#this is what I get for not updating my game
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Winter's King 11
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: friday, my day, am i right?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
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You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there?
“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.”
“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.”
You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you.
“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate.
You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.”
“You are not in Debray now,” he muses.
You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him.
“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance.
“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.”
“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--”
“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.”
You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.”
You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone.
“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.”
You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment.
“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...”
“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?”
You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath.
“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.”
“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating.
He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain.
“We may begin simple,” he intones.
So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response.
“You have a question?” He prompts.
“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines.
“I can tell,” he says brightly.
You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks.
“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles.
He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait.
“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.”
“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter.
“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides.
“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.”
He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.”
You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do?
⚔️
“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.”
“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.
“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.”
You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair.
“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--”
“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.”
“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.”
“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.”
You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?”
You twist around to look at the door, then to him.
“I will go wherever you command, your highness.”
“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?”
There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you.
“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.”
He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.”
“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?”
Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away.
“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you.
He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh.
“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.”
You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.”
He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed.
“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.”
You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away.
“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table.
Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales.
He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow.
“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.”
You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall.
Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife.
He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts.
He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool.
He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream.
“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.”
You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months.
“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.”
He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side.
“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.”
You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there.
He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs.
Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand.
“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you.
“A game, your highness?” You babble.
He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.”
Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king.
“Your highness,” you utter.
“It’s my command,” he says, “run.”
#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#dark geralt#dark!geralt#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#winter's king#the witcher
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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—CHAPTER TEN
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: ANGST
Warnings: swearing and just angst.
Notes: Yayy! An update after being gone for a month or so lmao XD but anywho, heaven and back would be updated next week, I'm still finishing the chapter up lol.
Second notes: incase if you haven't seen the Azrael fanart my friend did for me, here's the link~! And also, did you know we have a discord server? Here's the link to it:3 come and join, everyone is friendly<3 and if you're already part of the server, come and say hi too:D
Word count: 4.6k
PART ONE I PART NINE | PART ELEVEN | NAVIGATION
Michael lets out a deep exhale once he finally hears the door to [Y/n]'s room clicked as he closes it. He was beyond worried when he heard the news of what happened to her. He blamed himself for being the cause of her passing out, if only he didn't send her down there then she would've been fine.
Michael leans against [Y/n]'s door, running a hand through his soft blond locks, eyes closed as he sighs.
Unaware of the approaching dark haired taller male.
Azrael's eyebrow raised as he noticed the blond man scrunched against [Y/n]'s door, seemingly in deep thought.
Azrael heard what happened and he immediately rushed back to heaven after his work, he was worried sick for the woman.
He sighs, although he didn't show it. His charming and mischievous face remains unchanged as he approaches the door.
“Michael, didn't expect to see you today.” Azrael says, his usual teasing and sultry voice catching Michael's attention.
Michael's head raised up—previously hung low—to look at the source of the voice, only to see Azrael in his deathly glory.
“I heard what happened so I immediately came here to check up on her, especially knowing she went down there and possibly saw him.” Michael explained and Azrael fought back the urge to roll his eyes at the man.
“Still wondering why you chose her to go down there, I was willing to take the load off her shoulders.”
Michael sighs, running a hand through his light blond hair, he doesn't get paid enough for this.
“I know and I suggested it to her right? To do the rock-paper-scissors game again after she lost but she was determined to take the case and I needed to respect that, she was fully prepared to go down there.” Michael explained, exhaustion evident on his voice. He was confused too, worried even. He can only believe God's words, the man sees everything—the past, present, and future.
He can only trust his judgement despite how it pains him to see [Y/n] suffer.
Azrael sighs, stuffing both of his hands in the pocket of his pants. Decided not to further question the man and possibly aggravate both of them.
Fights between Virtues are close to non-existent, but never zero. Arguments can be dangerous for powerful heavenly beings such as themselves.
“I shall not question you further, I'll hand you my reports later this evening so for now, excuse me.” Azrael says with a sigh, walking past Michael as he knocked on [Y/n]'s door before entering.
The door closed with a click. Michael was alone in that hallway after, with a sigh and finally drooping his heavy shoulders, he walked away.
For someone to be God's right hand man, he doesn't know anything. He has no choice but to place his trust in their heavenly father.
Who is currently away to a place they don't know.
‘What a mess,’ Michael thought to himself, the worried expression on his face disappearing as it was replaced with his usual cold and aloof facial expression that he is known for, shoulders straightening up, his footsteps fading as he disappeared from the hallway.
[Y/n] was blankly staring at the ceiling as she was lying down on her bed, seemingly lost in thought.
Azrael sighs, heels clicking as he walks towards her bed, [Y/n] shifted her head to look at the sound of the noise just to see Azrael, sitting on the empty spot of the side of her bed.
She gave him a weak and tired smile.
“Are you alright? I heard what happened,” Azrael muttered, a worried look on his face, “What did I tell you about pushing yourself to the limit?”
“The audacity to say that to me with your nonexistent sleep schedule—” [Y/n] says with a teasing tone but got playfully smacked by a pillow by none other than Azrael.
“I am death, I do not need sleep.”
Azrael says with a small pout, returning back the pillow to where he got it from, crossing his arms and crossing his long and slender legs.
[Y/n] chuckled softly, moving her position to sit on the bed instead of lying down.
“I mean... You looked like death.” She says, Azrael raises his eyebrow at her.
“I don't know why but I feel offended by that statement—”
[Y/n] stares at him, almost a deadpan looking the man up and down, “Come on... You know what I mean.”
“It's the bags underneath my eyes isn't it?” he asked, deadpanning at her, “Michael has it worse, stop attacking me.”
Azrael sighs, sometimes he forgets how difficult she is.
‘Dear father, give me the strength not to end her myself. I'm just kidding, I didn't mean to say that—’
He thought to himself, letting out a long exhale as he saw the teasing grin on the girl's face.
“You're trying to distract me.” he says, eyes narrowing into a deadpan, his lips still in a pout.
“Is it working?” [Y/n] asked with a playful tone, eyebrow raised teasingly at the male.
“Unfortunately.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, long and slender fingers weaving through the dark black locks in slight frustration.
Whenever he's with her, he sighs a lot. That's something he noticed a long time ago.
The heart palpitations he gets whenever she's near might've not been because of attraction, it's probably because of stress.
She stresses him out.
Okay, just a little bit.
Azrael sighs once more, [Y/n] resisting herself to burst out into laughter, “That's the sixth time you've sighed.” She points out, Azrael deadpans at her.
“Thank you for keeping count, I really appreciate it.” He says, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“You're welcome, death.” She says, it was enough for both of them to burst into chuckles.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock was heard from her door, catching both of them off guard.
The door opens. A long dark blue haired woman can be seen standing by the door. Her hair tied into a ponytail yet her hair still reaches her waist. A serious look on her face.
Gabriel is here.
‘Oh shit.’ Azrael thought to himself, a shiver running down his back.
The room suddenly felt colder with the woman's presence. Something that often happens whenever Gabriel is in the room.
“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.
“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.
Gabriel, known as God's messenger; she handles reports that are needed to be passed around between realms.
It is natural that the news of Raphael collapsing would immediately reach her.
She can never understand what [Y/n] sees in Lucifer, sure she can see the vision but after what happened and what he did to [Y/n].
She gets the ick.
When the meeting about Sera and Adam's actions were held and the meeting also included about this 'Hazbin Hotel proposed by none other than Lucifer's daughter.
Someone needs to oversee it.
Unfortunately, [Y/n] lost the game that decides that.
The other members thought it was a bad idea but [Y/n] insists, saying that it's fair.
She doesn't want them to baby her. She wants to prove to them that she's okay.
Gabriel was beyond worried, [Y/n] is like a little sister to her despite their ages being so close to each other.
She trusts [Y/n], she can't trust Lucifer.
She couldn't trust the man who abandoned his wife for another woman.
Especially when she learned that Lilith left Lucifer.
It made Gabriel smile when she found out.
Qui totum vult totum perdit, as she always says.
Which translates to, ‘he who wants everything, loses everything.’
Michael usually refutes it with an, ‘Omnia causa fiunt.’
Which translates to, everything happens for a reason.
She doesn't understand Michael sometimes, despite knowing the man for many eons now.
She supposed Michael has some secrets to hide as the heavenly father's right hand man.
She couldn't imagine the burden he's carrying but then again, everyone in the seven virtues has something to hide.
She hums to herself, her mind returning what she was previously thinking.
What was she talking about again?
Oh, Lucifer.
Lucifer got greedy, he lost both of his wives in the process.
What differs him from the first man then?
Nothing.
After all, he is the embodiment of the sin of pride.
He is prideful, arrogant, and greedy.
Not much of a difference between him and Adam, except for how they show their arrogance.
Lucifer became blind when given the opportunity to act upon his God forsaken dreams.
Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The very dreams that doomed humanity.
With that blindness, he lost everything in the process.
As what he deserves.
Gabriel wonders why can't [Y/n] see that a man is willing to go on his knees to worship her?
Azrael, the angel of death.
The virtue of humility. Despite Azrael's slight narcissistic personality, the man knows how to be humble.
Despite the popular belief.
The man knows how to control himself. He knows the difference between being arrogant and being proud of one's achievement.
Unlike Lucifer.
Although, Azrael is borderline to it, she won't speak about it though. Nope, nuh uh.
How funny, Lucifer the sin of pride and Azrael the virtue of humility.
Gabriel almost chuckled at the thought, ‘I supposed there are two sides of the same coin.’
With a sigh, the sounds of her heels clicking against the tiled floors came to a halt.
She stood in the hallway of the Caeles mansion, facing the door that leads to [Y/n]'s room.
She can hear [Y/n]'s muffled behind the door, along with a familiar voice of Azrael laughing. Though, muffled.
Gabriel tilts her body slightly to the side so she can gaze outside through the many windows that are in the hallway.
Dark evening blue skies are what she can see, the sun has set a few hours ago.
She's not sure, the concept of time doesn't matter to an immortal being such as her.
She turns to face the door once more, taking a deep breath as she composes herself.
Stand straight, chest up, shoulders back. Confidence.
She knocks and opens the door.
“Gabriel... Hi—” [Y/n] says nervously, getting cut off.
“Save it Raphael, Azrael please leave.” Gabriel says, voice dripping with icy coldness.
Azrael smiled nervously at [Y/n], patting the girl's head before getting up from where he was sitting—the edge or side of [Y/n]'s bed—his heels clicked on the tiled floor as he walked.
He passes by Gabriel, patting the woman on the shoulder before exiting the room.
The door clicked as it closed. [Y/n] nervously gulped.
Gabriel sighs, finally letting herself walk towards [Y/n]'s direction.
The sound of her heels clicking against the tiled floor is what [Y/n] can only hear, she plays with her thumbs nervously. Her [e/c] eyes avoiding deep dark blue ones.
“We need to talk.” She says sternly as she sits on the edge of the bed, [Y/n] sighs and nodded.
This is going to be fun. [Y/n] thought to herself, sighing mentally.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms as she looked at the other female.
[Y/n] chuckled nervously, “I sorta got ambushed by evil...?”
Gabriel just stared blankly at her before deadpanning, “How—”
“It just happened okay?” [Y/n] just sighs and Gabriel just inhales and then exhales loudly.
“I don't want to continue asking about that,” Gabriel says flatly, clearly lost for words.
[Y/n] just nodded before looking away to avoid the other woman's eyes.
“Why do you insist on taking this job?” Gabriel asked, her dark blue eyes sternly looking at the [h/c] haired girl.
[Y/n] looked at the other woman in the eye, faltering slightly from the sharpness or Gabriel's dark blue ones.
“Because I just want to, what more reason do you want?” [Y/n] says nervously, avoiding Gabriel's stern and judgemental gaze.
Gabriel sighs then raises an eyebrow at her, “We know you just want to see him. It's been eons, [Y/n]. Why are you still hung up on the guy? You should move on and perhaps find someone new?” she asked her and [Y/n] avoided Gabriel's gaze and turned to look at the window near her bed, watching as the clouds passed by her window.
She sighs, “I can't, I still love him, Gabriel. After all these years my heart still yearns for him, aches, and beats for him.” she whispers softly, voice shaking and vulnerable.
Gabriel sighs, “You always let your emotions get in the way, that's the problem with you [Y/n] you don't think.” she says sternly and [Y/n] remained quiet, she knows Gabriel is right but she can't help it.
“He's just a man, [y/n].”
“A failure of an angel, he brings shame to the seraphims.”
“No, he's not.” [Y/n] refutes back yet her voice lacks resolve, it was barely a whisper.
“So what are you telling me? That this is all worth it because he's the love of your life and this was the man for you” Gabriel asked, a tinge of anger in her voice, her words sending knives to [Y/n]'s heart.
Gabriel is right and she refuses to listen.
“I don't know... He might've been.” [Y/n] answers weakly, a single tear running down her left cheek.
“This is ridiculous.” Gabriel says and [Y/n] just gave a pained laugh, “I know.” she says, she knows that.
“So there's no chance of changing your mind then?” Gabriel asked, a small scoff leaving her lips, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in slight annoyance at the thought of [Y/n] going down in hell once more.
[Y/n] nodded, Gabriel sighed and stood up from where she was sitting, “You're really an idiot, [Y/n].” Gabriel says with a small sigh, a strand of dark blue hair falling on her face. She uses her finger to tuck those strands behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes analyzing the other woman—helpless, weak, an utter fool for lowering herself for a man.
One might say the standards are in hell because of how low it is.
How ironic, amusing.
[Y/n] smiled weakly, she knows. She knows she's stupid for loving a man this much.
Yet, she can't help it. She's a fool. A fool in love with the devil, who was once an angel, who was once her loving husband.
You can never really know you love someone until they've hurt you and still think of them as the best person ever.
“Yeah, I know.” [Y/n] says with a pained smile, a bitter chuckle escaping from her plump pink lips.
Gabriel stood up from where she was sitting, walking to a nearby window that's near the edge of her bed, she stared outside the glass panel, her hands behind her back.
“Does that mean you'll be going down there again?” She asked, not bothering to look at [Y/n].
“Yeah.” [Y/n] nodded, her eyes downcast as she looked defeated. She hated herself for being like this.
“I am not stopping you, you're far too stubborn to listen anyways.” Gabriel says, voice monotone and tired.
“I know.” she says, voice barely above a whisper, a meek and powerless voice. Not wanting to agree with Gabriel but the woman is right and it hurts admitting it.
“Don't say I didn't tell you so.”
Not the first time someone told her that, and it didn't end well for her.
History repeats itself.
And as usual, it's her fault for not listening.
Azrael stood behind the door, ear pressed on the wooden door, eavesdropping.
He is aware that Gabriel can be harsh sometimes and he is also curious.
Can't say what he heard didn't break his heart.
He moves away from the door and leans against the wall, his face expressionless.
He has no reason to cry about it, he knows he had no chance.
A small smile was now on his face and a single tear slid down from his left eye, leaving a wet trail on to his pale cheek.
The door suddenly opens which prompted him to quickly wipe the tear away and composed himself.
He watches as Gabriel walks out of the door and closes the door behind her.
Dark blue eyes meeting dark black ones.
Gabriel's eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Azrael standing and leaning on the wall near the door, “I thought you left.” she says, eyebrow raised at him.
Azrael chuckled softly, his voice smooth and sweet yet had a tinge of slight bitterness.
“I was curious what you girls were talking about, curiosity kills the cat indeed.” he says with a slight humor in his voice.
Gabriel's eyes softened slightly, “Are you okay?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.
Azrael shakes his head, “No, but I will be eventually.” he says with a small sigh, “Perhaps I should start moving on, besides, I'm starting to get interested in a certain someone.” he murmured, a mischievous grin on his face as remembered a certain archangel who is the acting celestial scribe to the book of life.
“Is it Michael?” she asked and Azrael gave her a disgust and flabbergasted expression, a hand over his chest.
“Excuse me?” he says, dumbfounded, “I may swing both ways but he isn't my type.” he says flatly, Gabriel gave him a side eye.
“Really? I swear both of you have this weird tension. The younglings say they 'ship' you and you two are the perfect representation of old man yaoi whatever that means.”
Azrael almost choked on air, what the fuck? Where did those angels even learn those words—
“Gabriel, what the fuck?”
Gabriel chuckles, nudging the male's shoulder, “I am just kidding.” she says with a teasing tone before humming to herself, “Metatron was it? I barely interact with them nor see them often. They're like Michael but worse, they're usually near father at all times to help him write the book of life so we barely see them in public.” she deadpans before looking at Azrael, “Since you are the angel of death, I supposed you see them often. I can just imagine you annoying them every time you're with them.” she says flatly.
Azrael chuckles, “Indeed, they're rather interesting but for now, I'll resolve my personal issues before acting upon my interest in them.”
“Good. Go to therapy.” Gabriel says, her lips pressed in a thin line as she looked at Azrael with a deadpan expression.
Azrael pouted a little.
“But I no no wanna...” he whined dramatically with a small laugh as he began to follow Gabriel as they walked away from [Y/n]'s room, the click of their heels slowly faded away as they slowly disappeared from the room.
Meanwhile,
“Dad, are you okay?” Charlie asked softly, her father staring outside his bedroom window, a lost look on his face.
Charlie was outside the door during her father and her supposed half brother arguing.
She wanted to come inside the room and try to calm both men down, but when she heard Xavier's voice as he talked to their father.
Charlie could hear eons of rage and utter pain in the boy's voice.
It stopped her from intervening, a voice in her mind kept telling her, ‘Don't. He needs this.’
Even if their father was the receiver of those harsh words.
She might not fully know nor understand the pain and suffering Xavier went but when she looked at the boy's [e/c] eyes, she was able to see utter sadness despite the blank expression on his face.
Lucifer was just blankly staring outside the window, his eyes fixated on the outside world but his mind somewhere, lost and drowning in his own self hate.
He hated it. He was not prepared. He was not prepared to see an almost exact replica of himself to arrive at his daughter's doorstep.
He was not prepared to see an exact replica of him filled with anger and sadness.
Seeing Xavier with his own two eyes, he was able to understand a bit of what the boy went through.
And he was the cause of it.
He regretted the things he has done, especially on how he treated [Y/n].
He was young—no, he was stupid. Just stupid.
Nothing can excuse his actions. He was an idiot and a fool.
[Y/n] was there for him, she was his best friend and he treated her like that.
Like a doll he discarded once he got bored.
He was wrong on how he treated her.
He should've done that, he should've loved her properly, treated her properly.
He should've been Xavier's father, the father that the boy needed and the father that the boy could trust.
Not someone he looks at with so much anger.
Terrifying, Xavier's rage reminded him of his own when he fell from grace.
Though, the reasons are highly different.
He loves [Y/n], he still does.
He realized that he still does in fact love the woman when he was separated from her for many, many years.
He would often call out to her without thinking, then remembering ‘Oh, she's not here.’
Falling from grace was enough to slap some sense into him.
He treated an amazing woman like her like garbage.
He's really an asshole.
Lilith cannot compare to [Y/n], he can't remember how many times [Y/n]'s name slips from his lips whenever he argues with Lilith.
It created distance between them.
Lilith couldn't take it anymore and left him.
He was left alone to wallow in self pity. He was left alone to mourn for the woman he left to suffer in her heartbreak which he caused.
He mourned his first love, he mourned his first son.
Which he doesn't deserve to do, considering that it should be the opposite.
To Xavier, he's a dead man. To [Y/n], he's a nobody.
Charlie watches her father with an unreadable expression on her, her hand outstretched as if to reach him but it hesitated midway. Shaking and unsure.
“Dad...?” she softly calls out again, her voice echoing despite the ringing in Lucifer's ears. His daughter's voice sounds like it's echoing in the four corners of his hotel room.
Suffocating. It felt like he was trapped in his own mind. His mistakes echoed like a siren's call to him. Teasing him.
He felt cold. He felt numb.
Snap. Everything stopped. The ringing stopped.
Though, his heart is beating erratically against his ribcage, like a monster threatening to get out of its prison.
He felt utterly numb.
His eyes are scanning his room, gentle streaks of light filtering through the glass panel of his windows giving his room a reddish like hue.
With a deep shaky sigh, he turned around and faced his daughter, his hand gripping his cane clenched ever so slightly.
“Charlie, dear... I would like to be alone at the moment.” he says, hesitantly. Voice quivering in each syllable, each word filled with the regrets of his past and present. Weighing him down.
Charlie's eyes widened ever so slightly before giving her father a small reassuring smile, “Oh! Of course... Excuse me...” she says giving him a small bow before turning around on her heels to walk towards the door. She paused, took a deep breath before looking at her father through her shoulder.
“If you need me, I'll be somewhere around the hotel. I'll always be here for you, dad.” she says with a small smile before turning around once more, twisting the doorknob open and walks out of the door.
The door clicked to a close when she was gone.
Lucifer's tensed shoulders loosened as it drops, a small frown on his beautiful face.
A single tear slips past his eye, the droplet sliding down on his left cheek, leaving a trail on his soft and pale yet rosy cheek.
“I know.” he whispered before a choked sob escaped his lips.
He can feel the stinging sensation around his eyes, vision blurring as tears mess up his sense of sight.
He can feel his legs buckling as if it struggled to carry the weight of his mistakes that he's carrying on his shoulders.
It gave out as he was now on the floor, small sobs could be heard from, his sobs bouncing on the walls of his room, mocking him.
“Why am I crying? I don't deserve to cry. I don't deserve to cry after what I had done.” he says choking on his words, shoulders shaking, trembling.
He hugged himself in an attempt to comfort himself, yet he was met with painful memories of when [Y/n] used to hold him when he was crying.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...” he repeated to himself, rocking back and forth on where he was kneeling like a sinner.
Begging for her forgiveness, yet his repentance can't be heard from her.
‘It's all my fault, it's all my fault.’ thinking these words were like a stab to the heart because it is true.
With his last bit of energy, he lies down on the cold tiled floor. His white suit a pop of color to the redness all around him, his cheeks pressed against the tiles as tears continue to slide down on his pale skin and on to the floor.
“Over, I can't believe it's over, I can't believe the love I lived, to show some other day...” he quietly sang, his voice raspy from all the crying he shifts to let his body face the ceiling, his eyes staring blankly at the chandeliers.
“Listen, I hope that you can hear me...” he sang, propping his elbows on the floor to lift himself up into a kneeling position, his hands trembling, voice cracking with emotions, “As I kneel down and pray with the love I meant to say...” he sang softly, his voice beautiful yet filled with unexplainable regret.
“Shadows, you took away the shadows...”
“Before my life was black and white, though tonight the room's gone gray.”
She was the light of his life, his life was monotone before she came, she was a splash of color to the black and white of his so-called life.
“Golden, all the love you gave was golden,” he sang softly, [Y/n]'s bright smiling face flashes into his mind, a smile that brought so much warmth and happiness into his life, “Golden, I would gladly pay, to show the love I meant to say...”
“Oh, music you made me hear, such music,”
“Silly Lucifer, don't take our elder's words to heart! Their ancient beliefs can't possibly understand your amazing ideas!” [Y/n]'s words echo in his mind, for a brief moment, he could see [Y/n] smiling and giggling at him, her long white dress fluttering against the wind.
His eyes widened when the figment of his imagination of [Y/n] slowly fades away, his eyes widened in fear as he attempted to lift himself up from the floor, his hands outstretched in hopes of reaching her.
Only to grip on to nothing.
“Without you here to guide me, I feel as though I'll fly away...” he muttered, his voice continuing to break as tears continued to stream down his cheeks.
Droplets of his tears falling into the floor, his reflection mirrored into the small puddle of his pain.
“S-sorry,” his voice breaks even more, a simple word that is too late to say, too heavy to speak with his own lips. The very words he wants to say to her.
“Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you,”
He took a deep shaky breath, his wine red like eyes tired and dull, eyes puffy and red after all the crying he had done, “The other word is stay, to hear the love I meant to say.” he softly sang, small hiccups can be heard.
He's really an idiot.
© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.
TAGLIST I:
@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby
#lxkeee answers#hazbin hotel#lxkeee updates#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer x reader angst#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader angst#lucifer morningstar x you#“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”
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I don't think you talk about newest content so it's fine to ignore this if you want but, yesterday I saw a theory that said something about the counting for chapters was changed on JP? And it's proof that 7 ended two updates ago, and now the game is going back to 1? Something about Ace's title? eopfkefkefj yeah this is vague I don't really get it but just if you've heard anything.
Hello hello!! Thank you for this question!
This blog typically pretends that main story content not released on EN does not exist because spoilers are the worst :<
I will do my very best to be vague but just to be safe, minor spoilers (vaguely plot related) under the cut!
I have also come across theories that maybe the story is going backwards now!
I think that is where "Book 7 ended two chapters ago" comes from: two chapters ago on JP the content of the Main Story changed from Diasomnia characters to Ignihyde characters!
While technically we are still in Book 7 of the main story, the content seems to be going in reverse order (further proven by the announcement of Rook's new card 👀), and the theory goes that now that we have "finished" with Book 7 (Diasomnia) and will be going to Book 6, Book 5, etc.!
The "counting for chapters was changed" part is maybe about what happened on JP back when Book 7 began:
Originally the different books were not separated into "chapters" on JP!
They were separated into beginnings, middles and ends, which worked okay when books were shorter.
But then in Book 5 and Book 6 we started getting sections called "Middle Part 1," "Ending Part 1," etc., which was confusing, but it meant that we could still more or less tell how far along we were in the story and when we could expect it to end.
With Book 7, everything changed!
Suddenly we no longer have a "beginning," "middle" and "end"--we have are numbered chapters. The game has broken from its own, linear, "Book 6 -> Book 7 -> Book 8" timeline, and now anything is possible!
And that is not all! We also ran out of dorm uniform cards. Dorm cards were not released until we reached the Book about the dorm in question, and then right after Diasomnia received their dorm cards, they also received Book 7-exclusive cards that seem to be related to the new titles released on both EN and JP:
Ortho's new title for Book 7 and his Cereberus Gear is, for example, Guardian of the Underworld.
The theory says new cards do not have personal stories behind them because the information that would normally be included in these cards has been woven into the main story (which has also been proven true of both Lilia and Sebek). Another part of the game that Book 7 has changed!
It seems that the new titles will each be associated with their own cards, picked up in backwards-order just like the dorm uniform cards were picked up in forwards-order.
And that brings us to Ace's title:
If this theory is true, Heartslabyul is going to be one of the last, if not the very last dorm that we visit. And Ace's new title has been taken directly from the summon line of his dorm uniform: Trump Card of Hearts 👀
But, like most theories, this one is not air-tight!
If we are truly going backwards to pick up all the new cards, then where are Malleus' "Ruler of the Abyss" and Silver's "Knight of Dreams" cards? Aren't we already in Book 6? And if we're already going into Book 5 with Rook, have we already skipped Idia's card for "King of the Underworld"? Are they skipping overblotters for some reason and saving them for later? (Silver's missing card has an entirely separate theory of its own.)
I do not know! :> But I do very much like the theory that we have technically already completed Book 7 (Book 7) content, maybe even Book 7 (Book 6) content, next will be Book 7 (Book 5) content, etc., as the game progresses! ^^ Exciting!
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YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU
(part 0 here)
was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya
also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise
not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie
—
you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.
it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.
jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???
your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?
no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.
you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.
guess i’ll trust it then.
you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.
and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.
the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.
well, except you could still move around.
you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.
hold on, this is springvale? since when?
eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?
maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…
maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.
you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.
you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.
you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.
while you slumbered, people replied to your post.
╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too
╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf
╰┈➤ they're trolling
╰┈➤ o makes sense oops
╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh
╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl
you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.
actually, you'd find out now, apparently…
what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?
you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.
the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.
“since when was i outside...?"
a voice spoke to you, answering your question.
“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”
... huh? i recognize that voice...
—
p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (・_・;)
p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#sagau#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yippie#genshin self aware#genshin self aware au
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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis
✩ ✩ ✩
summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour
word count : 5.7k
part one here
a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx
masterlist <3333
-
✩ ✩ ✩
Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.
After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.
Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.
She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.
It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.
While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.
So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.
But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.
It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.
She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.
As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.
Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.
''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’
‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’
Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’
She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’
‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.
‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.
‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’
''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’
‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’
‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’
Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.
‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’
Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’
The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.
‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’
They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.
''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’
Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.
‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’
✩ ✩ ✩
A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.
After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.
Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.
It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.
Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.
Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.
As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.
The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.
Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.
Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.
It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.
Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.
She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.
She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.
Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.
As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.
Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.
She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.
✩ ✩ ✩
Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.
She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.
With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.
/
The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.
The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.
The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.
His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.
‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’
Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’
She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’
‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.
‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.
‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’
‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.
‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’
‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.
‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.
A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.
‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.
Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.
‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’
‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’
Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’
‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’
‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’
And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.
‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.
Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.
‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.
‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’
‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’
‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.
‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.
"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’
‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’
Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’
‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’
‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.
‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.
‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’
‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.
‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’
‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’
‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’
‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’
‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’
So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.
‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.
‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.
‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.
What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.
‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’
‘’Hmm maybe.’’
‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’
‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.
‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.
‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’
‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’
‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’
‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.
‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.
The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.
‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.
‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.
‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’
‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.
‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’
‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.
/
Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.
Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.
She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.
She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.
Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.
On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’
With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.
-
a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333
#w2s#wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#harry wroetoshaw#harry lewis#harry w2s#sidemen#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw imagine#wroetoshaw oneshot#hollytoshaw#chris md#arthurtv#sidemen x reader
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Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.
My Fandom Experience.
The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.
Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.
After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).
The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.
Fandom Etiquette.
If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.
Don't send hate anons to people
Block/unfollow people you don't like
If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it
Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided
Use AO3 filters
Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like
Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"
There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street
Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that
If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it
YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)
The Doxing Situation.
For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.
I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.
Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.
The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.
My Thoughts.
Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).
I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.
This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.
If you've read all of this, thank you.
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Recently I've gotten really into making visual novel type games using ren'py since I decided yes, I will make a mini video game for my animation final despite having no prior coding experience and it is much easier than it looks tbh
I've been working on a visual novel too!!!! I don't post as many updates on tumblr but I DO have an official twitter account for it and my ko-fi members get a bunch of perks like seeing all the sprites and CGs~! it's called crime city and you can romance 10 different criminals :3c
you can choose your own pronouns and date anyone you like as well!
I just started toying with the art school idea today while idly daydreaming about what kinds of visual novels I wish I could play
for anyone who's been second-guessing making their own dating sim or visual novel, it's actually much simpler than you think thanks to programs like ren'py! there are a bunch of tutorials online that made it absurdly easy to figure it out. I would say the most challenging parts of it (for me anyway) is drawing all the environments and backgrounds and writing a cohesive story with good routes!
#ask mhai#whenever there's a coding issue I can't figure out though#I just ask my boyfriend for help#because he's a software engineer LMAO
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Summoning Goten and Trunks fans
HI RIGHT so I'm trying to get ages and school years for Goten and Trunks and it's driving me bonkers (working out Blue Hal but birthdays will do), feel free to chip in and correct, I'll update the original post with strikethrough corrections if needs be.
ETA: would be too much to correct but @secretsofdbz has a really good breakdown of why we can consider Daizenshuu (and therefore most online timelines) as out in the reblogs. The post below attempts to square Daizenshuu by squinting but sounds like it's neater to just ignore it. It's too late for my fics I'm stuck with parkour, but maybe not for yours if you're particular!)
At the end of the day it doesn't matter but I like everything to line up as best as possible and headcanon what I can't.
They're born 767 and 766 respectively, Future Trunks is postulated as Nov 766 as he's stated he was born about six months before the androids arrive. We know Goten is born after late May 767's Cell games.
In the early May 774 tournament before Buu we know they give their ages as 7 and 8, but since that's impossible for Goten I like to think he rounded up and Trunks was born earlier than Future Trunks. Trunks could have also lied but we know the timestream changes and it's just funnier to me that a 6 year old would lie to be a cooler age, especially if his friend is 8.
Running with those constraints we're at:
Goten: May 767 - Dec 767
Trunks: Jan 766 - early May 766
I thinkkk Blue Hal takes place 3 months before Super Hero, which is when Pan is 3. She's born 779 (seeing references to May?) so Blue Hal at the latest is early 783 could be late 782? She's also supposed to have just started kindergarten in Blue Hal, but I don't have the Japanese scan to see if it's Japanese or American naming, and kids join nursery all the time so idk if there's strict timing help there. We also know Goten and Trunks are one school year apart.
So! Taking late 782 for arguments sake:
Trunks is 16 turning 17 sooner rather than later
Goten is 15, turning 16 later rather than sooner
In the Japanese system which runs April to April and three year high school, to keep them only a year apart Trunks needs to be born after April (so basically born in April 766), making him a first year high schooler (already turned 16), so Goten is a final year middle schooler (May 767 - Dec 767, has or will turn 15 in that apr 782-mar 783 school year).
BUT we know they go to the same school, and it's literally written as "high school" in the Japanese, and it's in West City, so they could be a freshman and sophomore.
Going further, if it's a Western High School the American system runs September to September, that means Trunks can be born Jan-early May 766 and Goten May 776-Aug 767 for the year gap, and in that case Goten is a sophomore and Trunks is a Junior, as they'll be turning 16 and 17 in their respective school year.
So I can get all my ducks in a neat little row with a very constrained pick of April 766 and July 767 for birthdays. I think?
WHEEZE
#goten#trunks#dbz#someone must have this knowledge in their heads#i also hc that Saiyan pregnancies grow fast last minute too so chichi can stay slim for Cell Games#I know some people use Goten as a premie instead
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AU INFO:
- This AU takes place current day, the digital circus game had been around for many, many years and ran fine, but at this point because of age/ technology and Caine lacking to update anything and himself, around the late 2000’s the game stopped updating and slowly became broken and miserable.
- There is no such thing as abstraction, instead the worst thing that could happen is a performer going insane. When that happens, the performers are left to deal with it because Caine no longer can, as his own AI is bugged and he can only do so much. Most of the time our performers are stuck playing the same games and hearing the same old junk until eventually the games themselves stop working.
- However Gangle found a still somehow functioning but cracked Ipod, and they discovered Tumblr and are able to run this blog. This is their only outlet to current reality.
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THE PERFORMERS:
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RULES/NOTES FOR THE ASK BLOG:
- Patience would be nice. If your ask hasn’t gotten a response in a bit, it’s either because I’m trying to come up with the answer, I’m in the process of drawing, or I’m busy with something else entirely. Remember I’m human, i got responsibilities elsewhere.
- Ask what you want, just please nothing sexually explicit.
- There are no specific ships tied to this AU, so I sort of leave it up to the asks if you want to form those.
- This blog is chill with dark/potential blood/violent stuff. This AU itself has some dark themes, so please keep that in mind.
- If a character isn’t available for asks at the moment, it’s likely they will be sooner or later. So don’t worry. This post will be updated when that happens.
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Now go ahead, you can ask em stuff. :D
Blog and AU by: @sk8erboixan
If you get the chance do check my main out, it’s pretty cool.
#the amazing digital circus#the digital circus#tadc pomni#tadc jax#tadc ragatha#tadc au#tadc#tadc caine#tadc kinger#tadc gangle#tadc zooble#info post#ask blog#artists on tumblr#digital art#digital drawing#digital fanart#artwork#art
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i didn't even post when this happened a few weeks ago bc i was honestly so frustrated and upset i shut down, but i lost all my ts4 saves. i mentioned a weird bug where my packs were installed but didn't show up in game-- sources point to origin/ea app switch mess-up (can't dwell on this or i will get furious). so i had to do a complete reinstall of the game-- not just through ea myself, using revo to get rid of all files related to the game. yes i made a backup, something got lost/failed and all my saves are gone. i wasn't really playing anymore, but... you know the stomach-dropping feeling when a save you've had for literally 8 years disappears. thank god my tray files survived or idek what i would've done.
i'm bringing this up bc i was working on vivienne's pinterest board and i honestly miss her so much... i don't need to explain, simblrinas understand how demotivating it is to lose a save :'( it's been a while but i always hoped to revisit some of my gameplays at least to post little updates, i mean i never even showed arabella being born or the magazine spread i made when viv & mckenna moved to sulani. but now looking back at the screenshots i have of their gp has a totally different feeling :(
just wanted to vent about that, but on the bright side i'm excited to render with vivienne! hopefully a lookbook is incoming 👀
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Winter's King 12
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a good weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.
“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.
“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.
“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.
He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.
“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”
You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.
You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.
You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.
You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?
You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.
You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.
You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.
You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.
Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.
You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.
“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”
“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”
You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”
“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”
“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”
“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”
“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”
Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”
“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”
The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.
You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.
“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”
“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”
“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.
You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”
“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”
“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”
You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.
As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.
“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”
“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”
“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”
You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”
“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”
Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?
“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”
“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”
“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”
“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”
Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.
“I would not,” you repeat.
He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”
“Sir Bryce--”
“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”
You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”
He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!
And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.
⚔️
You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.
“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”
You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.
“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”
You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.
“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”
She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”
You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.
“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”
She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”
You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.
“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”
You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.
“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”
You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.
“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”
She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.
“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”
You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.
“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#the witcher#series#au#medieval au#winter's king
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a tiny little update
hey gang!
how's it going? hope you're all well and being kind to yourselves <3
life is mad at the minute - working full time and studying on top is intense, and lately i've found myself staying up until the wee hours to get things done. it's only temporary (i have less than 2 months until i qualify as a teacher!) but i've been so drained and anxious and generally not in the best of places. training has, far and away, been the hardest thing i've ever done.
it's been hard to log on here and not doom scroll and feel the imposter syndrome i have irl seep into this space, too. it's even harder to come across so many great fics and not feel like i have the time or capacity to give them the love and praise they deserve. we're fortunate to be part of such an amazing community of creatives in this fandom, and i'm especially in awe of the fact i get to call so many of them mutuals and friends.
so, i don't really know what this is. i guess i feel like i've been letting people down with my lack of responses to reblogs, tag games, fics and the like. i'm so genuinely touched every time someone reaches out or thinks of me, and i'd hate to think the opposite might be coming across. it's just been a really tough couple of months. if this has been you, especially over the last few weeks, just know that i see you, i love you, and i appreciate you so much.
i've tried to get my shit kind of together this weekend, especially in the way of reblogs. i have a bunch of fic recs queued and a couple of masterlists i read when i was a lurker (for shame) that i'll get round to reblogging properly at some point.
if you see this and i've 'liked' something of yours recently, please know it's on my tbr list. promise i'm not trying to drive-by love you. i'll get to it eventually <3
for future times, i'm (very slowly) working on a sweet, soft something for frankie, and then hopefully a cool series with joel. in the meantime, i'll be trying to keep my head above water.
love and endless cuddles,
em xxxx
#personal#<3#sorry to get in my feels on main lol#i'll probs delete this cos i'm already reading it back like 'ew'#but just in case#ily <3
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I’ve been so turned off by what fusebox has been putting out lately that I haven’t even opened the app in a year or so, but I’m glad that people seem to be liking s8 so far!
I’m super curious to know how you would rank it against past seasons and what your thoughts are overall ❤️
RANK? YOU WANT ME TO RANK THEM
hjeslafhajsdkfgsdj
omg okay. way to make my night. I'm supposed to be writing. Let's fucking gooooooo.
[Noting based on my recent post, this is my ranking for if you're pursuing a male LI. WLW rankings would be very different].
So, to me, I think there are two main criteria that define a season: Love Interests and Gameplay.
Love Interests can be further broken down into:
Sprite Design: How good they look overall as a cast. Are they proportionate? Unique?
Variety: How different/unique are they to previous seasons? Are they all models and carpenters and finance bros?
Fandom Impact: This one is silly and subjective. Are people still talking about them years later? Do they have fanfics and art? If you don't know this person, are you missing out?
Gameplay can be further broken down into:
Quality of Plot Drama: How it's written, how impactful it is. Is it stupid manufactured shit, or is it important and moves the game along? (Cherrygate? Great drama. Suresh wanting to 'give Lulu a chance' after he'd been all in for us? Shitty, awful drama).
Challenges: Are they engaging and interesting? Do they move the plot along?
Replayability: Are there enough unique aspects in the routes that you feel the need to replay?
So, based on these two criteria, I assigned rankings to each season, with Season 2 being the best that fusebox can possibly do. (We already know that it is).
These are completely subjective, but this is what I came up with.
Some brief explanations:
Season 1:
Not the best art style, but overall the proportions were spot on, the body shapes and types were different and unique. Personalities top tier (Tim? Jake? sigh.) Cherrygate, dunking challenge etc.
Season 2:
The best the fandom can do in terms of consistent art style, poses, challenges and replayability. Every route is unique. Characters are overhwhelmingly gorgeous. Some may not like the drama, but I think it's just enough.
Season 3:
I thought things were ranked too high but then remember Tai? Rafi? AJ? The waterfall date, the water balloon and tent challenges that meant something and caused drama?
Season 4:
Lost points for the NaJamUno character merge, but gained points for Youcef and Oliver. Great characters, poor challenges and drama points. Dylangate was dumb and so was making us sleep on the daybeds.
Season 5:
The less said the better. But the sprites were hot af.
Season 6:
The great character merge was atrocious. But the drama from Casa, the Marshall&Ozzy plotline, and HAMISH oh my god, he gets a bonus point for drama all on his own.
Season 7:
Personally very forgettable season. Some of the sprites were lovely. Evan was a highlight and he's gorgeous. But given how quickly everyone forgot about this season, it's loowww.
Season 8:
Gets a high ranking for fandom impact purely based on the immense amount of art and interest that's come about this season. Even with up to a half-point deduction to account for recency bias, this season ranks highly.
This gives us an updated ranking of:
Third? THIRD? Season 8 is THIRD?!?!?
This gives us an average season rating of 6.4. We could remove the outliers, but we're trying to plot how good each season is against the average, so let's not. If we then plotted this and threw in a bar to show the average:
It says the only seasons that are 'above average' are Seasons 1, 2, and 8. Which, honestly, given my adoration for Bruno, Ciaran, and Lewie, rude. How dare I hurt myself with my own chart!!!!!
I'm sure one of the maths people could do something statistically significant and make this fully mathematically valid, but this is just me latching on to a silly ask and being an idiot about it.
I like S8 a lot. It's worth playing.
In other words:
Yes. Play it.
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blog basics
this is a safe for work ask/roleplay blog for the character shane from stardew valley
takes place in the same universe as the game
in-game calendar & timeline is NOT strictly followed
headcanons are involved, expect slight deviations to the canon alongside personal interpretations
asks are processed via inbox only
whether the ask box is open or closed can be seen in the blog bio
blog bio is regularly updated to reflect this
if you comment under the posts, shane may reply!
special limited time ‘events' are sometimes done here
i reserve the right to deny (not answer, delete, or block) asks from anyone for any reason
guidelines & to-know
avoid sending specific questions about IRL people, media, music, or events.
(while i will sometimes answer them, there are a couple big problems i face. namely, that it is hard for me as one person to know/research all the media that is sent in)
for safety reasons, i will not be answering asks with links in them.
the conversations between you and shane are exclusive to you and him, and aren’t necessarily involved with other people's plans.
(for example: he can go to the flower dance with several different people, because you all exist in different timelines. so he can be in multiple places at once ;D)
it is easier to answer shorter straightforward asks than longer ones, so i may answer those first
some canon festivals are celebrated here and some are not. it depends on what i have the time for/remember lol
make my job easier and refrain from breaking the fourth wall... it gets so awkward sometimes 😭
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Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙
Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]
"How are things going so far?":
It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.
I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other.
In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :]
I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.
"Playtester's advice":
I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.
To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]
I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done.
Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :]
Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]
"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":
As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.
I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]
My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!
Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.
If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!
This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]
#te updates#male yandere#visual novel#dating sim#yandere#illustration#digital art#murder sim#game development#horror game#art#artwork#artists on tumblr#indie game#otome#drawing#romance#anime drawing#anime art#vndev
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On power creep, card games (mostly as an example) and gacha. Also how to prioritize what characters/cards to try and get. Kinda felt the discussion around power creep in the context of gacha is often kind of... incendiary and not very helpful, we are all here to have a good time.
So, this was mostly some stuff I have been thinking about in relation to Arknights, because I do not play Star Rail as seriously and play no other gachas then those two. I have played the yu-gi-oh card game since I was a little kid (some of my earliest memories is learning the game from my brothers or playing Kaiba the revenge on PC) so I am coming at this from a primarily TCG perspective and with the prior background of "has played game which has been made unrecognizable by power creep, and still loved playing it."
So obviously, this already predisposes me to not see power creep as the biggest deal.
So... first of all, the incentives that causes power creep!
Well this is pretty straightforward, the way a trading card game or a gacha makes money is by making you want to spend money on new cards/characters. You also need to have a solid team or deck as a whole, usually you cannot just brute force your way on a single powerful card or character. As a result to prevent players from just getting one strong team/deck and then never updating again is why we end up with power creep, since the option of just outright banning cards tends to piss people off even more and is straight up not a thing they do in gacha games.
As a result, since players will usually not want to spend money/pulls on a character who will not improve their team/deck, especially when its so often chance based what you even get, it means that to make people keep pulling packs you gotta upgrade the power over time of new units.
Generally the developers want to keep this at a slower pace, since it feels bad if someone gets a great character/card and then one month later they are weak, and if people feel like what they put in do not pay off they will not keep playing. But occasionally there are bigger bursts of power creep to kind of bring the state of the game to a new level, often brought on by accidentally making something too strong, at least that is how I think this goes from my experience.
But for example, if when Typhon came out her damage was worse or just on par with Rosa, how many would have pulled for her? Sure you´d get some who would because they like her story, personality, design, etc. But not that many would have if we are being completely honest here.
This is not to say that power creep cannot be a problem, especially if too severe, as already touched on earlier it feels really bad when your favorites no longer hold up. I just want to highlight that it is an inherent part of the game that cannot really be avoided.
It can also add a big pressure to feel like you have to keep up by getting all the new characters or cards, which can cause a lot of stress due to the random nature of who you get. Which is where the other thing I wanted to talk about comes in....
You do not need every strong or limited character. And in fact you wont use most of them because you have finite team space.
In a trading card game you focus in on a playstyle you like, or a few if its affordable enough, and then focus on building and enhancing those instead of getting every good card in the game. I think this is the healthiest way to view it in a gacha too.
Prioritize who suits your playstyle and your team, or to fill weak spots you got (or you just like as a character of course). You do not need all the top tier characters in the game. You can skip multiple top tier characters in fact and still do just fine, these games are not balanced around the assumption you have *every* single one of the best characters or cards.
And in fact, having to slowly make adjustments to better suit your needs is, to me at least, one of the most fun parts. And a lot of the strategy and fun of these kinds of games disappear if you have access to all the strongest options and can just brute force things.
It is not healthy for your mental state to fret over having to have all the best options and it makes the game less fun, to me at least. These games assume you only have maybe half of the top tier options, and you can beat pretty much everything with that if you put some effort into strategizing, which is fun~!
#arknights#i think tagging it as arknights is appropriate here at least?#my “gambling preys on people in bad ways” vs how the limitations caused by the randomness adds a fun level of strategy for me opinions clas
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