#he gets reskinned for different things

[synesthete-sylke]

i just need y'all to know that, no matter how i draw scott, this is what he looks like in my brain half of the time for some reason

drew this dude once and he is my now permanent design of c!scott lol

(this is an alternative that i also love to use. actually recognisable as scott but not as funny as Tiny Space Kitty)

[puhpandas]

I'll never get over how fnaf was never put into dead by daylight because scott cawthon was making his own cash grab roblox version

[vampirerite]

tries to keep drawing and dies

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Ares, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

[bloodyshadow1]

I hate the people who say the final battle in Ragenarok was too easy. It wasn't easy, it was a hard battle, but the Bad Kids/Intrepid Heroes did everything right.

There were 8 combatants on the field at the start. 6 of the rat grinders, who had low health but the high level abilities of their classes, and 1 high level full PC, and 1 high level paladin/barbarian multiclass with resistance to everything, legendary actions and resistances, who could deal force damage.

On the Bad Kids side, they were level 14 who had just gone through a battle that exhausted a lot of resources, Fig and Fabian used a couple of spells and bardics and their limited amount of spells, Gorgug used a couple of his rages, Adaine used all of her portents and a bunch of spells, and between ice feast, healing, and removing levels of exhaustion, Kristen and K2 were love on spells. Riz was the only one who was looking pretty decent because he can use sneak attack all day, and even he used one of his 2 3rd level spells.

They were smart though, they Ice Feast was a broken ability for the final battle that Brennan didn't think through when he home brewed it for Ally. Not only did it block Porter's stun which would have been devastating, it made them immune to fire damage on a map with a lot of lava. He didn't think it through and the Intrepid Heroes used it to full effect. Still, it was good for them, but Ice Feast is still just a reskin of Heroes feast with better options but more detrimental effects.

As for the battle itself, the Bad Kids played it smart, it was only due to good initiative rolls that they managed to stomp the rat grinders so hard in the first round. If Oisin got a chance to go, if Mary Ann was outside the range of slow, things would have been different since they had low stats, but level 20 abilities and spells could have wreaked the Bad Kids. It wasn't an easy fight, but it was a fight with an intentional purpose, the Bad Kids are good at being adventurers while the Rat Grinders took the easy way out and showed the different between being powerful and being strong. They took out the primary caster first as you should do in big pc vs pc battles like this, they made sure to target groupings of enemies with AOEs and crowd control, they made sure to support each other and disrupt their enemies support. It wasn't easy, but they are good at dnd so they made it look easy.

I've seen people say, 'Brennan should have x' and no he shouldn't have. He created a hard combat encounter, but his players did everything right this season, a DM shouldn't punish or railroad their players just because their players are good at the game. No, the players stop the big bad from being released so they don't have to fight them, the DM shouldn't just make the Ancient God break through the bindings just because they planned for that encounter. The players won before it started and they should be rewarded for that.

'the rat grinders should have had a back up plan.' The Rat Grinders did have a backup plan. The initial plan to get Kipperlily fairly elected failed, and the back up plan, when that didn't work, the backup plan was to get Kristen expelled so she couldn't run. When that didn't work they sent the Bad Kids, their allies, and anyone who would vote for Kristen into the sky, flew them miles away, and sicced a horde of dragons and a goddess on them to kill them or at the very least get them out of their hair for 1 night so their plan could work. The Bad Kids beat their plans every time so no, there was no reason to have a 4th backup plan in the final battle. Brennan is a good DM, he didn't make the Rat Grinders and Porter's plan work because it was stopped before it started with the fake goddess name. He didn't punish his players for being good at the game and their strategy is great.

Things could have gone so differently with a slight change or a big change. If Fig didnt' decide to try and be a paladin on a whim, things would have been completely different, they wouldn't have had a connection with Ankarna. If Adaine didn't take Legend Lore they wouldn't have found out about Porter, maybe they would have still gotten the background on Ankarna, but not about his family revealing the Big Bad early on. If they chose to do something else with the power they got from the pride armor, they wouldnt' have the gem to free Bakur or save Lydia meaning no back up in the final fight. What if Gorgug rolled lower on one of his artificer tracks, they might not have passed the last stand. What if Fabian choose to keep pursing Ivy instead of Mazey, would have have been killed by the Rat Grinders or would Mazey have been compelled to their side if he didn't try and romance her. If Riz ran for president instead of Kristen would he have been less stressed or more inclined to focus on that instead of mystery his true love. What if Kristen didn't eat the eye of the Vulture king at the right time and catch Kipperlily about to murder Gavin forcing her to change her target to Buddy.

And it worked against them too. What If Fig didn't inspire Cassandra and knock her out leading her to become the Nightmare King again? What if Adaine didn't counterspell Grix's disintegrate on Ruben, he might have been a pile of dust that would have been hard to impossible to bring back to life disrupting the Rat Grinder's plan. What if Kristen decided to not get upset at Cassandra forcing the Goddess to recreate Kalina. What if Adaine didn't say Ankarna's name outloud the first time she saw it? What if Fig didn't make the deal to have a second chance sealing the Night Yorb? What if Riz and Gorgug did relationship tracks with their families making it harder to do their other tracks. What if Fabian cleaned his house even once and got rid of the pingpong balls that Oisin enchanted to screw them over. What if Riz had time to focus on mystery from the start instead of running Kristen's campaign for her and taking more stress.

There were so many times that things could have gone so much better or so much worse, but that's what the game is. There is no script that says the good guys have to keep losing until they win. It's decisions and dice, luck and wits that make the game. It was a very hard season, the battles were very hard, just because they made the right decisions to make things easier on themselves doesn't change that. It doesn't make the season bad. You're welcome to not like it, but nothing about it was easy and people shouldn't pretend like it was because they don't like it

[sylvaridreams]

I'm going to try and word this better than I did at 1 am venting on cohost last night, and maybe slightly gentler. I haven't finished the SotO update from yesterday. I got home, played for a couple of hours, did some meta on the current map, triiiiied to get myself to go back to story... and I couldn't.

I was BORED. It was quite honestly boring. Any dialogue that matters is Peitha talking to her people. I am a stage prop that occasionally vocalizes expositional questions and fires arrows at grunt mobs.

I could physically feel myself losing any remaining interest in the story as I clicked "what does this mean? What do you think of Peitha's plan?" type questions (which offer a poor illusion of choice in conversation. Look! Dialogue options! You can click all of these in any order you like but you must click them all!)

Why should I care about this story? I'm being brought along as the muscle that Peitha doesn't really need. I'm not offering anything special I'm terms of skill. I'm not an invaluable resource. I'm not even being utilized as the leader that gw2 has ALWAYS made me! It's always been "You're out there leading the armies, commanding all the way from the front line to the supply chains!" Now I'm just kind of around. Run a few events and come back. Characters refer to me and I apparently have no in-game response. MY CHARACTER doesn't seem invested.

And so many new characters. Every drop, it's like, have a bunch more named people! I was learning names during drop 1, and know some of the Wizards off the top of my head, but honestly I’m not bothering anymore. Why should I? Even if Nexus isn't killed off in the next chapter I play, I'm never going to meet this character again after he stops serving the story.

And where IS the story? Where is the meat? Drop 1 was at least interesting to me. Secret society hiding demons from the Commander. Getting sucked into this strange and horrifying place. Getting the life beat out of Alba by a hulking, terrifying demon and crawling away in fear. Escaping into the arms of strangers and getting this unknown voice in Alba's head, talking to him, saying what he wanted to hear, teasing him. Him refusing to tell anyone she was in there, because he *trusted this unknown voice in his head over all these strangers.* The story lulled a lot and it wasn't like... prime gw2 content. But it had a few hooks. When in Amnytas, Alba GASPED "Peitha!" right outside of the next story step and said "I can *see* you," and I turned my camera and saw what I knew, what Alba had to have suspected, confirmed. That there was a demon using his mind as a lounge. THAT was a moment, it was SOMETHING!

At least it was fun at points, at least there was some small amount of intrigue and mystery. And from there it was all just, "take a backseat, Wayfinder. This isn't YOUR story." I'm getting nothingburger bites out of each new story drop. Oh we went into Nayos to take the fight to them and killed Peitha's model reskin cousin. Anything else that drop? Anything? No but next time we recruited some general to fight with us! Can I get a smidgen of story? Something to hang onto? The only thing this drop that hasn't been "Don't care didn't ask plus I've seen your character model elsewhere" was Alba being called "that ugly creature" by a kryptis.

That's all I've got. I'm not enjoying it. I don't like SotO. And it is not for lack of trying it, it's not because i just don't like change and don't wanna see something new and different! This expansion feels like an empty parody of Guild Wars 2, and it feels like a slap in the face to anyone who was invested in Tyria. Pre-release they really hyped up that "It's time for new places and new people! We're gonna get a new cast and explore a vast new world!" I CARED about that world, which we still had SO MUCH left to explore. Are the borders of the map even the ends of the world of Tyria or does it keep going? Who cares. There's shit going on above the clouds. I cared about those CHARACTERS. Does Alba get to see people that he loves and cares about ever again? Is he making it to the wedding? Does he get a chance to go home and see anyone? Like yes we are not chained up in the Tower between instances, we can still play the game in those old maps, but the characters have been written out of the story.

And frankly these new ones are shitty replacements. I don't care about these people. I maybe had some small amount of "OK cool its Zojja I know her!" but it's not like I had any deep care or feeling for her. Not personally. Peitha was interesting at first but being brought along as part of her nameless, faceless grunt entourage has made me lose a lot of interest. She's not going to be a core character post-SotO. She either dies at the end, or takes over as King, and at best becomes a very occasional callback. "Ah, King Peitha! It's been some time, how is Nayos!" She's not going to reclaim the throne and then ignore rebuilding her people's infrastructure to hang out in Commander’s brain all day or join them on quests. We are a temporary ally and a stepping stone for her story.

Which sucks.

In terms of the rest of the SotO cast, it again feels like a pale imitation of prior Gw2 content. Like they're saying "remember season 1, meeting all those people one by one who would become your best friends and allies in life? 🤔 " and then they didn't even do it that way. Season 1 was a gradual introduction to these characters that you were given time, story, and Reason to care about. If Braham, Rox, Marjory, Kasmeer, Taimi, Rytlock, and Canach had all shown up and said "oh we're the Best Friends Patrol. Come along with us stranger!" I would have felt like a tag along. Not an equal in the group. Instead we met on level ground. We became a team together, we became friends together, each of us a vital part.

Which is opposite to how it feels now. These characters have deep history going back AGES. I just showed up, no one respects me, I'm not privy to any information or details on who is who and why should I care, I don't Get story time to ACTUALLY hang out and meet these people and develop my OWN relationships with them. When I leave, they will not care. I'm just being brought along like a lost kid at this point, until we reach customer service and they can drop me off, or until I wander away and find another deep group to follow.

I don't like this story. I don't like the setting. I don't like the characters or the group dynamic. I don't feel like an EQUAL in this expansion, I don't feel like I matter. Anyone could stand here and ask supporting questions to drive the dialogue between the 2-3 characters that actually matter, which again, does not include me.

And FRANKLY I hate that no one can say anything that isn't glowing praise of GW2 and Anet and every little detail is just scrumptious don't worry I love it, without a bunch of vague posts filtering in about "so much Negativity, everyone is a HATER, you just don't support The Writers and want them to FAIL, well then stop playing the game and delete your account and blog and go away forever, REAL fans LOVE nothingburger" to shun whoever dared say "I didn't like some or all of it." I'm happy for you if you're liking SotO but I am not. I'm sorry if you don't understand that criticizing something that I've played for a decade doesn't mean I hate it. I'm sorry if you can't take the MILD CONFLICT of me or someone else saying "I love this thing that you love too but I don't like how the new part feels" but most of us learned about conflict in kindergarten or at least through children's picture books and TV, so idk. Maybe you just need to cope at that point.

As it stands I don't like the expac. I don't see Anet turning it around and blowing my mind with the ending. And I really don't even care how it ends. I was asked the other day "how are you going to handle Peitha?" (in terms of the canon that I write, which has already moved past the end of SotO.) And frankly I was like. I dunno. It doesn't matter to me. She's either dead or on the throne, I don't care much either way. We could get the huge plot twist at the end that Peitha was the big bad or Isgarren or WHOEVER THE FUCK, and I wouldn't care. None of this matters to me. I'm going back to Tyria with my writing. The rest is filler.

[eisfreiesspeiseeis]

My Wakfu Season 4 Head Canon / Theory / Manic ramblings

I don't know if someone else already made a post about this, if yes, please direct me to it, anyway strap in:

So, what has always bothered me about the MMO Eliotropes was their weird skin tone and markings.

Remember, they were added to the game(s) before season 3 and the OVA were even out and all we knew about them was this blurb:

Having appeared via a freak accident, Eliotropes are but mirror images of their creator, the King-God.

I don't know wether this was confirmed back then, but we all just accepted that Yugo was the King-God. He was the King of the Eliatropes, he was a demigod, it made sense. We just didn't know what exactly this accident was yet. And that was the first time I got way too hung up on their skin color. (Some people might claim they don't see color, but not me.) I came up with 2 explanations: Explanation 1: This was how Yugos God-King-Form would look like

So in Season 2, when Qilby gets the Eliacube, his skin color changes and he gets these black markings;

While Yugo just gets these glowing tattoos in his "Eaxalted" form, which do, however, look kinda similar. Also during his transformation, Qilby's tats would glow at first, just like Yugo's, before turning black.

This let me to assume (all these years ago) that Qilby's transformation (which the Wiki calls "Lobotimized" for some reason) was the more evolved form of Yugo's. I basically tought while Yugo just unlocked Super Saiyan, Qilby could go Super Saiyan 2. And at some point, Yugo would archieve a similar form too, which would be when he became the God-King, and that was why the Eliotropes all had white skin and blue markings. (I just thought Yugos tats would turn blue instead of black because ykno, color schemes and stuff.)

Also there was this Krosmaster Mini called Yugo unleashed, so I thought this was the direction they were going:

Explanation 2: Their skin markings look like Adamai's

You know, this guy. With the white skin / scales and the blue markings.

In hindsight the easier explanation. Adamai is Yugo's twin brother, so it would make sense if the Eliotropes had an imprint of Adamai. Or maybe Adamai helped in whatever accident created the Eliotropes. The brothers already combined their powers a few times to do BIG MAGIC, so maybe that would also be the case for the "accident".

Then the OVA came and Yugo got the six Dofus

It all made sense in my mind. With the six Dofus, Yugo was more powerful than a god, so this would be when he reached his King-God-Form and...

It kinda just looked like his normal "Exalted Form" with different markings. Okay, I thought, so it has to be the Adamai explanation, right?

Then Season 3 and the Oropo OVA came and...

These guys don't look like the Eliotropes we knew until that point at all.

Okay,

maybe they changed the designs so Amalia would recognise Oropo as Yugo?

maybe as more Eliotropes died, they started to look more like Yugo/white people?

Either way, it's super weird that we have never seen a game-looking Eliotrope in the show or even in the OVA.

Also, aside from Oropo the other Eliotropes we see seem to be super variant from Yugo, with some missing the head-thingies and others not even able to create portals, it seems (Repulse dies because he gets thrown off the tower. I think he would have saved himself if he could). In the game however, the Eliotropes seem to be pretty much just reskinned (ha!) Eliatropes with all the same, maybe watered down powers.

Okay, so the rational thing would be to just accept that they retconned the Eliotropes for the show a bit, as there was quite a long break in production. Or just accept it as one of these wird things, like Osamodas evolving to have blue skin in at most a few hundred years.

Ankama has changed designs drastically all the time between media, they really don't like to enslave themselfes to esthetics and and hard lore and really if you think about it does that not give them so much more potential for creat

AND THEN CAME SEASON 4

Spoilers up til episode 10, I guess And the season starts with a reminder that the Eliotropes were created because Yugo did not have perfect control over them and who gets their grabby hands on all 6 (six) of them?

This guy

Notice how his markings are blue now? Hmmm...

"But Qilby should have far more control over the Dofus than Yugo, that's his thing, he has so much experience!", the strawperson said. Yes, but Qilby is also mentally unstable and hyper traumatoze, which he says himself.

He repeatedly has episodes, even while he is using to the dofus.

Also, attuning to the Eliasphere was super taxing and clearly outside of his abilities (as he says himself), so what I want to say is:

there were multiple occasions where he could have slipped up and created his own "accident".

Qilby is the King-God of the Eliotropes from the MMO.

Yugos accident resulted in the creations of eliotropes because

AND QILBY'S GREATEST FEAR IS TO BE ALONE, so it would make sense that his "wish" would also create more "family" for him.

This would also explain some of the differences between show Eliotropes and MMO Eliotropes:

Obviously, the MMO Eliotropes look far more like Qilby's true(?) form, with snow-white skin and blue markings.

Yugo did not really have a great idea what his people were actually like, which explains why his Eliotropes would have so much variance in appearance and power between them. In contrast, Qilby has the most perfect memory of the Eliatrope people in existence, arguably better than the Goddess' herself, considering her millennia-long absence. So it would make sense why his Eliotropes would basically be perfect copies, sans the skin color. Also, despite his mental health, he is still far more skilled than Yugo, which could also explain why his copies are closer to the real deal.

Also, Yugo's Eliotropes (mostly) have his memory, which seems like a thing that would like... come up? Like, at all? And it would make sense that Qilby's "wish" would include for his Eliotropes to be blank slates memory wise, since his recollection of his former lifes is literally the cause of all his suffering.

I rest my case.

In all honesty, this is all probably just a case of Ankama being all loosey-goosey with their lore, especially between the show and the games. But this theory presents a way for the MMO Eliotropes (or Qilby Eliotropes, as I will call them from now on) existing in the same canon as the show, which otherwise is probably the biggest canon "problem". Also, I like the Eliotropes, I like their design, and I like to have a reason to believ they will continue exist somewhere in this funny world some horny frenchmen made up. So, yeah this is my headcanon. First post ever on tumblr, after lurking for over a decade, please be kind to it. See ya when I have to vent my next crackpot theory. Or when I remember interesting parts from the MMO that might interest show-only folks.

[merp0515]

Healing Past Scars Ch.1 Blind Belief

Summary: After the dealing with so many traumatic incidents, our beloved meme guardain boys have to come into terms with both past and present scars. Will they be able to conquer them with an iron fist or will those same wounds destroy them both?

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts,PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Healing , Developing Relationship

Link to my previous post with other fanfic places I posted this fic at is here!

TW: The following story contains dark themes such as PTSD, and disturbing imagery.

   It was raining hard late into the night at the showgrounds. Everyone was fast asleep in their respective rooms peacefully except for one. Four had just finished editing his latest video, ready to call it a night. He gets up from his chair and stretches his body. He changes into his PJs and hops to his bed and closes his eyes to forget reality for a moment.

Fog clouds Four's vision as he tries to watch where he was stepping. He looks around cautiously, trying to figure out his location. He looks ahead to see a silhouette of something he couldn't put his finger around.

"Hello! Can you help me figure out where I am? I'm a little lost here!" He shouted at the shadow from a distance. The shadow doesn't reply. The guardian walks towards the mysterious figure, his brows scrunched in irritation as the silence between the two thickens. The fog slowly clears up the more SMG4 gets closer to the figure. The figure's shadow clears as Four gets close, stopping dead in his tracks. His eyes widen seeing a person he hasn't seen in a while......Desti.

Desti looks at Four coldly. Her octarian eyes staring deep into his soul. Four could feel himself sweating as the scene changed to where she had died but something was different. Four looked down to see the very sword that killed her, pierced into his heart. He instantly felt everything at once. The pain, no way of breathing, and the shockwave his body felt as he kneeled down before her.

"If only you had been quicker with realizing that anime trash was behind me, I would have been still alive and Meggy wouldn't have gone through such a traumatic event." She spoke with such venom in her mouth. Four began coughing up blood as it started to spread on his overalls. He looks down in shame, looking at his hand, shaking tears threatening to come out.

"I...I was trying to save everyone." He managed to say before the scene and the person changed again. He closes his eyes, feeling himself glitch into the transition. He notices the sword that was previously on his chest disappear and holds on to his chest, anxiety slowly kicking in as he is back in the god box. More specifically, where they first met the real SMG0 and Niles.

He looks up to see the sky, remembering the mixture of colors where they fought Eldritch Zero and almost dying in the void of the box with Mario and SMG3. He hears a dark chuckle, snapping himself back and gasps in horror as he sees both his avatar and his guardian partner's Mario reskin covered in many injuries.

"MARIO! SMG3!" Four screams in terror and he runs towards the two but is cut short due to something landing between him and the lifeless bodies. He looked closer to see the thing that stopped him was none other than Melony in her Fierce Deity form.

"M-melon-" Four began to say before Melony cuts him off from speaking further. Her bubbly tone was replaced with a more serious and angry tone.

"Why?" She began, her face twisting into an angered expression that scared the shit out of the meme guardian.

"Why are all the bad things happening to us while you only get so little pain? Are we just characters that you can just play with their emotions and screw them over whenever you want?" The melon Deity says, her voice shaking from the tears that came out with her grief. 

"It's a shame really." Another voice rang as the two original guardians appeared in between Melony. Zero looks away, not looking at the heartbroken Four. The teary eyed guardian looks to her right and growls in anger as Niles stares at him with a smug ass smile on his face.

"And yet with your best intentions, have you ever stopped to wonder if you ever did more harm than good?" Niles asked in a taunting tone.

Four's eyes widen in rage as he runs to the trio going head on towards Niles screaming angrily. Both Niles and Zero disappeared at the same time and fell to the ground right in front of Melony. He looks up in horror to see the two merged into their Eldritch version behind her staring him down emotionlessly. She picks up the blue hero effortlessly as the male struggles to get away from her grasp.

"M-melony please.....listen to me.", SMG4 tearfully said, feeling his face wet with tears.

Melony opens her mouth to speak to Four before throwing him into the abyss. But instead, the voice of the monster behind her spoke in her body as he was thrown far into the next place.

"P A T H E T I C."

Screams were heard in the void. Four felt like he was flying into the void for an eternity when suddenly felt himself going downwards to something.....and he was going down at the speed of light. Four shields himself, shutting his eyes tight as he was embracing for impact that never came.

Zero

One

Two

Three

Four

He counted to himself as he tried to calm himself down. He waited for anything to tell him he was either alive in his dream or awake back in his new room. Sounds of the keyboard echos in his ears as he opens his eyes immediately wondering where this nightmare had taken him this time. He looks around the room he was in. His heart racing, realizing where he is. Back to the beginning, where it all began. Four's breath quickens as he watches his 2022 self glued to the computer, his room a mess along with his restless appearance he had the day he snapped at his friends for turning off the wifi.

"It's crazy isn't it?" He heard a familiar voice from the shadows. Four jolts up in surprise to his friend Axol sitting on his old bed, looking at him with sadness and pity. The axolotl looks back to the older design, a frown intact on his face.

"I was once the world's best mangaka. I had it all. Fame, fans, people that adored all my hard work and enjoyed all of what I brought to the table. Meeting you all and going through all the insane near death experiences changed my life." Axol said with a heartbroken tone.

"A-axol please..... I-I'm sor-"Four weakly tries to apologize to his friend and carefully walks towards him.

"YOU APOLOGIZE?! AFTER BEING DEAD FOR ALMOST THREE YEARS ONLY NOW YOU CHOOSE TO APOLOGIZE?!" Axol screamed at Four with such rage. Four immediately stopped approaching and jolted in surprise, seeing him in such a state. Axol's body changed from his original form to the second stage of the time "Zero" possessed him.

"I NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE TRUE ROMANCE AND GO ON PROPER DATES! INSTEAD OF THAT, THE GIRL I FEEL FOR HAD TO KILL ME!!!" He shouts more aggressively. Four fell to his knees, looking down in shame. Letting his dead friend chew him out with his words.

The ground beneath him changes again to the outside of where the castle once was. Four looks up to the empty space before him. His guilt kicks into high gear as he lets his tears fall out and hugs himself in pain. He drowned out all the audio in the current setting he was in that he didn't hear someone walking towards the weeping male. He stops his tears for a moment to see a familiar shoe that had a skull on the side standing in front of him. Four lifts his upper body to see his ex rival looking at him. His face was unreadable as Four felt his lips shiver as the other male kneeled in front of him.

"Just like when I almost died during the 10th year anniversary party and during the god box incident. I almost died during Mario day.... didn't I?" Three spoke with pure fear in his eyes. The final glitch changes from the old castle to Three's Coffee N' Bombs where it was infested with snails. Four's eyes widened in fear and looked behind him to see a scribbled out face of Mario petting one of the snails. The blue guardian could feel himself tearing again as he felt Three's hand gently grab his face to see him. Seeing the way the other meme guardian stared at him shattered his soul, making him cry on the spot. Three's eyes changed from his warm ruby colored eyes to the yellow colored eyes, his skin and hand covered in black veins.

"Can you imagine what that's like?", Three gulped as he felt his own tears coming out seeing his partner cry. "To be completely and utterly failed.....time and again....by someone that meant the world to you..." 

Four shot up from his bed drenched in sweat. His entire body was shaking from what he just experienced. He shakily covered his face with his hands, his sobs echoing in the blue man's room. He cursed the loud pouring rain outside for creating such a horrible nightmare. All he wanted was to create a new home for everyone after everything was said and done. Is having a peaceful life in his new home really hard to have? 

In the meantime he'll have to do what he always did when this recurring nightmare happened. Hold himself close and let his tears out until there's nothing left so he can sleep.

[thanatika]

pathologic 3 thoughts... i almost made a post awhile ago about hoping that they incorporate frostpunk-like gameplay mechanics into the bachelor remake, if they really are going all in on getting rid of the fps survival elements and adding more town management and resource sim elements. and now i'm mad that i never actually wrote it, because it seems like pathologic 3 is going to be incorporating frostpunk-like mechanics into its town management. "shape their lives with your decrees" and all that.

though one resource that frostpunk never really deals in is currency, and i hope they lean on that for dankovsky's town management mechanics. in that long dev post back in 2022 or something, i remember an offhand mention about getting rid of the survival elements because dankovsky's position means he shouldn't have to struggle for food, healing items, or money... and for one thing, pathologic classic has him struggle easily without it feeling unrealistic, so i think they might as well have just said "we wanted to do something original instead of a reskin of the previous game" and left it at that. but with money specifically... even if dankovsky is put in control of funds due to his position (which he canonically is, there was just no fleshed out mechanic for it in the first game) the bigger question would be how to effectively use them? based on the original game, the amount of medicine and food and money was never quite enough, even when the town's nobility would finally hand it over after trying to ignore the problem. so you have access to resources, the real painful challenge comes from having to allocate them, whether it's an equal distribution that isn't enough to help anyone at all, or an unequal distribution where some are left out.

i'm imagining something like The Fund in pathologic 2, which was a very barebones mechanic of just "heal more people = get more money". the bachelor route is possibly going to be more hands on in its management, and more incriminatory towards you if resources run scarce due to mistakes or mismanagement.

and as for dankovsky's own survival, well, i guess he could be sitting pretty if he has access to all of the resources, and can just take however much he needs off the top. that's certainly what npcs are accusing him of doing throughout both games and the dlc. but is that really in character for him? you certainly have the option to do that, most explicitly with taking lara's money and running on day 2. but personally i think that characterization makes less sense than him trying to distribute as much as possible. not because i think he's such a great guy, but because:

a) why does the first game have so many side quests that hinge on him agreeing to go put his own life at risk and his own mission on hold just to save someone else for 0 reward, if it's out of character for him to do it? like taking over from all the ladies who agreed to test medicines, or going and getting shot at by soldiers to save the father of two random kids. what a waste of writing and scripting, if he really isn't "supposed" to do those things.

b) even if he doesn't give a shit about the town or its people (which his dialogue and quest logs imply he does care, up to a point), his whole purpose in trying to stop the plague is that it's his mandate from the powers that be, with the promise that they'll restore his lab to him if he succeeds. his lab that he canonically values so much that he equates losing it to his own death or suicide, all the way back from day 1. yeah, i think he'd deprive himself if he thought the resources might make the difference between saving it or not.

so i think that's also important to keep in mind for his motivations, because especially if they do end up removing the pressures of surviving against hunger and combat, the tension is kinda lost if we're supposed to think that he actually doesn't care about what he's trying to save, at least in the beginning.

[ganondoodle]

I was at first in love with totk, and I still think mechanical wise, its quite impressive

And when I collected all the tears and saw the "story" I genuinely got upset in a good way (at first), because man! Did they really got the balls to go that far? Is there nothing I can do for her? Now I MUST do all the temples, see how it plays out and --oh, I've got this cutscene already. Why are all the people so dumb about Zelda, I KNOW where she is, Link say something-- Link??

After finishing all the temples and almost falling asleep, I stopped playing the game, looked up the last boss and remaining cutscenes and went "Thats it?"

Watching other people (including you) being critically about so many things, both character and mechanical wise, I've almost startled myself with a realization what the gnawing feeling I constantly had, actually was.

Totk feels like a fanfic.

And don't get me wrong, I love fanfiction, I think its great and important, I adore fanfic writers, I love finding gems, I love reading self indulgent stories, see new spins and interpretation of characters. I love the casual, the passion, the creativity!

But totk gives me the same feeling everytime I am reminded that Fifty Shades is a Twillight fanfic.

The world is there. The faces I know and grew to love are there. But everything is ever so slightly different, uncannily so. Just how some characters talk, how they act, how they were placed in the story. The Zonai appearing out of nowhere, but no, they always had been there you see, they were these super magical advanced people but they all died, the king is so tragic. And you see, the king is super cool and powerful and-- oh I dont get to interact with him outside of the tutorial. Did they try to do another King Rhoam-- but wait, that only worked because we didn't knew he was a ghost-- totk wait stop why do you take him out of the story, why couldn't he be a companion, he IS ABLE TO TALK THROUGH THE ARM LET THE OLD GOAT COMMENT ON STUFF?? If you bring up all this ancient stuff and you still got a ghost lingering, let him talk?? (I never ended up getting Mineru but I smell wasted potential as well)

Im not even mad, I am disappointed. It feels like the devs saw what all the lore hunters got attached to and talked about and then just... took the "cool". All the Zonai stuff could've easily been Sheikah tech, but got just reskinned to look more exciting instead of being its own thing.

Like... at this point I prefer what fans are doing over what Totk gave us. The characterization of Rauru (and everything Zonai), projects like you do of what totk couldve been, the little nuggets of actual highlights and details of love fans find in the game. I found much more enjoyment in these concepts than I got from a 70bucks game. And thats depressing.

I love fanfiction. I dont love it when my corporate 70 dollar, six year development, console exclusive game feels like a story that passionate fan couldve written miles better in a week (and I've already seen much cooler and interesting rewrites and ideas).

Zelda has been a huge part of my childhood and its depressing seeing it treated like that. It always was about the story, the epic, its The Legend of Zelda for crying out loud. To be courageous to enter a dungeon, to be wise and solve all the riddles. To become powerful over the journey you embarked on. Zelda to me is the campfire story you tell to others and go into the woods or the beach and imagine what monsters you would slay. Zelda is not the sandcastle you build in the sandbox and then add dinosaurs and star wars ships because you didn't had any other toys, and just stumble into and over some story to entertain yourself until lunch is ready.

I'd have an oracle of seasons over another totk any day at this point. They should've just make the mechanics of totk its own thing, but I guess they were scared it wouldn't sell if it doesn't have a Mario or Zelda skin straped over it.

Anyways, sorry for the mini rant - love your art, love your thoughts and insights, and I am looking forward to see more of it - Zelda related or not (your original characters look amazing, I adore your style sm)

Hope you have a great rest of the day!

*nods along through this entire rant*

idk how many of my rants you have read but yeah ... yeah ... and the further you think about it the further it all falls apart, the wasted potential of it all and the goddamn audacity of them to do those interviews in which they make it EVEN WORSE is just

i know the expectation for a direct sequel to botw was huge and understandbly so but i really REALLY think it would not have been that hard to make it a good follow up even taking into account that totk was originally a DLC, pretty much all of botws aspects could have been developed further, i dont know what could have happened to make totk have turned out like this .. literally it feels like something had to have gone wrong, its like someone who doesnt know zelda nor botw at all was given a few prompts and then just made some generic fantasy story while the rest worked on ultrahand for 5 years

the technical impressive things ARE technical impressive, but i dont think it was necessary nor served the game well in any way (and i LOVE building games- however totk is neither a building game nor a story game nor a zelda game nor an exploration game nor a sequel imo) but zelda, this zelda, is not made for that and i cant help but think it was mainly to encourage people to make some ridiculous mechs so it can go viral on tiktok (not trying to discredit them, it IS cool what they are doing but i .... have my doubts if zelda is the right place for that)

ill stop there bc i have ranted so much about everything i dont wanna repeat it here again; it just doesnt feel like a real game (derogatory), it feels extra bad bc i was not really into zelda when botw came out and while i did get it as soon as i could (months after release since i just started a minijob and didnt have the money) i only over time grew to love zelda this much again, devouring any theories and anything about it bc i loved it so much- i was never into it like this when a new title was announced and dont own any special editions so i bought the totk collectors bc i was just so damn excited for it after the 2019 trailer dropped (god i want that time back ... it looked so much more like it was going to be an actual sequel) even if i was already worried it wouldnt be good at that point given how much i started to sense stuff i dont like about the newer trailers

i recently sold it at our local gameshop bc it was like a thorn in my side given how expensive it was and how dissapointed i was in the game, i genuinely think that, technical impressiveness aside, totk is the onyl zelda i truly cannot stand (for alot of reasons) and im genuinely worried for the future of the franchise

i bought an Oki (Okami) figurine for what i got back and i feel much happier with that :3

(also on a note, i did finish the game two weeks after release but stopped playing it right then and hadnt touched it since, i also streamed all of what i played and its still up if you want to see my slow descend into madness fjkdhkdhjk though its been a long while since then and i by far did not talk about everything back then, just what my most immediate frustrations were while still playing)

(also the gameplay isnt as good as people make it out to be, so much is so frustrating and punishing to use i am kinda baffled it got through like that and most people call that its best aspect ..... though i guess if the rest is so much worse even mid gameplay can seem good ooooooooh how dare i)

also thank you for liking what i do!!! <3 it means alot to know it is appreciated by someone :D

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

OKAY IT'S HERE. MOVIE SHADOW THOUGHTS.

I'll be perfectly honest, there was bits in the trailer I'm iffy on - mostly on Gerald being... alive thing but never mind that, that's for a different conversation. Shadow on the other hand, while I wish we got him to speak more presentation wise? Perfect. Clean. 10/10. Raw. Oh my god they got him so right, this is so much of an improvement over the teaser in movie 2 which was confirmed to be just a temporary reskinned Sonic model.

He looks SO ANGRY!! And it's clear by the fact Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails are being tasked by GUN to fight him instead of Sonic being framed that we are not getting a one-to-one SA2 adaptation which I thought would be obvious to begin with even before the trailer confirmed it but then.... there's twitter. But even with the loose SA2 basis it makes so much sense for him to be shown so fucking angry in literally every screenshot he's in and not in the 2010's edge to be edgy and the writers had no idea how to write Shadow way here it's so clear there's so much going on here in his head there's a tirade and it's going to be so much of a struggle for Sonic and Co. to bring him down I CAN'T WAIT.

Also is it just me but something with his design seem more... Black Arms-ish to you? I mean more in the quills which always had that shape but maybe it's more detailed but it just... sticks out that way. And I don't think it's a stretch either with what's going on with Shadow Gens and the Black Doom acknowledgment and powers and stuff and it being confirmed the writers are taking stuff not just from SA2 but Shadow 05 (and I think heroes?) for the movie so? Idk maybe something will come up with it we'll just have to see.

[starsreminisce]

Your post got me thinking with your latest post. It’s one of the reasons why I really don’t ship Azriel and Elain. There isn’t anything redeemable about how he treats the women he’s into. I think there is a very similar attraction to Mor that we’ve seen with him even though we didn’t get his POV on that one. It’s lust, it feels superficial. And it’s kind of a weird parallel that Cassian got with Mor, not Azriel, and now Cassian got a second sister, not Azriel. To me this entire thing reeks of jealousy and desire to be like his brothers. I don’t want to demonise Azriel, I really like him as a character and who can’t relate to this feeling of not being enough when your brothers are doing so much better? But the problem with Azriel is that this type of attraction reads as kind of a strange hyperfixation, it’s not really about the girl he’s selected, it’s more so about the feeling of wanting to belong. With Elain, I feel like that would simply scratch that itch. Of course, she is beautiful and she is attractive, but that’s all Azriel thinks about plus his desire to be like his brothers. It’s not really about Elain, it’s about him. I think that’s why Lucien and the smell of their bond triggers him so much. @acourtofthought pointed out that other couples’ bonds could be smelled too and I think in this case Azriel is lashing out at Lucien for taking the third sister. It’s really not about who Elain is as a person or who Lucien is as a person. Azriel said he could easily defeat Lucien or whatever, but that also didn’t consider Elain. We don’t know how she’d take it if her mate was murdered, even if they weren’t close.

Another thing about Azriel is that he’s quite competitive (look at the snowball fight lol). The fact that he doesn’t have a mate might weigh on him because he’s the only one, he’s missing out on something his brothers have etc.

And I think that’s kind of the reason why Gwyn would be perfect for Azriel. It’s a natural attraction that’s not filtered through all this brother/sister bs that puts him in this competitive state. With Elain I feel like the objective of his desire is to become more like his brothers. Elain is a vessel for that. Whereas with Gwyn he could simply develop a friendship (already happening), Gwyn is removed form the inner circle just enough that she’s still around him but not to a degree where he can measure her up against big standards that he placed on himself for no reason.

"Women are only there for the males" is an argument the antis like to swing towards Eluciens, and I beg to differ, especially when they never talk about what Azriel can offer Elain. Instead, they focus on the rough life Azriel had and the current struggles of inadequacy he feels, as though Elain is a bandaid to help him fix that.

To me, this suggests they haven't absorbed any of SJM’s books.

Most E/riel theories are Elucien or Gwynriel reskins, morphing Azriel or Elain to be Lucien or Gwyn, and that's not the message SJM puts out.

Nesta never truly lost that snarky side of her, and Cassian loves her for that. She may have felt she wasn’t enough for Cassian, but not once did she feel like she needed to change her personality to suit him. She just evolved because that’s what healed people do. Feyre understood the lengths Rhys went to protect his court, even if it meant playing a villain.

Azriel had two years of knowing, talking, and spending time with Elain, and he still feels ashamed to touch her. Am I supposed to think it’s romantic that he feels that way about her? Am I supposed to think that it’s romantic that Azriel feels like he can’t be his true self around Elain? All this time, Lucien has been gone, and we know that he has not been pressuring her - Feyre tells us as much.

But we do have two lines from ACOSF that tell us how each male views Elain, and since I am a romance reader, I’d rather pick the one who looks at Elain with longing than a charged look.

The thing I do like about Gwynriel is that Cassian and Nesta started to observe a change in his behavior around her. He smiles more. His shadows are more playful. He doesn’t hide his amusement, and most of all, he notices her. He does so much for her without her prompting that now I’m convinced the reason why he does challenge her in the second half is that he knows she’s competitive and loves the scowl she’ll give him.

The only reason why I think Azriel gravitated towards Elain is that she’s nice to him, but it's up to him to decide that he’s worthy of it, not for Elain to make him feel like he should. And I see that he doesn’t. From what I’ve read with his feelings towards Mor, he most likely will never. Nesta put herself in a position where she can feel like she’s worthy of Cassian. Cassian did not do this for her. He helped her, like Elain could have helped Azriel, but we don’t know if Azriel is willing.

There is so much Azriel offers Gwyn that he does not give Elain, and that began when he was in disbelief that the female he rescued in Sangravah is the same female who is standing in front of the ribbon to cut it.

Even when he saw the near-comatose state of Elain, when he knew she managed to get to Hybern, we didn't get any thought on his admiration for that.

Azriel waited longer for a bond to snap with Mor than Rhys waited for a mate. Cassian was mated before Azriel, and he didn’t want that life until Rhys had Feyre. SJM specifically used envy to describe Azriel. There’s a legit reason for that.

Just as much as there is a compelling reason why Elain would subject herself to being drawn to Lucien for two years, given what we know about mating bonds post-snap. It’s deeper than "she’s not interested" and even more insulting to her intelligence, "maybe she doesn’t know how" or "no one has ever told her."

But I guess I can't expect much from a group of shippers who believe that Elain is the savior to all of Azriel’s self-esteem issues, especially when they have yet to provide a quote where another character observes Azriel looking at Elain with anything other than a charged look.

[pidgefudge]

you should tell me about video games :]

VIDEO GAMES video games i love video games 🥰🥰🥰 so the other day i was watching a video on super mario bros 2u (as in the us version) (the whole doki doki panic reskin business) (and not 2j) (the japanese mario 2) (aka the lost levels) (which werent released in the west until mario all stars) (anyway) all levels world record and i did NOT realize just how broken that game is. i mean it makes total sense it's a retro mario game lol but still it was wilddd i already knew about the massive 7-2 clip which is still really funny to me somehow but i learned a bunch of new things like how the rockets that pop up occasionally operate on FRAMERULES which means BUS TIME i love when imagine a bus works its way into completely different runs but anyway. like. the whole frame perfect item pickup with the. potion world place (i forgot what it's called) was super cool and using it to get several hits on birdo at once is genius??? and that level where he bounced the mushroom block off of the egg and also peach i love that. ya generally the movement was SO impressive especially the digging and ladder jumps very satisfying to watch. also shoutouts to the one (1) level he plays as mario. blue toad (and incidental luigi) supremacy 🫡

logically the next game to tackle is mario 3 and i have watched a few isofrieze videos on various aspects of it (retro game mechanics explained my beloved im too stupid to stay on the drift but by god can i catch it) (literally the only incentive for me to get into cs is for glitch hunting purposes that sounds so fun) (agh i should look into tasing tools sometime!!! tasing is sooo cool) but the speedrunning part scares me for some reason maybe bc it's pretty popular. but its ok i can just wait for the kosmic video if he does one im assuming he'll do one. or maybe bismuth has one i should check actually but i cant think of bismuth without feeling compelled to rewatch the entire 5 hour sm64 abc video help me

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity (TEASER)

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 882 for this teaser (estimated 8-10k final fic)

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, tipsy sex (not drunk), minghao smokes, smut warnings in actual fic

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daesukiii!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

FULL FIC HERE

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, your soon ex-husband angrily slamming the door shut, but you can't feel but be relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself. 

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? he has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making yourself more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese. 

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move. 

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throws of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

Taglist: None yet! Send an ask, reply, or reblog to be added!

[agentleem]

The secret ending to payday 2 will always be the secret ending of all time to me just because of how ludicrous the path to get it is.

Firstly, you need to have done a few specific heists in order to get the goods for them. This’ll unlock them for display in your safe house. Once you finish with that, you need to take a medallion from one of the heister’s rooms and put it near them, putting together an apparatus of sorts with the objects.

Once you’re done, you can then proceed to go into the room of Scarface from the hit movie Scarface, and use a gun to play a tune on the piano. Afterwards, the apparatus thing will stop spinning and can be interacted with.

You gotta remember (or take a picture) of the 20 different messages that show up from there, because they are in a makeup language with unique symbols, no spaces/punctuation, and backwards. Translating them hints at a list of 20 achievements randomly selected from a list of 57 that you have to complete.

Then, you have to get on a slightly harder than average White House heist with 3 other people who did the previous steps with you, where you play it as normal until you enter the underground area and have to find a glowing painting. It only glows when everyone is able to do it.

After blowing up the wall behind it, you have to reach a vault with the same language on it. From there, you have to translate the outer ring of text and put in a password that answers it. While hordes of reskinned cloaker (enemies that insta-down players) swarm you. A total of 4 times, with a single incorrect one resetting everything.

Once you enter, you have to go back to the door after a while to confront the guy from breaking bad, and make sure to shoot him before he shoots your buddy. Finally, you have to plug Mayan gold into several holes in the ground for you to finally unlock the ending

That’s a fucking secret ending if I’ve ever seen one

[alexanderwales]

Game Review: Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

Let me lead with a score: 7/10.

I overall enjoyed the core gameplay and thought that the story was completely mid, which normally would result in a better overall impression of a game. Unfortunately, the core gameplay was a lot weaker than it should have been owing to some of the game design decisions, and I have to knock the story points for taking far too much time and being sluggish to get through.

The idea of Echoes of Wisdom is that you collect "echoes" of objects you find and then use them to get through the game. You get the echo of a bed and use two of them to cross a gap. You use the bed to make a ladder to get to higher places. You use the bed to make a bridge, which is really just crossing a gap again. You use the bed to press a switch to open a door. You learn "old bed" very early on, and in my case, it felt like the solution to far too many problems.

The biggest issue is just game design: they didn't do enough of it. In theory from a game mechanics standpoint there should have been ~10 echoes that are mechanically orthogonal to each other, fulfilling different roles. In practice, there are 127 echoes, the menu for accessing them is a mess, and the vast majority of them are redundant. Even the ones that are technically distinct don't have much mechanical distance from each other: you use fire to light torches and lightning to light up green crystals, and this really felt, while playing, like a lazy reskin.

It kind of reminded me of the Green Lantern having the power to make "anything he can imagine" and then 90% of the time using it to make a fist.

Included in those 127 echoes are "combat" echoes, which you get from defeating enemies. They fight for you, and some of them can do other things, but mostly it's the fighting. In most circumstances, you just use the most powerful guy you can, with the exceptions being flying enemies and very rarely needing some kind of elemental counter or the bomb fish.

Some of this is surely driven by game design principles, namely "don't let the player get stuck because they didn't pick up the right echoes along the way". I sympathize with this, but it also kind of sucks, because it makes everything feel bland. There's surely a "minimum echoes" category, just like Mario Odyssey has "minimum captures", and my guess is that you'd only need around 10, and that of those 10, there's just not that much that they actually do differently.

This is especially a shame when compared to Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom, where the tools are wildly different. Magnesis, Bomb, Ice Block, Time Stop? Those four together have more mechanical variety and combinatorial possibility than all 127 echoes in Echoes of Wisdom. And Tears of the Kingdom was amazing, one of those times when I would sit back and marvel at how much variety and complexity there was, how many challenges were brought forth by really good game design. That doesn't exist here.

So the game mechanical premise is cool, but they don't do too much with it. How's the story?

Told in a different way, I probably would have found it fine. Instead, the heaps of dialogue, slow animations between pieces of dialogue, minimal quality of those animations, and cutsceneitis made me repeatedly roll my eyes. The fact that it was the same locations as other Zelda games also detracted from it, which is something they're going to run into if they keep having the same fantasy races over and over and over.

I think the older I get, the more I hate being stopped in the middle of a game to read a bunch of text, and this is especially true when the gameplay disconnects itself from its story. So if they had snappy responses to me pressing the "yes, I have read this" button, and animation skips that have been present in the vast majority of games for the last five to ten years, I would have liked it better. Instead, I was fighting annoyance with how slow they made everything, particularly the animations for nodding and looking surprised and all these other things. You can have these animations while the text box is being read! We have the technology!

The mute protagonist also doesn't help, and I don't really understand why they used it here except for legacy reasons. Zelda is the character we're spending the most time with, she definitely has a history and perspective, and instead we get very little of her thoughts and feelings. If the intent was to help me project myself into her shoes, it did not work.

So I think this is going to be my last Nintendo game, at least for a while. This game as an 86 on Metacritic, and I'm going to take my overall dislike of many aspects of it as a sign that it's just not for me. I was giving Mario & Luigi: Brothership an appraising look, but this is the game that convinced me that I just don't like the slow, clunky interface to formulaic surface-level stories. I would look past that for good, mechanically rich gameplay, but now it's seeming more hit and miss.