as claustrophobic as it might feel otherwise, there's a good chunk of space between them, she has faith that she'd be faster than him if she needed to get away. She relaxes just a bit, exhaling a puff of smoke into the humid night air.

"Thanks." She nods curtly, eyes glued to the graffiti on the building across from them.

They lapse into what she's pretty sure is an awkward silence, although the man doesn't seem bothered. Studying him out of her peripherals gives her the impression he's perfectly content where he is, lips tilted up just enough for one of his dimples to show, no sign that he's planning to leave anytime soon.

"Y'do any sports?" He asks out of the blue, startling her into facing him head on.

She blinks at him, bewildered for a second before deciding to answer. "...Used to." She offers hesitantly. "Softball and volleyball." She elaborates a little.

He hums approvingly, "Thought so. Gotta good arm on ya." He grins at her, and it's a stupidly endearing thing. Unrestrained delight and so very proud of himself. It softens the lines of his face, seems like it lights up the whole alley.

"Thanks." she says a little more sincerely this time. Inhales another puff of smoke and then let's it out. "How about you?" She wonders.

"Hockey, wrestling. Some football." He shrugs. She can see it, he looks like the kinda man that can throw his weight around. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who likes to. An enigma, to be certain.

"I'm Willis by the way." He introduces himself officially. It's so casual it catches her off guard. You don't just give your name to people, she learned that early on. Gotham almost seems to operate by fae rules, where deals are currency and reality is altered. Names have power, you don't just hand them out.

It could always be a fake name, but something tells her that's not the case. Willis is either very cocky or very stupid. He hasn't struck her as either yet.

"Kat," she offers the same name printed on her name tag, "nice to meet you." She almost means it too. As far as late night encounters go, this hasn't been nearly as bad as it could've been.

Willis grins at her like she just put the stars in the sky and it pulls a soft smile to her face before she can stop it.

The back door swings open with a creak that makes her jump, pushing herself off the wall where she hadn't realized she'd started to slump. A frazzled server emerges, dragging his feet as he nods to her. "Louise wants you back, new kid is fighting for his life in there." He informs her, already pulling his own cigarettes out.

"Thanks Chen." She nods to him as she starts making her way inside.

She pauses just before the door, glancing back to Willis whose still grinning like he's won something. "See ya around." She waves him off, pointedly ignoring her coworkers raised eyebrow. She's sure she'll know his middle name, address, and blood type by the time their little nightshift crew finally goes home for the night.

It's only a few hours later when she goes to slide the lighter into her purse that she catches sight of the number written on the back in sharpie.

"Cathyyyyyy!" Her drawn out whine rings through the apartment. It's 10 AM, half an hour before it's time for her first class to start. She lets herself fall to the second hand couch, arm thrown over her eyes to protect them from the morning sun streaming from the open kitchen blinds.

Catherine hardly spares her a glance from where she's scribbling away at something, pages and books spread out on the tilted kitchen table. To her credit, she closes the blinds quickly. "Mornin' Nattie." That southern lilt drips out, saturated with amusement. "You sure are up early." The red head chirps. She's always been the morning person between the two of them. It's exceedingly unfair how easily she seems to work through her lack of sleep. Nathalie doesn't know what she'd do if she didn't have her abilities to aid her through long nights and arduous lectures.

"Is breakfast ready?" She decidedly does not pout. She can't be expected to help it. If she were still residing in her family's estate a full course meal would already be prepared.

But then she wouldn't be waking up to Catherine every morning. Wouldn't be able to see her backlit by the sun like an angel as she sips her cheap tea out of a novelty mug. It's a fair trade, she supposes.

Her fortune will be waiting for her at the end of her studies, hopefully she'll have convinced Catherine to come with her by then.

Catherine hums an affirmation, finally looking up at Nathalie with that impossibly fond look. "In the fridge, gonna have'ta heat it up if ya want some." She grins.

"Cathyyyyyyyyyyy!" She groans, arm thrown back over eyes.

"Somethin' the matter, darlin'?" It's not fair how effective the nickname is on her, how it makes her melt into a puddle on the creaking couch.

Catherine doesn't make her wallow in her misery for too long. Nathalie hears a snort that makes her look up just in time to see her fiddling with the microwave. It's a minute or so before she pops it open, careful to stop it before the beeping can wreak havoc on Nathalie's sensitive ears.

"Breakfast is served, my lady." Her twang is replaced by a posh accent that mimics Nathalie's own. It's not as mocking as it would be from someone else. The affectionate warmth is soured when she thinks of the new bodyguard she's been assigned, the man that will be tailing her every night for the foreseeable future.

"You ever go outside? Or would that be too much for my lady's delicate sensibilities?" Wingman had teased, his voice muffled from behind the birdlike mask. It reminded her of a plague doctor at first, but on closer inspection it's more mechanical.

She had not dignified that with a response.

She gratefully accepts the bowl of reheated pasta. It's not gourmet, but it's a family recipe Catherine was delightfully proud to show off, which might make it better. If you subscribe to sentimental things like that. Which Natasha Mitternacht most certainly doesn't.

She's glad she's just Nathalie Knight right now. It means she can forgo all of her manners to shove the biggest bite she can into her mouth and grin with unsharpened teeth. There's a trill of victory when she sees Cathy huff out a laugh and plop down beside her.

"Better eat quick, ya gotta start gettin' ready soon." Catherine reminds her, thumb rubbing soft circles on the pale skin of her ankle.

Nathalie hums in acknowledgement, eating at a slightly slower pace now. "What would I do without you?" She remarks, and it's a joke but it's really not.

"Perish the thought," Cathy grins at her, "You got me." She promises. Nathalie wonders what her lips taste like. The lipstick she wears today reminds her of cherry pie filling, bright red and glossy.

"Do you work tonight?" Nathalie asks, as if she doesn't know. As if she doesn't see Kat behind the bar every night, faking smiles to bad men and struggling to hide her sympathy for their escorts. As if she's the uninterested, unobservant roommate she pretends to be.

Catherine sighs, slumps against the couch and lets her head tilt back to stare at the ceiling. "Yup, 'nother double tonight." She informs.

Nathalie shifts her legs into Catherine's lap, bare legs against faded jeans. "One day I will pay for everything and you won't even have to look at that place." She promises. She always keeps her promises, but Catherine doesn't know that. There's a lot of things Catherine doesn't know about her.

"Yeah, okay." Catherine snorts, predictably brushing it off as a joke. She will learn, eventually. Nathalie does not need to convince her right now. "One day." She sighs, tired and longing.

Nathalie wonders what Catherine's one day is. Hopes she's included. Knows that's wistful thinking at best.

Her alarm goes off, faintly buzzing in the pocket of her (Cathy's) hoodie. She ignores it, and even though Catherine undoubtedly hears it she doesn't say anything either.

One day.

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swordatsunset · 8 months

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hello! i love your blog and your 'for the thesis' tag is especially intriguing to me (i'm very curious about medieval literature and history); would you be willing to talk a little about what your thesis is about, if you're comfortable with it? no problem if not! have a nice day :)

[wearing my neon pink "ask me about my thesis" t-shirt] haha yeah of course

SO the short answer is that I’m tackling various adaptations of Arthurian works through an ecocritical and racial lens.

The long answer is all of that, but with more detail, lol. I have a couple through-lines in my adaptations insofar as the histories they’re building upon— I’m tackling Le Morte d’Arthur by Malory, so I’m also tackling Tennyson’s Idylls of the King and TH White’s The Once and Future King. I’m looking at Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, so I’d also like to tackle The Green Knight (2021) (I might scrap that though, sadly) and, though this doesn’t as much fit into these two camps, I think Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Buried Giant slots in quite well with the concerns of SGGK. There are other works that I’m interested in too, though I don’t know to what extent or how much time I’ll be afforded: there’s a really interesting amount of adaptations of Chaucer’s the Wife of Bath’s Tale, with all that it holds, and I’d like to see if I can include Patience Agbabi’s Telling Tales and Zadie Smith’s The Wife of Willesden, which both adapt the story into a modern context, with a stronger focus on race— which is super interesting to me on the racial lens more than the environmental!

In an overarching sense, my thoughts are centered around the construction of capital-N Nature, nation and empire (you see this very heavily in Idylls of the King, unsurprisingly) through Arthurian legend as well as how those ideas are both corrupted (see The Buried Giant, The Green Knight) and boldened by adaptations, as well as the specific connections between empire and environment and how those lay the groundwork for thoughts around race.

The theoretical texts I’m working with are primarily Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s Stone: An Ecology of the Inhuman, Iman Jackson’s Becoming Human: Matter and Meaning in an Antiblack World, Timothy Morton’s Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology After the End of the World, Rob Nixon’s Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor, and Kathryn Yusoff’s A Billion Black Anthropocenes or None. I’m delighted to talk more about how these texts fit into my critical work, but this answer is already long enough lol!!!

I’m particularly curious about how/why adaptations of Arthurian legend are so concerned with nature and the environment (see The Once and Future King), and what about Arthurian legend makes it such a heady and rich place for analysis and environmentally concerned fiction. How does the constructed and real history of the UK/Britain/England as reflected through Arthuriana reveal anxieties and insights on environmental changes of the time? Can the fall of King Arthur’s court be used today as a metaphor for species extinction? Is the Anthropocene- and all the dicey territory that comes with such a term- in Camelot? Is the Holy Grail a Hyperobject? Where do Hyperobjects appear in Arthurian adaptations? How does environmentalism interact with race in these adaptations, and in their historical situations?

My thesis tag is a little misleading insofar as there are quite a couple posts in there that don’t really have anything to do with my thesis in particular, but rather just remind me of it and the stuff I’m working on!!!

Thank you for asking and loving my blog hehe :3 I hope this answered your question and if you have any more questions or anything like that feel free to ask or also dm me if you prefer :D

(edit: OH there's also another work I'm super interested in though I need to bring this one up to my thesis advisor called King Artus: A Hebrew Arthurian Romance of 1279 which is super fascinating on both a racial and 'adaptational' (to which that can be discussed as an appropriate term) level)

#asks #[sound of inbox pinging] [sound of large door being broken down] oh no you've released the monster. the thesis rambling monster #its only an undergrad thesis so it's not exactly going to be incredible scholarly work but i think im doing interesting stuff that hasn't #been quite tackled before or at least not in the ways im interested in tackling them #so im pretty excited :)#thank you for askingggg #i do think the holy grail counts as a hyperobject. btw.

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