#May even rework some personalities

[peapod20001]

*looks at some of my ocs*

What if I just...redid your face?

[felixandresims]

KICHEN 2Point0 :)

It’s been well over a year since the last Harlix collaboration, but we are happy to finally be able to announce the KICHEN 2Point0! It all started way back in 2019 with the original KICHEN, so we decided we wanted to bring it back full circle and finally focus back on our much-loved room of the home. A lot has changed over the past 4.5 years, not only in our own personal work but the multitude of custom content creators that also now create kitchens for your Sims. In 2019, there were slim pickings for your homes. Now, there is such a vibrant array of content to choose from, and it really is an excellent thing for all.

In the years that followed, we have really focused on improving our technical skills and artistry, which we hope you can see with this latest set. The stand-out item for us both in the original KICHEN was the wishbone chair. We have personally both tried to find another dining chair that tops it and failed miserably! It is just the perfect chair for use in so many different settings, whether it be modern or even a rustic setting; it’s just so versatile. It deserved an update to our latest techniques and colours & it’s the only item from the original KICHEN set that has been reworked for this newest iteration. Also, back in 2019 we were a little too scared to use our internal name for that item, but in 2024 we are happy to share the appropriately named WISHBONER chair with you 😆

The KICHEN 2Point0 is also designed to fit perfectly into our current Klean & Soho sets to fulfill the kitchen part. For some reason, we always seem to be in sync with our set themes, and no more so than with Klean & Soho. The overlap was very scary tbh, with many Pinterest pins selected independently but shared in common, so we decided to do this 2 part collaboration to create a kitchen to fit both of our current sets, with the hope of creating a much more in-depth set which includes all elements required to make your dream kitchen. This first part focuses on the foundations of that dream kitchen.

All items are Base Game compatible and can be found by searching the b/b catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets, they will also appear when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO.

Set Items include:

- Counter (raised with legs) - Counter (standard) - Island (raised with legs) - Island trolley (3 pieces) - Cabinets (short) - Cabinets (tall) - Appliance Cabinet - Fridge Nooks (high & low) - Built-in Sink (wide & standard) - Dining Table (1, 2 & 3 tile) - Wishboner Dining Chair - Shelving (multiple height endings, middle & standard end pieces) - Hanging Feature Pendant Lights (multiple variants)

Now on Patreon Early Access

Public release on the 7th of May

The collaboration will continue next month and focus on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.

[schlattslambo]

Not sure if you’re doing only smut, or a mix of fluff and smut, but maybe a fic where schlatt and reader have soft and sweet sex? Like maybe the reader is stressed about everything happening in their life and schlatt offers some comfort, which leads into soft sex. K thanks 🙏

a/n: ok i may have gone a bit overboard with this one oopsie, but i really hope you like it!!

—————————-

The house is quiet. For the most part. Your boyfriend isn’t yelling at his computer - mainly because he’s out of the house running some errands, the TV is off, and the cats aren’t chasing each other around the house and breaking things. The only sounds are a record player playing classical music in the sitting room and your breathing. It’s a beautiful fall afternoon, and you had just finished baking some cookies. It should be a relaxing day, but it isn’t. Despite the semi-quiet house, you can’t stop your racing thoughts.

You have so much that you could be doing, but you aren’t even sure where to start. You have projects that you need to finish, a few work emails to send, and you’re in charge of planning a trip abroad with some friends. All of this plus juggling your secret relationship. Schlatt is a very caring person, despite the persona that he displays online. He notices every slight change in your mood and can pick up on things that you don’t even pick up on yourself. And you don’t really care that your relationship is secret; it’s for the best.

But that does little to stop those thoughts. Things that you can be doing better, things that aren’t finished but need to be reworked. All of these things that need your attention. So, you decide to grab your laptop from upstairs and do some work in the sitting room. You curl up on the chair with a mug of your favorite tea and get to work. Your fingers are like a blur as you type on the keyboard, so engrossed in your work that you don’t even hear the door open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Schlatt calls, just as he always does when he comes home to you.

When you don’t answer right away, he figures that you’re in the bathroom or something. He calls your name, but still no answer. Okay, he thinks, no big deal, you probably have your headphones in. Then he spots the freshly baked cookies that are cooling on the counter. Shoving one in his mouth, he continues his search for you.

When he finds you, you’re hunched over your computer, eyes darting across the screen. Your work emails have been sent and the projects are at a point where they can be put on hold for the evening. Now, you’re stressing about hotel deals in the Netherlands. You’d already sent along a quote to your friends for the hotel in Dublin, so you just had to find three other hotels after the one in the Netherlands. You scribble down some information before a large hand is on your shoulder. You jump, but relax when you notice Schlatt standing there.

“What’re you doing, toots?” He asks, chewing on another cookie. “Great cookies by the way.”

“I’m trying to figure out what hotel to stay at when me and the girls go to Europe.” You grumble, tapping away at the keyboard. “I still have to find three more hotels after I get a quote from this one.”

Schlatt looks down at you with a smile. You’re always working so hard, and he loves that about you. One of his favorite things is your work ethic. You always manage to continue working no matter what happens. It also happens to be one of your biggest faults.

“Baby, you really need to listen to your own advice.” Schlatt says, running a hand through your hair. “What do you always say to me?”

“That you’re an idiot?” You ask, looking up with a smile.

Schlatt acts offended, placing a hand over his heart. “No,” He gasps. “Well, yes, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make! You always tell me to pace myself when I work. And it doesn’t look like you’re doing much of that.”

“I don’t have time to pace myself.” You counter. “We leave in six months. I have to get these hotels booked or else we’re going to spend a fortune.”

You turn back to your computer and Schlatt sighs softly. Looks like he’s going to have to do this the hard way.

“C’mon, (y/n),” He says, putting his hands on his hips. “Save your progress.”

He rarely uses your first name, but when he does, you know he’s serious about something. You quickly bookmark the page and close the laptop, peering up at him. Without a word, he scoops you up princess style.

“Hey!” You yelp. “Where are you taking me?”

Schlatt says nothing but walks you to his room. He softly kicks the door closed behind him and plops you on the bed. You look at him and cross your arms on your chest.

“Jay, I really-” Your cut off by his soft lips pressing against yours.

“Honeybun,” He says, using one of your favorite nicknames. “Let me help you relax, m’kay?”

His kisses trail down the side of your neck and all of your thoughts melt into a puddle that now pools in your belly and starts to warm. You nod against him but he pulls back.

“Words, baby.” He says sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You whisper.

“Such good manners.” Schlatt replies, attaching his lips to your collarbone while toying with the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get this off, hm?”

The two of you slip your shirt off together and Schlatt continues kissing you, pressing his lips further down to your chest. He pushes your bra down, then takes a nipple into his mouth. You shudder at the contact, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

“Lay down, my love.” He whispers against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Without a word, you comply. You slip your bra off yourself as Schlatt kisses down your torso and to your waist.

“May I?” He asks, hooking his thumbs into your belt loops.

At your nod, your pants slowly come down, warm kisses pressed to your hips and thighs. His touch is so gentle and sweet that you think you may cry. When your pants come off, Schlatt looks up at you with a smile.

“God,” He breathes. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the entire world. How the fuck did I get so lucky?”

Schlatt expresses his gratitude for you ‘choosing to love him’ all the time, but somehow, this feels different. More intimate. His lips press against your inner thigh, making you let out a soft gasp. He slowly slips off your panties, licking his lips. Once they’re off, he gently spreads your legs, his thick fingers exploring your folds.

“My pretty girl’s all wet,” He smiles, sliding a finger inside of you.

You mewl, arching your back. His thumb finds your clit and rubs slowly, and he watches you with a lovesick smile on his face. His cock grows harder at the sounds your making and how your pussy clenches on his finger every time he presses just a bit more on your clit.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Schlatt’s voice comes out strained as you look at him.

You nod and his cock twitches in his pants. No matter how many times he gets to fuck you, his cock always twitches at the idea. You’ve been dating for around a year and a half, and he gets giddy inside whenever he gets to be this close to you.

“How do you want me?” You ask.

“Missionary.” Schlatt says with a smile. “I want to watch your beautiful face.”

You adjust on the bed as Schlatt finds a condom, resting your head on the many pillows that litter his bed. Just like Jambo has his little feather collection under the couch, Schlatt has a pillow collection on his bed.

He climbs up, smiling at you with such love that your heart does a little flutter. Kisses are pressed up against your ankle, all the way up to your face. Schlatt presses his cock against your entrance, pausing to intertwine your fingers together as his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, slowly entering you. “My beautiful, beautiful baby.”

“I love you too.” You gasp.

His movements are vastly different from when you two usually have sex. He’s usually sporadic and quick with sloppy thrusts and a grip that bruises. This time, he’s holding you so gently that he’s scared he might break you. His thrusts are slow, but have just enough force to them to make your eyes roll back. As Schlatt’s lips attach to your neck again, you let out a moan.

“That’s it,” He praises against you. “Let it out for me. You’re taking me so well, babydoll.”

Schlatt pulls back to look at you, and your eyes meet his. The way you look up at him makes him nearly burst. He continues to go slow, but his orgasm is approaching rapidly. He never cums first, so he needs to stop.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He breathes with a smile. “You’re gonna make me finish too quick. This is about you tonight.”

You smile and sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Schlatt lets go of your hands and reaches down to rub your clit. This allows you to pull him closer and kiss him. The kiss is passionate, slow and intimate. It’s intensified by the shocks of pleasure coming from your clit. Schlatt adds more pressure, making you break the kiss.

“F-Fuck,” You whimper. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Schlatt asks with a smile. “You wanna cum for me?”

You nod and moan, looking up at him with those pretty eyes. He rubs your clit in circles and uses the other hand to gently caress your chest. The small action sends you over the edge. You grip Schlatt by the back of the neck and pull him down, your moans muffled by another kiss. He thrusts as you cum, chasing his own orgasm. Only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming as well, groaning into your mouth.

As Schlatt comes down from his high, you look at him with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile. He quickly disposes of the condom and cleans himself up, coming back to bed and scooping you into his arms.

“You’ve been working so hard lately.” He says as he runs a hand through your hair. “I’m so, so proud of you. You make me and the boys so happy. I love you so much.”

You smile and lean into his touch. “Thank you,” You whisper. “I really needed this.

Schlatt presses a kiss to your forehead and snuggles you until the two of you drift off to sleep. You don’t mean to take a nap in the middle of the day, but you also didn’t expect to make love at 3pm either. But as you drift off to sleep in Schlatt’s arms, those racing thoughts are gone. The only thoughts that remain are how lucky you feel to have someone so thoughtful in your life.

[dhl-au]

So, as you may have noticed, I have been working on a lot of redesigns for the au right now. Because the old ones were not relevant this year, my art style has improved.

There are three redesigns for the pre-horror trio of administrators. (One of them will be hidden for some reason, it's not time for that person to appear in the story.)

As you can see, only two have changed a lot. However, in my opinion, they look much better.

The main reason why I changed them was that I was not very happy with how they looked. Basically, I felt a bit weird when I looked at them and just said "I don't know... Feels a bit unfinished." As you may notice, a lot of changes are happening to Abel. He has a more human look and is closer to his horror appearance. Unfortunately, even the third person has undergone many changes. Basically, the body. Most of the work was done to make it look more human and non-human.

I also changed the poses and angles of their poses slightly. Just to feel less uncomfortable about them in my head.

On old ones, you can see color disbalance, weird design decisions, and many other things compared to new ones. Simply, I was not happy with Mushy's idea of Abel fitting into this AU. There is not much to say here, just my own destructive thoughts that I might copy designs and ideas. Now, a bit about Caine. His palette was reworked and simple outfit designs were created, trying to balance all the colors so that they didn't feel unbalanced. I also added special items for them so that they could move around locations much faster than regular players.

And oh well, dear God, there's a lot of text. I never have written so much. Ahaha, sorry about that. I guess it's just my thoughts on these design things and etc.

[thatdruidgal]

How to organize your grimoire [upg]

Putting Together Your Grimoire/Book of Shadows

Over my time putting together my grimoire, I’ve seen a lot of different people put together their lists of “everything you need in your grimoire”. While I don’t believe that everyone needs to write a world-renowned magical encyclopedia (see the linked post below by @queer-tech-seer), I do want everyone to have a good idea of where to put the information that they do put in their grimoire.

See this post for how I organize my grimoire

Firstly, you need an introduction section. This goes at the beginning of the book and can include things like:

your devotion to the craft

a short daily mantra

a quick list of your most-accessed info

name the kinds of crafts you practice and focus on

your code of conduct/ethics

a protection spell

your zodiac signs, life number, and tarot card

Second, you need info about your craft. This can be anything like:

lunar magick

nature/green magick

hearth magick

urban magick

crystal magick

You may also want to include activities/interests for each type of magick.

If you’re interested in crystal magick, you should check out my Witchy Boxes! @moonstone-magick

Third, you need your recipes.

spell jars

food and drinks

incense + burn sticks

sachets

even crystal grid patterns, anything with steps!

This post has a few of my favorite recipes

Fourth, you need rituals.

blessings

cleansings

prayers

energy work

sigil spells

Fifth, put any information about the kinds of divination you practice, if any.

tarot

omens

numerology

tasseomancy

cartomancy

psychic abilities

I usually write hedge-riding/astral travel also in this section.

Sixth, write your beliefs.

What specific beliefs you subscribe to

What deities you honor/work with (if any)

Your worldviews

Your thoughts about the creation or the afterlife

And that’s basically it!

Farewell and good tides! 💜

Branwen

Like what you see? Consider supporting me! ko-fi.com/thatdruidgal

[emonewtype]

So I've been doing some thinking on the rumors of a TotA remaster and how it would work out with a pattern I've noticed: even now with Graces remaster announced, every tales game to get a remaster for modern consoles and steam had, at some point, a downloadable PS3 version, and I assume that these PS3 versions are what the modern versions are further modifications of. An Abyss remaster would be the first time that method would be impossible, leading to two possibilities:

1) They go all the way back and painstakingly force the nearly 20 year old PS2 version to play nice in HD and on modern hardware, in a massive W for old games preservation and providing hope that we may one day get Destiny Directors Cut

Or, the option that I can't stop thinking about:

2) Unlike the previous remasters, they instead choose to go for a full remake in modern Tales style, in the vein of what we've seen Capcom do with their Resident Evil, with script details changed, gameplay completely reworked, and likely an all new voice cast for the english dub.

If they do go with that second option, then as with all full remakes these days, the fanbase will probably debate which is the better version, and I find it hilarious that this fanbase, of all of them, will all have to ask the questions:

Do you love the Original, or the Replica? Can you find room in your heart for both? How much of a difference is there between them, really? Are those differences important? Does that importance come from something inherent in what was changed, or does it come from your personal relationship with it? Does the existence of the Original make it okay to judge the Replica at a higher standard than normal? Does the existence of the Replica make it okay that the Original will be forgotten?

I'm starting to feel for Natalia, and how she was so fond of Asch.

[celaenaeiln]

Hiii, I don't really know if you made a post about this or not, but can I ask what you think of damian and dick's relationship? you have a really deep insight on the bat family's relationship, so I'm curious on how you would describe those two

Damian and Dick are probably the most important to each other in the family with the other being each other's most favorite person in the world. Dick is Damian's father, brother, mentor, and best friend. Actually it's reflective of Dick's relationship with Bruce but none of the toxic expectations and brute force of misplaced responsibilities.

Dick is loving and understanding of Damian and he's able to read him before Damian can even express his words.

For example, when the Black Lantern things open the caskets of Martha and Thomas Wayne, Dick asks Damian to help him wrap up the bodies but-

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

He's able to anticipate and take care of Damian before Damian can even tell him what he's thinking. That's the level of love and understanding Dick has of him.

Damian is insanely protective over Dick. When Deadman, Boston Brand, jumps into Dick, Damian gets super protective of his Batman.

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

Also Dick CANNOT STAND IT when someone hurts or insults Damian.

Blackest Night: Batman Issue #1

Honestly I think Dick loves Damian's sass. Even when he says he wants to kill people Dick's just like, "not today another day kiddo" which is just super heartwarming when you hear their banter.

Anyways, Dick and Damian have the funniest back and forth!

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #21

Damian values each and every word of Dick's.

Batman: Streets of Gotham Issue #1

While Damian respects Batman for what he created and wants to be appreciated as his son, Damian just loves Dick for who he is. I know some people think Bruce may be jealous of Dick and Damian's relationship, and while it's possible, I think Bruce is just super proud and happy. His greatest joy in life comes from Dick succeeding and he would have found it weird if Dick and Damian didn't get along because he inherently believes that Dick is the peak of goodness.

What I love most about Dick and Damian is that Damian is always shown as a loveable kid when he's with Dick. In the Batman and Robin (2011) comics with Bruce and Damian vs the Batman and Robin (2009) comics with Dick and Damian, Damian is much softer. Part of this comes from Bruce's refusal to treat him as robin originally, but their interactions are more stilted than the easy-going and funny ones between Damian and his big brother. But here's where it gets interesting. The writers write the characters in terms of how they would react to each other. What perception they would have of each other. So subconsciously the writers are creating the characters based on how they look at each other - meaning, Dick only sees Damian's good sides and finds his darker ones humorous whereas Bruce sees more of Damian's darker sides and has to rework himself to acknowledge Damian's growth.

I find that so fascinating how a character's personality in accordance with their relationships feeds back into the writer's writing rather than the writer influencing the relationships.

The most Dick has said about Damian willing to kill criminals is-

Batman: Streets of Gotham Issue #3

Another reason why Damian values Dick aside from being on the receiving end of his unconditional love is that Dick treats Damian like an equal. Dick doesn't command Damian to stay at his side at all times, he send Damian to do one task while he finishes up the other half. This indicates the amount of trust and faith he has in Robin's abilities and Damian in turn respects that.

Something that needs to be brought to attention is that just as much as Dick stops Damian from killing people, he is also his number one aiding and abetting partner.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #1

I LOVE THE MEAN LITTLE GRIN ON HIS FACE!!

My favorite part is Dick makes time for Damian just to have fun. He's a mentor and a father, but he's also the best brother someone could ask for.

Nightwing (2016) Issue #4

Honestly Gotham War Issue #138 was so confusing to me because there's just no way Damian would pander mindlessly to receive Bruce's acceptance. He literally broke from Batman to become his own person - he ran away - and suddenly he's back and begging for Bruce's love?? Even fighting over Dick is fine but the lack of connection between them?

Damian is single handedly the most important person in the world to Dick.

Damian is Dick's son.

Robin (2021) Issue #5

I find their relationship special because this is the only in his entire time life that Dick has ever given away a family momento of his own volition first. His parents and his background mean the utmost to him; he cradles the memories with longing and love. But inspite all this, he's giving away the last piece of family history. No, giving away isn't the right word. He's passing down his legacy. Damian is his son, he's literally inheriting the Grayson legacy in the way that only Dick can give. Bruce gave the kids Dick's mantle but he cannot give any of them Dick's history but Dick gave that to Damian. That's beautiful.

He straight up says it too

Nighwing (2016) Issue #20

"When your dad came back, there was a moment I thought it would be better for you if you stayed with me. As my partner. As my..." "Really?" "Yeah."

DC SAID DICK AND DAMIAN FATHER AND SON RIGHTS AS CLOSE AS THEY COULD WITHOUT TAKING AWAY BRUCE'S BLOOD CLAIM.

Damian considers Dick his father.

Nighwing (2016) Issue #18

"Finding a new life. Considering a child to replace me. I don't know what I will be...alone. I need you here, Richard."

"Considering a child to replace me. "

Damian is heartbroken at the idea that Dick will have a kid and move on.

He loves Dick so much he goes all the way to Bludhaven just because he loves and misses him after Bruce took over as Batman.

Nighwing (2016) Issue #20

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #8

"Are you with me Nightwing? The odds are completely against us."

"When did we ever let something like that get in the way? Robin the boy wonder, Damian."

Batman Incorporated (2012) Issue #8

"So far I'd say you've been my favorite partner. We were the best, Richard. Not matter what anyone thinks."

Robin (2021) Issue #5

Nightwing (2016) Issue #20

The world can stand against Damian but Dick will always be on his side.

Which is a problem in recent DC works because

Dick & Damian:

og panels Batman & Robin (2009) Issue #17

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[snapscube]

Wait, what's the difference between benchmark 2 and benchmark 1? :0

LOTS of stuff. there was a lot of feedback about how the first benchmark (particularly the character creator portion) was causing characters to look somewhat uncanny. there were some texture issues, some modeling issues, some surprising oversights, and the character creator still containing the old lighting systems and environments of the base game was really fucking with the vibe. personally, i still think it was an overall improvement and u could def see it more in the benchmark cutscene itself with the dawntrail environments, but there were very fair concerns. it's not particularly surprising that with such a massive update there would be more oversights and issues than we're used to. BUT, with the new one they have fixed a large majority of the problems! including:

entirely reworked character creator environment. this is easily the largest scale change. they updated the lighting systems, removed dynamic weather conditions and lighting changes so things stay consistent, updated foliage and textures to represent dawntrail quality, removed the vignette around the screen, and more. they even added a new lighting mode in the "aether" environment that gives your character a very natural and consistent studio lighting so you have an environment that better represents your character's base skin tone. it's so, so good. look at the new foliage and lighting in the black shroud environment.

2. they improved shading in the actual dawntrail environments as well so characters keep a nice amount of depth on their face even in dimly lit zones

3. eyes no longer look dead in low light as the shader system that replaced the highlight texture has been strengthened so eyes now properly are very pretty and shiny

and then yeah like i said there's a lot of texture fixes they made like moon miqote having their fangs reduced and lalafell having scary teeth scaling :)

and you may be thinking "wow this is a lot of work to put into at the last second just for a benchmark" but the cool thing is that ALL of these changes are being applied to the actual expansion. so people's feedback towards the benchmark actively improved the launch state of the expansion itself!

im just very happy about dawntrail :D i cant wait for the end of the month aaaa

[theminecraftbee]

vault god facts for the new vault hunters watcher

(IE: hey hermitcraft fans HERE ARE YOUR GUYS TO DO LORE WITH)

so, there are four in-game vault gods. however, you'll sometimes hear people like hbomb refer to the "vault gods" when talking about the vault hunters devs. that, or blaming the name of douwsky, the janitor. those are not the gods i'm referring to here but ask me about my iskall headcanons as a result of this sometime.

each god has altars in the vault, which will ask for a specific sacrifice in order to give you favor with that god. they also have idols, which raise your favor and have bonuses depending on which god the idol belongs to (as well as bonuses to things like amount of mana and how fast you recover from status effects).

having favor with a god can confer upon you bonuses within the vault, and has a compounding effect the more favor you have.

raising favor with one god will eventually lower favor with another (assuming update 12 keeps that mechanic), so the hermits will eventually develop certain gods they each individually have more of an affinity towards, depending on their play style. this can be seen in the vault hunters stat screen, so keep an eye out!

you used to be able to get negative favor with the vault gods, and they'd hurt you in the vault. this has largely been removed in this version of vault hunters (unless they put it back in update 12, i haven't quite caught up with the mechanical rework from this update). pete had a whole arc about this in season 2 of vh smp.

when vault god favor activates at the start of a vault, the gods have quotes they state in the chat. from these, you can pick up a bit of their personalities.

they have official art! that being said, even with this official art, people like to interpret them a lot of ways, so go crazy go nuts!

it seems the final boss may have something to do with these figures...

the four gods are as follows:

idona, the malevolent is the red vault god. their altar asks you to kill mobs as sacrifice. when you have favor with idona, you earn more soul shards while killing, have higher strength, and are more effective at killing mobs.

tenos, the omniscient is the blue vault god. their altar asks you to give up levels as a sacrifice. when you have favor with tenos, you find more items while looting, those items are rarer, and generally you'll get more out of the vault.

wendarr, the timekeeper is the yellow vault god. their altar asks you to give up mana as sacrifice. when you have favor with wendarr, mana regenerates faster, you can have more time in the vault, and generally things that take time will move more in your favor.

velara, the benevolent is the green vault god. their altar asks you to give up health as sacrifice. when you have favor with velara, you can get regeneration, have more hearts, and generally you'll be healthier and heal faster. additionally, velara is the god that punishes you for using healing potions in the vault by cutting your healing efficiency by a large amount. only use vault potions if you don't want to anger them.

and that's some vault gods knowledge for you to lore with! have fun! :D

[ukiyowi]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 (𝟓𝟒𝟎𝟓)

ETERNAL CHILDHOOD

The place Neverland (asteroid 5305) comes from the works of J.M Barrie where characters like Peter Pan, Captain Hook and the Lost Boys come from. Neverland talks about never growing up. In my opinion, wherever this asteroid is in your chart it can signify escapism (where you escape to when the world's troubles come your way).

NOTE: THESE ARE JUST MY OBSERVATIONS don't take my word as gospel~

Navi

∞ 1st: You may turn to childhood hobbies, maybe playing games you played in your early years, or focusing on your outward appearance, trying to feel better through fashion or makeup, express yourself in terms of your appearance. This placement may indicate talking to yourself/giving yourself very frequent pep talks and/or affirming a lot.

∞ 2nd: You could turn to things that give you comfort like foods that you've liked for a long time, like you may eat or drink or go/order food from somewhere you like. It can also suggest that you may either window shop or spend money on things you like. It could be like a reward system, you are rewarding yourself for getting through the tough time.

∞ 3rd: Probably will turn to reading or debates, I've noticed 3rd house also concerns itself with commentary so maybe you'd watch commentary videos on YouTube, something that will get the gears going in your head to distract you from the problems you may be facing. Could also spend time with your siblings if you have any.

∞ 4th: You'll turn to your family, maybe a maternal figure when you are in trouble. You may seek solace from elders around you, probably go to them for advice or just to talk. I've noticed some people with this placement throw themselves into academic work/they'll start researching on random topics and go in-depth as an escape.

∞ 5th: You create, I have a friend with this placement and she goes complete re-enactment of her favourite movie scene either out loud or in her head because it makes her feel so much better/works as an outlet, you may paint/draw too OOO or watch dramatic movies that is also something I've noticed.

∞ 6th: You move, you need physical movement may it be going on a run or exercising (something related to health) or simply pacing around the house makes you feel better. You may start making plans/timetables for yourself as it may act as a distraction. You may throw yourself into work and surround yourself with projects so that you constantly have something to do.

∞ 7th: Personally noticed that yes they may try to escape using relationships both platonic and romantic and getting lost in them treating them as ideal even when they're not BUT ALSO I've noticed that these placements usually may play uhm dating simulation games? Like good old fashioned otome games or something this is just a personal observation because I too have this placement and uhh :D

∞ 8th: I have a friend with this placement and as typical as it may sound she either goes and interacts with NSFW stuff or masturbates, they may also spend kinda recklessly or play gacha games (or actually gamble) this could be linked to reckless spending OR on the flip side trying to earn as much as I can usually for others benefit like through fundraisers.

∞ 9th: I've noticed they go into their mind, probably try to analyse the situation. I've seen that they may research on an array of topics as well just whatever interests them, they may also look towards religion if they are religious or look towards spirituality, trying to find solace or answers in a higher power, the escapist tendencies may lead to becoming parts of communes

∞ 10th: The typical and often true answer, they throw themselves into work BUT I've noticed that they try to change themselves, like major changes, they may try to change their entire persona in a small period of time, from how they're viewed to how they dress. They essentially want to rebrand and rework.

∞ 11th: Spending time with close friends, for a lot of them probably spending time online, coming online can especially give them a break from reality, also the type to havemore online friends as well, they could also get into a lot of volunteer work, probably having to do with mental health or old ages homes.

∞ 12th: One is sleeping I don't know why but I know 2 people with this placement and they just go to bed, if not that then it's either journaling like art journaling or poetry writing, romanticised poetry that too, a lot of the times they just get lost in a daydream, in an ideal world where whatever they're escaping from doesn't exist, probably also the type to isolate themselves.

-♡♡♡-

[kerubimcrepin]

Dofus: The Production - what is left of the old movie

Originally, the movie was supposed to tie in with the game and the Welsh & Shedar series, and be a trilogy.

As we had already explored on this blog, this did not happen for a variety of reasons.

Welsh and Shedar got cannibalized by other projects due to its cancellation, and the script of the movie "Dofus Book 1: Joris Jurgen" had to be completely rewritten from its old plot;

In that movie, Joris was likely supposed to be a street urchin, who survived together with Lilotte, who was a rogue, and the trailer we have for the older version of the movie reflects that:

As we can also see from the trailer, and the poster featured earlier, proto-Kerubim is also a part of the movie, and Khan was not yet meant to be a boufbowler.

(And considering the posters, the cat that inspired Kerubim's design was also a part of the movie. I wonder if it's related to Welsh's cat from Welsh and Shedar? But maybe I'm just crazy.)

Subsequently, the movie came out at a much later date than planned originally.

(two images included because, bizarrely, there are two versions - one with Joris's tail censored, and the other with his tail uncensored. This proves that already at this point they had a draconic backstory in mind for him, though we do know that at the time of Wakfu season 1 (and, likely, the cancelled DS game, as was noted in my post about it) it was not the case.)

Also, interestingly, it is the only art of this time to include the tail. A possible error on Xa's part, or something that was considered very briefly?

In the end, Kerubim (as well as Simone) swallowed up not just the design of Welsh's cat, clothes, and Ecaflip friend;

He also got the role Julith was supposed to have, both metaphorically, and also literally.

Or not entirely — considering the fact that Joris was supposed to spend time with him anyway, since we have art of Joris on his mount from that old draft.

It's quite interesting, to think of all that could have been different in the 2009-2012 version of the movie!

But even during the making of the second draft of the movie, a lot of things have changed. From the first idea of Joris winning Kerubim back at a pachinko machine, to the concept art of Joris's non-possessed appearance.

The movie was being actively rewritten at the time of the making of Aux Tresors, so some of the early drafts were already tied in with its canon — taking place in Astrub, to be specific — but not with its ending, because the show was still ongoing.

At one point there was supposed to be a whole cast of Huppermage characters, and judging from the fact one of them is mentioned in the following text, they did play some sort of role in the plot:

It is likely that from this early draft it was decided that Joris would be a boufbowl fan, which was then worked in as a plot point in Aux Tresors.

(Stélina may be a proto-version of Bakara.)

It also seems that at this stage, it would be likely that Lilotte was reworked to be the Princess of Bonta, before eventually becoming the Ouginak we know and love.

After this Ankama once again returned to the concept of Lilotte as an orphan, though — even when the movie was still set in Astrub!

And it seems that the draft involved travel between Astrub and Bonta, judging from the usage of a Zaap to attack Luis.

And even at this point they have come up with the tragically cut "Joris and Khan go to adult industry workers and Joris (10yo boy) engages in depressed underaged drinking" scene.

(I'll never forgive Ankama for cutting this. I still argue that it's in character for Khan, our detested/beloved turbovirgin, to do this — as long as he doesn't get together with any of the women due to thinking himself "too good" for them.)

Also, at some point the gods were supposed to play a role. And personally, I am glad it was cut — it feels a bit too grand for the first movie in what was supposed to be a series.

I don't have any grand statement, or conclusion, but it is interesting to see all the ways the movie has changed.

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Perhaps, if he had bothered to ask for a second opinion, Shadow Milk Cookie would have been told he shouldn't be doing this. Luckily, he hadn't, so he manages to confidently prepare the magic circle with very little concern towards the appropriateness of his own actions.

He steps back to look over it once more, checking for any errors, before finally setting the chalk down. Brushing off the dust from his hands, Shadow Milk admires his handiwork in the light of the crescent moon, his dough crawling with accumulated anticipation.

He noticed it a long time ago, the suffocating blanket of churning emotion that often drapes itself over him, heavy and dark. It isn't his own emotion, he realised that quickly, because it weighs over him instead of burrowing into his chest, and nothing happened to him personally to prompt such tumultuous feelings. This realisation was soon followed by another – namely, that some sort of external being must be the cause, and it must be following him, if its presence is plaguing him so strongly. It comes and it goes, but it always returns, and he is finally going to find out what it is.

So Shadow Milk is looking forward to this. It is his specialty as the holder of the Light of Truth, after all, to reveal unknowns, and this unknown has long become personal.

With the magic circle ready and the moon in the sky, there is no reason for him to wait any longer, so he doesn't. He steps carefully into the circle, making sure not to disturb the lines as he makes his way to the middle, and with a sweep of his robes, he settles down into a sitting position.

This spell is a difficult one because it was found incomplete, the rest of it either lost to time or unfinished. It had taken quite a lot of reworking to finalise something feasible, in between all his other duties. There is also the added caveat of it being a Black Magic spell, but Shadow Milk had found a compromise for that, which is precisely why he chose to perform it under the smiling crescent, mere days away from the new moon, instead of the full moon.

Regardless of the effort required, if everything went well, this spell should allow him to make contact with the being that had been following him, whatever it may be. More specifically, it should open a mental connection, allowing them to have a conversation even if this being was something incapable of speech.

That alone was worth all this effort. After all, Shadow Milk had plenty of questions to ask it.

He plants his hands on the ground, drawing power from the moon tentatively like unspooling a thread. It starts to spill in quicker, wilder, and he makes sure to remain calm as it seems to buzz and writhe through him, focusing on redirecting it into the magic circle. It begins to glow a cold white, and Shadow Milk feels his dough prickling like it is being watched, that familiar presence growing heavier around him like a blanket. He bites down on his excited smile.

Don't worry. Just a little bit more, and we'll finally meet.

Shadow Milk's hands twitch with the force of the magic coursing through him, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as the shadows in the room seem to congeal, growing thicker and pooling out of their hiding spots. They eat away at the magic circle, closing in on Shadow Milk swiftly, and he welcomes them as they eagerly swallow the circle, the floor, the walls, the room, everything.

What happens next is difficult to describe. He doesn't feel the ground fall out from under him, he just realises it is no longer there. It is so dark that it makes no difference if his eyes are open or closed, and they don't seem to adjust no matter how many times he blinks. It only makes the surrounding darkness begin to squirm in strange patterns, as if alive. He suddenly feels strange and cold.

But most importantly, he feels like he is submerged in those restless emotions, his every move weighted like he is underwater. They nearly choke him, stronger than he has ever felt before, and delight bursts in his chest in jarring contrast, thrilled that the spell seems to have worked.

"Hello?" He calls out, his voice echoing in a way that makes his ears ring. For a moment that feels like forever, there is nothing but a deafening silence around to greet him.

And then, he is attacked with blinding light.

Shadow Milk rears back as much as he can manage, instinctively shutting his eyes at the assault, and raises a hand to shield them when he immediately tries to open them again, curious of the source. Squinting past the shade of his palm, he finds dozens of white suns glaring down at him, their light doing nothing to penetrate the overwhelming black of the void.

"How are you here?" A voice calls back, hoarse and whispery and frantic, as if it had never been used before, and Shadow Milk's breath catches.

Upon closer inspection, the suns surrounding him are actually the pupils of a dozen huge eyes, bearing down on him with wide-eyed focus from all sides. Shadow Milk soaks in the attention, joy bubbling nauseatingly in his stomach like soda, his mind running so fast that his thoughts become incomprehensible.

"Who are you?" He asks, the question almost bursting right out of his chest with how suddenly it comes. He can't quite look at the eyes directly, with how blindingly bright they are, but he does his best to hedge in quick glances.

There isn't a response, not from the voice or the eyes, but that doesn't deter him. Now Shadow Milk has unshakeable proof that the being is here, capable of conversation, he doesn't need any more encouragement to keep going.

"I'm Shadow Milk Cookie, though you must know that already." He introduces himself with a polite nod of his head, somewhat entertained by the thought of his eldritch companion being shy. When that doesn't garner any meaningful result, he tacks on, lightheartedly, "Isn't it a bit rude to not introduce yourself back?"

The eyes blink at him, the syncopated movement rippling through the nothingness.

"...There is nothing to introduce." The voice replies reluctantly, though it sounds more stable than before, slightly stronger as it curls around him. "I don't have a name anymore."

"You must have a name," Shadow Milk urges with a creeping smile, "or at least something I can call you."

There is another stretch of silence, long enough that Shadow Milk is forced to reconsider his approach, before it is graciously broken by his companion, who must have come to some kind of conclusion.

"You can call me the Beast of Deceit, if you must call me at all." The Beast offers, and if Shadow Milk's attention hadn't already been fully devoted to it, that certainly would have done the trick. "That is all anyone calls me now."

"The Beast of Deceit." Shadow Milk repeats the syllables carefully, tasting them as he brings a hand up to the warm pulse of his Soul Jam. Something clicks pleasantly in his mind, like a perfect solution to an equation that has been bothering him. "Then you're almost like my other half, aren't you? Since Truth and Deceit are direct opposites." The thought is nice enough, he supposes, but more than that, it is intriguing. "Is that why you've been watching me?"

This must be the wrong thing to ask, because the Beast skates past his question entirely, eyes squinting as if pained. "You shouldn't be here."

"And yet, here I am. It took quite a lot of work for me to get here too, so you'll understand that I'm not in a hurry to leave." Shadow Milk explains amicably, hoping that if he was clear with his intentions, the Beast might entertain a more fruitful conversation. He pauses, looking around at the surrounding infinity. "Where is here, anyway?"

"Nowhere you would want to be." The Beast says cryptically, its voice slowly moving, collecting somewhere in front of him. It's a bit disorienting.

"...You aren't very good at holding a conversation, are you?" Shadow Milk sighs, not unkindly but certainly with growing frustration. Still, he has considered this possibility before, of his unknown companion being uncooperative, so he tries again. "Isn't it unfair for you to not answer any of my questions, after following me around for so long? I think I deserve an explanation, at least."

"I have no explanation to give." The Beast's tone is flat. It's… a disappointing response, frankly, but Shadow Milk smiles through it.

"But you can't deny that you are the one who has been following me." He counters, his voice light and pleasant so it doesn't come across too heavily as an accusation. "Your emotions are very palpable, so your presence isn't subtle. There is no mistaking it."

The coiling thickness of those emotions seem to shift around Shadow Milk now, almost self-consciously, but they do not lighten. Such strong negative feelings - he is fascinated by them, the researcher in him wanting to know what exactly could cause them.

The Beast sighs as if it is carrying the weight of the world on its shoulders, and the sound finally settles in front of him entirely as some of the eyes slide closed. The clashing light and dark begins to morph before him, a faint silhouette forming and rising out of the nothingness.

Shadow Milk watches, enraptured, as the shape of a Cookie emerges, dripping with the void itself. He looks battered, wrapped in dishevelled black robes with equally dishevelled dull hair. It is covered by a dark hat shaped like a crown, with what must be his Soul Jam set in the middle, its blue the only splash of colour to be seen. His eyes are covered in a thick black blindfold, and he holds a staff protectively in front of himself with both hands, eerily similar in style to the one Shadow Milk left outside of the magic circle, if not for the vertically oriented eye.

All in all, he does not look intimidating. If anything, he looks like a chess piece.

"I apologise for that, then. I wasn't aware my presence would disturb you so much." The Beast mutters, as if he would prefer not to be speaking, his form not quite fully formed. "But you shouldn't be here. Please leave."

"You don't look like much of a beast to me." Shadow Milk comments warmly, extending the friendly compliment in the hopes of distracting the Beast from his complete lack of intention to leave. Even so, his words are genuine. "That title doesn't fit you at all."

The Beast frowns, ducking his head lower. "Don't act so familiar with me. I am called the Beast of Deceit for a reason." He hisses, but it holds no malice, only tiredness. Then, after a beat, he repeats, firmer than before. "Please leave."

The title really doesn't suit him, though. Shadow Milk ponders this for a moment, before mentally renaming him as the King instead. A poor excuse for a king, perhaps, but that still felt far more appropriate than a beast.

"...Will you really not tell me anything?" Shadow Milk asks finally, growing more subdued. "You must know, since you have been following me, that I have worked hard to be able to contact you like this."

"I have nothing to tell, I have already told you that." The King reminds him quietly, unimpressed, turning his head away. "I apologise for your wasted time, but it was unnecessary to begin with." Then, after a beat, he repeats, an attempt at a lacklustre command. "Please leave."

Shadow Milk hums under his breath, pondering this too. This isn't going exactly how he had hoped, that is true, but to call his time wasted is completely incorrect. On the contrary, all this encounter has done is make his curiosity peak, even more invested in this mystery than he was before.

Maybe it was for the best that the King refused to tell him anything. Thinking about it now, wouldn't that have been too simple? It is more fun to unravel some things himself, and Shadow Milk is certainly capable of uncovering the truth behind this odd apparition.

It is his virtue, after all.

"...Alright." Shadow Milk nods, taking one last lingering look at the King, before closing his eyes. "If you insist, I'll leave."

The King doesn't reply. That's fine. Shadow Milk focuses on searching himself internally for the tether to his physical body, for the anchor that is the magic circle. Since this is his first time casting this spell, and the way the magic twists is unfamiliar, it admittedly takes him a moment to get a hold of it, but he does.

Concentrating on that anchor, he calls himself back to his body.

Much like leaving, returning is just as hard to describe. There is no jolt, or impact. Everything simply returns – his senses, the floor beneath him, the sound of the wind outside the window – from one moment to the next. He shudders as he gets reacquainted with his body, or rather, his body gets reacquainted with him.

The chaos of those negative emotions are awfully thick in the air, squeezing around him tightly like they hope to crumble him. Shadow Milk relaxes into it, releasing his grip on the flow of magic and the spell itself, and opens his eyes.

There, in front of him, the King is suspended in the air above the outer edge of the circle, unmoving. His form flickers, translucent and blurring at the edges. Slowly, unnervingly slowly like he doesn't know how to use it properly, he turns his head.

"...What is this?" The King whispers, the words almost dissolving into the ambient noise, his grip on his staff visibly tightening.

"The spell I used to make contact with you forged a connection between us." Shadow Milk says patiently, making sure his expression is open and welcoming, the same one he uses when introducing himself to new students. "If my presence could be projected to wherever we were previously, then naturally your presence can be projected here too. It's only fair, since you were watching me anyway, weren't you?"

Shadow Milk rises to his feet, brushing dust off his robes with both hands. The King says nothing, but he can practically feel the frown directed at him.

"I understand if you don't want to tell me anything. That's okay!" Shadow Milk assures, lifting his gaze back to that blindfold, that staff, that Soul Jam, near identical to his own. His curiosity burns.

"You don't have to tell me," he smiles like a promise, "I'll find out for myself."

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a former ward of alicent hightower and aemond's childhood companion, shera stark, returns to king's landing after ten years. ten years after the incident at driftmark that left her and aemond permanently disfigured. after so many years apart, shera and aemond are almost strangers. almost.

a/n: i posted the first two chapters of this story before, but they're being reworked -- so just poof what you know about them out of your mind when reading it now and think of it as a clean slate.

wordcount: 3k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage

story playlist

The wind had finally died down that day, the trees somewhat still over the horizon. Their branches still wobbled with some errant breeze, whistling through the wood like a song. 

The window was pushed outward, the crisp air crossing paths with the smell of smoke, whirling and mingling like lost friends. A small fireplace was warming the room as the lady perched on her windowsill, dark copper curls hanging around her like tendrils. Shera took in a deep breath of air— it was crisp and refreshing, pushing away the errant effects of sleepiness. 

Her skin prickled in goosebumps beneath her nightgown as she turned to her bed. A large black mass was snoozing softly still, taking up the majority of the mattress. Slinking over, she snuggled herself close to the giant canine, blowing softly on his muzzle to wake him. Large amber eyes met brown and milky blue, pupils dilating and constricting in tandem, before the wolf let out a sleepy chuff. 

“Wake up, my love,” Shera whispered, fingers digging into his shaggy mane as she scratched just the right spot. “Moongeist, we must start the day.” she hummed. 

The direwolf rolled over onto his back, belly exposed to the chilled air. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, one leg kicking as his companion got the one itch just out of reach of his own claws. 

“Oh, you’re a ham,” Shera mumbled into his fur, peppering him with kisses. “You’re no wolf, you’re a honey glazed ham,” she tickled his belly, causing him to let out an almost laughing whine. “With a side of sweet potatoes and winter chard.” she rolled next to him, snuggling into him like he was a person. Sprawled out from the tip of his outstretched legs, up to his nose, he outmatched Shera’s height by about one and a half feet. Westeros would surely need to watch out if her wolf ever learned to walk on two feet! 

They lazed together for the better part of an hour before Shera called in the maids— but not before donning her veil and choker. The maids would only help dress her from the neck down, and were ushered out after for Shera to do her hair alone. She took in a deep breath as they fastened the corset around her form. 

“May need to lay off the blueberry hand pies , my lady,” one of the maids murmured. “‘Tis getting hard to lace you up.” 

Shera felt a swirling pit in her stomach at the comment— it wasn’t a secret that she was no svelte ermine. She had curves and a bit of extra mass in the softer areas of her body, coupled with scarred stretch marks around her sizable bosom and thighs. “… hm.” she snorted, not wanting to dignify the maid’s comment with a response. This was, unfortunately, the norm. The jabs, the pokes, the insults between sentences— even the serving girls have become brazen, snickering as Shera walked past. She didn’t exactly understand it— mayhaps it was because she could hardly speak to defend herself, mayhaps they think her daft and non-understanding of their less than tactful barbs. 

As normal as it was, it made it no less tiring. “Just… lace it up,” she quipped, a bit too harshly, as she held her thumb and forefinger to her throat at the scratch of pain. “… I have things to attend to…” 

“Yes, my lady.” the maids responded in tandem, squeezing poor Shera into a corset much too tight. 

After they left, Shera picked up a shoe and threw it at the door, startling Moongeist. “Damned ptarmigans… clucking hens… when do they cease?” she groaned, patting the wolf on the head as he, ever dutifully, retrieved her shoe. “I’m… we’re the wolves— they’re supposed to be afraid of me.” she continued, as it usually went. She would whisper and murmur to herself (to Moongeist) while she readied herself. Sitting in front of the open window, her fingers deftly weaved through her auburn locks, working absentmindedly into a braid. She pinned the braid upon her head, glanced at the mirror, then unpinned it. 

It became a back and forth task as she meticulously decided on a hairstyle— she wasn’t usually so vain, but apparently, Prince Jacaerys was arriving for a meeting. She’d spent some time with him the past few moons as they ‘courted’. He was polite, of course, and had grown into himself well since their childhood. But… Shera felt nothing for him, princely charm be damned. And she was increasingly sure he felt the same, more inclined to enjoy the company of Cregan rather than her. 

But that was the way of the world, wasn’t it? To be trapped in a loveless box for titles, for armies and alliances, for oaths— that was fate. And fate… was usually unchanged. Shera oft cursed the Gods, the Old and the New, for weaving her tapestry of life in such a bereft and depressing manner. If she were to look upon it, it’d be dreary and uncouth, not fit to hang upon a wall, destined to rot and mold in a cellar for eternity. 

But what did Shera know of love, anyhow. How could she— for who would love a banshee?

She settled on twin braids that settled upon her back, pinned up into two loops. Adjusting her veil in the mirror and assuring she wasn’t too visible, she made for the door, Moongeist pressed to her. 

The winding halls of Winterfell had become second nature, muscle memory— but her mind wandered, imploring herself to think… Did she remember such paths at the Red Keep? She hoped her memory, if nothing else, would serve her well one day. 

None of the denizens she passed by in the corridors spoke to her, only gave her stiff nods before avoiding her eye line. Was she such an abhorrent sight? Her heels clicked against the stone, fingertips skimming the walls as she stayed close to them, using the familiar winding gait to guide her to the Great Hall. Her stomach grumbled under her tight corset– she hadn’t even had time to break her fast before already being shoved to the dragon’s maw. She heard the whispers of the ‘dashing dragon prince’ arriving early, upon his dragon which was the color of a witch’s brew, green and sprightly. Shera couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she pushed the heavy oaken door to the hall. 

Cregan was there, beard trimmed so as to not be unsightly, and laden in dark aurochs fur. Their ancestral weapon, Ice, was strapped to his back like a second spine, rigid and unyielding. He was faced towards the fire in the hearth, while Jacaerys was to his side, the two already deep in conversation.

The sound of the door opening was as good of an indication of her arrival as she would get, and they both turned to her in tandem. Jacaerys, gallant and princely as ever, rushed to her side, but not before stopping a few paces before, as Moongeist was pressed to her thigh with a wary look in his eye.

“My lady,” Jacaerys exclaimed, flashing his dazzling smile, his brown mop of curls bouncing as he approached, albeit cautiously. “You look radiant as ever.” 

Shera’s brow rose from under her veil– her facial expressions were hardly seen, and she was able to give her unabashed reactions to things quite often. She was woe to master the art of masking, so she simply did not. He called her radiant– an alluring lie if she ever heard one, he couldn’t see her face, how could she possibly be radiant? She presumed his mother had been schooling him in the art of politics. That is what this is, isn’t it? It’s all just… politicking. 

“My prince,” Shera responded softly, giving Moongeist an ever subtle command to sit to the side, allowing Jace to take her arm. She didn’t much like being touched by other people, it made her skin crawl, but she too needed to… continue the charade. “Thank you– you are quite early, I hope I look… presentable.” 

“We were waiting for a bit, Shera,” Cregan commented offhandedly, cracking his knuckles slightly. He was a bit annoyed, she could tell. “But, ladies do take long to get ready, do they not, my prince?” 

“It wasn’t a long wait, no worries,” Jace responded coolly. “But yes, it takes a small army and frequent turning of an hourglass for my mother to finally be ready, I imagine it’s similar for most ladies.”

Ah, yes. As if it doesn’t take Cregan an hour to pick out his furs for the day, pompous ass. And did Jacaerys don himself in that heavy dragonscale plated armor? Doubtful. Shera suppressed the urge to give an indignant huff. “My… deepest apologies,” she murmured. “I do hope my dear brother wasn’t such a terrible conversationalist.”

Cregan snorted as Jace guided Shera to her seat, pushing it in for her. “My mother– she wishes to meet you, of course,” Jacaerys prattled, scooting into the chair next to her (and Cregan). “We are going to go to the Queen for approval for the official betrothal… and subsequent wedding.” 

Shera blinked slowly as she absorbed the information. She expected to have to meet Princess Rhaenyra at some point and for the Queen to become involved in the betrothal– but the wedding? Subsequent? The nail on her pointer finger dug into the nail bed of her thumb idly, picking, picking, picking as she mulled over her next words. “... will the wedding be soon, my prince?” she asked, sneaking a glance at Cregan, who had a glazed over look in his eye.

“... my mother wishes to secure the… union before her ascension, my lady.”

“The King is not yet dead– I don’t understand the rush.” Shera blurted out, her nail sinking deeper into her flesh. She felt like there was some sort of secret she was not a part of, some undisclosed plan that she wasn’t privy to Oh, yes, of course– she was just the pawn, wasn’t she? 

“That is well and true– my grandsire, the King, has been in poorly health for the past few years. It is… only a matter of time.” Jace stammered, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation. 

“Rhaenyra’s ascension will happen sooner than later, Shera. It is only a wish that you and Jacaerys are well bonded by then, mayhaps even producing an heir.” Cregan interjected. 

She wanted to vomit, she wanted to scream, she wanted to lash out at everyone– she was a vessel, a puppet for a greater vision of Westeros that nobody cared if she was specifically a part of– ‘twas only her luck she was the sister of the Warden of the North, who held an amassing army and ferocity for those he was bidden for. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Warmth spread onto her fingertip and Moongeist shuffled at her feet, a low whine coming from the back of his throat. She felt such a rage come over her for a split second, her vision blurring as she felt the overwhelming need to sink her teeth into someone and make them feel her despair. 

“Okay.” she finally said, her voice sounding far away and small, as if it wasn’t even hers.

Jacaerys and Cregan conversated further while Shera stared off into some small point in the distance until her eyes watered from not blinking, blood pooling and staining against her nails. 

“Thank you. I must break my fast now,” Shera suddenly spoke up, not caring if the two of them were in the middle of a conversation. “We will leave within a fortnight.” 

The journey from the hall back to her room was a blur, she remembers curtsying to Jacaerys and bidding him goodbye and some other innocuous pleasantries. Sitting back at her desk, she tore off her veil in frustration, bracelets and earrings alike jingling. She put her head in her hands, feeling the all too familiar ache of tears building. 

She didn’t want to go— why did she have to be married? Why was it her destiny to be a pawn? To be a wife? Especially to someone who was there. Her throat clenched as she tried to hold back the tears— to no avail. They burned and stung, her already tender demeanor withering. 

Prying her hands away, she looked over her desk. It was strewn with miscellaneous books to which she struggled to read, along with some half-done charcoal sketches of prospective sewing projects. Shera wasn’t known for outbursts, as her quiet and ghostly prefecture was one that stayed in the background of things. But, she felt a roiling in her stomach, wrought over like forged castle steel, molten and aching and hot— it burned in her like a plague, working its way through her and exiting her body in the form of a wail, coupled with her arms sweeping off the contents of her desk to the floor. 

The momentary feeling of anguish subsided as soon as it came and her throat ached from her cry. Her eyes felt heavy as she tried to get up and subsequently failed, sinking to the ground like a discarded rag. Moongeist let out a whine, propping his head under Shera’s arm, having her rest some of her weight upon him.

“I’m pathetic, my love,” she whispered, feeling all the part of a fallen porcelain doll, placated on her bottom upon the floor, legs out in front of her as if she were a child on a playroom floor. “Nothing like the Winter Kings of yore. I’m sorry.” Shera’s thumb rubbed on the wolf’s ear as she wallowed momentarily in self-pity and self-loathing. 

Gathering some strength, she pushed the papers below her desk to the side. The sweeping motion befell something new— no, not new. ‘Twas old, upon inspection. It was a stack of letters, covered in dust now, but neatly tied together with wool twine. Unveiling one, she skimmed it over to the best of her ability.

Dearest Shera, 

It isn’t the same without you here. My head hurts all of the time, I keep bumping into things and I can scarcely write. In fact, I am having Helaena pen this to you right now. She says hello. 

Mother is in shambles, frayed at the ends like your old blue dinner dress. Her and grandsire are constantly whispering and she cries more often. I think she misses you. 

As does Helaena. As do I. Mayhaps even Aegon.

Does your head hurt as well? What do you do to help with the pain? Are you able to walk without bumping into things? 

I hope to hear from you soon. 

Best, 

Aemond Targaryen

That had been the first letter sent to her from King’s Landing— Cregan, to his own dismay, sat down and read it to her after she had spinned herself into a crying fit, sending the maesters into a tizzy as she threatened to reopen the stitches upon her throat. 

In her poppy-addled young mind, she hadn’t recognized that it was not Aemond’s writing or words, but most definitely Helaena’s, as the letter Shera sent back were those of Cregan, and not hers. 

Prince Aemond, 

It is an honor to hear from you. I’m recovering quite well, at the behest of my brother. Winterfell is very different from the South, but I am finally finding my footing here in the cold. 

I have been a wolf at heart this entire time, like my forefathers. 

My ability to walk has been improving, as the maesters here are excellently equipped for such a feat. 

It is my hope that we can both find a sense of normalcy in our lives once more. 

I wish you well. 

Regards,

Shera Stark

She’d hardly remembered when Cregan read it aloud, and she didn’t catch the cold, rigid wording, bereft of any warmth and camaraderie that she would have included. Truth be told, at the time of it being written, Shera couldn’t even hold her own spoon to sip at bone broth, much less walk. 

It was unclear to her still, to this day, why Cregan felt the need to lie about her condition— but it was apparently a well placed one, as the next letter to come was in another tone all together. It was about three moons afterward, and the handwriting was different. It was a bit shaky, but proper and dignified. 

Lady Stark, 

I am most gracious for your reply. It is a balm to the Queen to hear you are doing well. 

Let us both hope we are well on the road to our full recoveries. 

Stay warm.

Signed,

Prince Aemond Targaryen

Shera’s fingers traced over the letter, she could still recognize it as Aemond’s handwriting— but the tone seemed clipped and cold, colder than even Cregan’s letter was. 

There were a few more envelopes in the stack, but if she remembered correctly, there was nothing of substance. Her chest ached occasionally when she thought about it all— did Aemond think of her still? Or was she just a silly footnote in his life? She abhorred to admit to herself, much less anyone else, that she still did. Aemond Targaryen still had a place in her mind, an undeterred host in the recesses of her brain that she couldn’t rid herself of— if she even wanted to. She wondered what he looked like now. Was he finally as tall as Aegon, mayhaps more? Did he finally get his hands upon the book he had been wanting to read? She hoped he spent his days flying upon Vhagar’s back— a gift that he had paid the price for. 

She did as well. But her price wasn’t for Vhagar. It was for Aemond.

Her throat burned and constricted with the threat of tears once more as she pulled herself from the floor, Moongeist’s body pressed to her hip to guide her. Padding to the fireplace, which was nursing a few hot coals and sparse flame, she fed the letters into the fire one by one. The flames grew as they burned, the ink upon the pages fettering into nothing but ash and sickly memory. 

Were they strangers now? 

Does he remember her? 

… why does she still wish to see him? 

A wolf travels south at the behest of one dragon– but her mind upon another.

How sordid.

[sleepingdeath-light]

minthara smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; disney anon (02/12/23)

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; minthara

outline ; “I've been summoned by your BG3 request call 🫡 Can you please do some Minthara x reader relationship and smut headcanons?”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, strict dominant!minthara, sadist!minthara, submissive!reader, masochist!reader, bondage, marking kink, pet name kink (mistress), edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, use of sex toys (strap on)

note ; as i’ve never written for minthara until now, her characterisation may be a tad shaky here/worth a future rework lol ^^

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

first things first, but minthara is a strictly dominant person so there’s less than zero chance of you ever getting her to hand over control to you (not even as a type of roleplay) — and not only is she strictly dominant, she’s also a very strict dominant who isn’t afraid to punish you for acting out of line and/or being a brat

though there are occasions where she can appreciate the opportunity to fight you for the right to dominate you — she fell for your strength and capability in battle, after all, so the occasional chance to experience that side of you again is certainly welcome (… so long as you clear it with her first, otherwise she may just see it as you actually being a brat and will punish you accordingly)

she has very specific expectations of you once you two start incorporating a formal dynamic into your bedroom, which includes everything from establishing a thorough and methodical aftercare routine to discussing how she ought to punish you for breaking the rules — each rule has its own sort of punishment, of course, and she’s very particular about having each punishment be suited to the offence committed (e.g. minor infractions and slip ups are met with softer punishments whereas majorly bratting out will have you bent over her knee and punished immediately), and she always makes a point to have you state your ‘crime’ and it’s set punishment in full before moving on to actually punishing you (this is partially to humiliate you and remind you of your place, but it’s also her own way of making sure you understand what’s being done and don’t think you’re being hurt without reason — she may be a sadist, but she’s not that cruel… not with you, anyway)

due to the above mentioned discussions, minthara absolutely excels when it comes to aftercare — loving you and being gentle with you may not come easily to her given her background, but she nevertheless does whatever she can to ensure you’re well taken care of to the best of her abilities: washing you by hand, bringing you filling foods to eat, fetching water, and talking through what happened to ensure she didn’t go too far and that you did actually enjoy yourself no matter how taxing the session was on you

of course she makes a habit of altering/adjusting her punishments based on your limits and boundaries, but if you have no objections to them then her default punishment for severe infractions is as follows: minthara restraining you so professionally and tightly that you can barely move at all, her using her hands and/or strap-on to bring you to the brink of climax and either pulling away entirely to edge you or giving you a completely ruined orgasm, her not stopping until you’re weeping through your words as you beg her to please let you cum/finish properly and promise her to be good, and her finally giving in to your pleas once she’s decided you’ve earned it (or not giving in at all if you were especially bad or bratty beforehand)

as mentioned above, minthara is extremely proficient when it comes to bondage and is more than happy to show off her talents whenever the occasion arises — whether you want something minimal but practical, something to suspend you, or something with a little more flare to keep you in place as she ruins you, she’s more than capable of adapting her style to suit each of your needs and wants in the bedroom

because of how intense sex and foreplay with her can get, she makes sure that you remember every established safe word and action before you two actually do anything — actions in case you’re gagged or too overwhelmed to speak, milder safe words in case you need a break but don’t actually want to stop, fake safe words if you’re participating in a sort of primal play, and an actual safe word if you want her to stop

once you two are in an intimate situation you’re expected to address her as ‘mistress’ lest she have to punish you for your defiance — she may be swayed to let you call her something like ‘mommy’ (or ‘mummy’ depending on your preference) if it’s something that you’re really into and if you’ve been good enough to earn a reward, but her preference will always be towards ‘mistress’

she has a big thing for marking you as hers and will do so however you allow her — whether that means going out of her way to buy you a formal collar once you’re committed to each other, or settling for something a little more primal (welts on your ass/thighs/chest from impact play, bite marks on your neck/chest/stomach, bruises on your hips/thighs/wrists [if bruises show up on you], having you wear something of hers that will fit you, etc.)

(in other words; minthara doesn’t like sharing and makes it clear as soon as possible that you’re hers to use and that others ought to steer clear if they know what’s good for them)

she loves it when you’re vocal and will (lightly) punish you for trying to stay quiet without her explicit permission to do so — whether you lean towards being more quiet (whimpers, panting, whispers), or are much louder in bed (moaning, groaning, crying out), minthara loves it all the same because it lets her know that she’s the only one that is making you be that vocal and she isn’t shy about how much that fact inflates her ego

for her own part minthara is never particularly loud but she is very vocal, making sure to narrate everything she’s doing as she does it (or even just before if you’re blindfolded) and that you’re aware of exactly what she thinks of your current state — sometimes that means straight-faced comments about how obviously aroused you are and how it’s clear you’re enjoying yourself, other times her commentary leans towards being more humiliating/degrading/derogatory, occasionally she’ll slip into her native elvish dialect and you won’t be able to tell what’s actually being said beyond general assumptions based on her actions and her tone, and other times it’s a mixture of the two

very rarely will she outright praise you — only when you’re being exceptionally well behaved/good for her or when it’s clear you’re in dire need of encouragement because of something like sub-drop (it’s just… not in her nature to praise you needlessly, so give her some leniency here)

is definitely appreciative of you making an effort to dress up for her, but she has a strong preference for seeing you in leathers over some impractical frilly number — she can appreciate the intricacy of certain lingerie designs, she’s not oblivious after all, but that doesn’t change her thoughts on the matter

[likeabhosz]

JACEGAN BRAINROT HAS TAKEN OVER, I HAVE TO WRITE THIS DOWN SOMEWHERE SJDJSJDJ

I believe we can rework the pact of ice and fire to fit the show canon, just with a different context. In fact, I think it's necessary to have it to push Cregan and the greater northern army back in action towards the end of the war! Walk with me here -

Conditions

- The Battle of the Gullet should, at earliest, occur mid-season and be replaced with minor battles where the Winter Wolves participate in. Jace and the dragonseeds can fight in these battles before getting called to the Gullet. Despite this, Jace should still be skeptical of the dragonseeds - I imagine he'd learn to like Addam, maybe even Hugh, but I don't see him respecting Ulf anytime soon lol.

- Cregan is among the Winter Wolves at first but has to return to Winterfell at some point so that he can march back with a bigger army for the hour of the wolf (can be before or after Jace dies)

Scenario

- Jace and Cregan can take a bit of time to re-establish their friendship during and in between the smaller battles. Jace finally gets someone to talk to about his fears re: possibly facing his own succession war once his mother passes the crown. Cregan swears allegiance to Jace. He tells Jace that his claim is solid and deserved, but if it came to a war, Cregan would back him. Jace may or may not mention the conqueror's dream - it will definitely be a more convincing reason for the Starks to back Rhaenyra's line, but I personally prefer it if their pact hinged less on prophecy and more on their actual relationship.

- boom, PACT. The conditions for this may or not be the same as in the book tbh. Honestly, it wouldn't matter, it went unfulfilled on Jace's part because he died T__T still, Cregan has so far only promised 2000 men to fight for Rhaenyra - as far as his father's oath is concerned, it has been fulfilled and if he wanted to, he can excuse himself to prepare for winter. A renewed pact with Jace will push him to bring a larger army, both to secure Rhaenyra's reign and the claim of her named heir.

On how Cregan goes back to Winterfell, I imagine two scenarios:

- There are problems up north due to winter. Cregan is compelled by whoever he left in charge to come back and fix things. If he leaves before the Battle of the Gullet, he promises to make good on the pact (Jace and Cregan part and promise to meet on the battlefield, then hunt and feast after the war, optimistic vibes huhu). If it's after, the scenario below can also apply.

- Grief-stricken at what happens to Jace, Cregan himself retreats back to Winterfell to build his bigger army to avenge Jace and end the war. The remaining Winter Wolves stay and support Rhaenyra's army.

I kind of want to work all of this into a fic haha, I wish I had the time, lol.