#I never do traditional art like this anymore…. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blasphemousclaw · 3 months ago

Text

ok I keep seeing takes that shadow of the erdtree fumbled the hornsent because they made them too unlikeable and unsympathetic and enabled all those “total hornsent death” weirdos but I wholeheartedly believe that the writers have been portraying the hornsent sympathetically from the very beginning. like just because the story spends time on the darker aspects of hornsent society doesn’t mean that it’s arguing that Marika and Messmer were in the right? in fact I think it’s pretty obviously arguing the opposite?

some of the first sights you’ll see in the Shadow Lands are the scorched ruins, which are surrounded by hornsent grave markers — wooden stakes each with a horn affixed to it, horns being seen as sacred objects in hornsent society. the victims’ shades (by the look of them, ordinary people; farmers, merchants, and laborers) can be found wandering around the Shadow Lands and are often non-hostile; they can be found kneeling, weeping, stacking small stones, or clasping their hands in silent prayer.

there’s a courtyard in Belurat completely filled with hornsent graves, and it’s also the place where Queelign invades you… the sheer number of graves here is horribly sad, and the fact that Queelign attacks here even after all those people were killed honestly makes him seem like an absolute monster

just look at this menace. knocking over the graves of the people he murdered. shame on you Queelign

further into Belurat there’s a very small, missable room where you can pick up the Dried Bouquet talisman:

“A quaint bouquet of dried flowers, offered to a small grave. Raises attack power when a spirit you have summoned dies. The sorrow that flows from the untimely demise of a loved one is a tenderness shared by all, regardless of birthplace.”

this description is pretty directly saying like, “hey, these people are human beings just like you who grieved the loved ones they lost, who couldn’t sympathize with that?”

my personal favorite examples here are the scorpion stews, which are given to you by Hornsent Grandam after defeating Divine Beast and wearing its head:

Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. Traditional meal of the hornsent. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores HP. Once made with love by a certain elderly woman for the family table. Having long gone cold, this soup gives off a rank, sour smell.”

Gourmet Scorpion Stew: “Scorpion simmered in a black soup. An exquisite dish chock-full of mouth-watering scorpion claws. Boosts physical damage negation temporarily and gradually restores a great amount of HP. The thoughts and feelings of the cook melt and blend into the stew, but those who can distinguish the taste of love are few and far between. "Partake, partake, until thou art sated.””

how can you claim that the hornsent are dehumanized when grandma literally cooks you a traditional hornsent meal made with love!!! how heartbreakingly sweet is that!!! especially with the dialogue you get from Hornsent if you share the stew with him:

“What’s this? Do you think me in need of alms? Ah… but this dish. Tis fare o’ the tower. I remember fondly this kin-clad scent. …Brings back memories I’d all but forgot. This, by my troth, is but a dismal copy. Indeed, I think it rather plain to see… things once broken can never be the same.”

we’re presented with the image of a delicious traditional meal that hornsent families used to cook and eat together, and then we remember, Hornsent Grandam is all alone, she has no one but us to cook stew for, and Hornsent has no family anymore to share his stew with.

before wrapping this up I want to mention Leda’s dialogue about the hornsent because I think it describes the situation pretty well (surprisingly well maybe, given what she’s like):

“Long ago, Queen Marika commanded Sir Messmer to purge the tower folk. A cleansing by fire. It’s no wonder the hornsent holds the Erdtree in contempt. That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. And in this regard, the tower folk are no different. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. But it’s still a wretched shame.”

the hornsent were not a perfect society. far from it. but no society is perfect, and the hornsent need not have all been saints for what happened to them to have been wrong. no person has the right to act as judge, jury, and executioner for an entire civilization of human beings. if people want to take the very worst of hornsent society as representative of their entire population and argue that every single one of them deserved to die then I’m afraid that’s their problem, because the game absolutely does not agree with them

#elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #hornsent #hornsent grandam #needed to get this out of my system bc ive seen so many inaccurate and bad-faith claims about the dlc that im losing faith in humanity

556 notes · View notes

yan-lorkai · 5 months ago

Note

Hi!! I loved your hcs of the Octotrio with a yuu that seems to only have a talent in art. I related to it a lot because sometimes I feel like I’m not good at anything else other than drawing.

I was wondering if you could do the same prompt with Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Malleus & the Scarabia boys please? If that’s too many you can just do Leona, Malleus, & Scarabia. Thank you 😊

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I guess everyone has one of those episodes, huh? I've been writing for more than 8 years now and sometimes I get hit by the "aa but I'm only good at writing, I should totally try something" and then I try something new and hate it bcs I really love to write and nothing can compare lmao. Anyway, I hope you like this darling, I did all the characters requested too btw ~

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ace would be playful and encouraging, but his competitive nature would lead him to manipulate situations to keep you close. He’d play little tricks to make sure you stay dependent on him, offering "helpful" critiques that subtly undermine your confidence in anything but your art. His lighthearted facade would hide a deeper need to be the center of your attention, he is your muse, the one you use to practice, the who inspires you, making sure that you see him as the only one who truly understands and supports you, all while ensuring you don't realize how he’s subtly sabotaging any other talents you might want to try to explore, for he fears you will not want to spend more time with him anymore if that was the case.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Cater would use his social media prowess to make you art the talk of the school, ensuring your work — and by extension, his support — is always in the spotlight. However, his validation would come with a price, as he subtly isolates you from others, creating an environment where you feel your art is only appreciated by him and his curated audience. Cater’s charming persona would hide his darker intentions, as he manipulates your into believing that your worth is tied to the art you create under his influence, all while keeping you emotionally dependent on his constant praise. You're already good at other things, so surely you don't need to have another hobby, right?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Deuce, unlike Ace, would be fiercely protective of your artistic talent. He’d encourage your art with an almost desperate intensity, pushing you to try different brushes and pens, different scenarios and things, but he'd also pressure you to stay focused on what your good at, ensuring you don’t waste time on things you never tried before. His possessiveness would manifest in his need to be your protector, to the point where he'd become intimidating towards anyone who tries to steer you away from your art, that does not apply to yourself, while he think your drawings / paintings are very beautiful, he would not force you to make it more if you're having an episode where you doubt your skills and think you are good only on the art field. If you want to explore new things, Deuce will be by your side the entire time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Riddle would be intensely supportive yet controlling, pushing you to perfect your craft while ensuring you don't stray too far from his strict rules, even more if you are already his lover. His obsession with your success would become borderline suffocating, as he constantly monitors your progress and enforces discipline to keep you on the right path, nurturing your already beautiful talent. To Riddle, your art is flawless, it's personal and have a touch of you in every drawing, be it digital or traditional. When you come to tell him about your doubts, about how you're only good at art, Riddle promptly sooth you with gentle words, albeit he is a little awkward while talking. He offer to teach you about whatever you want to learn but be prepared because he is somewhat a strict teacher.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Leona would admire your dedication to your art, and he would ask questions about it too, learning as much as your interest as possible. However, his possessiveness would be almost primal, keeping you close under the guise of protection, ensuring you don’t waste time on anything — or anyone — else. Leona would be dismissive of your attempts to explore other talents, reinforcing that your art is the only thing that matters. His control would be subtle yet overpowering, as he ensures your world revolves around him and your art, leaving you with little room for anything else.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Malleus would shower you with endless admiration, captivated by your artistic talent, even more if you were influenced by an artistic movement. He'll notice all the little details, the subtle way the traces converge, how the color scheme is perfect, the way the shadows and the light reflect. He is your number 1 fan, so supportive of you. However, his intense fascination would drag you into his lonely world, where your art becomes your only outlet and he is your audience - though he has your drawings framed and hung on the walls of the castles, so everyone can look at it and admire. Malleus may not understand your struggles and why would you want to pursue another hobby, but he can arrange anything you may want to try at least once, from singing and dancing to sewing and knitting, even the art of potion making, archery or fencing. He just know you're going to find something you like as much as your art, and if you are happy so is he.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jamil would secretly nurture your talent, subtly guiding your creativity while undermining any attempts you make to excel elsewhere, he sees your art as something free and with many meanings - it makes him relaxed in some sort of way and Jamil wants to be a little greedy here, he wants you to continue creating more pieces, always keeping you under his watchful eye as you started drawing / painting. There's just something so intimate, so calming about it he can't wrap his head around. He loves watching you creating your art, feeling is guard lowering just a little. If you ever approach him with your doubts, Jamil take you to the kitchen so he can teach you a few things about cooking. It's a different kind of art but when all is said and done, it's just as good as when you're creating and make you feeling accomplished.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Kalim would be so overwhelmingly supportive and enthusiastic about it, showering you with gifts and opportunities to nurture your artistic talent, buying everything you may need to create your art, a new software? Sure, no problem, he brought the most expensive one too. A few new pencils and pens? Right away. You need more frames and paints? It will be here in a couple of hours. However, his naivety mixed with possessiveness would lead to unintentional control over your life, as he tries to keep you happy and close by his side. Kalim’s well-meaning gestures would create a gilded cage, where your art flourishes but your freedom is slowly stripped away. He would be oblivious to the suffocating effect of his love, believing that as long as you're happy creating art with him, nothing else matters, leaving you feeling trapped and not knowing how to communicate with him. He have done so much for you already!

284 notes · View notes

tofupixel · 3 months ago

Note

I feel like this is the worst time to start doing art because every where corporate greed takes over and they push out some thing that either hinder or harm artist in many ways.I'm not sure of me doing art anymore, this feel imposible to grow on social media without getting F by some dude with a lot of money. Maybe art is not a good fit for me rn. Sorry if it not a question

maybe, i mean for me it makes no difference if a website becomes too shit, i will just stop using it. i will still keep doing art and hopefully continue to find work.

things are feeling increasingly hostile for digital artists but people who are younger than me may not realise how bad it used to be. before the internet we had to go to school and go work in a studio, do traditional and hope you get into galleries, or nothing. which a lot of the time was really hard for working class people to enter

my parents basically told me dont do art you will never make it and you will never make money (which isnt true in the modern day)

its more accessible than ever but that also means its more competitive. if u want to do art like i do then nothing should stop you!

i also think all this shit is temporary, like i do believe there will be some restrictions on generative AI (the law is always slow on tech) and i also believe these shit websites will eventually push too many people away and will have to do some things right to get userbase back

thats what i think anyway. a lot of people who do art have been doing it despite everyone telling us not to, and its always been an uphill battle, so just another barrier doesnt change anything to me. artists are strong 💪

#qna

171 notes · View notes

peppermint-toads · 2 years ago

Text

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?

𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby

“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.

Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.

As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.

Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.

You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.

He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.

“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”

“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.

You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.

Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.

He laughed a little as he exhaled.

“Not quite.”

His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.

“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.

“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”

He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.

“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”

He scoffed.

You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.

It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.

You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.

“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.

“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”

You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”

Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”

After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.

“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.

As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.

“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”

You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—

“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”

You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.

The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.

His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.

Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.

The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.

He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.

Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—

His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.

Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.

You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.

Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.

The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.

When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.

“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.

“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.

Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”

As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.

The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.

“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.

Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.

“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”

“We were what? 15?”

“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”

“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”

“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”

Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.

Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.

“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”

“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.

Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.

He nodded.

“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”

“What about Wayne?”

You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.

Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”

You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”

“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”

“You going all soft on me, Munson?”

“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”

“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut

1K notes · View notes

maxwellatoms · 8 months ago

Text

I bought a Gartenmeister Fuchsia plant for my birthday back in January. It was a centerpiece all winter long, but recently it started looking a bit sickly. I'm not a "green" gerdener anymore (haha), but I am also by no means a master. I think it was infected with powdery mildew, but I also convinced myself it was spider mites. I try to keep things all -natural out there, so I dried it out and sprayed it with some neem oil after pruning it back a bit. I really should've pruned off all of the infected bits, but I didn't want to lose the flowers.

I did that a few more times, unable to commit to a hard prune because I kept telling myself "I don't know what I'm doing, so maybe it's not sick. Maybe it'll fix itself. Sure would be nice to have those flowers back." I finally gave up and cut it to the bone yesterday, but yesterday was too late. I had to remove every single leaf because I dithered for too long. It's probably not going to make it.

I feel the same way about our culture. US culture. Western culture (though its really a global problem). The Entertainment Industry. The Media. It's sick. We probably need some rather serious surgery to fix the problem, but we just will not see a doctor. To see a doctor would be to admit there's a problem, and for some that is the greatest sin of the 21st Century. Maybe some of us are just hoping the system will recover on its own so we can have our pretty flowers back.

For me, it was around 2010 or so when I first started to smell something "off". The symptoms had certainly been around a while. This was just when I noticed. This was when I got my first, "Hey, let's not make fun of corporations" note. It's when The History Channel stopped airing stuff about history in favor of aliens because that's where the money was. And rather than rebranding, they just left it as "History", encouraging future generations to believe whatever they felt like. This was also about when traditional news outlets started skewing to clickbait in order to compete with sites that were clearly 100% not legitimate news sites. Again, as long as the money is right it's "just entertainment" and you' can're welcome to believe it if it means you'll watch more.

I'm all-in on Dead Internet Theory now. The disparity between what major news media outlets will report and what you see from actual people on Tumblr or Threads or Reddit is pretty shocking. And those sites are already compromised by bots and bad actors. The tools exist now to actively bamboozle millions of people, and I have no doubt we're already seeing some of this now. In six months or a year you'll find out it (whatever it was) never happened or was generated by an LLM. The time to stop listening to anyone online was a year ago.

Trust no one.

Not even me!

It's cultural rot. It's spreading faster and faster, and I'm not sure what happens when we get to the end of this ride. Actually, I AM sure what happens. If we don't prune back hard now, then the rot takes over. Best-case, you clip the infected branches off too late and it takes years to recover. Worst case? Nature soldiers on but the plant succumbs to infection and dies completely, replaced (eventually) by something that can actually hack it in that spot.

When humans produce art and information, and then comment on that art and information by producing more art and information, we call it "culture". We're moving toward a time when the vast majority of art and ideas we get out eyes on won't be created by humans. Or at the very least won't be created with the purpose of commenting on or enriching the organic human experience. When that happens, what will we call it? What will remain of our culture?

#maxwell atoms #entertainment industry #media #rot #grim reaper

214 notes · View notes

kaija-rayne-author · 1 month ago

Text

Dragon Age, as a series, deserved so much better than Veilguard.

Spoilers for Veilguard and maybe other DA stuff.

Obligatory 'I'm not an asshole' disclaimer. Feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I was on media blackout while I played DAV. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Note. None of my writing on DA, but especially DAV, is edited. This is just my off the cuff writing. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

The Solavellan romance deserved a much better end than 'die and go to fade prison'. I agree that Inky would likely be happy to leave. She's as traumatized as Solas for having to lead when she didn't want to. But I needed more than a craptastic Romeo and Juliet ending.

I refuse to do the heavy lifting for the writers. If it wasn't shown in the game or in supplementary materials, it didn't happen. Showing us the story was the writers' and devs job, not mine.

I mourn what will never be, even as I work on a Solavellan fix it fic.

How could they betray the IP so badly?

How could they betray their fanbase so badly? The fanbase that kept hope for that game alive for 10 years. I've seen so many people saying they've lost their interest or passion for the entirety of Dragon age. That they're not even remotely interested in another game because absolutely none of the choices we made in previous games matters anymore. They've wiped everything clean... or blighted it anyway. (I have absolutely no interest in another DA game. Not with Epler/Busche/Weekes involved. And whoever designed that ridiculous fighting system.)

The only way I could possibly be interested in another game would be if they loudly decanonized DAV, gave us a DLC (they've already confirmed there will be no DLC) that showed us Solas and Inky happy and not in a horrible place. One that showed us that somehow, something changed for the elves.

But that's so unlikely it's laughable.

The elves deserved a better ending. Are the survivors still enslaved or living in alienages? What actually changed for the elves except the largest portion of the Dalish being dead from blight? (That’s a real elvish win, isn't it?)

I'm a stubborn person. I refuse to let Epler's 'hate-revenge on Solas fan fic' ruin something I've loved for years. I still have the first 3 games. I'll make an actual happy ending and a decent romance for Rook in my fic.

And by the fact they paid a fortune to big gaming magazines while denying game keys to bigger honest reviewers... they knew.

They knew gamers wouldn't like it and tried to blow so much smoke up our asses with the interviews and AMAs.

How do they even sleep at night?

I'm a creative too, I write, do graphic design, digital (learning) and traditional (good) art.

My stories are important to me. They deserve not only an ending, but an ending that respects the characters, lore, and world that I've created.

My readers deserve that, too.

I, as the creator of my stories, deserve a decent, respectful ending.

Dragon age deserved it, too. A good, well thought out, and well written ending to the story of the Dreadwolf storyline, which, if you're paying attention, is intertwined through all 3 games. It's not just in Inquisition. One that made sense to the collected Lore, his struggles and mistakes, his literary role as an anti-hero.

I would never be able to do what they've done to a beloved series. I could never knowingly mislead fans like they did.

It's just a really painful reminder that beloved stories can be utterly destroyed in the wrong hands. And a reminder that there's so much talent and skill in Fan fic.

Busche worked on the Sims. No wonder the companions often feel as interesting as wet cardboard. Most Sims NPCs do, too. (I actually enjoy the Sims, but the NPCs aren't why I like it.)

And she had the gall to blame 'culture wars' and 'identity politics' for why the game is tanking. Rather than take ownership of the incredibly bad calls made for DAV.

It's just gross. I wish I could stop thinking about it. But Dragon Age got me through some tough times. It means a lot to me.

And it just deserved better. So did we.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #veilguard #da veilguard #dragonage #solas #solavellan #bioware critical #Veilguard Critical #Veilguard Spoilers #DAtV critical #DAtV spoilers #DAV critical #DAV spoilers

80 notes · View notes

mtkay13 · 1 year ago

Text

The one and only Qi Ye trio!

Details on the painting, meta and more below!

So this piece is actually a "remake" of a much older drawing that I made right after I had finished reading Qi Ye:

First, I want to elaborate on the drawing itself. I usually don't like to detail the symbolism and ideas that I put in my art, simply because I don't want to impose a reading and I'd rather everyone gets their own; but following some discussions I have decided to do so for this one.

The main theme of this illustration is glory, power, and the ascention towards it. The principal symbol of it is, of course, the stairs going up. I used light, directly, colours and positioning to signify each character's relationship to those themes.

Helian Yi is the one in the light, ascending upwards, in red clothing. Helian Yi's power, as future emperor, is in the light, visible, going towards the heavens as the son of heaven himself--to enact his heavenly duty. Part of his face is in the shadows, and his being casts a broad shadow behind him for, of course, a lot has to happen in the shadows for him to reach the throne. He's looking behind as his ascension comes with dread and paranoia, never being able to fully trust anyone.

Zhou Zishu is entirely in the shadows, doesn't exist in the light. He's standing tall on the stairs but not facing upwards because his own way towards power isn't following the traditional path of having one's name being remembered in historical records. He is at his most powerful concealed in the shadows and doesn't look directly, his gaze unreadable.

Jing Beiyuan is sitting on the stairs, uninterested with the climb towards power itself, uninterested in the glory. The thin line of light on his figure means that among Helian Yi's closest allies, he's the one using his title and influence; light grazes him even if he doesn't want it to. His presence in Helian Yi's shadow signifies how he, along with Zishu, is quite literally behind HLY's ascension. His gaze is knowingly directed towards the watcher.

The main reason I decided to repaint it was because I wanted it to match my current style and, more importantly, my current mental image/character design for them. Jing Qi barely changed since my idea of him was fairly clear from the start, but Helian Yi and Zishu went through much bigger changes.

For Helian Yi, it was mainly a question from taking him out of Jin Wang's robes to get him his own. I really like Jin Wang's wardrobe in SHL, which is why I initially wanted it for HLY, but nowadays it simply doesn't correspond to how I picture him anymore. My understanding and/or envisioning of Da Qing's fashion has changed a bit as well, so I wanted to reflect that. In the original, he more seemed like a kid in vaguely chique robes that were too big for him LOL. His face was afforded a bit of refinement as well, especially since my big Qi Ye spread.

Jing Qi's robes are just a tad less flashy somehow--which wasn't so much planned as just... another design I had in mind. I still really like the first version of the robes but, oh well. His face is a bit more defined now, and overall more details in the quality of his clothing and in his hair piece.

Zhou Zishu...... well, haha. His original design was quite unpolished--a vague mix of SHL!Zishu and some random hakama I barely worked on. He was also very slim and had big eyes, which I just don't see anymore. He's bigger now, by quite a bit, both in height and musculature, and I made him look just a bit older as well--simply because he is older than HLY and JBY by a few years. I much prefer his current expression which is a tad more vicious but also a bit harder to read (I think). His robes, hair shape are much better defined and thought-out, and I am happy with the subtle shading on his face.

That's it!! Thanks for readiinngggg as always!

#qi ye meta #qi ye #helian yi #jing beiyuan #zhou zishu

406 notes · View notes

namism · 17 days ago

Note

🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷

little things | koby

➳ categories: college au, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 3k

➳ summary: It's no surprise when your friends' significant others swing by to drop off snacks and drinks for sustenance as you pull a much needed all-nighter for finals, but while everyone else is being looked after, who's looking after you? Enter Koby, the guy you never expected to care for you.

➳ notes: thanks for the request @mibso! ur like the best koby fan i know 🗣️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"I... I think I'm gonna be sick."

Usopp tells you that he's on his third Red Bull as a dumb excuse for taking an unhealthy dosage of caffeine in a span of 18 hours because Nami has taken over four energy shots to power through the rest of her materials. She did it for the sake of passing Physics 189, an elective class on atmospheric physics that she stresses on too much because her love for it exceeds the exosphere, but she's starting to tweak (in Gen Z terms) because she has no fucking clue what's going on anymore.

Her head falls on the table of your study room—rightfully booked, not stolen, because your friend group is deferential compared to those study room squatters who don't even do any studying—and immediately, you and Usopp turn toward her in concern, the bags under her eyes being telltale signs of her surrender. It isn't Nami to give up on Physics 189 because she loves it more than anything, probably more than the weatherman in your local news, but in her defense, she hasn't slept in 31—going on 32—hours, and her body is giving into exhaustion despite the energy shots.

You stand from your seat across from her, reaching forward to gently shake her awake, but Nami is down like a snoozing puppy. Usopp groans when he realizes that he's going to need to carry her back to the girls' dormitories, while you thank your beliefs silently that she has finished enough of her materials to pass the exam she has to take the following morning.

"Sucks to be a physics major," Usopp mutters to himself as he pats Nami's head one last time before going back to his devices. He says that pitifully as if he isn't pitiful himself this finals week; he's a fine arts major because he likes being creative, likes putting things together, whether it be digital or traditional works of art, and if that isn't tiring enough, he also minors in engineering for fun (but maybe it isn't so bad because he has actual written exams he can study for instead of submitting a subjectively okay-tasting spaghetti due at 11:59 PM—only Sanji has to worry about that kind of shit in your circle).

Nevertheless, the grind never stops. You train your eyes back to your laptop, regaining your focus as you continue the assignment you've been working on the past hour. Once done, you hurry to the comfort room to take a quick break and arrive back at the study room to continue working.

By the time you arrive, however, more people have entered the small space, visitors from the neighboring rooms on the upper level. It turns out that they've come to visit your friends.

"Oh my god, um, is she okay?" Nami's girlfriend Vivi tries to shake her awake, causing Usopp to tell her softly that he tried to wake her earlier but to no avail. Distressed, Vivi puts down the small container she was holding and embraces Nami from behind, tilting her head toward her girlfriend's sleeping face and trying to talk her into waking up.

Usopp's girlfriend, Kaya, is the next to make her presence known by skipping over to the man, patting his head, and offering a bag of goodies and a PET bottle of lemon iced tea she got from the vending machine a few floors down. She smiles at you, and you reciprocate, not until the doors open to yet another sickly cute couple that makes you want to depressingly barf.

Sabo and Koala appear at the entrance of the study room with Sabo holding the door open for his girlfriend to come inside. She tells the two girls that study break is over, which promptly gets them moving. Vivi tells everyone that she has to bring Nami home, or else she's waking up to a grumpy girlfriend tomorrow morning, while Kaya obediently lets go of Usopp and helps him pack his things. As Sabo and Koala disappear, Usopp shyly apologizes.

"Why apologize?" you ask with a shrug.

"Because!" He gestures to the once-messy table where you, he, and Nami spent the past 15 hours studying. Now that Nami is being carried back to the dorms and he's leaving with Kaya, you'll be left alone with no one to look after you.

You shake your head. "I appreciate the concern, but everyone has to fend for themselves this season. You know the joke, 'Is it finals week or is it my final week?'" The couple bursts out laughing. "So really, you shouldn't be worried about leaving me here. I've survived the past few years in college, so this is easy shit!"

"Well, if you say so," Usopp says with a doubtful tone, but he takes it back because he's just playing with you. When he gets his things packed neatly inside his bag, he helps you and Kaya transfer a snoozing Nami on Vivi's back for a shameless piggyback ride to the dorms.

Once all is settled, your friends shuffle out of the study room, and the place is finally quiet.

Lonely and quiet.

Loneliness creeps up your shoulder as you lean back on the armchair with a sigh. Your chest feels empty, and it becomes more evident the longer you sit in quiet without the sound of Usopp's confused whispers or Nami's silent cusses. You're just alone, without your friends or any lover to bring you food to cheer you on. While everybody else is being looked after, no one is looking after you, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said that it didn't upset you.

There's always that unwanted feeling of jealousy that boils in your stomach whenever your friends and their lovers appear in front of you. They act so sweetly cute toward each other that it makes you yearn for a love as real as theirs, and now that finals season is rolling in, you need someone else's company more than ever. Kind of like aftercare, since college is kicking your ass and beating you into a pulp, so it makes sense to seek comfort. Unfortunately, you aren't graced even with the smallest bit of romantic interaction, so you just sit alone, sad, single, and most importantly, jealous.

As you wallow in silence, your stomach growls, and you realize that you haven't eaten or drunk in a while. You think back to the food Vivi and Kaya brought their lovers, and your heart sinks as another wave of loneliness crashes onto your pitiful single soul.

It feels nice to be loved, doesn't it? You think to yourself in jealousy as you look at the home screen of your cellphone.

"Shit, it's one o'clock?!" Yelling to yourself, you correct your posture on the armchair and shake your head to ward off grogginess. No wonder why Usopp and Kaya decided to leave; Kaya has strict guardians, and she only gets to hang out with a select few because she still has a curfew at her big age. It seems like she's broken that rule tonight, though.

Opening your laptop, you're notified that the battery is low. You roll your eyes as you angrily retrieve the charger from your backpack.

Unfortunately, it isn't there.

You look around your bag frantically, believing the device to be there even though it isn't. As you ransack your bag, tears of anger well in your eyes at the unfortunate event, your patience running thin by the second. You look through every pocket, hole, and nook and cranny, but the charger isn't there. When your laptop screen goes black and the stupid low battery icon flashes in the middle of the screen, your eyebrows automatically knit in fury as your hands clench into a tight fist.

Not only were you left alone, but you also can't find the one device that will get you through the night.

Having had enough, you slam your hands on the table in anger, letting the sound echo in the room and the pain settle on your skin. Fuck this shit. Fuck tonight, actually. You feel so alone and stressed by school, and to top it all off, you can't find your dumb laptop charger that you just want to—

"Ugh! I want to punch someone!"

"Okay, I'll just leave then!"

Your head spins toward the door in surprise. A guy with light pink hair peeks through the small opening like a lost dog, his hands a little shaky and his mouth forming a frown. You recognize him: Koby, one of the guys in your classes, who you got to spend a month-long group project with because the other people in your group weren't helping. Koby is calm and sweet, and you may not be close, but you vibe with him just right.

"Um, did you need something? Sorry for the noise, by the way." You sneak in an apology at the end of your question because you're not sure how Koby feels about witnessing an acquaintance-almost-stranger blare out about wanting to punch someone. Like you said, Koby is calm and sweet—it would be bad to give the poor guy a heart attack.

"I-I was going to ask if I could share the room with you since, w-well, you seem to be alone, and I saw your friends come out earlier—"

"Just come in."

Koby ignores the heavy sigh you let out in fear of ticking you off even more. Entering the room, he doesn't know why you're so stressed since you seemed to be having a good time earlier with your friends. The walls are made of glass, so he's been scouting the area like a hawk to hopefully score a vacant room to spend the rest of the night in. Helmeppo left the study hall hours ago in defeat, so he had to fend for himself alone.

Thankfully, you don't seem to be too bothered by his presence. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but maybe it's because he was a good group mate to you in the past.

Koby settles on Nami's vacant seat across from you, putting his bag down on the chair beside him. You watch him with bored eyes, and Koby swears he feels a chill run down his spine when he realizes that you're eyeing him intensely. Even then, he decides to mind his business and begin setting up his materials on the table.

Koby being Koby, unfortunately, he ends up breaking. "Sorry for the interruption," he says after feeling too embarrassed.

"It's okay. Sorry for staring," you mutter. Koby nods, disregarding your tired tone. Justifiable, he thinks. It's one o'clock in the morning, and everybody in the hall hasn't slept much besides him. He mentally pats himself on the back for deciding to sleep before coming there to study—good job.

Suddenly, he notices you groaning to yourself quietly, like a silent cry for help because you're too embarrassed to ask for it. Koby decides whether or not he should ask, seeing that you were already enraged to begin with, but he decides to just go for it because what could possibly go wrong with just asking?

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You roll your eyes. Koby hopes it wasn't meant for him.

"Yeah, yeah, I am— well, not really. No, I'm not okay. Do you have a Type C charger?"

Koby's lips open in slight shock. He's starting to get scared, like you're a ticking time bomb that can detonate any second now. Even then, he slowly nods and reaches for his backpack again to come and collect the charger you're asking for.

"Here." He pushes the device toward you, and you all but leap across the table to grab it. Koby notices your desperation when you crouch on the ground and plug the charger into the wall socket and hastily get your laptop back up and running. He gulps.

Once the screen lights up, your face brightens. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uh, you're welcome!" Koby awkwardly replies through a nervous laugh, delighted to see that you aren't angry anymore.

"You're my savior," you tell him. "You don't know just how sad I was today. I mean, my friends are gone, and my laptop just died on me, but I didn't bring a charger and all that shit. Worst of all, I'm literally—"

Your stomach growls.

"Starving," you finish. Koby keeps the same expression on his face, lips quirked up into an awkward smile as he listens to you ramble. You place a hand on your tummy and you rest your head on the table. "Sorry, Koby..."

He's glad to hear his name, though. It's nice to know that you still remember him despite your foggy brain and tired system. Looking into his backpack again, he grabs a small pink eco-bag and pushes it toward you.

You tilt your head up at the noise. The bag is right in front of your face.

"What's this?"

"You said you were hungry, so..." He nods to the bag and almost jumps from his seat when you snatch it with your quick hands. You look inside, then you scatter the contents on the table. Koby motions to the array of snacks: yogurt, milk, chocolate bars, peanuts, coffee-flavored candies, chocolate malted powder, and two bottles of probiotics. Realizing just how much food he had with him, he scratches his nape shyly. "Um, I always have food with me, but you can have these. I think you might need it because you've been here since morning."

You blankly stare at the assortment of snacks in front of you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your lips form a pout.

Koby notices and assumes that you're staring at the milk.

"Sorry," he says meekly. He's kind of panicked, thinking that he brought the wrong flavor of milk. "Do you hate strawberry?"

"What?" you ask, then later on realize what he's talking about. Oh, poor innocent Koby—he thought you were upset with the milk, but really, you're just moved by his generosity. He's so kind. Do you even deserve this after scaring the guy? "No, I was just, like, thinking to myself, that's all."

"Oh," he says. "What were you thinking of?"

"I'm wondering if you're my guardian angel." His ears perk up and his cheeks start to turn pink. You pick up the strawberry milk he was talking about and inspect it closely. Then, you hold it in front of his face and make a side-by-side comparison. "Your hair and cheeks are pink, just like the milk."

His face flushes even more.

"And now you're blushing harder," you point out. As you observe the snacks on the table, many of what Koby bought seem to be strawberry-flavored, and it warms your heart to think that he seemingly has a natural attraction toward anything pink, like his light fluffy hair (and his seemingly squishable cheeks). It then crosses your mind if his hair is all-natural or if he dyes it regularly because it's the kind of pink that doesn't look real, but at the same time does. Koby catches you staring at him longer than socially acceptable though, so you snap out of your trance to avoid the awkwardness.

"I don't want to assume and waste your study time, but it seems like you're the one all entranced now," he mutters the last part because he realizes that he isn't bold enough to be making such moves on you, so he keeps his head down in embarrassment. When you don't reply, Koby opens his textbook, fixes his specs, and reads.

Your stomach aches another time, so you grab the yogurt and eat it like you haven't eaten in years. One by one, the snacks on the table disappear as you eat in silence, giving yourself a well-deserved break.

Suddenly, it hits you. Loneliness is washed away by a feeling of comfort, and, ugh, it feels so good to feel this way. Truth be told, you're still sad that your single self doesn't have a special romantic support person like your friends do, but even if you never saw Koby in that light, his company almost feels similar to it. Maybe it's the bitter jealous pang in your chest after seeing couple after couple be so lovey-dovey during finals season, but whatever it is, it's eased down a bit because of Koby. The kind guy, Koby. The oh-so-generous guy, Koby. The pink-haired guy who might be a modern-day superhero in secret, Koby. Just how many people has he done this for? Is it just you? How kind is he to share his cute pink bag of snacks because he sensed that you were hungry? What about the charger he probably needs for himself?

As you chew on an energy bar, you realize something.

Since when did Koby look this cute?

"Hey, what are you— are you crying?! Are you okay?!"

You nod your head. You didn't even realize you were crying until Koby looked up from his textbook and pointed it out. You cover your eyes with your arm.

"I'm fine, just, um, ignore me and keep studying! Gosh!"

In panic, he reaches inside his backpack for a fresh pack of tissues. He rises from his seat and walks over to you, offering it.

"Was it the candy? What's wrong?"

You reject the tissues. "No! It's just, like, about you and stuff—"

"Wha— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"No, you got it all wrong! I'm thankful for you, not the other way around." You smile through your dramatic tears. "You're just so sweet to me. You lent me your charger and gave me food when I needed them most."

He blinks slowly.

That's it?

"W-Well, I'm glad that you're... happy... about it... I guess..." he replies questioningly. "Do you still need...?"

"Tissues? No, I'm okay." You wipe your tears with your hands and shake your head. You feel energized. "Thank you, Koby..."

...for being here.

There it goes again: the slight shock on Koby's face has a hint of confusion as he tries to make sense of your actions, but he's more understanding than judgmental given your circumstances. He doesn't know what got you all annoyed in the first place, but if you're okay as you claim to be, then that's good enough for him.

Koby smiles at you genuinely. As he goes back to studying, you make a mental note to befriend him once this is all over.

62 notes · View notes