#so my knowledge on them isn't exhaustive by any means
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Italian Theodore Nott Headcanons
So... by popular request (I think like literally one person commented on a post from ages ago) and also because I'm still working on my most recent part to the '13' Series (linked here) here's some Italian Theo headcanons to keep you sated.
sorry if this is inaccurate it's based off of my own knowledge of italians and what I think Theo would be like
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So, unlike most, I don't think that Italian Theo would be a whore. Let me explain:
Sure Italian men like to flirt, (although Theo doesn't), but they do it because it comes so natural to them and because more than anything, they value their partner.
They're well dressed and take pride in their appearance (something Theo does do) but they don't always entertain the people of the heads that they turn
They also have a natural air of confidence that Theo has and doesn't even have to use
However, just because Theo isn't a whore doesn't mean that he doesn't have his own little clique of fangirls.
In general:
As a person, Theo is incredibly quiet. His English is not the best as he grew up in the Italian countryside and spends his breaks there. He spends most of his time observing, and the rest of his time, mentally translating sentences from English to Italian and vice versa (and yes that's exhausting).
He does however take food incredibly seriously (as most Italians do I feel). His favorite kind of pasta is Paccheri and he will die on the hill that the Italians were the first to make Pizza (who else could make bread, sauce, and cheese taste so good?). He was also incredibly shocked when he found out the drinking age in England was 18. Theo had a glass of wine with dinner every night since the age of ten.
Another thing he doesn't quite understand about England is the frequency through which they drink tea throughout the day. At most, he has a cup a day while some of his English friends have four to five cups a day and usually, one cup with every meal.
Theo also had a very strong connection to his mother. Now that she's gone, he spends a lot of time in his head with his memories of her. It's not all that shocking to anyone really that he doesn't quite have the time or the patience for girls.
Platonically:
As a friend, Theo is a little more open but not much. His two closest friends in the group are you and Lorenzo who's also Italian. He'll talk to either of you and open up a little, but only if no one else is around. He's a bit impartial to Mattheo although he does think the boy is a loose cannon and he actually secretly despises Draco and his blood purity nonsense as it reminds him too much of his father (whom he also hates). So yeah, he spends the majority of his time with Lorenzo and Blaise.
In regards to your friendship with Theo, he's a complete gentleman. He never sits too close in fear of startling or offending you. He opens all of the doors the pair of you walk through and carries your books to class when you have the same class.
In fact, despite being significantly more well mannered than any other boy in your year, the only thing that hinted to you that Theo felt anything towards you other than indifference were small smiles and shared secrets.
Romantically:
Before you even became friends you'd caught Theo's eye. The first time he'd noticed you, you were comforting a crying first year muggle-born that Draco had bullied to tears. You spoke so kindly and softly to the boy. Theo knew then that you weren't like everyone else in Hogwarts. Most people were too afraid to stand up to Draco but the next day, you punched him square in the jaw and told him to stop being such a prick.
The first person to find out about Theo's crush on you was Lorenzo of course. He didn't tease him for which Theo was grateful. Now as stated, Theo is an incredibly quiet person so it's not clear to you that Theo has crush on you.
Also, once Theo has decided that he likes you, other girls don't even approach him anymore. Not after the Ravenclaw incident. A Ravenclaw from your guys' year approached him and asked him out. He didn't even acknowledge her. Just stood up and left.
He does however, make an attempt to spend more time with you whenever her can. He sits with you at meals and during lessons, he asks you for help in charms (even though he's already receiving high marks, but you don't know that). He brings you soup when your sick.
The way that you find out Theo has a crush on you is actually really surprising for you.
Lorenzo came running up to you after Potions one day, completely out of breath. "Y/n! Come quick." He didn't give you any room to disagree as he grasped your wrist firmly and began dragging you down the corridor towards the courtyard. When you got out there, your stomach dropped.
For the first time since meeting him, you saw Theo fight. He had Addrian Pucey on the ground and was currently pummeling the poor boy. The scariest part was that he remained completely calm, cold. Mattheo and Draco were standing on the sidelines egging him on while Theo ruthlessly delivered blow after blow in dead silence. He didn't even wince as his knuckles began to split open and bleed.
Blaise was desperately trying to pull Theo away but he wouldn't budge. Finally, you snapped out of your stupor and approached the boy. As he was throwing punches with his right arm, you approached him from the left and placed a hand on his left shoulder apprehensively. "Theo."
At the sound of your voice, Theo stopped immediately. He didn't look at you immediately. Instead, he stood and kicked Adrian who was on the ground rolling in pain. "Stay away from her." The crowd dispersed as the fight ended. When Theo turned to look at you, his eyes were blazing. For the first time since you'd known him, Theo was burning with rage.
"Theo come on." He let you lead him away in complete silence. Worse than what Adrian had said to you, Theo was ashamed. He couldn't believe that he'd let his emotions take over like that. Now he may have lost you for good. When you finally stopped in a secluded corridor, Theo turned away from you.
"Theo?" He was silent and your concern grew. It wasn't Theo's usual kind of silence, it was a silence that made your heart feel heavy. "Theodore."
"Don't."
"What?"
Finally Theo turns to you and his eyes are glossy. It was startling almost, to see the normally calm and collected boy tearing up. "Don't do that tesoro. Yell, push me, hit me if you need to, but I'm not Theodore. Not to you."
"What happened?" He sighed.
"I overheard Adrian say something completely vile about... you. I couldn't let him talk about you like that. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me cuore. You are the only light in my dark life."
You reached out and grabbed Theo's hands in your own. "That's incredibly sweet of you Theo. But why would you do that for me?"
"Isn't it obvious! I am entirely and irreversibly in love with you. I cannot live without you and I will not allow anyone to say such things about you."
After that, Theo took you out on a date. Thanks to his Pureblood lineage, Theo's family was quite wealthy. And his father had always taken to making sure he was well cared for financially, perhaps out of guilt from his emotional abuse.
For your first date, Theo took you to a London shopping district with his Black Card. At first you refused to spend any of his money. That is until Theo became resigned to buy you everything that your eyes lingered on for more than five seconds despite all your protests.
To end the date, he treated you to a nice dinner and then brought the pair of you back to Hogwarts.
As your boyfriend:
As your boyfriend, Theo's go-to nickname for you is either tesoro (treasure). He spends a lot of time staring at you which Mattheo teases him endlessly for of course.
He wishes you could meet his mother, but he adamantly refuses for you to meet his father. Instead, he introduces you to his grandmother. She teaches you how to make pasta from scratch and you and Theo often sneak into the kitchens at Hogwarts to try and make it there.
He makes it pretty clear that you're the only girl for him. He even tells you one night how his mother's dying wish was for him to find someone that he loved wholeheartedly and who loved him as much. Theo knows that this person is you, and he has no shyness in telling you.
He hates to see you cry, but if for any reason you're feeling sad, he recites Italian poetry to you in a soft and devoted tone.
Questo nostro amore, vita mia
lo prospetti felice
destinato a durare per sempre.
Dei del cielo, fate voi che lei dica il vero,
che lo prometta sincera e dal cuore,
che si possa per tutta la vita
mantener questo patto inviolabile
(This love of ours my life; I predict will be happy; destined to last forever.; Gods of the sky, do what you deem to be true; that promises to be sincere and from the heart,; which can be for a lifetime,; keep this inviolable covenant.)
When Theo speaks his native tongue it makes you a little weak in the knees. The way that his lips curve around the words and his tongue effortlessly forms each syllable makes your heart swell.
Overall:
Italian Theo is a complete cutie with impeccable manners and expresses more romance in ten minutes with you than most men express in their entire lives. He sees you as a light that brightens his life that he will do anything to protect.
----
help this is so bad
#slytherin boys#slytherin#theodore nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#slytherin boys x reader#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini
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Recognizing AI Generated Images, Danmei Edition
Heyo, @unforth here! I run some danmei art blogs (@mdzsartreblogs, @tgcfartreblogs, @svsssartreblogs, @zhenhunartreblogs, @erhaartreblogs, @dmbjartreblogs, @tykartreblogs, and @cnovelartreblogs) which means I see a LOT of danmei art, and I go through the main fandom tags more-or-less every day.
Today, for the first time, I spotted someone posting AI-generated images (I refuse to call them AI "art" - and to be clear, that's correct of me, because at least in the US it literally LEGALLY isn't art) without any label indicating they were AI generated. I am not necessarily against the existence of AI-generated images (though really...considering all the legal issues and the risks of misuse, I'm basically against them); I think they potentially have uses in certain contexts (such as for making references) and I also think that regardless of our opinions, we're stuck with them, but they're also clearly not art and I don't reblog them to the art side blogs.
The images I spotted today had multiple "tells," but they were still accumulating notes, and I thought it might be a good moment to step back and point out some of the more obvious tells because my sense is that a LOT of people are against AI-generated images being treated as art, and that these people wouldn't want to support an AI-generator user who tried to foist off their work as actual artwork, but that people don't actually necessarily know how to IDENTIFY those works and therefore can inadvertently reblog works that they'd never support if they were correctly identified. (Similar to how the person who reposts and says "credit to the artist" is an asshole but they're not the same as someone who reposts without any credit at all and goes out of their way to make it look like they ARE the artist when they're not).
Toward that end, I've downloaded all the images I spotted on this person's account and I'm going to use them to highlight the things that led me to think they were AI art - they posted a total of 5 images to a few major danmei tags the last couple days, and several other images not to specific fandoms (I examined 8 images total). The first couple I was suspicious, but it wasn't til this morning that I spotted one so obvious that it couldn't be anything BUT AI art. I am NOT going to name the person who did this. The purpose of this post is purely educational. I have no interest whatsoever in bullying one rando. Please don't try to identify them; who they are is genuinely irrelevant, what matters is learning how to recognize AI art in general and not spreading it around, just like the goal of education about reposting is to help make sure that people who repost don't get notes on their theft, to help people recognize the signs so that the incentive to be dishonest about this stuff is removed.
But first: Why is treating AI-generated images as art bad?
I'm no expert and this won't be exhaustive, but I do think it's important to first discuss why this matters.
On the surface, it's PERHAPS harmless for someone to post AI-generated images provided that the image is clearly labeled as AI-generated. I say "perhaps" because in the end, as far as I'm aware, there isn't a single AI-generation engine that's built on legally-sourced artwork. Every AI (again, to the best of my knowledge) has been trained using copyrighted images usually without the permission of the artists. Indeed, this is the source of multiple current lawsuits. (and another)
But putting that aside (as if it can be put aside that AI image generators are literally unethically built), it's still problematic to support the images being treated as art. Artists spend thousands of hours learning their craft, honing it, sharing their creations, building their audiences. This is what they sell when they offer commissions, prints, etc. This can never be replicated by a computer, and to treat an AI-generated image as in any way equivalent is honestly rude, inappropriate, disgusting imo. This isn't "harmless"; supporting AI image creation engines is damaging to real people and their actual livelihoods. Like, the images might be beautiful, but they're not art. I'm honestly dreading someone managing to convince fandom that their AI-generated works are actual art, and then cashing in on commissions, prints, etc., because people can't be fussed to learn the difference. We really can't let this happen, guys. Fanartists are one of the most vibrant, important, prominent groups in all our fandoms, and we have to support them and do our part to protect them.
As if those two points aren't enough, there's already growing evidence that AI-generated works are being used to further propagandists. There are false images circulating of violence at protests, deep-fakes of various kinds that are helping the worst elements of society to push their horrid agendas. As long as that's a facet of AI-generated works, they'll always be dangerous.
I could go on, but really this isn't the main point of my post and I don't want to get bogged down. Other people have said more eloquently than I why AI-generated images are bad. Read those. (I tried to find a good one to link but sadly failed; if anyone knows a good post, feel free to send it and I'll add the link to the post).
Basically: I think a legally trained AI-image generator that had built-in clear watermarks could be a fun toy for people who want reference images or just to play with making pseudo-art. But...that's not what we have, and what we do have is built on theft and supports dystopia so, uh. Yeah fuck AI-generated images.
How to recognize AI-Generated Images Made in an Eastern Danmei Art Style
NOTE: I LEARNED ALL THE BASIC ON SPOTTING AI-GENERATED IMAGES FROM THIS POST. I'll own I still kinda had the wool over my eyes until I read that post - I knew AI stuff was out there but I hadn't really looked closely enough to have my eyes open for specific signs. Reading that entire post taught me a lot, and what I learned is the foundation of this post.
This post shouldn't be treated as a universal guide. I'm specifically looking at the tells on the kind of art that people in danmei fandoms often see coming from Weibo and other Chinese, Japanese, and Korean platforms, works made by real artists. For example, the work of Foxking (狐狸大王a), kokirapsd, and Changyang (who is an official artist for MDZS, TGCF, and other danmei works). This work shares a smooth use of color, an aim toward a certain flavor of realism, an ethereal quality to the lighting, and many other features. (Disclaimer: I am not an artist. Putting things in arty terms is really not my forte. Sorry.)
So, that's what these AI-generated images are emulating. And on the surface, they look good! Like...
...that's uncontestably a pretty picture (the white box is covering the "artist's" watermark.) And on a glance, it doesn't necessarily scream "AI generated"! But the devil is in the details, and the details are what this post is about. And that picture? Is definitely AI generated.
This post is based on 8 works I grabbed from a single person's account, all posted as their own work and watermarked as such. Some of the things that are giveaways only really show when looking at multiple pieces. I'm gonna start with those, and then I'll highlight some of the specifics I spotted that caused me to go from "suspicious" to "oh yeah no these are definitely not art."
Sign 1: all the images are the exact same size. I mean, to the pixel: 512 x 682 pixels (or 682 x 512, depending on landscape or portrait orientation). This makes zero sense. Why would an artist trim all their pieces to that size? It's not the ideal Tumblr display size (that's 500 x 750 pixels). If you check any actual artist's page and look at the full-size of several of their images, they'll all be different sizes as they trimmed, refined, and otherwise targeted around their original canvas size to get the results they wanted.
Sign 2: pixelated. At the shrunken size displayed on, say, a mobile Tumblr feed, the image looks fine, but even just opening the full size upload, the whole thing is pixelated. Now, this is probably the least useful sign; a lot of artists reduce the resolution/dpi/etc. on their uploaded works so that people don't steal them. But, taken in conjunction with everything else, it's definitely a sign.
Those are the two most obvious overall things - the things I didn't notice until I looked at all the uploads. The specifics are really what tells, though. Which leads to...
Sign 3: the overall work appears to have a very high degree of polish, as if it were made by an artist who really really knows what they're doing, but on inspection - sometimes even on really, REALLY cursory inspect - the details make zero sense and reflect the kinds of mistakes that a real artist would never make.
So, here's the image that I saw that "gave it away" to me, and caused me to re-examine the images that had first struck me as off but that I hadn't been able to immediately put my finger on the problem. I've circled some of the spots that are flagrant.
Do you see yet? Yes? Awesome, you're getting it. No? Okay, let's go point by point, with close ups.
Sign 4: HANDS. Hands are currently AI's biggest weakness, though they've been getting better quickly and honestly that's terrifying. But whatever AI generated this picture clearly doesn't get hands yet, because that hand is truly an eldritch horror. Look at this thing:
It has two palms. It has seven fingers. It's basically two hands overlaid over each other, except one of those hands only has four fingers and the other has three. Seeing this hand was how I went from "umm...maybe they're fake? Maybe they're not???" to "oh god why is ANYONE reblogging this when it's this obvious?" WATCH THE HANDS. (Go back up to that first one posted and look at the hand, you'll see. Or just look right below at this crop.) Here's some other hands:
Sign 5: Hair and shadows. Once I started inspecting these images, the shadows of the hair on the face was one of the things that was most consistently fucked up across all the uploaded pictures. Take a look:
There's shadows of tendrils on the forehead, but there's no corresponding hair that could possibly have made those shadows. Likewise there's a whole bunch of shadows on the cheeks. Where are those coming from? There's no possible source in the rest of the image. Here's some other hair with unrelated wonky shadows:
Sign 6: Decorative motifs that are really just meaningless squiggles. Like, artists, especially those who make fanart, put actual thought into what the small motifs are on their works. Like, in TGCF, an artist will often use a butterfly motif or a flower petal motif to reflect things about the characters. An AI, though, can only approximate a pattern and it can't imbue those with meanings. So you end up with this:
What is that? It's nothing, that's what. It's a bunch of squiggles. Here's some other meaningless squiggle motifs (and a more zoomed-in version of the one just above):
Sign 7: closely related to meaningless squiggle motifs is motifs that DO look like something, but aren't followed through in any way that makes sense. For example, an outer garment where the motifs on the left and the right shoulder/chest are completely different, or a piece of cloth that's supposed to be all one piece but that that has different patterns on different sections of it. Both of these happen in the example piece, see?
The first images on the top left is the left and right shoulder side by side. The right side has a scalloped edge; the left doesn't. Likewise, in the right top picture, you can see the two under-robe lapels; one has a gold decoration and the other doesn't. And then the third/bottom image shows three sections of the veil. One (on the left) has that kind of blue arcy decoration, which doesn't follow the folds of the cloth very well and looks weird and appears at one point to be OVER the hair instead of behind it. The second, on top of the bottom images, shows a similar motif, except now it's gold, and it looks more like a hair decoration than like part of the veil. The third is also part of the same veil but it has no decorations at all. Nothing about this makes any sense whatsoever. Why would any artist intentionally do it that way? Or, more specifically, why would any artist who has this apparent level of technical skill ever make a mistake like this?
They wouldn't.
Some more nonsensical patterns, bad mirrors, etc. (I often put left/right shoulders side by side so that it'd be clearer, sorry if it's weird):
Sign 8: bizarre architecture, weird furniture, etc. Most of the images I'm examining for this post have only partial backgrounds, so it's hard to really focus on this, but it's something that the post I linked (this one) talks about a lot. So, like, an artist will put actual thought into how their construction works, but an AI won't because an AI can't. There's no background in my main example image, but take a look at this from another of my images:
On a glance it's beautiful. On a few seconds actually staring it's just fucking bizarre. The part of the ceiling on the right appears to be domed maybe? But then there's a hard angle, then another. The windows on the right have lots of panes, but then the one on the middle-left is just a single panel, and the ones on the far left have a complete different pane model. Meanwhile, also on the left side at the middle, there's that dark gray...something...with an arch that mimics the background arches except it goes no where, connects to nothing, and has no apparent relationship to anything else going on architecturally. And, while the ceiling curves, the back wall is straight AND shows more arches in the background even though the ceiling looks to end. And yes, some of this is possible architecture, but taken as a whole, it's just gibberish. Why would anyone who paints THAT WELL paint a building to look like THAT? They wouldn't. It's nonsense. It's the art equivalent of word salad. When we look at a sentence and it's like "dog makes a rhythmical salad to betray on the frame time plot" it almost resembles something that might mean something but it's clearly nonsense. This background is that sentence, as art.
Sign 9: all kinds of little things that make zero sense. In the example image, I circled where a section of the hair goes BELOW the inner robe. That's not impossible but it just makes zero sense. As with many of these, it's the kind of thing that taken alone, I'd probably just think "well, that was A Choice," but combined with all the other weird things it stands out as another sign that something here is really, really off. Here's a collection of similar "wtf?" moments I spotted across the images I looked at (I'm worried I'm gonna hit the Tumblr image cap, hence throwing these all in one, lol.)
You have to remember that an actual artist will do things for a reason. And we, as viewers, are so used to viewing art with that in mind that we often fill in reasons even when there aren't. Like, in the image just about this, I said, "what the heck are these flowers growing on?" And honestly, I COULD come up with explanations. But that doesn't mean it actually makes sense, and there's no REASON for it whatsoever. The theoretical same flowers are, in a different shot, growing unsupported! So...what gives??? The answer is nothing gives. Because these pieces are nothing. The AI has no reason, it's just tossing in random aesthetic pieces together in a mishmash, and the person who generated them is just re-generating and refining until they get something that looks "close enough" to what they wanted. It never was supposed to make sense, so of course it doesn't.
In conclusion...
After years of effort, artists have gotten across to most of fandom that reposts are bad, and helped us learn strategies for helping us recognize reposts, and given us an idea of what to do when we find one.
Fandom is just at the beginning of this process as it applies to AI-generated images. There's a LOT of education that has to be done - about why AI-generated images are bad (the unethical training using copyrighted images without permission is, imo, critical to understanding this), and about how to spot them, and then finally about what to do when you DO find them.
With reposts, we know "tell original artist, DCMA takedowns, etc." That's not the same with these AI-images. There's no original owner. There's no owner at all - in the US, at least, they literally cannot be copyrighted. Which is why I'm not even worrying about "credit" on this post - there's nothing stolen, cause there's nothing made. So what should you do?
Nothing. The answer is, just as the creator has essentially done nothing, you should also do nothing. Don't engage. Don't reblog. Don't commission the creator or buy their art prints. If they do it persistently and it bothers you, block them. If you see one you really like, and decide to reblog it, fine, go for it, but mark it clearly - put in the ACTUAL COMMENTS (not just in the tags!) that it's AI art, and that you thought it was pretty anyway. But honestly, it'd be better to not engage, especially since as this grows it's inevitable that some actual artists are going to start getting accused of posting AI-generated images by over-zealous people. Everyone who gets a shadow wrong isn't posting AI-generated images. A lot of these details are insanely difficult to get correct, and lots of even very skilled, accomplished artists, if you go over their work with a magnifying glass you're going to find at least some of these things, some weirdnesses that make no sense, some shadows that are off, some fingers that are just ugh (really, getting hands wrong is so relatable. hands are the fucking worst). It's not about "this is bad art/not art because the hand is wrong," it's specifically about the ways that it's wrong, the way a computer randomly throws pieces together versus how actual people make actual mistakes. It's all of the little signs taken as a whole to say "no one who could produce a piece that, on the surface, looks this nice, could possibly make THIS MANY small 'mistakes.'"
The absolute best thing you can do if you see AI-generated images being treated as real art is just nothing. Support actual artists you love, and don't spread the fakes.
Thanks for your time, everyone. Good luck avoiding AI-generated pieces in the future, please signal boost this, and feel free to get in touch if you think I can help you with anything related to this.
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The real-world impact of Lore Olympus
i.e. do your research Rachel
Trigger warning: racism, fetishization, appropriation, mentions of SA
Long post ahead
A while ago, someone told me that Lore Olympus was just a silly little comic written out of boredom. That it was made to be "funny". They told me that "[I] can't hope [for] an extremely [well-written] story when it was just made with the intention to make something goofy" and that if Rachel actually wanted to make something serious like I had, she would write a book and not a comic.
At the time of this exchange, it was past 1 a.m. and I was exhausted. I did not want to argue with this person and it simply wasn't worth my time or energy in the moment.
But looking back at that (mostly one-sided) interaction, I can't help but think that there is so much wrong with that point of view. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion about Lore Olympus, whether good or bad. But Lore Olympus isn't just some silly little nothing comic about nothing important. It is a comic that actively appropriates and erases Greek Culture. It is a comic that has no respect for the actual stories that have been passed down over thousands of years whether by word of mouth or written text. It is a comic that perpetuates a false narrative and harmful stereotypes about characters or certain groups of people. So, no, it's not just a silly little comic.
Incorrect information
Here’s an example of what I mean:
When I was doing research for my post about the 10 year time skip, I looked up Leuce to reconfirm the little information I knew about her. Wanna guess the first thing that popped up about her?
A Lore Olympus Wiki article.
Okay. How about Minthe? Hundreds of pictures of her from Lore Olympus and a LO Wiki article as one of the top 3 results. Both character are horribly represented in LO and unfortunately there isn’t really any documented stories or records that can refute how LO paints them. Because of this, other characters in Greek Mythology like Leuce and Minthe, whose stories have little to no documentation, stand to suffer the most harm from deliberate misrepresentation on Rachel’s part.
Of course well-known and better documented figures in Greek mythology face slander as well. What about Thetis or Leto? How about Apollo? All of their portrayals in LO are HORRIBLE. I have seen people online absolutely drag them to filth not because they're upset about how the character is portrayed compared to their mythological counterpart, but because they have no knowledge of how they are actually portrayed outside of LO. They just assume that's how the characters are. Similarly, people who have either very little or no prior knowledge of Greek Mythology and Culture would look at the comic and go "Yep, sounds legit. It must be true." and go about thinking that what is portrayed in LO is accurate to what was transcribed thousands of years ago.
Creative interpretations and racism/fetishization within LO
Don’t get me wrong. Creative interpretations and artistic liberties can be great. When they’re done tastefully. I personally think if done correctly, a Greek myth spun in a modern way has the potential be very good. But that's not what we were given.
Characters like Minthe, Leuce, and Thetis (all nymphs btw) are portrayed as trashy tramps who put out and are used as a foil sabotage Persephone and/or her relationship with Hades. Compare that to Greek Mythology where in the Iliad, Thetis is very well-respected by the gods, particularly Hera. Unfortunately, other similar characters like satrys (and basically any character that isn’t a god) are usually portrayed as a low-class POC that can be easily exploited, manipulated, or used as a temporary villain/lover/pawn to “get back” at Persephone, our white-coded protagonist who can do no wrong.
Additionally, there is a clear race/class bias against characters like nymphs in LO. We see many cases scattered throughout the comic of gods like Hera or Aphrodite referring to nymphs as "trash" or "low class" or the idea that nymphs do not belong with gods being heavily implied if not outright said. I cannot tell you how often I've seen Minthe be called some variant of "cheap" by the readers of LO. Even Persephone (who created the flower nymphs) treats them with such disrespect. She frequently calls them some variant of "stupid" or "simple" like saying how they're not the sharpest crayons in the box even though she's the one WHO MADE THEM. However, it's so odd not really to note that nymphs like Echo, Amphitrite, or Psyche (who was previously disguised as a nymph) are not discriminated against. This is because they are liked or trusted by the gods they are around and ergo are often portrayed as the "good ones", which is a disgusting mindset to have.
We also see the fetishization of nymphs in the comic that is disturbingly similar to the fetishization of women who are Black, Asian, or Latina. It is a known fact that Hades has a flower nymph fetish. Not only is this implied in the comic, but Rachel stated it outright in an old Patreon post. Nymphs are also generally treated as sex-symbols, disposable, and as a lesser-than. Zeus frequently displays this behavior by abandoning nymphs he knocked up in the mortal realm.
For example, when Persephone finds out Apollo is dating Daphne, she isn't upset he's dating her friend. She's upset he's dating a flower nymph, beings that are generally considered to be "rare", "dumb", and objects of sexual desire. Ew.
Even on the Lore Olympus website (loreolympians.com) nymphs are regarded as "beautiful", "desirable", and "very exotic". And when they're not described in a sexual manner they're say it with me now regarded as "low class" or "workers" for some kind of god/goddess.
Final thoughts
So not only is the characterization of characters like Minthe or Thetis harmful to Greek culture and the stories that are so ingrained in their society, but it is also perpetuating harmful stereotypes about people of color and women who are confident in their sexuality.
Of course, the characters within Greek Mythology had their own issues. Zeus was a serial rapist, many of the goddesses deemed to be "feminist" by today's standards were actually horribly misogynistic looking at you Athena. But 1. that's just how things were back then (but that does not make it right) and 2. all of the good, the bad, and the ugly is still there in Greek Mythology. They're not denying how fucked up it is, but they're also not changing their history to better fit their own narrative or the narrative of the modern world. It exists, it happened, but now it is studied and called out by historians.
Rachel, on the other hand, is doing exactly that. She is actively changing the Greek's cultural history to better fit her fic's narrative. She is constantly sweeping things under the rug or going "No this is how it ACTUALLY happened". Lore Olympus is marketed as a "feminist retelling" yet somehow, it takes allllll the ugly parts from Greek Mythology (rape, incest, problematic age gaps, dubious consent, etc.), mixes it with a majority of the issues we have in the modern world (white feminism, rape-apologists/rape culture, grooming, fetishization of certain minority groups, etc.) and then amplifies the concoction to 20. Lore Olympus cannot be a "progressive, feminist, retelling" and also have characters that are morally apprehensive/come straight from the ancient myths. It does not work. In fact, IMO it makes all the problems from both eras worse.
News flash: actual cultures that are still thriving today are not your toys. They are not "made up". They matter. Do better.
#anti lore olympus#lore olympus#anti lo persephone#anti lo#lore olympus criticism#lore olympus critical#lo critic#lo critical#unpopular lo#unpopular lore olympus#appropriation#greek mythology#if anyone who is actually Greek wants to comment on this or share their thoughts please feel free#I'm not Greek but I have a deep love for mythology/Greek culture so this is just my take on things
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You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)
Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)
Word Count - 2k
Enjoy!
xxx
As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit.
Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon.
“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.”
“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’”
“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled. “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.”
Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm.
“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.”
“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her.
The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned.
“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked.
“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.”
“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice.
“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.”
Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.”
“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back.
“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion.
Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew.
You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.
At least, you were trying to.
“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.”
“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.”
You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often.
‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from.
“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.”
“Oh no, something far better.”
Now you really were at a loss.
“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?”
“I mean sex, darling.”
This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else.
“What?”
The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach.
“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.”
“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in.
“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.”
A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more.
“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!”
“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt.
“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.”
“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?”
You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part.
“Alright, you can stop now,” you said.
“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.”
You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?”
Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended.
“You think I’m joking?”
“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.
“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?”
“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?”
“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.”
You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.
A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them?
“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.”
Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on.
It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one.
The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling.
It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who.
‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’
As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist.
“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile.
“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.”
“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way.
“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?”
You squint at him suspiciously.
“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.”
Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did.
As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance.
Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.”
“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak.
“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?”
A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then?
You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind.
Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation.
“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.”
“That you... like me?”
“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.”
Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions
“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.”
The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.”
Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding.
With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering.
As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful.
xxx
Links to my other Astarion works
Everything's Fine
Restless
Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you
Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers
#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion ancunin#my writing#fanfiction#request
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A World Where Things Went Right: Snippet #1
Enjoy suckers. This is going to be the angstiest of angst once I get it finished. Just you all wait. I warned you I had shipping pain in store.
The snippet isn't that long, but well... the fic will likely be WAY longer at the rate I am writing.
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“So this is it.” There was no question in his tone as Ratchet stared at the space bridge as it powered on. Their ship had long since been left to float through the dead of space, all remaining power having been diverted to this last leap, this final chance to make a difference.
“Yes.” Optimus answered simply, his voice weak from long vorns of exhaustion and malnutrition. He did not smile as he sat in his chair connected to a thousand and one wires. The Matrix glowed faintly in his exposed spark chamber, seemingly at peace with the connectors that were hooked into it. This was the end, and even the relic knew it.
“I won’t be able to come back, will I?” No response greeted his question as Ratchet stared out into the void outside their ship. They were the last, at least to their knowledge. Even if others had survived, the Unmaker’s reign was in full swing. He would get them all eventually, or failing that, the lack of energon would kill off whatever remained of their species soon enough.
The stabbing pain in his tanks reminded Ratchet of just how much time he had left. Ratchet had been given what little remained of their stores so that he would be able to endure the journey. Optimus did not look nearly as healthy, not that Ratchet was healthy by any definition of the word either.
“When this is done, the Matrix will have no more power to give. This place, our universe… it will be no more.” Optimus’s weakened voice echoed in the ship and Ratchet found his servos clenched into fists. He had long ago accepted the deaths of the remainder of their kind. Vorns upon vorns of watching those he loved be picked off tended to have that effect. Still, the idea of everything fading away… it ached.
He wanted to die beside his Conjunx, not abandon him to the coming darkness.
“Why can’t it be you?” Ratchet knew the answer to his question even as he uttered it into the relative silence of their shuttle. Optimus needed to power the space bridge. Relics were the only objects known to be able to tear through the seams of reality. The Matrix was the only relic that remained. It was the only possible tool that could be used, and since it was bound to Optimus, he needed to stay behind. Sending him through with the Matrix serving as a power source at the same time was asking for a catastrophic explosion that would kill them both.
Although, if Ratchet were honest, he wouldn’t mind that outcome at this point.
“You know that this is the only viable option. Not only are you the only mech capable of stepping through that portal, your presence was always one which did not warrant much suspicion.” Ratchet looked over to his Conjunx, his optics cycling in tiredly on the emaciated mech before him. Optimus no longer had the luster of a mech of his station. His limbs were thin from disuse and his armor had largely grayed. His face was gaunt and his spark flared weakly in his chassis behind the Matrix.
He didn’t have long left either.
“I know that… I just wish we could have greeted the end together.” Ratchet’s servos shook and he felt coolant gather in his optics as he stepped forward to the one mech in the universe who gave his life meaning. Optimus smiled sadly and drew Ratchet in for a gentle embrace. It was cold, neither of them healthy enough to produce more than the barest heat signatures. The wires that connected to the Matrix slithered along the exposed seams of Ratchet’s form, but he paid them no mind as he rested his face in the crook of his Conjunx’s neck.
“I would have given anything to stay with you my love, but now… this has grown beyond us. We must perform our final function.” Optimus’s words echoed in Ratchet’s mind, and all he could do was cry.
“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” His vents hitched as Ratchet clung to Optimus’s frail form. His dear Conjunx merely rubbed small circles onto his back while humming a soft tune. He could hear the space bridge power on behind him and sense his bond to his Prime growing weaker along with it. This was it. This was their final farewell. Ratchet had been preparing for this moment for vorns as they worked on the calculations needed to make this grand effort successful, but it still felt like his spark was being torn asunder.
Ratchet was not the first to go through the portal. Others had gone, and all had vanished without a trace. Bumblebee and Smokescreen were by far the most notable losses. Without a way to confirm if they had survived, only a few attempts to send mecha through the portal had been made. There was no way to be certain it even did anything. For all Ratchet knew, he would be vaporized the moment he stepped into the portal. Despite that, it was a chance for one of them to make it out alive, and he wanted to hope if only for Optimus’s sake.
He wanted to believe that their desperate struggle to preserve something of their dead universe would have meaning. Two of their sons had been lost to the cause. For them, he begged their deceased god with all his spark, praying that this would work.
“It is time.” Optimus’s voice was a mere whisper as Ratchet finally pulled away. A small holodisk sat heavy in his servo as Optimus passed it to him. Ratchet couldn’t bear to look at it as he put it into his carrying compartment. They had an agreement, one that Ratchet did not understand but would adhere to anyway.
The disk was Optimus’s final message, and Ratchet was only to play it when ‘Megatron' became relevant’. He didn’t know what that entailed, but as their universe crumbled, Optimus saw things that others did not. Visions, echoes of a different time and place. It was not Ratchet’s place to doubt him now.
He burned the image of his dying Conjunx’s gentle smile into his memory as he steeled himself and stepped in front of the swirling space bridge. His spark cried out as he sensed Optimus growing weaker, but he merely grit his denta and spared one final glance at the light of his life.
He couldn’t hear the words, but as the light began to fade from Optimus’s optics, Ratchet could have sworn the glyphs echoed in his very spark.
“I love you.”
It took all his strength to step into the portal and leave the plane of existence he knew and the mech he loved behind.
━━━━━━
Colors assaulted his vision in every conceivable hue. Sounds he could never describe in a million vorns collided with his audials. There was no up or down, there was no sense of stability amidst the vortex. Despite that, Ratchet kept walking on ground that he could neither feel or see. He pushed onward, using what little strength remained in his weak frame to break into a sprint as he sensed his tie to his Conjunx finally snap. He couldn’t tell if he screamed, sobbed, or cursed as he pushed on, but it didn’t matter much within the seams of reality.
Agony burned in his spark, emotions battled in his processors, and exhaustion weighed heavy in every part of his frame. Combined with the endless colors and sounds around him, it was all too overwhelming to consider. He had never felt so alone as he had in that seemingly endless moment walking between the gaps in the universe. Memories filtered across his vision in strange hallucinations and shapes as he dragged himself through the sea of light. Some were pleasant and depicted the good times he had with Optimus and later the soft moments they shared together raising Bumblebee. Others were… less joyful.
Burning cities, plague, bodies piled high, the exodus, the slow death of their species, the Unmaker’s awakening, the deaths of all those he held dear, and of course, that last spark crushing moment he shared with his Prime. The many long vorns of strife, the slow loss of hope… as much as it hurt, it pushed him on through the barrage of sensation and the simultaneous lack of it.
Finally, after what could have been mere nanokliks or a whole eternity, Ratchet emerged from the space between realities. Something shifted in him as he did so, and a harsh pain assaulted his very being. His consciousness sharpened, and he sensed another mind pressing up against his. He knew this hypothetical, and while not trained in how to handle it, Ratchet pushed on. His mind pressed against the other and he was quick to assert his dominance through memory and emotion. His spark screamed at the loss of his Conjunx and the memories of all he’d had taken from him. Conviction he needed to fulfill his final function propelled him until at last, the other far less tempered mind shattered.
He returned to himself suddenly as he stood up. A universe could not handle more than one version of the same individual. Only one could exist at a time, at least according to Perceptor’s calculations. Looking around him, he could see that he was inside of his old hab before the war. It was a distant memory, one that he hardly recalled after so long. And yet, it was familiar to see his certification hung on the wall and his usual additives on the counter.
The scene was broken only by the unfortunate reality of his actions and the consequences thereof. At his pedes was the barely venting form of his counterpart, the mech in question looking up at him in fear. Ratchet knelt down and placed a servo on his counterpart’s helm and hummed a gentle tune as he did with all his dying patients. His counterpart eased a degree at the song. They both knew the melody and what it meant. Both had long accepted it.
Within a klik, the other Ratchet’s optics went dark and his frame faded away without any fanfare. There could only be one, and Ratchet had taken his younger and inexperienced counterpart’s place. Such was the cost of the knowledge he carried.
Guilt hung heavy in his spark, but it was smothered as Ratchet steeled himself. There would be time to think later, preferably when his work was done and he could afford to be catatonic from loss.
“Forgive me for taking your life from you. But I promise, I will make this worth it.” Ratchet sighed as he stood and watched the form of his counterpart vanish. There was much to do, and his counterpart was now little more than a memory. He would do something to honor him later. For the time being, he had more pressing issues.
“Primus, they won’t think I am the same mech if I go around looking like this.” He grimaced as he walked over to the nearest mirror. He looked every bit the wartorn survivor of Cybertron. His armor was in shambles and he looked like he hadn’t gotten a deep clean in millennia. Of course he hadn’t done any real maintenance on his frame since the Unmaker destroyed Primus’s core, but others didn’t know that. He just looked like a horror movie extra.
It wouldn’t do. A slight vanishing act may be in order if he wanted to have a reasonable excuse for his appearance.
#transformers#maccadam#transformers prime#optimus prime#ratchet#optiratch#alternate universe#angst#major character death#dimension travel#fanfiction#fanfic snippet
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Wait but how do you draw faces???? ): Do you have more suggestions for that sort of thing?
oh faces! i'm going to assume you're drawing in a semi(?) realistic/ anime-ish style? that's kinda the style i'm familiar with, if you're going for a super 2D graphical style then a lot of my advice won't really apply! i'll put it under the cut
1) I think the most important thing for faces is to always keep in mind the 3D form and planes of the face. Looking at a lot of simplified art (like anime) is a little detrimental for this because it's easy to think the features of the face are just kinda pasted on
Here's a tool from William Nguyen that lets you play around with any angle and light source you desire for heads! It really emphasizes the 3D form and especially the planes of the face. It's helped me out a ton!
Sinix has a video on drawing faces from any angle from imagination (no reference), again focusing on the 3D nature of faces. For individual features of the face (eyes, nose, mouth, etc) he has a playlist of anatomy tutorials!
- I advise against turning to memory and iconography for features of the face (like 👁️ and 👄) Icons like these are useful when the 2D shape is more important for communicating information quickly like in standardized hazard signs. But for more realistic drawing, you want to rely on the 3D form so these simplistic drawings can be jarring in certain styles when in the context of a full human face. This Proko video mentions that you should treat the features of the face like the eye as just another abstract form and not think of it specifically as an "eye" (Proko's channel is also a good general art resource)
2) basic proportions
This is about where specific features of the face are located. I never really studied this on its own, but I think drawing a lot just got me familiar with it. I'm hesitant to link a specific resource here because I didn't really use any myself;; while this isn't as exhaustive as I'd like, I like how Marc Brunet explains it! (Although I'm not a big fan of how he delineates male/female faces and facial features so black and white...? like don't feel obligated to stick to that specific face shape for female characters TTOTT i think it can get pretty redundant compared to the diversity of the male faces he draws)
- Facial proportions change with age! So you should be mindful of it depending on how old the character that you're drawing is
3) expressions
Drawing faces means you're gonna have to draw expressions, even if that expression is a neutral face. I'm admittedly not the best at this, but try pushing the expressions to their extremes to make them more interesting (of course depends on context). 2D disney expressions/concept art accomplish this perfectly and are a good reference to study from (I personally enjoy Shiyoon Kim's concept art!)
- Note how when you cry, the entire face (+body) moves to create that expression. It's not just a tear falling down the cheek, it's the eyebrows furrowing, the muscles around the eyes scrunching in(?), mucus running down the nose, mouth and lips tightening, eyes and nose becoming red, shoulders hunching up, etc.
- as a small aside I want to emphasize the importance of eyebrows because I avoided drawing them/ moving them around more when I started learning to draw, don't do that!! they're crucial for drawing expressions!
4) diversity
Try depicting facial diversity to make a character unique and more interesting!
- semirealism helped me turn away from the hyperstylization of certain anime styles where a lot of these unique features are smoothed away. Things like wrinkles around the brows/eyes/mouth, eye/nose/mouth shape and size, facial bone structure, facial hair, etc really help to individualize a character/ capture their likeness
- also people of different races have different facial features that you should be mindful of. I don't feel knowledgeable enough to give specific advice on this, but if you're unfamiliar with something please use references!!
This can be challenging especially in stylized drawing, since you tend to have to pick and choose what you choose to depict. For example, I find that trying to draw out all the wrinkles of a character, while it may be accurate, it just doesn't fit my style. I therefore have to balance the amount of details to include to achieve a character's likeness. However, stylization also allows you to emphasize those unique features which makes a character more memorable to me!
as another example this is a personal trick i use but i've found drawing the bottom lip helps make a more masculine face, and drawing the top lip as well for a more feminine face...??? idk why this works for me (and it may not work for you!) but yeah try playing around with what details you include/exclude and see what you end up liking!
okie I think that's all I have for faces..? hopefully i'm not missing anything... again I prefer to let actual teachers give specific advice on how to draw, I feel more comfortable talking about general ideas and referring you to better sources that you can learn from first-hand!
also I think in my efforts to explain the key aspects of drawing faces I've kind of made it seem like I follow strict delineated steps... no I truly just wing it every time I draw TTOTT I just think these points are important to keep in mind so that when you amass more knowledge about them you can internalize it to become a habit!
enough yapping from me thank you for your ask! i hope this can be of help to you 🫡💞
#my asks#art resources#edit just realized this may have been more about how i draw faces like step by step and not so generalized TTOTT#i'm sorry if i didn't really answer your question correctly TTOTT;;;
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Can you actually write something smutty for Viktor? Or just a guide on how to? I really want to write some Viktor smut, but I'm worried I won't do his disability justice as I'm able bodied and a dumbass
Of my twelve years on this webbed site, this has got to be the best ask I have ever received lmao
I would be happy to help, friend. I'll answer this in two parts.
Yes, I am planning on writing Viktor smut for Viktor x Anya. I had a lot happen in the year since I made the post you're referencing, but I've finally been able to get back into fandom stuff. I wanted to lay some backstory with them first though, as I am apparently a PWP kind of person lmao. It's coming soon! (No pun intended).
You've taken the first great step in recognizing that your experience and knowledge may not be congruent with potential portrayal, and therefore asking for advice. I don't mean to sound patronizing at all. I am an author and I have seen many professional authors that don't do this, so you're already ahead of the game! I wouldn't consider that dumbassery in any way, shape, or form.
I'll put the rest under a cut due to the nature of this post.
*Disclaimer to this is, of course, I don't speak for every disabled person, this list isn't extensive, and these are my opinions.
I, personally, operate under the assumption that Viktor has Post Polio Syndrome. Looking at photographs (x, x, x) it's pretty clear the animators used PPS as a framework for Viktor's movements and posture, as well as his mobility and assistive devices. People with PPS often develop need for braces, canes or crutches, and treatment for scoliosis -- all of which Viktor has. You are more than welcome to headcanon something different, as I don't believe the writers or animators have ever confirmed or denied PPS, but based on my own experience and research, I would bet money on it.
That being said -- regardless of PPS, or otherwise -- the first thing to consider when writing smut for any disabled character is fatigue. It may not be the obvious thing, as mobility devices often are the first thing to catch an observer's eye. But there is so much that goes on beneath mobility devices. Fatigue is a big one.
Consider the worst flu you've ever had -- all the time, every day, even in your sleep. It can be maddening, like you can't get any relief -- even if you take pain reliever or use other analgesics. Most people with a severe flu aren't exactly in the mood to be frisky, especially spontaneously. Many physically disabled people rely on preplanning. Having a date night where they can plan for extra pain reliever, or where they can schedule the rest of their day or week to conserve energy for a special night. The psychological energy that people need to conserve alone can take a lot of effort. Being disabled is also mentally exhausting, especially when you have a partner and their needs to consider. Giving a disabled person time to prepare for sex (or other tasks) is essential.
Related to that, is the fact the energy levels aren't always consistent. A disabled person and their lover could be going at it like rabbits for a while and then suddenly the disabled partner may need to stop because their "battery" (their physical energy levels) has run out. They may need a break for a few minutes, or they may just need to end the sexual encounter altogether.
The worst thing you (or your character) could do is take this personally. It has nothing to do with their partner, it's their body that is (frustratingly [on many levels]) not cooperating.
Something to toy with (no pun intended) when writing characters with energy level deficits is vibrators. Twice the work with half the effort. Don't be afraid to write smut with toys and vibrators -- it doesn't even have to be kinky. Toys and vibrators are normal and vanilla, all things considered. The only reason they haven't been normalized is because of patriarchal standards as to what sex is and is supposed to be.
The second thing to consider is physical limitations of positions and potential discomfort. I've seen several fanfic writers describe situations and positions that Viktor simply would never be able to do (e.g. lifting his partner onto a table or desk).
Viktor doesn't have a lot of strength. That's not to say he can't be rough or that all smut has to be vanilla. But realistically, it's absurd to think that he can lift someone else or manhandle them with any force, or thrust at the speed of light (💀). He also doesn't have any balance whatsoever post Act I. During Act I, he's able to hobble somewhat without his cane, as long as he has something to hold onto, as seen in episode three. But in Acts II and III, his balance issues combined with scoliosis would make any positions where he has to stand much more difficult.
Therefore, if you're wanting to write a scene somewhere outside of a bedroom (e.g. the lab, his office, etc.), he'd need something to balance himself. Seated sex is a great concept to play with -- very disability friendly and offers many options for all sorts of scenes. Desk/table sex is also realistic, as long as your character lifts themself onto the desk or table, and he's able to lean on it.
Scenes that take place in the bedroom also have their own limitations. He has zero use of his right leg, which means he'd need more time to get in and out of different positions. Missionary would take a toll on his back, I'd imagine, from being hunched over -- not that he couldn't do it at all, but that was more of a sidenote. Having your character straddle him, while his back was supported, is probably the most comfortable position I can imagine. Or spooning. Or maybe doggy, though I think his back and hips might get tired. But I'm just spit balling at this point. Utilizing objects from the setting is important -- pillows, having your character bent over the back of a couch, etc. This is where creativity comes in -- it's just important to keep in mind where his limitations are located on his body: his back and his leg/hip.
There are also adaptive devices for sex and disabilities.
One final thing I want to say is: don't overcorrect. This is common. It's one thing to keep a character's disability in mind, but it's another to make a disability the entire character. Just because Viktor is disabled doesn't mean he can't have the filthiest, most disgusting, raw, life changing, I-should-visit-a-confessional type of sex. However you headcanon him to be in bed is exactly how he can be. If you see him as a cruel Dom, he absolutely can slap the shit out of whoever has the pleasure of being beneath him, while he makes them beg for his mercy -- with his back and leg supported. If you see him as a bratty sub, he can be that, too -- while he lies there with a back pillow to relieve pressure off his spine. If he's the plainest, blander-than-vanilla type of lover, that's exactly what he is -- while he takes a few extra minutes to move from one position to the next. If he's any combination of those things, more power to you.
The point of writing a scene, is the point you're trying to make. Meaning: a lot of writers worry about conveying ideas and settings perfectly and with detail, while losing sight of the main point of their story. Rarely will you ever have to add paragraphs to a piece of writing in order to convey something, especially if it's not the main point. Often, it only takes one or two sentences. Keep the main point of the scene in mind. If you're writing a fic where Viktor and your character are secretly getting it on in the lab, then the point and the idea of that scene is the forbidden sex they are having. Not necessarily his limitations. You can easily acknowledge Viktor's disability by saying something like: 'Viktor sat on a chair at the far end of the lab, away from the door's line of sight. He leaned his back against the seat, allowing his spine to settle, before he coaxed his lover onto his lap. His lover straddled his legs, reaching to kiss his neck, while his hand trailed up their thighs...' You've successfully conveyed the limitations he has in two sentences, while maintaining the focus of your scene, and without reducing Viktor to a caricature of his disability. Less is more throughout your fic.
As a side note, which is completely my headcanon -- and something I've vaguely alluded to in my Viktor x Anya fics -- is that Viktor also has erectile dysfunction as a result of the PPS. Polio is a neurological virus, meaning is attacks the nerve cells, the main cause of the atrophy in PPS. It isn't common, but it's not uncommon for males with PPS to struggle with ED. As such, in my own personal stories, I have mentioned that Viktor takes medication to help with it. Sildenafil (the generic for Viagra) is a medication that specifically targets nerves.
That's my own person interpretation, though, and has no bearing on what we seen in Arcane lol.
To close this off for now, I want to reassure you that your efforts count and they matter. No one will write any depiction of disability 'perfectly'. Disability is unique to every person, and one person's spinal disability will look different to another's. Even people with the exact same diagnosis and prognosis will differ in how they experience it. You're not a dumbass. You're very intelligent to recognize the need for external resources. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the work you write, and keep asking questions.
If and when you decide to write your Viktor smut piece, I would love to read it. And likewise, if you'd like to read what I write I'd be happy to send it to you! If you're comfortable coming off anon, you can message me privately and we can talk more!
#viktor#viktor arcane#arcane#netflix arcane#viktor smut#viktor x reader#arcane viktor x reader#arcane viktor x you#viktor x you#arcane smut#disability#disability advocacy#disability awareness#viktor the machine herald#viktor fanfic#viktor fic
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Hu Tao x Doctor!Reader
CW: Swearing, Male!Reader. I wonder who will catch all 4 references? Tips: One book, one comic book, one animation, one real life case. If someone does, they'll get a gold star from me! :D
I'M SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF-
What a pairing. The bright and sunny funeral director, Hu Tao, and the cynical but still good doctor Y/N.
One benefits from ended lives, the other from saving them… This poses a fair amount of questions, doesn't it?
No wonder, then, that you're not as popular as doctor Baizhu, especially with kids. Though honesty is usually considered a virtue, well… Let's say that it's not the case here.
Though some call you a quack, Baizhu and Changsheng see the truth. You have good intentions, you have the necessary skill and knowledge, but all the years of not-so-casual field work desensitized you quite a bit.
Y/N: Let me tie this, and we can begin.
Milelith soldier: Gods it hurts… Just… Just hurry, doctor. Please… I don't know if I can take it…
Y/N: Don't worry, my friend. You will manage, worst case you pass out. A leg is still better than your life, right?
Milelith soldier: I suppose…
Y/N: I learned from the best. My professor in Fontaine could make an amputation in just about 153 seconds, can you believe that? Truly impressive.
Milelith soldier: Oh… I see… How so?
Y/N: Impressive in the sense that it allowed the only case of 300% mortality rate to occur.
Milelith soldier: W-what does that mean?
Y/N: It's a funny story, let me tell you! A bystander died of a heart attack while witnessing the procedure, the patient later died of gangrene, and the saw cut off the fingers of the doctor's assistant, who later died of gangrene as well. That's skill, isn't it? Three for the price of one!
Milelith soldier: ...
Y/N: Well, not that funny. But don't fret, he saved more lives than he ended. Anyway, we'll take our time. Can't have any of you dying, can I?
Soldiers: *nervous laugh*
Y/N: Here, bite down on this. And you two - hold him, just in case.
Due to your skill in general medicine and surgery, especially the emergency variety, Ningguang deemed you to be a most valuable asset to Liyue. Putting up with your unsettling remarks and dark jokes is nothing when compared to all the lives you save regularly, especially among the Milelith and miners.
Just… Why do you seem to actively try to undermine your fairly good public image? It's Hu Tao's influence, no doubt about that.
Hu Tao: Buy a coffin, and the second will cost you nothing!
Y/N: But wait! Before you pass, take those pills to help with gas!
The two of you are probably the most well-known couple in Liyue. Some find your complementary quirkiness adorable, while others keep a safe distance. Your demeanor may be unusual, to say the least, but the statistics speak for themselves - the essentially non-existent mortality rate of your procedures earns you respect amongst those you've helped.
Some think of your sense of humor as harmful, but you'll hear the opposite if you ask your patients. A joke, even if it's gallows humor, can help immensely.
Hu Tao likes your sense of humor, though she can't help but worry a little. The stories are told in a funny way, but the topics are rarely such.
Y/N: I have your test results, sir.
Old man: Please make haste, doctor. I don't have all day.
Y/N: Aw shucks, who told you?
She understands how exhausting your profession is, how mentally challenging it may be. There are people you can't save, no matter how hard you try. There are those that can be, but they disobey your orders. If you make mistakes, you're always the one to blame. They rarely recognise your effort. More - some treat you as a fraud, a killer in disguise.
Y/N: Have you heard of the surgeon's regularity, Hu?
Hu Tao: Aiya, do tell!
Y/N: If the patient dies, it's your fault. If they live, it's a miracle.
Hu Tao loves listening to the many stories you've gathered over the years!
The skill you hold in the field of medicine earned you the respect of many throughout the nations - commoners, aristocrats, generals, and even the Raiden Shogun herself. Due to your priceless service in the Shogunate's army, your Hydro Vision was never taken away, and you, even as an outlander, got the full freedom of movement and social rights in Inazuma.
With your actions, you showed the Inazumans that a doctor isn't a coward. You attended the battles sometimes, standing alongside the other soldiers. They say it's bravery, but… Truly, the battlefield is the biggest test compound there is!
Kujou Sara: Doctor! Are you sure this will work?
Y/N, firing up a Hydro beam: Hahaha, I have no idea!
You finished med school in Fontaine, your homeland. You earned your license and started your career there, but you weren't very popular amongst the public and the officials. The reason? Well…
Y/N: Ladies and gentlemen, have you wondered how you can serve science? Serve medicine? Serve mankind? Well, do I have an offer for you! In fact, we doctors are not sure how some things inside us humans work, and what we use can, at times, look like black magic, but rest assured - it's just ignorance. How can you assist us in making progress then, you ask? Sign this waver today! With a flick of your wrist you can donate your body to science and be the stepping stone for ground breaking progress! We'll crack you open after you kick the bucket, see what makes you tick, stitch you back up nice and tidy and give you back. Your family will get a compensation of 100 000 Mora. More - sign it now, ladies and gentlemen, and get a free wine voucher! Tell me, isn't that the offer of a lifetime?
Anyway, that's how you lost your medical license. You were 'unprofessional', they said.
After that you went to Inazuma, spending a year there before moving on to the land of wisdom. The researchers of Sumeru quickly recognised your experience, and looked into granting you an official license in an alternative procedure. Amurta professors were impressed by your ability to do your job with even the most bare-bones of tools, in harsh conditions, and succeed at treatment at the same time.
Y/N, cooking up a rudimentary antidote: Don't stress, Y/N. It's just a tiny scorpion sting. Just a little life-and-death scenario. No reason to panic.
Eremite, choking: Doc… tor, that's n-not my name…
Y/N: Yeah, I know.
While the paperwork was in progress, you visited Natlan for some time. It was the true unofficial test of your skills. Tropical diseases, the immense heat, the endless flood of combat wounds… But you just rolled up your sleeves and got to work, just like in Inazuma.
Y/N: ... and I tell her: sorry, I can't treat you - I'm a family doctor, and you're an orphan!
Both: *laughter*
Y/N: Whew… Anyway, that's why they kicked me out of the Teyvatian Association for Children's Medicine.
Gladiator: Some folk can't take a joke huh… Um, doctor? Should I be awake for this?
Y/N: Haha, well… No. But since you already are, can you help me open up your chest cavity? I can't… seem… to…
Gladiator: *scream*
Y/N: Oh, don't be such a Treasure Hoarder. Ribs grow back!
Gladiator: I don't think so… You sure, doctor?
Y/N: Yeah, if trimmed. You don't need it to survive. But that'll be another 75k.
Gladiator: Eh, do it doc. My insurance will cover it.
Y/N: I hope so! Else… *cracks knuckles*
The Akademiya offered you the place of the leader of an exchange project with The Fatui of Snezhnaya, due to your extensive experience in the field. You agreed, of course. In the land of Cryo you learned about gunshot wounds, frostbite and radiation poisoning (stemming from equipement factories), adding their treatment to your already long list of capabilities. The competition was possibly the biggest in Teyvat, since Fatui doctors and medics are the best money can buy.
Electrohammer Vanguard: Job twoju mat’... Fuck… It hurts like a bitch…
Y/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. A little quieter, please? A mistake now would be fatal.
Electrohammer Vanguard: S-sorry… ugh… That’s my first gunshot, d-doctor…
Y/N: Oh, don’t worry. Mine as well :)
Electrohammer Vanguard: …
Y/N: Now, can I get my hydrogen peroxide back? I hope you left some for the wound…
Mondstadt was pretty dull and boring. There weren’t nearly as many traumatic injuries as in the other nations, and the diseases weren’t even half as lethal as malaria, cholera and typhus you faced in Sumeru and Natlan. That moment of peace allowed you to reflect on your life and experiences, as well as finally enjoy your hard earned fortune.
Y/N: Take two of those throughout the week. If the symptoms don’t let up, come back and I’ll give you stronger ones.
Kaeya: Thank you, doctor. May I ask something?
Y/N: Sure.
Kaeya: How did you become a doctor in the first place? Was it the salary, or perhaps a moral reason?
Y/N: Hm. Duty, I think. I do what needs to be done. I didn’t have much time to reflect on it before. There’s always something to do. But even if I complete what is necessary, I still think back to what I did. Long days of waiting usually follow. It will come out if the treatment works, or if the surgery was a success. And just then, when the tension and joy leave my body - just then I realize what are the odds. 1: 400 000. It’s laughable. But for everyone their life is everything they have, so perhaps trying makes sense.
And so you ended up in Liyue, the last nation on your list. It wouldn’t be your final destination if not for her. In Hu Tao you found a soulmate, someone who shared your sense of humor, someone who understood you.
Painfully aware of how limited your time among the living is, you and her make the most out of it.
Thanks for reading!
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x male reader#genshin impact x male reader#fluff#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#genshin impact hu tao#hu tao#hu tao x reader#hu tao x male reader#hu tao x y/n#hu tao x you#hu tao fluff
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Dofus: The Production - reviewing the Xa and Tot interview
pictured: 7yo Joris, 10yo Joris, 60yo Joris, and 584-585yo Joris.
Funnily enough, this interview will touch onto something already mentioned in the artbook I already reviewed.
The origins of Joris as a character.
Sadly, it is machine translated, but I think we'll understand it well enough.
Here we learn that Joris was inspired by Vivi from Final Fantasy. I am sad to report I had never played Final Fantasy, and all my knowledge of him comes from hearsay at best, but Id do find there to be some very funny and twisted parallels between Vivi and Joris, beyond their troubles with lifespans (Vivi's being extremely short, Joris's the opposite...)
Like lol. Lmao even. (laughs fondly at the memory of having drawn fanart of Kerubim and Joris cannibalising one another as symbolism for Kerubim's selfish exploitation of Joris for his own emotional needs and regrets, — and Joris growing to derive pleasure from being exploited by Kerubim, and being a willing participant in the mixture of parentification and infantilization he experiences after the 600 years of living with his dad.)
Anyway,
Joris's progression as a character being "joke character -> character Xa created to be cool and awesome in a moment of inspiration, despite Tot's brief -> he bewitches them both fully" is so funny to me.
I always found it funny that Tot doesn't really see the forest (dofus aux tresors de kerubim) for the trees (child neglect and the psychological horror of Joris Jurgen's entire existence).
Not even going to comment on not knowing what the hell "epic-burlesque" is supposed to mean.
Now we move onto my favourite part of this interview: Tot's thoughts on Joris as a character.
I'm glad he said that they've worked on his life story through multiple centuries. Gives me hope that Tot has given thought to Joris's experiences during Leorictus Sheran-Sharms silly, perhaps even whacky reign.
I want to note the word choice here, — Joris isn't mysterious, but jaded. All of his caginess and "mystique" is attributable in equal part to his distrust of others, cynicism, and exhaustion with the horrible things he has seen throughout his life.
Which would very likely include being cagy even about his class, considering the whole "huppermage gencocide" thing that happened after Leorictus Sheran-Sharm.
The thing about Joris is that it is hard to appraise him from our own point of view. I had always liked how this franchise treats immortal characters, — they are beings with feelings, who make mistakes, who have issues.
But it does not make them any less incomprehensible.
In a way, he is so compelling to me, because I find his existence terrifying — Joris is someone who started out with all these ideas of kindness and justice, but can someone who is 600 years old really uphold them?
Judging from Waven, we know the answer to this question.
I think that with Joris's character, as well as Kerubim and Atcham, one of the major themes is stagnation.
While at times their immortality, and the freedom it provides, is referred to in a bit of an "optimistic nihilism" way,
Especially with the themes and motifs referenced in Aux Tresors de Kerubim, (especially with the ending directly referencing Diane Ardant's monologue,)
It's such a painful mixture of stagnation and endless freedom. There's a horror of never being able to escape, — not from having to experience the horrors of history, not from your own childhood house.
And then there's the horror of moving on from everyone you ever loved. While Kerubim and Joris share this one, I associate it more with Kerubim simply because he is so obsessed with the stories of his youth. It feels as if what was two hundred years ago is just yesterday, to him...
While with Atcham it's just speculation and my own headcanons, the sort of immortality, stagnation related horror I associate with him is dependency. He is not the same, strong person he used to be when he was alone. If he had to go back to Brakmar after all this time, he wouldn't be able to adjust. It's like all this time has declawed him.
Joris never really knew a life outside the all-consuming relationship he has with Kerubim and Atcham, but for Atcham it's different. And with every unchanging year that passes, he settles more and more into this peaceful existence, — and if he were torn away from it, just like Joris and Kerubim, he would not be able to function.
I think that the theoretical endpoint of where Kerubim, Joris, and Atcham could end up is whatever is going between Qilby and Shinonome.
Being one another's only meaning, in a world devoid of meaning, for better or for worse. Probably for worse.
#ro liveblogs dofus#dofus#wakfu#krosmoz#kerubim crepin#joris jurgen#atcham crepin#moviehistory#i prommy next or the after-next post will be about some of the stuff from film's production. heart <3.
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“Don't you ever get tired, boss?” You ask, peering over Unknown's shoulder at his screen.
He turns around to scowl at you. Yes, of course he gets fucking tired. That's by no means something he's proud of, and it's by no means something he wants to hear you prattling on about. Unknown has discovered that he likes having you around— it's nice to have someone to talk to, and even better that you're usually able to entertain him, at least to some degree— but he could do without the constant questions. You always want to know what he's working on (which is classified), what you can do to help (nothing whatsoever, unless you're sitting on a bunch of useful skills that have somehow managed to escape Unknown’s notice thus far), and, worst of all, how he's feeling (which is none of your goddamn business, actually). Unknown has no interest in anything even remotely resembling a conversation about emotions with you, let alone one about his physical state.
“Hm,” he says eventually, not caring how you interpret the sound. It's none of his business how you interpret things, at least as long as you're keeping those interpretations to yourself and staying out of trouble.
“Then you should sleep,” you suggest, “I'm sure that it'll help you work better.”
“Oh, is that so?” Unknown hums, still not looking up from his screen— truth be told, he's barely listening to you. He couldn't care less what you think about his methods, though that certainly doesn't stop you from peppering him with moral qualms and concerns about his health under these working conditions— as if Unknown has any control over that, anyway. Why do you want to make him feel so powerless? Can't you just stay securely under his thumb and let him go about his business?
“Yeah,” you reply, “It is. If you're tired, you should sleep. That’s kind of, like, basic knowledge 101, you know?”
“I can't sleep, prince(ss),” Unknown grits out. He’s annoyed that this is even a discussion.
“Oh, you mean you can’t fall asleep?” You ask, probably trying to be helpful. Normally, Unknown wouldn't give a shit about anybody's intentions but his own or his Savior's... however, lately, he's begun to pick up on the fact that people can mean very well while somehow managing to remain insufferably annoying. He wouldn't have thought that this combination was possible until he met you— you should be proud of yourself, Unknown supposes, though not too proud— that would be a bit much. “Then that might be because of all the monitors. Maybe you’d be able to rest better if you turned a couple of them off.”
“No,” he growls before you can give him another useless suggestion. Just because Unknown understands your motivations doesn't mean he's going to entertain any more nonsense from you. After all, he's your boss, not your friend— and honestly, boss isn't the term he originally would have selected, but it would be too much of a hassle to change anything now that you seem married to the idea. “I can't sleep unless that redhead sleeps, get it? He’ll attack and undo all my progress while I’m wasting time in dreamland.” And if that redhead is sleeping, then Unknown isn't going to sleep, either, because it'll give him an opportunity to get a leg up. If he rests only when his exhaustible body forces him to do so, then eventually, he’ll arrive at his revenge.
“Well, if you're not sleeping, I'm not sleeping,” you declare, “And if you think I'm annoying now, you're just gonna love me when I'm sleep deprived.”
Unknown rolls his eyes at your sheer audacity. “Aw, do you think you're being clever?” He coos. “You can't control me that easily, assistant.” Lately, Unknown has gotten into the habit of calling you by your title as if it were a pet name of some kind. He likes the reaction that it gets from you, though he doesn’t understand it— if you’re so proud to be his assistant, then why do you constantly question him? Can’t you just leave well enough alone?
“I’m just showing you how ridiculous and stubborn you’re being, boss. What are you gonna do about it?” You ask.
You’re challenging him, trusting that he’ll humor you as you test him in a vain attempt to prove a really useless point. Unknown isn’t sure why you couldn’t have applied this determination to chatting with the RFA, or at least going into that apartment. Maybe you would have been happier there, with people who would accept and embrace your affection and concern. But there’s no point in thinking about that now— you’re stuck with Unknown, and for all intents and purposes, he is equally stuck with you.
Unknown just rolls his eyes at you again. Honestly, maybe he is starting to get tired, if you've managed to get under his skin so easily— but it doesn't matter whether he's tired or not. Unknown will get his work done regardless of his physical condition, and you should get that through your head as soon as possible. “You're gonna go lay down on the couch and shut your mouth,” he intones, “Or else I'll send you to your room, and you can stay there alone. How does that sound, cutie?”
Even if you insist on staying awake to prove some useless point to him, eventually, you’ll drift off if you’re laying there not doing anything. That way, Unknown won’t have to worry about you while he’s working— of course, he isn’t at all concerned with your well being, he reminds himself. He just doesn’t want to have to waste time thinking about what kind of trouble you might be causing behind the scenes.
“Wow, so cruel,” you pretend to lament with a pouting expression as you throw yourself onto the couch. You’re just joking, of course— you don’t actually think that about him. If you did, you wouldn't be able to say it so flippantly. You’re convinced that he’s a good person somewhere deep down, but Unknown might very well be cruel— no, scratch that. He knows for a fact that he's a bad guy to his core, a monster in every sense of the word. Unknown is by no means a nice person, but he knows how to get what he wants. That’s got to count for something, right? “But just promise me you’ll rest eventually, okay?” Your concern is evident in your voice, even if you try to hide it behind that playful tone.
“Mhm. Maybe I’ll be able to rest when my assistant isn’t causing me so many problems,” he hums. It’s best to just humor you, to keep you from wasting time worrying when you could be helping Unknown with his revenge. Besides, he’s not even really lying— he’ll have to sleep eventually. No matter how many times he pushes his body to its limits, it never seems to get any stronger or better at staying awake when he needs it to. “But if you want to stay with me, then you should start being quiet now.”
You don't respond, and for his part, Unknown counts it as a win.
#I've been thinking a lot lately about Unknown's relationship with rest#And how profoundly difficult it would be to convince him to take care of himself at all#mystic messenger#mystic messenger drabble#choi saeran#saeran choi#unknown mystic messenger
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౨ৎ what their bedrooms would look like...
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FEAT... thoma, tighnari, venti, diluc, itto (+shinobu)
A/N... this is modern au!
✧ thoma.
i feel like thoma would actually have a really messy room, despite being the best cleaner known to man. with him being so busy polishing the floors of the kamisato mansion until they practically shine - not to mention the countless chores and errands he runs - it's almost impossible for him to catch his breath, leaving him absolutely exhausted by the time he throws himself onto his bed. it's almost ironic how he has cleaning supplies neatly lined up on his dressing cabinet collecting dust.
furthermore, a problem arises. thoma isn't the type to be able to say "no", therefore i think he'd probably end up with people coming over to his apartment. his more-than-messy bedroom, along with almost every other area of the apartment, means he and his visitor(s) are confined to the kitchen and living room, which - unfortunately - are not separated.
however, it could also be the complete opposite. with thoma having speedily completed all of the "assignments" set for him that day, he may find himself roaming the streets with nothing to do. after running around the city day after day, nothing seems new to him anymore, causing him to resort to cleaning his apartment searching for some form of entertainment.
✧ tighnari.
now, obviously, tighnari would have a lot of plants throughout his house, whether they're sat in pots upon the windowsill, or hanging precariously from the ceiling by a few strings. however, despite the countless amounts of greenery, his small home is perfectly clean; not a fallen leaf in sight. a stray petal spotted by him has no chance of survival, and would immediately be thrown into the composter along with any other scraps he finds.
he would also have a large garden surrounding his cottage-like house, with an abundance of greenery including trees, countless breeds of flowers, and even his own little veggie patch that he uses to grow not only vegetables, but herbs too.
towards the back would be a greenhouse, full to the brim of exotic and rare plant breeds which he often buys abroad. he keeps them there to study them, refusing to use the internet for information and relying purely on his own knowledge and the countless books he has in his basement-library. the amount of books he owns is so great, he would have to stack them besides the "library" door, leaving his home looking quite messy, but he doesn't seem to mind; he's a strong believer in "organised mess".
✧ venti.
i don't know if this is slightly random or strange, but in my mind, i think venti would make an excellent weather broadcaster; he has a strong passion with the wind, as well as a somewhat special connection, and so i think it's actually quite fitting.
in his room would be covered in charts, showing different areas of the world and little diagrams along with them of weather tendencies, levels of rainfail, and more; it wouldn't be much of a surprise to see multiple globes in his home either. despite not actually providing the information, venti wooul still enjoy studying the topics he speaks about, explaining the stacks of factual documents on his desk, facing the window of course so he can gaze out of the window and observe the beauty of mother nature's sky whenever he pleases.
in the far corner of his room, the spot in which the sun shines in the late afternoon, is a stool, his lyre sitting atop it. though it is an uncommon instrument to play, venti is more than just passionate about it's beautiful melodies, the way the strings vibrate to the perfect pitch every time, blessing the ears of those who walked by his window.
✧ diluc.
even in the real world, diluc still has a passion for the art of brewery, this hobby being so apparent that he would have his own "bar" in the basement of his home. he would have loved to take his love for brewery even further and turn it into his job, but in order to help provide for his family, including his partner, 2 children, and 3 cats, he needed a better paying job than a barista, and so ended up with an office job. as boring as it may be, he truly believes it's worth it.
his family's home would be of an average size, small enough to be homely, large enough to be comfortable. the kids would have their own rooms, though they wouldn't be massive. he and his partner would share a bedroom, as well as a bed, which would always be kept tidy by his obsessive nature for cleanliness and organisation, though a little clutter won't bother him.
i think it would be quite a basic home, what you'd expect for a modern day family, though there would be little relics spotted around the house, usually framed or kept in protective glass cases, that he'd taken an interest in over the years.
✧✧ itto. (+shinobu)
itto would 100% be a drummer. don't even ask me why, he just is. he would have quite a worn drumkit in the corner of his bedroom, which somehow withstands his passionate beatings for hours on end (put your dirty mind away); proving him to be not only a professional drummer, but also a professional upstairs neighbour, or just neighbour in general. practically all the apartment building can feel the vibrations of his rhythmic drumming, none of the inhabitants necessarily enjoying his musical outbursts.
his love for beetles still carries through to the real world, as well as his passion for the strength of geo. these likes of his are represented throughout his apartment, with beetles molded from stone scattered as decorations; the sizes, colours, and shapes ranging massively. he often volunteers at the local scouts club during the summer to take the children into the forest and (attempt to) catch bugs together.
shinobu, arguably his closest friend, shares the apartment with him, as well as the interest in music. her room is on the other side of the apartment, containing a wall dedicated to guitars (electric and acoustic) and basses. it isn't rare for the two of them to have recording sessions together; they are in a band together, after all.
thanks for reading ♡ want to read more?
my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!
© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own
#genshin#genshin headcanons#headcanons#thoma#thoma headcanons#tighnari#tighnari headcanons#venti#venti headcanons#diluc#diluc headcanons#itto#itto headcanons#shinobu#kuki shinobu#shinobu headcanons#kuki shinobu headcanons#.typingptera
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This is part 24 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!
(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)
Masterlist
We're late. Shit. Only by seven minutes, but there's a lot of gossip in the Backstage Room during seven minutes. Damn!
Luckily, we still have plenty of time for our skincare routines. Grim gets brushed a little faster than usual, but we're good. "Breakfast can be eaten on the way to class," I mutter to myself as I speedwalk down the hall.
"Y'ain't gawt classes t'day! Jeez, yeh jus'a lil' too awn edge 'bout yeh grades, ain't'cha? Cawlm yerself, 's awll awrigh'," says Epel, voice drawling along as it does to add a w into some words that wouldn't normally contain them this far north. I laugh along with him. We were really in such a hurry, and for what? Club doesn't start for a long while today.
In walks Korrak. Mandible is on his shoulder, as usual, and they look... as fatigued as always. Do they know? I can't tell. Maybe their evident exhaustion is from normal causes, whatever those are.
Well, I'm not going to risk it. Those two have never looked fully rested as long as I've known them, and using my signature spell last night showed me that's not a recent development. Even on the day of the entrance ceremony, they looked like there had been about two hours of deep, undisturbed, uninterrupted sleep between the two of them.
...Actually, they look way better now than they did then. I suppose Rook and Vil's care has really had an impact. Good. They deserve it.
Is the same true for me? Did I look like some kind of abomination when I walked in this world for the first time? Thinking back to day one, absolutely. Grim and I actually got taken into the Backstage Room first, and our housewarden spent over an hour and a half on detangling my hair alone- after he spent another thirty minutes on cutting it without breaking the scissors. Maybe I overestimated the difference between me and the boy with the dark blue opossum.
Ok, definitely. I definitely overestimated the difference between Korrak and I. Then again, we're from entirely different worlds, so is that a crime? I hope not.
Oh, well. Korrak isn't looking at me or Grim like anything's different, so we're probably fine. Probably. There's definitely an ethics factor, but I'm choosing to ignore that. For now.
Speaking of problems I'm aware of but choosing to pretend I'm not because the stress of that issue is pressing and I never learned to properly cope with anxiety in any way but ignoring it until I can't and it breaks me, I've heard of a spring and winter break when students go home. What do I do then?
Perhaps my impending doom shows on my face, but It doesn't matter if so because nobody appears to have noticed, and I don't see Rook. That doesn't mean he doesn't see me, though. Good ol' Rook.
He'll find me later. There's a good chance Grim and I will be taken to Vil's room to discuss that, and perhaps my signature spell. I need to get better at using that. There, that's something to do today.
I don't know when I sat down, nor do I know when Korrak and Epel started talking about combat, but it's oddly comforting to hear someone talking about fighting whilst drawing many of their 'a's into 'aw's. All becomes awl, on becomes awn, and so forth.
Did I have these moments before? Of peace, of contentment, of calm? Of simply sitting on a couch and listening to friends speak of violence in familiar voices and tones? No, I didn't, not even that last part. It's nice to know things can improve with as little as... well, not little. Still, it's nice to know things can improve.
I need to start with learning how to trigger Memory Lane. I think it was accidental last night, but I can't recall enough about before to even guess how I set it off then. Perhaps I have to be asleep? Does Grim has to be asleep? How close do I have to be to the person whose memories I'd like to rummage through, physically? Does physical space even matter? How well do I have to know them? Do I have to know them? Can I swap between targets without leaving the spell's area, or do I have to cast it twice for that to happen? Where does my physical body go? Can I take other people there?
I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first: how to start using Memory Lane. No, wait, first is breakfast. I'm almost done with that, so I'll head into the woods to train. I'll probably have to register that with Vil and maybe the headmage, but that can wait. I'd like to learn more about this spell before I tell.
"You look like you've got a plan," murrs Grim. "What're we doing today?"
"We're figuring out that spell," I maow back. Grim grins, sharp little teeth slightly dirty with minuscule chunks of salmon and toast.
"Y'all ain't all that subtle when yer up ter somethin'," teases Epel with a roll of his eyes before he gets up to stretch. "Best I git goin'," he starts again, smirking. "Cain't masta spelldrive without practice, after awll."
With that, Epel is gone, and Mandible turns to chitter at Korrak about something- I don't know what; I don't speak opossum- who then nods, scarfs down the rest of his food, and makes a break for it. He is stopped by Rook, who probably wasn't there a moment ago if my eyes are telling the truth.
"No running in the lounge," he chides gently. "Now, then, follow me!" I assume that has to do with club activities and think nothing of it. We ought to be going, too- daylight only lasts so long.
The forest is quite pretty again, leaves crunching beneath my feet as I step through the rug of orange, red, yellow, and brown that only parts for trees, their roots, and large rocks. The air here is crisp and fresh, good for clearing your head. I'll probably need that to pull this off, but I'm not sure. Can't hurt, at least.
I inhale, holding the air in my lungs and picturing... someone. The breath escapes me. Who should I go for? Myself, perhaps? Grim? Korrak again? Myself, I'll try myself first. Worth a shot, at the very least.
I try again, holding my breath in my lungs with an image of me, as reflected in the Backstage Room's wall-length mirror. My eyes close. My breath exits me in a quiet whisper: "Memory Lane."
I open my eyes to a Grim-grey path beneath my feet and a slightly blueish sky. Not blue-grey, but blue-brown, like the sky was shifting from a brunette brown to an overhead midnight expanse and I walked in on it midway through. The "stars" are small, black dots and streaks that have scattered themselves across the expanse, more numerous than in Korrak's and somewhat grouped into rows that make me think of a river spreading itself over the landscape it cuts through, as if I walked in on them, too.
The trees are willows, not the weeping kind- at least, not until I look close enough to see their branches are held up by vines with stems that match the path and leaves that match the flames in Grim's ears. The trees themselves are the dark, colorless color of my familiar's trident tail, and their leaves vary in color like confetti- some are the signature Pomefiore purple, some are the same blue as the leaves on the vines, some are a different shade of violet I've seen in Vil's eyes, and some are the green of ferns, moss, and Rook's irises. These willows do weep, but the vines prevent that. Interesting.
I wonder what that says about me.
In front of the comforted willows are more memory screens, though mine appear less like floating screens and more like... what's the word? Like those big, fancy graves with something built from smooth marble atop them, honoring the dead by creating something beautiful in their name. Crypt? No, those are underground. Tomb? Maybe.
Mausoleum, that's it. Though, notably, only the memory portal things a little ways away have them- these are nestled in the willows themselves, once low-hanging branches held away from the screen by the vines and slightly obscuring my view of the past anyway. The farther and further I look, the more little white roofs I see.
"Funny," starts Grim, "I don't remember all this. I mean, the sky's bluer than before, the leaves on the trees are more colors, and the fancy buildings are new, too." He dips his head down, eyes facing the ground near my feet. "Then again, it's been years, and my memory isn't all that great. I don't remember my family, just being cold, that striped ribbon, this place, and you." He curls into himself, soft stomach hidden from my sight, and I cannot help but forget for a mere moment that I am holding a catlike unknown as opposed to a newborn human in my arms. The thought soon evaporates like a drop of water on the surface of the sun, though my familiar's pose remains fetal.
"That's okay, Grim," I reassure, hugging him closer to my chest. "We have each other." I do not tell him the whispers of my childhood are blurry and mysterious like fog over the sea. I do not tell him he is all I clearly recall. I do not tell him I've forgotten the face of my reflection so much I thought I was face blind until I realized I only knew what I looked like when I saw myself. He does not need to know.
Nobody does. Not Mandible, not Korrak, not Epel or Rook or Vil or anyone but me. Those teachers are irrelevant now; this new world has new rules that they can't teach me. Those kids were never my friends; they just let me sit with them and tried to talk to me. Those parents aren't my parents anymore; I have new ones.
Methinks I need a distraction. My remedy is to walk a few meters to the nearest one, adjusting Grim in my arms as I do so, and touching the shiny white with my newly free hand. My familiar uncurls and turns his head to watch my fingertips glide accross the pristine, exact surface. Not one bump, dent, or crack.
The memory itself is of searching the woods for a stick to turn into a toy for Grim- it's clear and crisp despite the fact that I haven't touched it and don't intend to. Behind me, the next memory is of learning I had magic. It's just as vivid as the one before it.
Further down the path, though, memory mausoleums are fewer and farther between. It's nowhere near as packed along the sides as Korrak's- a testament to my poor memory, I suppose- or, perhaps it testifies for his being above average. Maybe even both.
I guess that's just my life- forgotten until recently.
Actually, if I look, there are a few. These ones are blurry, concerningly so, and some part of me says they need to be wiped down like soapy windows in a car wash, as though that would somehow improve the quality.
The farther back I go into the faded scraps of my own forgotten past, the fewer and farther between the memories get, and the ones we do find are notably worse than the last, though not by much. It adds up, though. After a while, they look less like life viewed through a dirty lens and more like splotches of color that were filmed through fog.
Then, I see it. This marblelike structure is huge; I'd have to stand on my own shoulders to see the top. What event could this possibly be?
I look. It's crisp like the most recent ones, with clear differences between even a grey, trident-tailed cat and an asphalt road.
Oh.
Oh.
It's... Grim's death.
...
Yeah, that... that lines up. When did I get on the ground? Oh, I've fallen. Grim is- alive. He's alive, and I'm not losing him. Not again.
It'd be comforting if I could tell myself that wasn't real, but it is. That happened, and it won't again. Not on my watch. I won't let it, no matter what.
"H-hey," starts my frantic familiar. "Yuu... um, look! Over there! I think there might be something under the trees! Let's go and look, okay?"
That's right. That's right. More to see. More to remember. Farther and further back into my faded past.
I stand and look. He's right; the branches are unusually thick here. And, right at the bottom, a rectangle cuts off, like a memory has been hidden by the trees and was revealed by the vines pulling them up.
Gently, slowly, I brush some branches aside. Harshly, suddenly, I am standing in a very nostalgic yard.
Grass. Clover. A mossy wooden fence that my startled mind remembers was willowwood, once upon a time. Grim was right. This is a memory. Speaking of Grim, there he is. In my arms. My eight-year-old, grey-clad arms. I recognize that hoodie- the grey of Grim's fur. It was my favorite as a kid.
Another child is walking down the sidewalk. Small me sees him- blond hair, forgotten eyes- and does not call. He sees small me right back, through the many large holes in the picket fence, and then he stops, his feet in dark cyan shoes I don't remember the style of. His mouth opens.
"Hey! Yuu!" I freeze. It feels almost as though he's calling out to me- not small me, but current me. That shouldn't be possible, and then small me shouts back.
"What?" My old, echoing voice calls back. The boy- Christopher- smiles like he's just been given a pack of gummy bears.
That's right. Christopher. His name was Christopher, and his favorite food was gummy bears. He sat with me at lunch.
"Are you gonna come over to my house this weekend?"
Small me lights up. "Sure!"
"Okay," Christopher shouts back, "see you tomorrow!"
"Bye!" Small me turns back to Grim. I get a good look at him then, and he is visibly younger than the Grim of today. His trident tail, like the rest of him, is smaller, and the blue flames in his ears look more like embers than they do fire, as though they once roared and have been slowly softened by the neverending sands of time.
"Mreew," sqeals the exited bundle of fur.
Small me giggles, ecstatic and still learning cat. When did I master that language?
The door on the house behind me opens, faded paint flaking off in thin shards of what was once green. Young me turns to the obnoxious squeaking, and thoughts drop into my mind like rain into a bucket: That door was greener. Why is it so white now?
The paintless parts of the door are pale brown.
The memory cuts to the following day. Christopher's mother is cutting my hair, and, from where today's me is standing, it oddly resembles Vil doing the same. She's fussing over how it should t be this matted, and how this isn't healthy, and how she's going to call CPS. I can't even remember what that stands for. Did I ever know?
More thoughts flow through me: Their door is so quiet; mine is so loud. Their house is warm like the park is in summer. What color is this? It's like the walls of the doctor's office. Or snow.
I smile to myself. My elementary school was decently fancy when I was a kid, even though Night Raven has since blown it out of the water. Many of the kids who attended came from rich families, and my friends were no exception.
The memory ends, and I'm standing on the road again. It feels like something was cut out, like there was more to it that was lost to time. I guess I'll never know again. Thinking about that makes me feel a little faint.
We should head back. I can't tell the time right now, but we do have club.
I think I can just...
"Memory Lane."
There. Isn't that neat? With just the faintest of whispers and a little bit of magic, we're back in the woods- and my phone is buzzing in my pocket with messages. Specifically, texts from Ortho.
12:02
[This groupchat was created]
[Groupchat renamed to "Board Games Club]
8:34
(666-89-02740) Hi!
This is Ortho Shroud of Ignihyde
You are Yuu of Pomefiore, right?
And Azul Ashengrotto of Octanville
8:35
(534-82-42001) Yes, this is Azul.
Why are you texting us?
The lounge is opening.
(666-89-02740) Board Games club has been canceled for today
Idia is sick
And the club room hasn't been cleaned yet
Neither have the games
8:36
(534-82-42001) Okay, I'll be at the lounge if you need me.
(666-89-02740) Okay!
Yuu, respond when you see this
The first thing I do before I respond is add Ortho and Azul to my contacts. I don't know how Ortho got my number, but it probably has to do with the whole "Ignihyde is the tech dorm" thing. The second thing I do is look at the time, and the third is sigh with relief. We'd be late if it weren't for club being canceled.
10:07
(Yuu & Grim) We have seen this!
(Blue Candle) Got it
Thank you!
I smile. It feels like I'm connecting with this new world a little bit more at a time, and the thought is enough to distract from the still-drying tears on my cheeks. Grim is purring again, probably unintentionally.
And that connection with my old one is gone. Was it ever even there? My life was nothing special, except for Grim. I should know- interesting things stick in my mind. I lost a lot of then after the whole car-and-cat thing, but I remember some of Shakespeare's plays. They were interesting.
I only remember one of them, though- what was it called? The Ides Of March, I think that's it. All I really recall is the name and that some guy got stabbed.
I remember that play better than I remember my biological parents, and I barely remember the play. Did I even live with them? Did I ever know them? Maybe I was raised by a straight couple. Or a lesbian. Or two lesbians.
No matter. Right now, my "parents" are a pair of theater kids, and I'm happy with that. I like them. Vil personally dematted my hair when I first arrived.
...Hold on. I was raised by parents, not aunts or uncles or anything, I know that much. And I know they were alive and in the house. And I know parents are supposed to care for their children.
So, why was my hair a rat's nest when I first came to Night Raven? Why did Vil have to spend so long fixing it? Why am I hyperventilating?!
I hold my breath and pray to whatever will listen to please let me faint. That's what I always did back then... okay, maybe that just means this is a bad thing to do.
Maybe my poor memory is one of the ways I cope. I'll never know with what. That's the point, after all.
My phone breifly vibrates with another message, this one directly from Ortho to me with nobody else involved.
10:46
(Blue Candle) Hey
I can't find anything on you except school-related stuff
Like
Anything
(Yuu & Grim) Why were you looking for that?
(Blue Candle) The nurse asked me if I could find your medical history and stuff
You know
For safety reasons
Seems reasonable. Although, wouldn't it make more sense to contact Vil first? And then Rook? Or the headmage, even? Maybe Ortho knows her personally or something. Maybe she wanted to contact Idia, but he sent his brother in his place. Yeah, that makes sense.
10:47
(Yuu & Grim) Yeah idk lol
Good luck
(Blue Candle) ???
That does not help
(Yuu & Grim) 🤷
(Blue Candle) 😐
😑
😐
I don't send anything new, still processing my delight over the discovery of this world's emojis. By the time I look back, Ortho has sent another text
10:48
(Blue Candle) Meet me in the nurse's office soon so I can get your blood type and stuff
(Yuu & Grim) Ok!
"C'mon, Yuu! Let's go, I'm bored," meows Grim. I smile and nod. I can process this later, anyway.
@cenatour
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#disney twst#m!yuu#twst yuu#twst grim#twst oc#twst epel#twst ortho#twst azul#twst rook#twst#what if yuu didn't want to go back#tw pet death#tw neglect
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Summary: Flirting and fangs.
A/N: Kryptonians have fangs in my heart. Reader has a metagene, but it isn't mentioned what it is. No alter ego or anything for reader in this. Still not great with writing kisses recently and I don't know why. Their meeting is basically how he meets Tana.
-
“Hey, Kon…”
[Name] froze the second she stepped into the apartment, blinking rapidly in equal parts shock and awe.
She’d had a crush on him from the moment she'd met him, even if it had only been in the briefest of passing. It was hard not to, unfortunately. Despite the constant flirting and the fact that he’d—literally—picked her up with no warning and no real reason other than, well, flirting, she knew enough about the person he was beyond that on account of the company she kept with those close to Superman. Multiple occasions of his willingness to sacrifice himself were more than enough to overshadow his exhausting display of hormones.
And, okay, it was a little entertaining. And a nice ego boost on a bad day.
They'd talked constantly after their first meeting, enough that she'd grown comfortable enough with him to push open his door upon arriving, since he'd said to do just that.
She hadn’t counted on walking in on him shirtless.
She was a simple person. A simple person who might have enjoyed staring at attractive men a little more than most people, but she was positive that staring at him would have been a natural response to anyone. He was the definition of chiseled, and that came from someone who spent time around those considered at the peak of human performance.
“Oh, you're early.”
She might have guessed he'd just woken up, considering the state of his hair—and his state of dress—but all else was forgotten as he yawned, revealing perfectly white teeth embellished with a set of fangs.
And she could have died then and there, because, yes, her metagene and luck had given her access to the company of some of the most attractive men she'd ever seen, both in pretty boy and ruggedly handsome terms, but she couldn’t ever remember seeing someone so attractive up close that also had a set of fangs.
It made sense, she reasoned.
Superman had a set, but she hadn’t ever been in a room with the big man, and Supergirl had a set, but she’d never noticed them as something to focus on. But Conner's sharp set of canines had her cheeks turning red for an inexplicable reason.
Why was that so attractive?
“Something wrong?”
“Nope. Definitely not.” Her hurried response might have been a little too obvious, especially when Kon was more than capable of hearing her quickening pulse.
Judging by his quirked brow, he was already fully aware of her state, and if his grin was any indication, he was starting to realize why she was so flustered.
He was the worst.
He made a show of pulling on his shirt, every movement of muscle beneath his skin making her heartbeat simultaneously feel like it was going to pound out of her chest and about to stop.
And if her newfound knowledge of exactly what was under his shirt wasn’t enough, she knew that he had fangs now, too.
“You know that’s not fair.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.” His grin was wide enough to show the fangs—arguably more attractive than even his bare chest had been.
It was hardly sophisticated, but when her eyes couldn’t look away, it was all she could think to comment on, “You have fangs.”
His grin fell just enough to make his confusion obvious. “Yeah?”
“Never saw them before.”
Again, his grin widened, “Is that why your heart is beating so fast?”
The worst. He was absolutely the worst.
“So what if it is?”
“Awe, no need to get so defensive.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Considering how they’d met and his constant flirting throughout the extent of their friendship, of course her obvious admiration would amp up his already exhausting teasing.
“Lay off, man. You already know you’re hot. GBS’s viewer base has been very clear about that.”
“Sure, but that didn’t mean that you found me hot.”
“What does that matter? You only satisfied if every woman on Earth is attracted to you?”
“I think I’d be satisfied with just you.”
She blinked.
“That would mean more if you weren’t constantly flirting with every woman that you lay eyes on.”
“C’mon, I’m being serious here.”
She scoffed, “You’re flirting. Again. Doesn’t seem much different from normal.” She wouldn’t lie. Different or not, she was far happier to respond to the flirting than usual. “If you really are being more serious than normal, I wouldn’t mind if you acted on it.”
He never made it easy to forget, even with his power and heroics, that he was young—even younger than he seemed—but the way he lit up at her response was so juvenile, like a kid whose crush said they liked them back.
Actually, wait, maybe that was what was happening here.
“You’re serious. You’re actually serious.”
“I tried to tell you that, but no, I can’t ever be serious.”
“Well, if you’re going to be annoying about it, don’t expect me to follow through with that invitation.”
“No, wait!” He almost seemed genuinely panicked, which was more than a little amusing, considering how low the stakes were.
“Oh, relax Kon. I’m just teasing you. It’s taking you long enough to make your move though, you know?”
“Impatient, huh?”
“Hardly.” In contrast to the claim, she tilted her head upward the moment he leaned closer.
“Well, if you’re not interested…”
She grabbed the front of his shirt as he began to move away, “Conner Kent, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m gonna kill you. And you better use those fangs, or so help me.”
An amused breath hit her in the face, “Yes ma’am.” And then his lips met her own.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was well-practiced, still with a clumsy eagerness that she’d expect from someone like him. His lips were slightly chapped, and that was all she was able to think before they slotted against her own perfectly, drowning out any other thoughts.
He pulled back enough to sink his teeth into her bottom lip, earning nothing short of a whine in response. The chuff of a laugh that escaped him at the noise was cut off by her own bite.
The second her teeth sank in, a growl rumbled in his chest and the hand that had been resting innocently against her jaw moved seamlessly to tangle in her hair.
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah?”
“Didn’t mean to say that out loud. But yeah. That’s good.”
“Back at ya.” His hand remained in her hair, the grip tilting her forehead against his, “So… up for round two?”
“Up for as many as you can handle, SB.”
“That a challenge?”
She grinned, “Absolutely.”
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Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down. He raised his hands over his head in a sort of mute despair, and then beat his palms together in a helpless way; finally he sat down on a chair, and putting his hands before his face, began to sob, with loud, dry sobs that seemed to come from the very racking of his heart. Then he raised his arms again, as though appealing to the whole universe. "God! God! God!" he said. "What have we done, what has this poor thing done, that we are so sore beset? Is there fate amongst us still, sent down from the pagan world of old, that such things must be, and in such way? This poor mother, all unknowing, and all for the best as she think, does such thing as lose her daughter body and soul; and we must not tell her, we must not even warn her, or she die, and then both die. Oh, how we are beset! How are all the powers of the devils against us!" Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Come," he said, "come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him all the same."
I feel like today's entry, and specifically this scene, is a key characterization for van Helsing in much the same way Mina going across town to rescue Lucy was for her.
He has been running himself ragged trying to solve everything himself. While he's not willing to tell the truth to people, I do think it's out of a protective instinct most of all. He also treats Lucy like a child. This is depriving her of respect as a fellow adult, and excluding her from key information about her own life and death. That's definitely no good either, but once again it seems clear to me that he means it well, and is trying to comfort and protect her. He's trying not to burden other people with knowledge that will only hurt them. It's a serious flaw, but not one unique to him by any means, and not maliciously meant.
In a way, his anguish over being unable to warn Mrs. Westenra about the danger of what she did without killing her (and thus possibly Lucy) sums up his feelings about telling the others about vampires. It's just, the danger they will face isn't physical. But he'll destroy their worldview if they believe him, he'll cause them deep anguish and fear. And if they don't believe him, he might destroy his own relationship with them, and he might lose his ability to try and save Lucy. At the same time, nothing he's trying is succeeding in saving Lucy anyway. It feels like every single time he makes any progress or thinks he finds some kind of solution, he returns to find her dying again. No wonder he talks about fate; it's like nothing he can do is able to help. How can this even happen, without the power of all the devils surrounding them and actively working against them?
But then we come to the defining moment. Because van Helsing refuses to give up. Even if it's a fight he's destined to lose, he's going to fight it all the way to the end, because Lucy doesn't deserve this. He lets himself break down, can't help it - but he ensures that he doesn't show any of it to Mrs. Westenra or Lucy. He tries to be gentle and smiling with both of them. And he gives himself only a minute before getting back up and heading in to resume the fight again. He donates blood himself, this time, and then volunteers to stay up with her for multiple nights to come, even though he sent both younger men home after their own transfusions, and was just talking about how much exhaustion has built up for him.
He hates everything about this. But above all, he wants to protect people. Whether that be their emotions/innocence (in many ways misguidedly), their health, or their soul. He will give all he has, will push himself to keep going until the very end to protect them as best he can.
#dracula daily#van helsing#not excusing him not telling them btw. but i understand how he gets there#it's very consistent to his character
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I was casually rereading whtd, as one does, and reading the comments (because i love the extra insight you give about the information that we're limited to in Ga On's pov) when i stumbled upon this comment: "… sort everything out? (and no one dies along the way, hopefully) He'll be very happy for them." about lawyer Ko and that in combination with the "minor character death tag" has made me Extremele worried about him. (plus you have also said that the kidnapping tag is not the one we should be worried about!!) I know you probably can't say anything about this because of spoilers, but know that it has been noted!!
Also kind of want a scene wherein lawyer Ko, Yo Han and Ga On are all together. Their dynamic would be so exquisite!! (obviously no pressure to actually write this, just a thought)
Anyway, whtd remains so good even after already having read and reread it in its entirety at least 5 times (and some scenes/chapters much more than that) (my ao3 history says i've visited whtd 200 times… so uh. yeah. i'm normal). I love slow burn so much (to the point where most romance book leave me disappointed bc they MCs get together like 100 pages in), i just love reading/watching the build up of a relationship and you write it so well!
I guess i just wanted to thank you for writing! I hope you're doing well <3
I'm usually very careful not to spoil what's going to happen in future chapters but I'll make an exception this time and flat-out say that you don't have to worry — Lawyer Ko is not going to die. I would literally never forgive myself if I killed him xD Not to mention that you all would probably come for my head if I did. He's just too amazing to be killed off!
So, rest assured, he's not going to die :)
And there will be at least one scene with Ga On, Yo Han, and Lawyer Ko in the same room unless my plans change dramatically. Which they rarely do, but "rarely" isn't the same as "never" so we'll see. Truth be told, though, I'll probably try really hard to keep it because I totally agree — the dynamic would be SPECTACULAR. So yeah. Stay tuned for that, I guess? ;)
You've definitely read Who Holds the Devil more times than I have x'D At least in its entirety. I mean, I reread the chapters at least twice (often three or four times) but I rarely start from the beginning and read it all the way through. I did at the end of my long break last year to get back into the swing of it, but it's difficult to find the time for that since I always have to focus on the next chapter. Which is a bit stressful at times, I will admit, since it puts more pressure on me to remember things at the top of my head (or at least know where to look if I want to check any details) but I'm lucky enough to be blessed with a really good memory, so that helps.
Anyway, I'm so glad you're enjoying it 💜 I honestly didn't plan for the slow burn to be quite this slow when I started the fic, but I can't say I have any regrets. Much like you, I just enjoy it too much ;) There's something so incredibly satisfying about delving this deep into Ga On and Yo Han's feelings and slowly developing relationship. And I guess that's also why I can't help throwing out tidbits of information in the comments, since there's usually so, so much happening within this story that you readers don't see (especially within Yo Han's head).
And I'm still not sure how to handle the knowledge that some people read the comments specifically to find those tidbits. Like, I don't mind you doing so! Go right ahead! They're public and all that. But it kind of blows my mind that some of you are so interested in what I'm writing that you'll do that. It feels a bit surreal to me, but in a good way? Like I'm an ACTUAL writer or something xD
Anyway, thank you so much for this kind and supportive message 💜 I definitely needed it right now because things honestly aren't all that great. Partly because of overall exhaustion and restlessness — mostly due to work — but even more so since it's now been a month since I posted a chapter and the requests for me to please update soon are starting to come in. I swear, it happens like clockwork every time I don't post within a month. And, what makes it worse, is that it's often from people I don't see comments from when I actually DO upload more frequently. As in, they don't comment on the fic itself, only when they think I don't update fast enough. Which is pretty disheartening, not going to lie.
Tragically enough, once the month mark passes, I have to start bracing myself whenever I get a comment or ask because there's now a 50/50 chance that it'll be someone asking me to update soon. They usually try to be nice about it, but it kind of always fails.
So, again, thank you for this. Because while I know that I should take my time and update on my own schedule, it's not always easy to remember that when people start asking me why it's taking so long. This was a nice change of pace and I'm very grateful for your kindness. Thank you 💜
#Amethystina Replies#Anonymous#... well that turned into a bit of a bummer#Sorry about that#I think I'm just a bit moody in general tonight#I actually have 8k written on the next chapter#But as usual I don't know exactly how long it'll end up being#So that's not saying much#I also admit that I'm kind of dragging my feet a little#Because it's another chapter that's very exhausting to write#And since I'm already exhausted it's difficult to find the energy to write#I'm not one of those who need motivation since I can push through most types of writer's block#But I DO need to be able to string sentences together#And I can't guarantee that in my current state
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DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY
OBORO - VOICE COLLECTION
━
"I thought of reading something, but it seems I haven't stocked up on any new books. Would you take me to a bookstore?"
"Are you seeking to borrow my "power"? Unfortunately, I am quite powerless. I won't be of much help."
"...Novels? They're pointless. Simply unraveling fictional events. It doesn't benefit anyone."
"As you can see, my enthusiasm has all dried up. I'd appreciate it if we could keep this conversation short."
"Hm? Do you require my knowledge?"
"If you have any troubles, feel free to share them."
"Let's rely on intellect for this."
"Victory achieved. Is that enough for you?"
"Ugh...Have I been a hindrance?"
"A reward, you say? It's best if you take it with you."
"Wandering aimlessly will only lead to exhaustion. It's essential to move with some degree of efficiency."
"Hmph...Exploration, is it? I understand, but don't expect too much."
"Hm? I sense Kai's presence from this vicinity...Perhaps something related to him has been left behind?"
"What's this oppressive presence...? ...Ah, is this Kai's presence...?"
"Finally, it's over...This was a laborious task. I think I'll take a break for a little while."
"It's been a while since I've been made to work this hard. Please make good use of the results of our exploration."
"Hmm...I can still sense Kai's presence. It might not mean much, but there must be some significance to it."
"New knowledge has been acquired."
"It seems I've gained a bit more power. Although I still can't compare to the others..."
"Haven't I told you? Don't expect too much from me. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be disappointed, would you?"
"Knowledge is key. The more you retain, the more you acquire. However, gaining power as a Black Fairy isn't that simple."
"Novels are nothing more than endless lies and fantasies...It's because of such things that I..."
"There aren't many ways I can be of help...Nevertheless, you choose to keep me by your side."
"Why do you want to involve me...? You have nothing to gain from it."
"Life is limited, and it must be used meaningfully."
"It seems you have some knowledge, but from my perspective, you still have much to learn. Continue to strive."
"Excessive expectations aren't beneficial...But I want to meet your expectations. Your hopes of me. That is the truth."
-
KAI : Hey, Oboro, there's a dried fruit mentioned in this book, but I'm having trouble with the drying process. Can you help me out?
OBORO : Before relying on others, did you make an effort to research it yourself? I won't lend my wisdom to a slacker like you.
-
MATEO : So, this book is full of...That. And this, um, this one...?
OBORO : This isn't a picture book, Mateo. It is more of a field guide. If you're interested, I might let you borrow it.
-
OBORO : It seems like babysitting, doesn't it? It's good that you're not getting lost this time, but I hope I can count on you for exploration.
MATEO : Understood! Power, skill, knowledge...Mateo, do it all!
-
MATEO : Over here! No, over here! Over here? Oboro, where are you?
OBORO : Mateo, if you don't know the way, it's best to stay quiet and follow closely behind me. I'll lead the way.
-
OBORO : Hah...Huff...Babysitting Mateo has made me feel even more exhausted...But, I'm relieved we made it back safely.
MATEO : Oboro, are you tired? What should I...Should I smile more? Will that help?
-
PLATINUM : Hey, Professor Oboro, do you happen to know how to make rare medicines, which could potentially be sold for a very high price...?
OBORO : Platinum, don't be fooled. My knowledge is at your disposal, but medicine isn't meant for making money.
-
PLATINUM : Let's get moving Professor Oboro. You're a smart one, so you must know that time is money, right?
OBORO : You are rather cash-minded, aren't you? Exploring this vast place is a bit of a burden for me, you see.
-
PLATINUM : Oh...You really don't have much stamina, Professor Oboro. Don't push yourself too hard and collapse, okay?
OBORO : ...It's probably your fault for needlessly making me walk in your search for money...! Hah...Huff...Anyway...I'm going to rest now.
-
HEINKEL : Oboro, what kind of book is that? I find it difficult to believe it would be some lowbrow novel, especially coming from you.
OBORO : The book I'm reading is a medical textbook. If it bothers you, I can refrain from reading it in your presence...?
-
HEINKEL : Before we begin our exploration - Oboro, if you're not feeling well, don't hesitate to let us know.
OBORO : Hmph, in that case, you better just pray it doesn't happen.
-
OBORO : Exploration really takes a toll on one's physical and mental strength. More than you'd imagine...
HEINKEL : Even though you got tired, you never gave up on your duties. Thank you, Oboro.
-
OBORO : My lack of stamina aside, Chitose, you're not exactly a powerhouse, are you? Both of us collapsing wouldn't be a laughing matter.
CHITOSE : Hohoho~ Indeed~ Let's make sure not to cause any unnecessary worries. Let's do our best within our own reasonable limits.
-
OBORO : Hah...Hah...Huff...You are breathing perfectly fine. Chitose, it seems I underestimated you...
CHITOSE : Hohoho~ There was no need to be concerned. I enjoy going for walks. I'm used to this kind of thing.
-
CHITOSE : Oboro, how about we both congratulate each other on our return with a round of tea. We can report our findings later.
OBORO : Hmph. Well...That suggestion isn't awful. It wouldn't hurt to take just a moment of rest.
#Otome#Yumekuro#Yumekuro Translations#YMKR translations#YMKR#Dream Meister Translations#Otome Translations#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy#Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy translations#Oboro
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