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l4long-winded · 3 months

Note

carmy’s gf being a very good dirty talker and carm getting flustered and turned on ❤️‍🔥

okay, first off, i am terribly sorry this took so long for me to answer. i was staring at it for ages just trying to think of a scenario where i could implement it. i'm a perfectionist. i procrastinate and i whine about procrastinating and then i panic if i don't have the right setting. and then i remembered... this is for fan consumption, who gives a fuck?

this concept is special to me because, to me, carmen doesn't have a whole lot of experience. it's why i LOVE the sub!carmen agenda. he gets tongue-tied pretty easily when it comes to voicing his emotions and then considering his stutter growing up, it makes sense to me that he would become bashful in the bedroom setting. especially with someone who knows what they're doing.

walk with me, anon. we have much to discuss... (sorry in advance for the title; i got carried away)

o.s. holland cream filled

summary: carmen is trying to keep it together. your talented tongue does not have the same goal (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

warnings: the title, described anxiety, dirty talk (duh), inexperienced!carmy, pussydrunk!carmy, established relationship, no use of pronouns for reader, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mentioned handjobs, gold chain mention, praise kink, carmy whimpers, subby!carmy, sort of switch!carmy at the end, implied edging, longwinded descriptions, carmy begs a little, kissing, cursing, carmen's pov, use of "babe" and "baby" (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 2,018

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

Every sinewy muscle twitches across his back whenever you get to this part, rippling underneath his skin as he pushes forward. He could easily lift his head up and away from where he’s currently got it nestled against your neck, but perhaps this is the masochistic side of him, the same one keeping him in the anxiety hellhole that is the kitchen. His sweaty curls graze your neck, near your jawline, his teeth and lips dragging over your throat. Every sound you make rumbles on him, vocal chords he tries to map out within. He likes to think he’s tasting your moans when he drags the flat of his tongue over your sensitive flesh. Your mouth is so fucking close to his ear right now, and it’s his own damn fault, the consequences of having you like this not unfamiliar. But this is the torture he anticipated and still dove headfirst into.

“You’re stretching me perfectly, Carmy.”

You always say shit like that. It throws off his rhythm, much like it always does, his equilibrium, clumsily attempting to fall back into it after collapsing all of his weight into you for a brief moment. It’s like you’re trying to make him falter on purpose with how you ramble. He doesn’t miss the hiss he ignites from you after accidentally sinking his cock all the way to the hilt from the misfire. His palms create divots in the mattress as he raises himself off you, his gold chain dangling near his chin. He hopes it tempts you enough to bite at it like you did a few nights ago. It would stop you from uttering anything else that’s going to shade his ears rosy and it’d snugly pull him back down chest to chest with you.

“That’s alright, look at me, watch my face,” you reassure him, taunting him without meaning to, directing his focus where he knows is going to both exacerbate and enhance this experience. As his hips continue to hump against you, somehow yanking the blankets and the mattress into handfuls resuming his pace from before, your lips part in ecstasy, desire swimming in your dilated pupils as you stare up at him. “ Good, fucking good, y-your c-cock is so thick,” you blurt, and Carmen’s breathing picks up. The oxygen is depleting quickly from his lungs, speed beginning to build and build.

“There, there, god, fuck me, Carmy, fuck,” you moan, and he maintains where he is. He’s so close, but he wants to ensure you’re feeling good right now, too.

Carmen’s intense blue eyes are latched on yours, his mind racing when you tell him to fuck you. He wants to respond, reply how he is fucking you, but he can’t find his voice. All he can do is grunt and nod his head obediently when you’re like this. As badly as he wants to match your dirty talk, he’s afraid of stuttering, of the vulnerability, of popping his load because every filthy sentence, every pant of his name, threatens to end it all too soon. If he even tries, says anything about your pussy, or your mouth, or your tits, how much he adores your pleasured sounds, that thing you do with your tongue, how you tighten around him and it’s impossible to not to drill his cock harder—

“You wanna cum?” You ask.

Yes, yes, yes, I wanna cum so fucking bad, please, please beg me for it, he thinks, but it doesn’t actually leave from between his lips. He swallows his own spit, instead, nodding his head violently as he breathes short and rapid exhales.

He’s confused when you don’t immediately respond to this thought. Of course, you’re not a mind reader. You’re observant, much like he is. He relies on this skill of yours sometimes because he’s never been good at talking. He seeks comfort in you. While your way with linguistics in this setting sends him reeling, he also needs it, he craves it. He only hates it because he can never last long with it implemented.

Yet, it is nice when you’re whispering your praises into his ear, sliding your spit slick hand up and down his cock, thighs spread over his open legs. You’ve helped him plenty of times during those heavy rushes or while you’re making out on his couch and he’s too tired to give you what you deserve. He likes it close and you know that. That ability of yours is tremendous for instantaneous relief.

You should know to deliver what he needs right at this moment. He’s hanging on by a thread, a thread, where is that stunning talent of yours when he needs it?

“Wanna cum? Wanna f-fill me up ‘til I’m leaking?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck you, what are you doing to him? He’s straining right now, forgetting to breathe as he glances at your features in disbelief, his arms shaking whenever you cup his face into your hands, thumbs occupying the dimples of his cheeks. His hips grind into you in an offbeat fashion, his voice close to whimpering at this point from how he’s holding himself off. Carmen weakly nods again this time, willing his orgasm away by closing his eyes. He can’t lose himself too much in the feeling. In the tantalizing image of his cum spilling out of you when he inevitably pulls out.

“Look at me,” you say, and Carmen’s eyes shut tighter before he pries them open. He really can’t look, but he also can’t stop himself from listening. You’ve got him wrapped up in a trance. He’s doing his best right now to continue, to hear you, to not give into the edge he wants to hurdle over. “You w-wanna cum for me, Carmy?”

It’s the third time now that you’ve asked. Normally, you’re forgiving. You see how frantic he is and you croak about how much you want him to shatter for you, how he deserves it, how he’s earned it. He doesn’t feel like he’s earned it right now, somehow keeping himself at bay, no matter how desperately he needs to release into your cunt. The more he looks at your expectant features, he realizes what it is that you’re waiting for.

He can’t do that. He doesn’t have the sheer willpower for it that you do. He shakes his head slightly, crimson painting his face and neck, a bit of embarrassment coating his perspired skin, recrimination of the damned knitting his eyebrows together. He doesn’t trust himself. The moment the syllables leave his mouth, he’s bound to be floundering around like an idiot, and the only thing in his head right now is how badly he needs to cum. He can’t ruin this moment, and he has a strong feeling that he will.

But those hands of yours stop him from denying it. Your pressure heightens just a touch, just enough to gain his attention back on your face. You level him with an earnest gaze, lashes batting, nose nuzzling up against his in unspoken affection. There’s no doubt in his head that you could continue to talk and help him out here, but you’re waiting on him patiently. He’s got you both of the brink of madness, and you’re withholding on purpose, softly kissing him while his hips fuck into you in a contrasting slick and clapping noise. He knows what you want. He sighs in frustration, resigning himself, because although he could give into the fire, it wouldn’t burn as good without your permission. He lives for how it tempers inside of him.

“Y-yes,” he manages. You’re too cute, the way your face lights up. You swaddle your plush bottom lip between your teeth, eyes flickering with hope and encouragement for him to continue on. Carmen has to inhale first, a gauche tickling traveling up his throat like a spider climbing up a tree, crawling along the lining of his esophagus.

“Yes,” he repeats, “I-... I w-wanna cum.”

Saying it out loud further solidifies it, eroding his self control bit by bit. It’s salient in how the vein in his neck protrudes, and he’s there, he’s about to lose it. He’s going to, feeling his pressure wean the deeper he digs. You’re taking a lot of time looking him over. He wonders if you’re getting off on how needy he is right now, extending this out, when he was good, did exactly what he knows you wanted without having to ask. He’s about to babble and stutter, he’s got it at the tip of his tongue. Your walls tighten suddenly and this time he does fucking whimper.

“... and?”

And? And what? Where are those gratifying admirations of yours for him? He’s done what you want, he’s certain of it, and his balls are heavy right now, thudding into the meat of your ass.

“Baby, please,” he gushes, but you don’t relent. Your walls tighten around him again. His cock twitches in apprehension, almost there, almost letting it go.

It hits him, then. He remembers what you said a while ago. He’s far too gone to think about what this is going to make him look like, his eyes widening with his epiphany. He starts to move faster again, a new flame lit under him.

“And f-fill you up,” he rasps, “f-fill you up, I… I need to f-fill y-you up with my c-cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck, uh, uh, uh.”

Carmen’s fears were correct. He’s a stuttering, whimpering mess, becoming more vocal as he recites your words and then some. He navigates his way back to earth when you kiss him, shutting him up from cursing. He smothers a few more fucks against your mouth, expecting you to let him have it. Only, you don’t. Your half-lidded gaze greets him when you depart, your voice holding tremors on it. You’re close yourself. He has no idea how you can do this to the two of you. Aren’t you as strung out right now as he is?

“Until?”

Carmen almost swallows his tongue with how quickly he inhales, that one word a knife into his abdomen. The muscles there contract and flex, cock throbbing, his fingers close to piercing the mattress. He holds out a little longer, his next exhale opening his mouth, tongue lolling out.

“‘Til… ‘til y’leaking.”

Triumph cascades over him seeing your pleasured grin. He’s unable to hold the dam back any longer when you nod your head. His body molds against yours, a cry leaving his lips whenever he buries himself. He pants against your neck, his arms engulfing you into them. He greedily plucks your body off the mattress, surrounded by him in every aspect. While in his embrace, the stream of his seed goes on and on, expansive pulses before each spurt. You’ve drenched him, arched into a pretty curve, thanked him while you found your own solace, and he thinks he might disappear into thin air from how light he feels.

He doesn’t. He remains sprawled on top of you, the weight of him crushing you from how he refuses to let you go. If you complained, he would roll off, but you don’t. You peck gentle kisses over his shoulder, featherlike.

“Did so good,” you mutter. “You’re perfect. All mine. Please me like no one could. So, so good for me. Such a good b—”

Carmen’s hand covers your mouth, shielding himself from further onslaught. He removes his head from your neck, still out of breath as he looks down at you. The knife through the hand of his tattoo sits sideways, your bright eyes blinking at him. He sees a mix of amusement, desire, mischief, and confusion all rolled up there.

Carmen leans down, kissing his own tattoo. The action might seem insignificant to anyone else, but when he feels your lips purse into his palm as if kissing him back, he knows it’s not insignificant at all.

“Sorry, babe,” he murmurs. He starts to move again. The sinful sound that vibrates against his palm is a muted symphony to him, but he doesn’t take his hand away.

“I wanna last longer this time.”

#l4l.writes #holland cream filled #l4l.oneshot #l4l.carmy #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #the bear fanfiction

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lockheed-martin-unofficial · 6 days

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TF One spoilers!

My favorite Starscream shots from the movie!

Throne. Need I say more?

This is where he looks like he’s gonna be a good guy but curveballs into declaring that the strong should be leading. As a Starscream redemption fan I’m a little disappointed but ALSO I find it hilarious and on brand

Starscream being taller than D-16.

ASKING HIM TO HIT HARDER?? TFO Starscream is peak feral Starscream and I love it. Getting defeated and continuing to egg him on. I’ve noticed a trend that Megatron tends to hold Starscream by the neck when they fight. Especially when it’s serious. With the detail of Megatron being the one to crush Starscream’s throat in this continuity, imagine if that was the case in other continuities. Megs doing the same (probably traumatic) move in order to intimidate him? That’s some delicious angst right there.

Not included: Shockwave trying to intervene, Soundwave going “nah I wanna see who wins”

Aww. He’s just a little guy and it’s his birthday. He’s a little birthday boy. Don’t hurt him.

Kinda wish he was more of a threat, but I also love his energy here so I can’t complain. Picks a fight he can’t win, escalates when he’s losing, gets defeated. Go girl give us nothing

I found the detail that it was Megs crushing his throat that gave him the signature squeaky voice both funny and sad. Love how his first instinct is to threaten violence here. Disrespectfully disagree with how quickly he stopped talking after Sentimeter turned away though. Starscream would NEVER shut up when someone makes fun of him. He’d yap so hard. The essence of Starscream is stubborn refusal.

Hell, he’d bite Sentinel’s hand right that instant.

I enjoy this scene because it looks like they’re just chill now, like he’s with Elita and Bee. Especially since every time I look at it I think Bee’s arm is Starscream’s. Wanna draw that.

First language reveal ewwwww

That’s all folks! I’ll post my other screenshots later perhaps

#transformers #transformers one #tf one #tf one starscream #starscream #tf one spoilers #tfo starscream #transformers one spoilers #spoilers #screenshots #by screenshot I mean I literally took photos of the screen #pirated the whole movie fr #I had like 200 but I narrowed them down to 176 #gonna narrow those down too #sentinel prime #d-16

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muniimyg · 1 year

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SAUDADE // JJK

once found, now lost; it’s a love that lingers and struggles to find closure

jungkook and oc attempt to be friends after a break-up

navi | m. list | ask me ! |

pairing: (somewhat) badboy jk + oc

au/genre:

post-break up au

one shot

angst, smut, vibes...

warnings:

mentions of blood, drinking, smoking, and drunk driving

smut ! creampie !

self loathing / bad habits

miscommunication

note: dedicated to @joonsjuice because she flew to meet me & all we did was laugh abt my fics 😭 my biggest fan frfr … i promised her i’d write so… surprise !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @heem145 @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

Tonight was no different from the other nights Jungkook would waste away.

At least, it began like a regular Friday night party. It was the usual routine of getting high as he made his way to the party, some beer pong, and downing some shots of hard liquor, before stepping out to take a cigarette break. Soon, the night would be a blur and a pain in the ass of a headache to deal with the following morning.

Except, tonight, the people Jungkook usually ignores were extra irritating. So irritating that one guy came up to him mid-puff and asked; “are you still fucking ___? Heard she dumped you and shit, so she’s up for grabs right? She’s here tonight and I heard that she was a virgin before she met you… My guy, did you fuck her out or is her pussy the type to be just as tight as it was when you first fucked her?”

It’s no surprise what happens next.

A little cussing, a little shoving, and a little punch here and there… Suddenly turned into a full-blown fight with other people intervening and pulling Jungkook’s body off the imbecile.

That brings him here.

Jungkook struggles to fit his keys into his apartment locks and stumbles his way to his bathroom. There, runs a shower and steps in. He cleans himself, scrubbing the smell of his vices away. Blankly, he watches as the blood from his hands drips down and goes down the drain. When he finishes, he turns the water off and dries himself. Yet, his knuckles continue to bleed and for a split second, he sees how deep the cut is. His knuckles are absolutely busted. He wipes his foggy mirror and sighs at the sight of his face.

His lip is also busted. His eyebrow piercing is messed up and his eye will probably bruise up by morning. Honestly, he didn’t lose the fight.. But, it sure came with a cost.

Perhaps his adrenaline begins to wear off because his injuries begin to hurt like a bitch. He rummages through his cabinets and hisses, “fucking shit.”

He had no bandaids.

He barely has any ointments to tend to his wounds.

Jungkook winces at the pain as he runs water over his bloody knuckles. He’s been in fights before and even injured his hand a few months ago, but for some reason, this pain hits differently. It aches, it throbs, it feels like it’ll probably scar.

This stresses him out.

If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, suddenly a million and one thoughts were flooding in and his heartbeat instantly begins to race. He could feel all his emotions come up and it made him nauseous. His head was spinning and before he knew it; his heart was beginning to ache.

He was truly hurting.

He had been thinking of you nonstop these days. It’s not like he ever got over the break-up—how could he? It’s only been three months since you. You two had been together for almost two years at that. How could he suddenly just be okay after three months of no you? If anything, he was only beginning to process the absence of you.

It’s not like he cared if you were at this party or not. If anything, he was happy to know you were around him. Even if you’d probably ignore him or offer him a generic greeting; he’d take it. It didn’t bother him that you were here… What bothered him was the mere idea of you taking one step closer, one fingertip brushing against his as you two bump into each other in the crowd; one moment. One mere second where you’d look at him a little longer than you should. One mere second where you’d smile at him the same way as you used to and then it’d be over.

He’d fall down to his knees and do it.

He’d beg for you.

He’d make promises, fully knowing he’d probably break them within the week. He’d cry and then he’d loathe himself for the rest of his life.

And loathe himself he does the minute he hears a knock on his door.

Quickly, he puts on his grey sweats and makes his way to answer. Without much thought, he swings the door open and it reveals a barefoot you.

“I figured you wouldn’t have any bandaids,” you hold out a plastic bag filled with First Aid materials. “We threw them out, remember? Because you promised me you wouldn’t get into fights and get hurt.”

“Where are your shoes?”

“M-my shoes? Oh. I had heels on. I think I left them at the pharmacy. I ran here.”

Jungkook sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. He hangs his head low and mumbles, “I’m sorry.”

“I knew you were a bad boyfriend,” you choke, trying your best to keep it together. “But you didn’t need to break your promise.”

He looks up and is instantly wrapping his arms around you as you bury yourself in his chest. In between light sobs, you curl your fists and hit him. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I hate you so much,” you utter with as much annoyance as you can. “I really hate you, Jungkook.”

“I know, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.”

“I—okay. Whatever you want.”

You take a deep breath and lift your head. You sniff as let him wipe your tears with his thumb. Swiftly, you take hold of his wrist and analyze his hands.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook promises. “It’s not that bad. Might need stitches but I’ll just go tomorrow morning. It’s kinda late.”

You roll your eyes at him. It’s just like him to neglect his health and well-being. “Hospitals are 24/7, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re here.”

A beat.

“So what?”

“You brought me bandaids.”

It feels weird being in Jungkook’s bathroom again.

All you can think about are all the times you two stood side by side, brushing your teeth. How you’d flush the toilet while he was showering or how he’d barge in while you were taking yours. The slow morning back-hugs and the irritating haste of running late to plans.. It’s all in here. It all happened here as silly as it sounds.

Though it’s only been three months, it’s a bit painful to be sitting on the floor with him and patching him up as if the bandaids were going to fix anything. His cuts ran deep and the bandaids only covered the damage. Yet, you two sit there in silence and pretend like this is a solution. Like sticking bandaids on a wound that clearly needs stitches wasn’t an excuse to just be with him again.

“This isn’t the you I know,” you comment, half-heartedly trying to pick a fight.

“It’s the me I’ve always been. I mean, isn’t this why you broke up with me?”

“No,” you shake your head in disagreement with his vile words.

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing so much shit in your life.”

“You didn’t,” you reassure him. “You don’t.”

You don’t say anything further. Could you even? The situation is already as horrible as it can be. Now, it has this awkward yet intimate pull on you. It just burns. If anything, you want to say it. You want to spit it all out and tell him everything.

Tell him that you broke up with him because you would’ve stayed through it all. You would’ve bailed him out of every charge pressed against him. You would’ve forgiven him every time he forgot a important date. You would’ve gotten into the car even if you knew he had been drinking. You would’ve skipped every morning class to sleep in with him. You would’ve loved him more than your own life and that horrified you.

Nonetheless, he was always good to you. You just wish he was good to himself. Though you believe him when he told you he loved you; you couldn’t wait for him to change. As much as you love him as he was—the essence of youth, anticipation, and longing he carried soon turned into a mess of anger and fuck ups.

But how could you ever think that as he sits in front of you, hurting, and still completely in love with you?

Jungkook breaks the silence. “Thank you… For this.”

“Don’t thank me,” you say sternly. Peeling another bandaid and eyeing it to perfectly cover his wound, you encourage him; “just do better.”

“I’m trying,” he says softly.

Your heart sinks.

“I know,” you take out an ointment and squeeze a bit on a q tip. Tilting his face, you reach up and apply the medicine to the cuts on his face. “I believe you.”

It’s the truth.

You do.

Jungkook can’t help himself.

He wraps his hands on your wrist, causing you to pause. There’s a look in his eyes—the kind that makes your heart feel utter heartbreak and relief at the same time. It’s devastating… To love someone and want them so bad that it hurts.

“J-Jungkook… Don’t,” you croak, trying your best to keep it together. “Don’t ruin this.”

“Ruin what?”

You push away. “This. I’m trying to be a friend, Jungkook. Don’t make it any more than it is. We broke up—”

“You dumped me,” he corrects you. “When did I ever say I didn’t want to be with you?”

“Jungkook—”

“Please, ___, I’m sorry. Believe me when I say that, okay?” He begs, bringing your hands to cup his face. “I can’t do this anymore. I hate not being with you.”

Your eyes tear up and your walls come crashing down. You hate the way he sounds right now. His voice sounds so desperate and honest. You’ve never heard it sound like this before.. Even when you dumped him, he was silent. This… This is new.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit. “Why are you sorry? How did it get this way?” It’s the most painful thing you’ve managed to say to him tonight. Your heart continues to break as his breath hitches.

“I’m no good for heartache, baby.”

Your mind spins.

Your stomach feels like it’s just been hit with a gust of wind so strong that you’ve lost all the words and thoughts you gathered before coming over. It’s like every reason you made up on your way here is just being tossed out the window.

“You’re the only thing that ever made sense to me.”

Then, it hits.

You remember exactly why you stayed for so long. Regardless of how much the break-up needed to be done, the truth remains; you and Jungkook have always understood each other. In any language and in any universe, that’s the most romantic feeling to ever encounter. To have the privilege of loving someone and understanding them runs deeper than any cut.

You two stay silent for a moment, trying to process and convince yourselves to take your words back. Anything. Take anything back.

But your attempt fails.

Self-betrayal takes place as you lean in and close your eyes. Jungkook dips his head low and kisses you. Little drops of water fall down the side of your face because of Jungkook’s wet hair. Honestly, if someone had told you it was your tears; you’d believe them. At this point, did it really matter?

For the first time in three months, Jungkook feels at ease.

His sheets still smell the same. They feel the same too. Soft, clean, and just so him.

At first, Jungkook attempts to take charge. Just like before, he had you lie down to take care of you. Unfortunately for him, because of his condition, he wasn’t able to do much. Instead, he hovered on top and took his time kissing you. His hands wandered around your body, ultimately settling for the spot in between your neck and cheeks.

Your hands traveled down inside his pants.

“Calvin Klein boxers are still by far the hottest look on you,” you claim in between kisses. He smiles into the kiss and mumbles; “yeah, yeah.”

You laugh as he attempts to slip his fingers down your panties. He hisses in pain and groans. “I fucking hate this.”

“Oh? I can go—”

“Shut up.”

“Meanie.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “I’m literally trying to get you off and you’re insisting on leaving. Do you resent me that much?”

Shaking your head, you digress. “I don’t resent you.”

He kisses you in response. As he sinks into it, you put your hands on his waist and catch him off guard. You shift your weight and bring yourself on top of him. Making yourself comfortable, you roll your hips on top of his bulge and lift your arms. He sits up halfway and helps you take off your shirt. Without hesitating, he unclasps your bra and wraps his arms around you. He brings you down and kisses you so deeply. Slipping his tongue in and even biting your bottom lip as he breaks away for air. With as much strength as he can, he feels around your breast.

God, this was the worst fucking time to have busted hands.

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you take his hands off your breasts. “Let me take care of you.”

Jungkook gulps but nods and agrees with you. In all honesty, he was tired. He wants you so bad and this was helping him feel relieved. However, it was just too painful and inconvenient to part-take the same way as he used to. He’s glad you understand and are comfortable enough to take over. He’s glad he feels safe and that his ego wasn’t being jeopardized.

He was no less of a man for letting you love him the way you do. If anything, it made him feel another level of security with you.

You lift yourself a little and take his length out. On top, you continue to grind on his velvet skin. It feels so good even with the fabric of your panties. Jungkook moans, beginning to feel the tingly feeling arise. He hooks his thumb on one side of your panties and pushes the fabric aside. He pushes it just enough for your folds to come in contact with his cock.

Oh, it felt so fucking good.

You gasp a little before giggling. “Feels so good.”

Jungkook sharply inhales. “Baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking fast if you don’t start riding me.”

You laugh, but listen to him. You lift yourself up once again and this time, you sink into his throbbing cock.

The precum from grinding on him makes it a little easier for you, but it still burns a bit. You stay still, trying to process the feeling and Jungkook takes a minute to calm his mind. He would literally bust a nut if you moved.

“Okay,” you huff. “I’m good to go. Do you still need a minute?”

“Fuck you,” Jungkook breathes.

“That’s a yes,” you tease. “I need to move or I’ll start to feel icky. You have ten more seconds.”

Jungkook glares at you. “Generous timing. Thank you, baby.”

“Aren’t I just the best?” you laugh, moving closer to him. You squish his cheeks together and place a kiss on his pouty lips. “Times up. Gonna ride you now.”

He takes a deep breath before placing his hands on your hips. You take that as the signal to begin. Also, you can’t help but love this view.

His bare chest and tattoos are displayed so perfectly for you. His damp hair adds to his needy look. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled. Instead—and God bless—you’re here. On top of him, ready to ride the shit out of him.

Easily, you begin to ride him. Every time you sink into his cock, you shift your body. You feel him inside you get harder and harder and love the way you can feel him hit your walls from various angles. It just feels so good to be with him again.

As you ride him, you two fall into the perfect pace. The high kicks in and suddenly the view of your breast bouncing, you throwing your head back, and the way your wet pussy eats him up—he creams inside you.

Satisfied, Jungkook lets out a breathy moan and watches his cum leak out of your pussy. You continue to ride him, but your hips move slower and you lift yourself up higher. Jungkook lifts his hips at one point and thrusts as you bounce. You gasp, unable to fathom just how fucking euphoric this feels.

“Ohhh my god!”

You hit climax and cum.

After all that, your body practically trembles and falls on top of Jungkook. He holds you, runs his fingers through your hair, and tells you how much of a good job you did. As you catch your breath, your breathing stabilizes but also welcomes the sleepiest relief.

As your eyes flutter close and your body fully collapses on Jungkook, he kisses the top of your head and murmurs; “you’re still the one, baby.”

When the sunlight seeps in, Jungkook slowly wakes up.

Immediately, he feels a sharp pain in his hand. He looks over and sees that you’re holding it. His hand is kept close to your chest and quickly recalls the night.

Though he feels a bit embarrassed that he had been that desperate for you; he’s glad it got him here. Yet, a feeling of sadness lingers because he was no idiot.

Though you wake up next to him in the morning, bare and tangled in his embrace, Jungkook knows that deep down; even here—at the very end of you and him—you are you and he remains him.

The sad truth is that Jungkook understood it. He understood you. Which is why, he’ll never tell you why he got into a fight that night and also why he’ll continue to fight for you until the end.

“Even if it’s the end for us.”

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akirathedramaqueen · 23 days

Text

There's one piece of concept art that made me see the entire Apology Tour disaster in a different light.

So, we've been talking with @warblogs17282 about Stolitz and how their break-up ended up playing out in the 'Apology Tour' episode.

Why ended up? Well, there's a collection of concept art which, to my limited understanding of this craft, is one of the first steps in the production process of animation. This post by @birdy-babe includes a great chunk of it, shared by artists after the episodes aired (like storyboards, but much more stylised, showing how different some original ideas were). Long story short, one of the concept arts from the 'Apology Tour' episode suggests their quarrel was originally meant to be much harsher.

A short summary of the concept art to see what we are dealing with

In the background, you see a lot of apology postcards and silly cutesy stationery, suggesting Blitzø is in the middle of his Apology Tour.

The contact name isn't 'Stols' but 'Bird Dick,' implying their relationship is at an earlier stage, with less respect—at least on Blitzø's part.

There's a photo partially cut by the edge of the messages screen. From the signature gloves and boots, cowboy hat covering Blitzø's private parts, and visible nipples, it appears to be a nude image—replaced in later stages of development with stupid gay affirmation memes (as hard as it is to believe, I couldn't imagine there could be anything worse than the Striker horse gay jokes... well, it could, my dudes, it fucking COULD).

There are three messages, one of which is unsent:

"Stolas, cum awwwwwwn, u no u want it :)"—likely attached to the nude;

"Dude just talk to me"—desperation crawls in; he finally realises the shit has hit the fan;

"Im sowwy :("—an apology, but the text remains unsent, perhaps because it seems pointless, given that the 'Not Delivered' notifications and warning signs indicate Stolas has blocked his number.

Why do I find this fascinating, and why does it fill me with immense hope?

Because they still fucking care so much, and neither has completely closed the door on the other. By comparing the concept art to the final product, you can see how many intentional choices were made in dialogue, visuals, and behaviour to make it clear that these two idiots still want things to continue. Stolitz is meant to fucking live.

Now, if you want to see some comparisons—evidence, really—let's dive into each other's changes, focusing on what we can gather from the concept art.

Blitzø's side

Change 1—thank gods, no nudes. The gay memes are sillier and a bit lighter. Of course, they still showcase utter disrespect, a horrible prejudice against sexuality, and a poor understanding of how deeply Stolas was hurt, but I find them... less bad.

Change 2—no more 'Bird Dick.' Blitzø has actually come up with a real nickname for Stolas! Feelings are boring for you, huh, Blitzø? I can almost hear the song’s lines: "O-oh, hooked, addicted you might say, conflicted in a way…"

Change 3—Blitzø's attempts to apologize now show much more contemplation. Since Stolas hasn’t blocked him, Blitzø knows his words aren’t just being thrown into the void. Although the 'unsent' detail remains, it now carries real weight and impact.

All three changes are seen in these two GIFs.

He knows he did wrong. He knows he wants to salvage it. He might not yet know how to do it healthily, but he tries—he tries so fucking hard!

Look at the range of raw, cutting emotions as he speaks to Stolas and finally delivers his apology—probably the only one he genuinely meant. Well, maybe except for Verosika, a bit later.

It's not that it's hard for Blitzø to say 'sorry'—we've seen him do it a lot lately. He's actually quick to apologise and take responsibility, so Stolas's remark about him not feeling any remorse couldn’t be further from the truth. But the fact that he isn't running away this time—chasing after Stolas and trying his best to mend things—is drastically different from how he treated Verosika back then.

Stolas's side

Here’s the moment that struck me deep. It’s the only change, since the concept art shows Blitzø’s POV, but it’s such a significant one.

Do you think Stolas has moved on? Do you think he’s done with Blitzø? Not convinced, even when he’s literally singing about still wanting Blitzø?

Well, here’s your proof—he didn’t block Blitzø. They scrapped that.

More than that, the entire interaction emphasizes that Stolas isn’t pushing Blitzø away for good.

How do I know this? Stolas is very insistent on using phrases like 'for now,' 'right now,' and 'now' throughout his attempts to tell Blitzø off.

Here are some citations:

"I was hoping my lack of 'ha-ha's' in response to the photos you sent me would be an indicator I didn't want to talk right now."

"Seeing you right now is hard!"

"I'm tired of this! I'm uncomfortable with how you're speaking to me now!"

Why is this so important? Because he isn’t asking Blitzø to leave him forever. All he’s asking for is time.

Even while hurt, Stolas gives Blitzø plenty of chances to explain himself civilly. Look at the hopeful glances each time Blitzø shows any glimpse of genuineness.

Stolas fucking hopes Blitzø will take back all the cruel things said and brash actions done.

You know, Stolas... I've spent the entirety of this morning listening to love ballads, and that was...

For what?! You want me to be like, "Oh sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self-hatred stop me from apologising to anyone I could ever care about!"

You see the furrowed brows and the sad look? Stolas hopes for the best... but gets the worst because Blitzø isn’t there yet.

I’d even go so far as to say Stolas is acutely aware that Blitzø uses his brashness as a shield to protect himself. He literally sang about it in 'Just Look My Way.'

Unless it's me? And no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through these walls you've conjured up to live.

So, what gives?

Is this the behaviour of people who want to give up on a relationship they still clearly hold dear?

No. Even when they’re angry, aggressive, hurt, or drunk, they still seek understanding and forgiveness. They continue to listen and try.

They might lack the skills and may choose the wrong time, place, or words to express what truly matters...

One person, scared of being rejected so much that he unconsciously conveys this message by saying, "You don’t have to stay here with me," and carrying it throughout the whole conversation...

The other, coming to terms with his feelings, admits them, and his fears, a bit too late—when his romantic interest is too drunk to comprehend anything…

And in both cases—self-loathing, self-hatred, doubts, scars, trauma… and a lack of hope.

But there is hope. No, this is reassurance, my folks.

You know when it's hardest to stay in a relationship? When it’s hardest to come and say, "I am sorry," when it’s hardest to still love the person?

When you’re hurt. When they’ve hurt you.

And, despite that, you still come to them and still want to talk to them.

If this isn’t ironclad evidence that this is more than just a fling or a couple of fun sex dates, I don’t know what is.

And the 'Apology Tour' fucking proves it, rather than ruins it. It only strengthens the point. It’s easy to live in happiness, but it’s so hard to go through it while you’re in pain. When you see them doing that, you realise it means everything to them.

Stolitz is to live.

#GET OFF MY MEN #they are so stupidly in love I want to smack them sometimes and... idk put them in a cage OR SOMETHING and make them fucking talk for once #they so fucking care for each other they go above and beyond to change for the better #they've already changed just because they want to be better for their love #even though they don't fully realise it #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss apology tour #stolitz #blitzø #stolas #stolas x blitz #blitz x stolas #blitz #stolas goetia #akira's whimpery metas

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dancingbirdie · 11 months

Note

This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too

OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!

I Promised You (Chapter 1)

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation.

“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone.

“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed.

The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again.

Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.

“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.”

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.”

“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.

“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.”

“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so.

“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”

“All right,” you nodded.

“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.

“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.”

***

It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.

Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers.

Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late.

“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”

“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”

“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.

“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen.

“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.

“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”

Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable.

“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”

“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves. “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”

“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”

“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild.

Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.

You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours.

He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.

“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”

“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–”

“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.

“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading.

Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t,” you hedged.

“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw.

You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered.

Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed.

“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.

“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on.

“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt.

He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”

“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.

“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”

He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.

“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter.

He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven.

“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.

That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.

“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.”

You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you.

“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”

You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright.

Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears.

“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.

“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded.

“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”

“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”

“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”

“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him.

“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”

Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea.

“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”

“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head.

“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?”

“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”

“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?”

“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.”

Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth.

He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought.

After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”

You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes.

“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”

A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently.

“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek.

***

“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part.

The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled.

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”

“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”

“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.”

Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation.

“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”

“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”

You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.

“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”

“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table.

“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped.

Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”

“Thank you,” Astarion intoned.

“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”

Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both.

“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”

“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table.

“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”

He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own.

Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.

“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.

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girlfromthecrypt · 2 months

Text

Note: This is merely a pitch introduction post. My main project remains Such Happy Campers. I have no title in mind for this IF (suggestions are welcome), although I am very passionate about the idea and will work on it on the side while I write SHC.

You are... or were one of the most famous yet mysterious characters in the 21st century pop-rock scene.

It all started when you discovered your love for singing during an extended stay at a psychiatric hospital as a teen. Music became your motivator, and from then on, you knew the stage was where you belonged. Your friends agreed… and that is how your band came to be. After years of practice in your friend’s mother’s garage and cheap gigs at dingy bars, your journey to the top begins abruptly when you team up with a skilled manager.

It's a meteoric rise— until it isn’t.

And now, a decade after your band has withdrawn from the public eye, you’ve accepted an interview by the acclaimed Groove Magazine. You and your former band members have agreed to give them the truth, the whole truth; as ugly as that might be.

Follow the story of your band’s rise to fame (and eventual fall from grace)

Play as a pop-rock vocalist

Name your band and customize your music, lyrics and image

Handle the media, interactions with pushy fans and your own repressed thoughts and fears

Romance your coolgirl-bassist, the childhood friend you cut out of your life, your absolutely insane guitarist, or your biggest fan/stalker

Give one hell of an interview

Inspiration: Daisy Jones and The Six, Fleetwood Mac

TW: themes of mental illness, substance abuse, death, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation and self-harm, unhealthy relationship dynamics

ROs:

Stevie McLaughlin, bassist (f) — “I suppose I was the sanest one in that bunch.”

She’s one of your oldest friends, and if you follow the clanking chain of cause and effect all the way back to the beginning, it is her you have to thank for your entire career. The band was her idea, after all. She’s level-headed, composed, and always there to talk you down when you need her. Sometimes, she acts more as your retainer than anything else…

Paul/Paulette Zima, lead singer & saxophonist (f/m selectable, trans) — “Trying to figure out where you know me from?”

Your band’s brand-new, second lead singer. Your manager says they’re going to give your music the kick it needs, that they’re the one missing ingredient to your success. You’re not entirely sure if you agree. Worse yet, you happen to know this person, and your time together didn’t end on a favorable note. They’re part of a past you would much rather forget.

Angel Monsanto, guitarist (m) — “I was always going to make it big, with or without those guys. Only, I… I really wanted it to be with them.”

Your crazy but good-hearted guitarist. His passion for music borders on obsession, and he will stop at nothing to make a name for your band. Sadly, he’s very much of the conviction that all publicity is good publicity, which has encouraged him to pull some very questionable stunts in the past.

Lincoln Saunders, groupie?? (f/m selectable) — “What can I say, I loved them. When they first walked out onto that stage, it felt like my heart was going to explode.”

Calling Lincoln a fan would be an understatement. Fanatic is more like it. You remember seeing them at your very first show, and you’ve continued to spot them at every venue you’ve played at since. You don’t know anything about them, and perhaps changing that would be a very bad idea. But maybe you still want to.

Others:

Fatima Shah (f), drummer — “I’m pretty sure they tried to make me disappear with their fog machine.”

After things didn’t work out with your original drummer, Fatima saved the day. She’s a sweetheart to you, but from what you’ve heard, she can be kind of a terrible person. Maybe it’s best to stay a little wary of her.

Kalena Graham (f), manager — “The first time I saw them… well, they kind of sucked. But I knew, I just knew, that they had what it takes to suck on an international level.”

Your band’s manager. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have caught her attention. She’s experienced, driven, well-regarded in the industry and… kind of mean.

Simon Young (m), reporter — “Start at the beginning. And then, don’t stop.”

The guy conducting the interview for Groove Magazine. He’s nice enough, if a little starstruck. It seems he has been waiting a long time for this.

[dividers by @thecutestgrotto]

Please consider reblogging if you like my work!

#interactive fiction #choicescript wip #choicescript game #romanceable characters #if: wip #original fiction #daisy jones and the six #music inspired #upcoming if

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frost-queen · 10 months

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The moment I knew // part 7 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia, @dracoflaco, @loliakeoghan23, @emotionaldamageemotionaldamage, @reallysparklychaos, @ok-boke, @the-fifth-marauder7, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @cherrysxuya

Summary: The social season goes on continuing with another ball. Yet this ball holds some surprises. Will it make a change for the better? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3& part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10 ]

Tap

Tewkesbury tapped his finger mindlessly against the hard glass. His mind somewhere else, vision unclear. The upmost bored expression on his face. He heard his grandmother tsk loud for him to change his posture. – “Sit up straight boy!” – she called out as the carriage took a turn, riding on a gravely road. When Tewkesbury wouldn’t move she revealed her fan, giving him a hard slap against the hand with it.

“Au!” – Tewkesbury snapped awake, startled by the sudden whip on his fingers. His grandmother hummed loudly with a glance that it was his own fault. He exhaled deep rubbing his poor fingers. He straightened his posture, leaning back against the fabric as the carriage toggled a bit. His grandmother gave him a look for off judgement. Tsking her tongue again.

Tewkesbury tilted his head slightly knowing she just had a comment burning on her tongue. – “It’s the third ball already. When are you going to show any REAL interest in a young woman.” – she emphasized on the matter of real. – “I sure hope you don’t thinking to form an alliance with that wild girl.”

Tewkesbury knew she was referring to Enola. – “She was quite nice to return my child back to me, but good heavens her features aren’t standard. She has a heart too wild. Marrying a girl like that will only give you trouble, I’ll give you that.” – she spoke glancing out of the window. The skies light dimming out. A greyness colouring all that was bright away for the night to take over.

Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window. Watching the street lights being lighted up with their bright fires. Two men standing on a ladder to give the lantern light. A couple walking arm in arm just passing them by. – “What about the season’s diamond? She isn’t the fairest…” – his grandmother brushed her skirt with her gloves.

“Whatever possessed the queen to chose her. No foul words to her majesty.” – she quickly added as if speaking ill of the queen would cause her harm. – “Yet, she would be a good match. Marrying the season’s diamond always hyphen’s up once’s status.”

Tewkesbury sighed deep as a sign of protest. He wasn’t at all interested in the season’s diamond. There was only one calling his heart, yet she no longer wishes to commit herself to him. Perhaps it was partly his fault. He still didn’t know what possessed him that faithful night at the first ball. He had been exciting all day eager to see you again. A year. An entire year he hadn’t seen you. Only making him yearn for your presence more. It was nice to have you around. His feelings still a bit unclear at that moment. In the beginning it was merely out of boredom.

That was how it all started at the opera. The moment he found a willingly victim to laugh with him. To make the dreadful opera bearable. At first he teased a lot. Playing in on the signals you were sending him. A young girl gushing over a boy. Probably the first boy around her age she had met. As girls at that age were, falling hopelessly in love with each boy that flashed them a smile. Then he started to get to know you better. See more sides of you.

It was perhaps then that he had already started to fall for you, yet it wasn’t known to him yet. A bundle of feelings he couldn’t name yet, tumbling in his stomach. Spiralling and tumbling. It became clear to him the moment you returned the acorn to him. That stupid thing he foolishly had given to you in exchange for his ring. His father’s ring he should’ve never parted from.

Holding the acorn in his hand and watching you dance with someone else made him realize what he was losing. How much nights he had wasted with not being near you. It had created a drift between the two of you. – “No foolish sauntering this time. I expect you to be married off by the end of the season. It is my dying wish.” – she had clasped her hands together, looking up to the ceiling. Tewkesbury scoffed silently.

“To have me out of the house.” – he mumbled to himself. – “What was that boy?” – she snapped at him. – “Nothing grandmother.” – he responded quickly avoiding her stern eyes. – “Thought so.” – she flapped out needing to have the last word. Tewkesbury turned to look out of the window again seeing how much the sky had darkened already. The blinding estate of the next ball coming up in sight.

You had followed your siblings inside. Hand on Anthony’s arm. He sighed loud upon entering. You quirked your lips teasingly up. – “Oh how dreadful it is.” – you acted out dramatically with the back of your hand against your forehead. Your little act made Anthony look at you, puzzled. – “Another ball I have to keep my sisters save from. God forbid they find a match and leave from under my wings.” – you added sounding as silly as you could.

Anthony stared in shock at you as Francesca laughed loud. – “It isn’t funny.” – Anthony told you sternly. It made you press your lips together to withhold yourself from laughing at him. – “Oh come on Anthony.” – Benedict pitched in grabbing him by the shoulder. – “I thought Y/n did a great performance of you.” – he chuckled afterwards squeezing his fingers in Anthony’s shoulder. You let go of him arm, standing in front of him to curtsy as if being applauded.

Anthony brushed Benedict’s hand off him with annoyance. – “Poor Anthony being so teased by his younger siblings.” – Colin interfered wanting to have a say in it. Anthony turned to look at Mother. Violet tried her best to hide her smile, yet failed miserably. To Anthony’s annoyance as he stormed off. – “Oh Anthony don’t be so… it was a mere tease.” – Violet called out going after him.

Benedict came to your side, holding his palm up to you. You pressed your palm against him, snickering at your own tease. Arms locked in you followed mother who tried to reach Anthony. Anthony took halt by a set of vases. Half filled with flowers and peacock feathers. Francesca came running up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. – “You are so easily teased.” – she said with a smile. Anthony looked up to the ceiling not wanting to give in, but when you joined her.

Wrapping your arms around him at his other side, he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. Holding both of you for a warmful hug. The moment was ruined when Benedict decided to join in from behind, giving him a good squeeze. Nearly making him fall forwards. He nudged his elbow back at Benedict to get him off his back. Benedict let go of him, winking at you. Benedict stretched out making Anthony roll his eyes at him.

“I thought you had learned manner yet.” – Anthony spoke. Benedict lowered his arms from stretching up. – “Oh brother you must know me.” – he chuckled out giving him a hard slap against his back. A gentleman came over around Colin’s age. He invited him for a game of cards. Colin accepted dragging Benedict with him.

You stood with Francesca and mama, watching the dancers. A girl you had met before once came running over. – “They have peacocks in the garden!” – she called out unable to control her enthusiasm. Francesca and you looked at each other with delight and shock. – “Girls!” – Mama called out the moment the two of you started to run. Wanting to get to the gardens and see a peacock for real. – “Oh I wish it would open it’s feathers.” – Francesca huffed out pressing herself between people to get across.

Holding onto her hand tightly, you were behind her, trying to squeeze through those your sister just went passed. You were near the glass doors that lead up to the stone pedestal with steps downwards into the gardens. Many people wished to gaze upon the peacocks to be found in the garden. Francesca and you came to a brief halt as you locked eyes with a certain girl on your right.

The one who had danced with Tewkesbury. Her expression neutral. She went on going through the glass doors as Francesca followed taking the doors on the left. You had remained still, allowing your hand to slip out of hers as she got swept up in the crowd. Somehow the moment seemed ruined. No longer you contained any excitement for the animals. Moving a bit backwards, you went back further in.

Yet you didn’t wish to return to your mother who was clearly searching for Francesca and you. Neither did you wish to return to your brothers. Not even being allowed in the rooms where they played cards and gambled on the side. It was a secret, a hush-hush but everybody knew about it anyways. You decided to leave the ballroom for what it was. The music fading out when you went into the corridor. Most of the doors were closed. Others were open.

A group of people chattering and laughing loud with drinks in their hands. You passed them all feeling no need of entering a room full of strangers without the presence of your brothers. By the end of the corridor you were intrigued by a door partly opened. Not enough to peer inside, but wide enough to see a warmth glow come from inside of it. You neared the door staring through the creak to have a look inside.

Eyes widening at the sight of Tewkesbury. You gasped loud when he suddenly turned around spotting you. It had startled you, making you bump your shoulder against the door and trying to make a run for it. Tewkesbury hastened himself to the door, opening it more. – “Y/n!” – he called out. It made you stop. – “I mean Miss Y/n.” – he corrected himself. You took a step forwards not sure if you wanted to be around him. A second step was impossible as you felt a force keep you in place by your skirt.

Looking over your shoulder down, you saw Tewkesbury’s grip on your skirt. Your gaze went up to meet his. Full of sadness his eyes were. Perhaps yours were too. – “Please…” – he whispered, a hush almost unheard. Taking a deep breath, your shoulders slouched down. Unspoken you followed him back into the room, not sure why you did. The room was not that grand. Rather small. An armchair and small table positioned in the room.

White curtains with patterns on them. Here and there some trinkets. You went to sit down on the armchair, hands folded in your skirt. Tewkesbury stood up straight looking down at a small table. It contained a perfume bottle and a fan. It felt weird. Awkward to say the least. As if you were strangers again. Tewkesbury cleared his throat picking up the perfume bottle. You turned your head to look around the room.

Tewkesbury leaned forwards trying to sniff the smell. Accidently spraying in his face. He coughed loud, waving a hand in front of his face. Setting the perfume bottle back. – “I saw that girl head outside to see the peacocks.” – you said having the urge to cut through the silence. – “Enola.” – Tewkesbury replied as it made you hum confused.

“Oh…” – hearing him say her name made you turn your head away. It felt strange. Strange how your heart still yearned for him. Even in this moment. You wanted to run over to him, leap in his arms and hear him say how much he wants you. Tewkesbury understood the notion of your reaction, looking down at the table. He picked up the fan to occupy himself. – “Where is your suitor?” – he asked. You hummed confused looking up to him. Tewkesbury looked back at you opening the fan with a smooth movement.

It made you blink startled. – “That boy you danced with.” – Tewkesbury flapped the fan at himself keeping his eyes on you. – “I’m sure he has proposed by now.” – He went on unable to stop himself from yearning for you. For hoping you’d contradict his words. As a response you snorted loud. It made him curl up a smile not fully understanding what was this amusingly. – “I’ve danced with him once. Let’s not get too far ahead.” – you responded with a smile.

Tewkesbury’s smile got brighter feeling the tense atmosphere from before falter. – “Besides he’s not a prince.” – you added with a smile. – “Or a Viscount.” – Tewkesbury whispered out of ears reach. – “Enola seems nice.” – you told him. Tewkesbury flashed the fan in front of him again near his cheek. To you unknown, but to him full of words.

“She’s a terrible dancer.” – he commented making you laugh. – “Laugh all you want, I have the bruised toes to speak for me.” – he added as you started to laugh even harder. Hearing your laugh made him smile widely. In this moment it felt like heaven to him. He drew the fan down his cheek again to you. – “What are you doing?” – you questioned seeing it was the third time he had performed it. – “Fanning.” – he responded with a cheeky smile. – “It is hardly warm here… unless you are doing something else…” – you answered.

“Nothing else.” – he muttered out, looking away. Having a sense of time, you got up. Tewkesbury hasting him to your side. – “My siblings must wonder where I am.” – you spoke hearing your heart thump louder in his presence. – “Of course.” – he answered staring smitten down at you. You wanted to open the door as Tewkesbury was ahead of you. Opening it for you and allowing you to walk out. You went on, looking briefly over your shoulder back to him.

Unable to hide the fact you still much desired him. Your plans of marrying him still present, never buried away. You entered the ballroom once more. You watched a few more dances with mama at your side. Then there was a sudden announcement. Maken everyone hasten outside. The sky full dark now. Starless and cloudless. A blank canvas ready to be painted in with delights.

You neared the already standing crowd. Mama spotted Francesca going over to her. Not far from her you noticed Enola. Getting on the tips of your toes, you couldn’t help but see if Tewkesbury was near her. A part of you hoping he wasn’t. Your brothers were coming outside too, laughing loud. Colin holding a little sack in his hands. Probably the coins he had won with gambling.

They were getting behind some people to wait for what was to come. Setting your heels back down, you felt a presence near your right. Slowly letting your gaze go to your right to see who it was. Your heart leaped, expression softening when he stood beside you. Tewkesbury. Staring right back at you. Half a smile on his lips.

A whistle went off followed by a loud blow. It startled you and Tewkesbury as the night sky busted with colours. First a bright red. Then a bright blue. Tewkesbury and you looked up to the sky as the fireworks exploded. Bright yellow, green and red filled the night sky. Colours popping in the air. People were pointing and reacting startled with laughter.

You were amazed by the colours, watching them with excitement. A gentle nudge against your knuckles made you dim your enthusiasm. Trying to figure out what it was doing to you. Another nudge against the back of your hand. Pressing gently against your hand. A tingle went up your spine as you continued to watch the fireworks.

Slowly turning your palm and stretching your fingers out. Fingers glided over yours as they caught your hand. Another firework popped as the green colours reflected on your faces. Two hands intertwined for no one to see. Standing together in a heaven of bright colours.

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elbiotipo · 7 months

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Worldbuilding: Galactic Empires

My only complaint about the Prequels is that they needed MORE politics

If you've watched Dune recently, you must have noticed the whole Emperor and space noble families thing. And yes, it's likely you heard that in WH40k too… and I HOPE you know that's where the God Emperor came from, since WH40k took "inspiration" from everywhere from Dune to Star Wars. Which also has a Galactic Empire. Like so many other science fiction franchises.

In fact, if you're a science fiction fan, it's very likely that you're familiar with space or galactic empires, they seem to be common as dragons in fantasy. Despite the fact that an empire doesn't sound very futuristic, does it?

Where did all these Galactic Empires come from? Are they just a narrative tool or are they an actual possibility? How would states and societies work in space? Let's find out, and maybe I can give you some ideas on how to write fun galactic "empires" from both a narrative and plausibility perspective.

This is going be a long post. Perhaps my longest yet. But I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Click down to continue.

First of all, where did these space emperors come from? In another post, I've talked about the influence of the idea of the rise and fall of the Roman Empire in English-language fiction. However, in science fiction, I would say the influence is more direct. The Foundation trilogy of Isaac Asimov, one of the foundational (lol) works of science fiction, was intended by the author, very explicitly, as a retelling of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon in a science fiction setting. He probably wasn't the first to think about a space empire, I'm very sure the term is older, but he certainly popularized it as a staple of science fiction. Now, if your contact with science fiction comes from movies, when you hear Galactic Empire you're of course thinking about Star Wars. But yes, Star Wars is also the same retelling, because Lucas was inspired in both Asimov AND Gibbon, even though I think we should appreciate Lucas' ability to bring it to life in the screen. Certainly, Isaac Asimov wasn't the first or the last to take inspiration in history to tell stories about the future.

The most influential science fiction work of all time.

At this point you're probably telling me (or not, I don't know you) about all other sorts of science fiction works that DON'T have galactic empires, or better yet, those that don't just transpose historical societies into the far future and imagine something entirely new (my personal recommendations on this area are Banks and LeGuin). And you'd be right. But the concept of a space empire seems popular and long-lived, much like feudalism in the fantasy genre, everyone has a picture of a sorts when a videogame or a book talks about a "galactic empire" or "galactic republic" or a "federation", an "empire" much like a shorthand name for "a country In Space", regardless of the presence of an actual Emperor or not. And so, it's worth exploring how this trope could, or not, work, so we can see the possible alternatives or more fun ways to approach it.

Besides, that's the title of the post. Galactic Empires.

So, let's approach this from the perspectives of Space, Time (or to keep with the theme, Spacetime) and Technology, and lastly, the most fun part, we'll explore some fun variations on this idea of galactic empires and societies.

Space:

Space is big, and I won't quote the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy here, it would be groanworthy at this point. Let's do a quick exercise instead. Let's image a "modest" space empire, not even galactic, 2000 light-years across. Sounds quite big, it encompasses most of the visible stars we can see from Earth… however, if you project it into a galactic map, it's actually a very small piece of sky, actually 2% of the entire galaxy which is about 100.000 ly across. Now, according to the Atlas of the Universe, there are 600 million stars in a 5000 ly radius from the Sun. Jesus Christ. This is actually hard to estimate accurately as the true number of red dwarfs and brown dwarfs, the dimmest stars, are hard to count, but we already know those have planetary systems as complex as our own Solar System, even planets that could bear life. Let's scale back to our 2000 ly across space empire, again, just a small cozy corner of the Milky Way Galaxy, something that would look like a small, even tiny, nation in any setting of a galactic scale. This gives us 240 million stars (from the estimated 200 billion stars of the galaxy) in this space, which is still completely insane but let's work with that.

From Atlas of the Universe, so you can compare and contrast, the stars 2000 ly from the sun (ONLY the brightest ones), and the entire Milky Way. Notice how small 2000 light years truly are at that scale.

Even if I just told you that all of those systems might be as complex and rich as the Solar System, let's rather arbitrarily say only 5% of those 240 million are worth of note. Not necessarily having life (no way I'm getting into that yet), just worth visiting or living in for the resources or the views or the cantinas… whatever. That's 12 million star systems. Okay, let's refine this further. Let's say of those 12 million, most of them are the equivalent of gas stations or farmsteads, a couple thousand people at most. The REAL places where the action happens are the systems or worlds where millions of people live, and those are few and far between (this makes both common and narrative sense, as people tend to cluster in population centers where trade, resources, etc. are). Let's say, and let's refine this further so I don't get outrageous numbers, the average population of those systems is 100 million (about the size of Mexico, Vietnam or Japan. Many sci-fi works throw worlds of billions like Earth like nothing). And those systems are… uh, like 2% of THOSE 5% 'systems of note' (a flimsly concept already but play along). That's 2% of 12 million. We got 240.000 systems or worlds the population size of entire countries, with all that implies (economy, culture, politics). Of course, 240.000 multiplied 100 million gives this speculative fictional empire a total population of… (Jesus Christ, not the scientific notations), 2.4e+13, or TWENTY FOUR TRILLION PEOPLE.

Let's wind back and remember I tried my best to make a "small" empire for a galactic-sized setting, 2000 light-years across, that's just from here to Orion's Nebula for Gagarin's sake! A trillion people is just outside the realm of my imagination, or pretty much anyone's. Can you imagine any kind of goverment system that would be enough to provide any kind of meaningful governance to 24 trillion people? In the case of a space empire, can you imagine a single space emperor, a single person, deciding over them? Keep in mind that emperors don't rule on their own (we'll talk about that), they need bureacrats to make their will done, and vassals to govern their territories in their stead. This would apply even in democratic systems, you need representatives and civil servants and more.

Let's scale back a bit before I go insane. Instead of assuming territory, let's go with population. Assume a spherical cow space empire of… 40 billion people, that's reasonable right? You can picture that in your head? Five times the population of current Earth, no biggie, we can work with that, it's all cool. Now, how big would a goverment for such a population would have to be? We actually have reasonable answers. China has about 10 million civil servants for a population of 1.4 billion people, but that's only the administrators, not including all the teachers, healthcare workers, security forces, laborers, etc. employed by the state. India has 6.4 million for about the same population. Okay, so easy math, let's say that this space empire has 6 million bureacrats for 1 billion people, for our empire of 40 billion people, that gives us a total of 240 million… just bureacrats, nothing else. Yes, you could reduce that with technology by say, half. It still means an entire Mexico-sized country of bureacrats. Imagine.

Entire worlds of this.

NOW I WILL STOP THROWING NUMBERS AT YOU, and let's just think about what this means. If we assume a space empire like the ones common in science fiction, or just any kind of… goverment at all, we're talking about, at the lowest estimates, entire countries worth of state employees, if not whole EARTHS of bureacrats. You can guess how things can get really weird fast. Current goverments as we know them just won't work at all it even if technology gets more powerful. Leaving aside, for now, things like god-like AI adminstration (yeah, have you seen what they are like now?)… to exhert ANY kind of control, FTL or not (more on that below) you would need a very, very autonomous empire, to the point it might as well not exist at all. Why take orders from A Guy who is not only far away but also has no hope at all of actually enforcing them in any meaningful sense? Why call yourself part of his "empire" that not only cannot enforce anything upon you, but also cannot benefit you in any way? Big question, of course, the benefit of a galactic or even smaller empire, but we'll discuss that later.

What could work, however, is that instead of a centralized state like we concieve it today, or even a loose confederation, even loose alliances, even pretty much anything… 'empires' (as in 'countries') In Space could be "united" by common ideas and culture instead of any institution. Perhaps not even a written delcration or constitution, but shared ideas: a culture, a religion, an ideology. Lots of different strong mini-states (that might mean billions of people…) that all claim to be part of the same "civilization", but share no goverment at all at all, just the same 'idea', in a looser way that even the most decentralized goverments you can think of. You can say "well all countries are made up" but these would barely qualify as even that. Not even the Holy Roman Empire was this fake.

Perhaps even a single person as a symbolic focus point of unity? Which would be actually a score for the proponents of galactic empires in the most literal sense. But at the same time, such an Emperor would be completely powerless to interact with the entire galaxy. His plans for, I don't fucking know, education reform or tax breaks, would have to be filtered by literal millions of bureaucrats and vassals that at that point might do whatever the hell on his name. Military-wise, his armies would count as nations of their own. However, the overall guidance of a single person (or constitution…) as a symbol might make otherwise disparate worlds to collaborate on the same causes, being part of the same greater whole no matter the distance. So maybe, instead of a Galactic Emperor, a Space Pope?

OH MY GOD-EMPEROR WAS THE IMPERIUM REALISTIC ALL ALONG? Probably not, but also yes, let's keep talking.

By the way, I'm sure you're tired of big numbers now, but I did one possible calculation for the whole galaxy, a true Galactic Empire. Asuming just 0.2% (400 million) of the 200 billion stars are populated, with an average population of one million, the size of the smallest countries that aren't micronations. The total galactic population would be 40 trillion, or 40,000,000,000,000. Five thousand Earth populations.

Time:

Or rather, space-time. We'll talk about both, because what concern us is the speed of information and trade, and that also limits the size of our empires.

I'm sure you know by now faster-than-light travel is impossible. Most of space based science fiction has it, of course, for narrative purposes. We don't want Our Heroes to spend two thousand years to get to the lair of the Evil Space Tyrant, I don't either, and I'll discuss FTL soon. But let's start with no-FTL here, just like in real life, and a smaller "empire", much, much smaller than my previous examples. A mere 250 light years across. Let's not even calculate population now.

This, quite logically, means that the fastest your communications would flow is at light speed. So if your emperor issues orders to a nearby world, say, 5 ly away, you will get an answer 5 years later. For a more reasonable distance of 60 ly, you would know the results 60 years from the descendants of those who recieved the order (now, assume however they keep in constant conversation, just with a 60 year delay), and by then, things there would have changed 60 years from the capital. You get the idea, Einstein sucks, don't need to elaborate more. At first glance, this might be another point for old-style feudal star empires, though. What better way to guarantee your empire is working well over centuries than by having an hereditary class of nobles loyal to you, no matter how much time passes (results may vary). Of course, how would you even enforce that? Rebels might overthrow them and you'll learn about it a century later, and you'll have to send ships to quash the rebellion… or would you?

Is there a point to send ships to conquer other worlds in such a situation? What kind of resources (ah, the lifeblood of empires) could you control with such an empire where transport takes decades and industry is so developed you could, theoretically, make manufactured goods yourself? I'm assuming you can, because you can build spaceships to get there in the first place (not unreasonable), but what would justify creating an interstellar goverment controlling people, trade, resources, over light-decades? Normally, it's at this point where sci-fi authors make up Something (what Atomic Rockets calls "McGuffinite") to justify interstellar trade. In Dune, for example, it's Spice, which is kind of like, to steal a joke, petroleum mixed with cocaine. But otherwise, in a no-FTL setting (so, real life as far as we know) there isn't really the incentive to conquer or even form a goverment of any but the looser kind with other worlds. Trade, maybe, but those are long-term investments, it's difficult to think what kind of good or service would be so in demand would justify it. Especially when you consider that light-speed is your upper limit, and ships might be actually way slower than that. And I'm not even gonna begin to touch relativistic effects.

I was going to make a joke about blowing a quarter of your GDP in Star Destroyers, but have you heard of the South American Dreadnought Race? One of our dumbest moments down here, surely.

Add FTL, and things change, of course. Even very slow ships, that would take months to transverse a dozen light years, would be able to justify trade in luxury goods and passengers, for instance. This is not too far from real-life either, after all, European colonial empires had travel times in the months, and they had to install local administrations such as viceroys because of this, yet rhose places they were considered part of the same empire (most European empires could be rather considered a collection of "countries" and colonies, look at all the divisions of the Spanish Empire for instance). Faster and cheaper ships would of course, mean even more trade (here, I'm using 'trade' as 'communication between worlds', not necessarily implying capitalism, it could be mercantilism or even a command economy) between worlds, even perhaps the classic trope of agrarian and mining worlds feeding the rich core worlds. The Open Veins of Latin America In Space. Fun.

The speed of your ships and communications not only determines trade, but the power projection of your state (we can discuss 'stateless' societies too, there's plenty of fun to be had). If, again, your Galactic Emperor makes a Galactic Proclamation from the Galactic Palace near the Galactic Core (let's roll with that) and he has no FTL communications of any kind, it means that his commanding voice would reach the outer edges of the galaxy 100.000 years after, that is, almost ten times the history of agriculture on Earth. If he, however, has access to ships that can cross the galaxy in say, months, yes, perhaps he can have a series of vassals all over the stars (perhaps, we'll see…), and the faster things are, the closer they resemble our current fast-paced society, but not quite, given the available resources and space in… SPACE and the possible population, as we discussed above. As you can see, the speed of your FTL or lack of it determines everything.

There is another, more *realistic* option. Instead of individual FTL ships, you could have wormhole portals connecting worlds. This is more realistic in the sense that it's theoretically possible (though we have no idea on how to make one), but it also has some interesting implications. First of all, there is an implication that such a wormhole network would be expensive to build and maintain, requiring highly complex technology, material (I'm not sure what the hell exotic matter really is) and production methods, well, more high than what you'd expect from the usual. Second, it would be something preferably fixed, with hubs, planned routes and regular transit (and for writers, it easily allows you to map your universe). Such networks would be vital pieces of infrastructure, built and maintained by central authorities, drawing routes and transport hubs in space. Yes, indeed, almost like… space railroads.

OH MY ASTRAL EXPRESS WAS HONKAI STAR RAIL REALISTIC ALL ALONG? (last joke I promise)

There is also a very strange effect about wormhole networks. Time is relative, as you know, and this is not a metaphor, it literally "flows" differently on how fast you're moving. The "universal" "speed" of "time" "seems" to be the speed at which matter moves in an expanding universe (red-shift and blue shift) as I understand it, but as you approach light-speed, time flows differently in your frame of reference. Wormholes are strange in the sense that they connect space AND time, the observable time in both sides of a wormhole would be the same, and as such, places connected by a wormhole network will "be" at the same "time". This has been talked about by some authors who have considered about wormholes in the context of space civilizations, and it's called (STOP!) Empire Time. So a space empire might not only imply a state ruling over a population and a territory, but also over a time. I have no idea how this works and it frankly makes my head hurt, but here is an analysis of transversable wormholes if you want to indulge or hit your head against a wall.

Technology:

As an extension from the previous section: Of course there is no working FTL method known in real life, as far as we know, light-speed is the upper limit for everything. Instead of constraining you as a writer, this can be one of your biggest assets.

Because if you're doing a space setting, the existence of faster-than-light travel and its speed is the most important decision you can take about it.

Got that? Did I emphasize that enough? You don't need to actually explain HOW your FTL system works, you can do some research and invent something, but you need to be clear, in your head, what it can DO: How far and how fast it can take you. A FTL system that takes months to go from star to star will be very different to one that takes hours to span the Galaxy like the hyperdrive of the Millenium Falcon. A FTL system that is cheap and can be installed in any tiny ship like in the Elite videogame would be different from the ones in Dune where interstellar travel requires enormous motherships and lots of drugs, or a wormhole network that needs massive infrastructure maintainment and probably a railway starway worker's union, or the case of no FTL at all. This is, again, the most important decision you could make for your setting, bar none. Got that? Let's continue.

FTL is perhaps the only place in science fiction where I don't care about how it works, only about how fast it goes

Now, technology. Space empires, are of course, not possible without space travel being cheap enough (not talking about FTL, just regular space travel): shipping stuff to space should be about the same as shipping stuff by airliner or, well, ships. This is not unreasonable. Efforts are being made right now to lower the cost to access space, and while space agencies like NASA might look expensive, they are not NEARLY as expensive as the money wasted in say, stealth jet fighters or fucking advertising (people who say 'why spend so much money in space when we could fix our problems on Earth' seem to forget about that all the time. But I digress.). A technologically advanced, wealthy (as in production, not literal dollars) society could easily afford as much space exploration as they wish with no real effect at all in their quality of life, indeed, it would improve it. Space isn't as expensive as it seems. At its very, very core, a spaceship is just steel and propellant.

And steel and propellant are very, very easy (once you got the technical research to do it) to get in space. Asteroids are MADE of iron and metals, a single asteroid is richer than all of Earth's mines combined. Hydrogen is literally the most abundant element in the universe, and water is on plentiful supply (no need to steal planets for water) on comets and icy asteroids and moons. Carbon is apparently widely available in carbonaceous asteroids, and in our own Solar System, Titan, the moon of Saturn, is basically covered in hydrocarbons (yes, OIL IN SPACE). All those resources could be very much in demand for manufacturing on a planet like for example, a future Earth that has taken its industry up to space. What's more, it's only bringing stuff up from Earth/an Earth-like or more massive planet (fun sci-fi term for you: "down the gravity well") that's really expensive. Once you get there, you can get anywhere with enough acceleration and propellant. Once there is space infrastructure and industry (and I get a feeling that it might get up fast, given that space technology would need to be very autonomous and reliable), it can sustain itself without a mother planet. In fact, if there's something I imagine would be considered a luxury in spacer life, it would be truly organic things; plants, wood, meat, wool, and so much more.

i am average astronaut man i work 15 hours in the asteroid mines to buy one burger

Which brings us to the big question; what kind of life would be out there? After all, I gave you numbers of millions and millions of worlds, it's hard to imagine at least a few of those don't have alien life. This is the biggest outstanding question in astrobiology currently and so I won't pretend to even try to answer it (my personal opinion, if you must, is that complex Earth life is extremely rare, but by sheer number of planets, it might exist by hundreds of thousands in our galaxy alone). Instead, let's try to see how science fiction looks at it.

Heinlein, another of the foundational writers of science fiction as a genre, saw alien worlds as just another frontier to be settled. Rich alien fruit, fertile arable lands, and huntable or tameable creatures just waiting to be exploited, and alien species to trade exotic goods with (or conquer). While Heinlein was not the only and probably not the first to write this subgenre, he certainly got it popular, and lots of works on his same vein follow this "frontier spirit" kind of writing, where space is seen as the last frontier to be tamed by hardy colonists in a very yeehaw cowboy western setting, and you can actually see this replicated in many modern science fiction like Firefly and the more cowboy-ish parts of Star Wars. And yes, this is balantly an expression of the 'manifest destiny' Usamerican imperialist worldview.

lots of Politics all over this Science Fiction Adventure

And yes, this idea of 'habitable' planets ready to be colonized like in a 4X videogame is also not very realistic either. We haven't found any alien ecosystems yet, but as a biologist I can tell you they would be very different from us in ways you probably won't expect. We can discuss how convergent evolution could be, a world with oceans would probably have equivalents of 'fish', 'algae' and 'worms' (I can GUARANTEE there will be A LOT of worms), we could even find very, very similar life to our own down to the body plan. However, we most probably could not eat them at all (which might sound silly at first glance but is needed to have you know. agriculture.), or perhaps even live in the same planet as them. We live in a society planet where most of the plants and animals which evolved with us can't be eaten, and many of them are toxic. It's possible, entirely likely, that the alien equivalents of carbohydrates (ever heard of L- and D-Glucose?), proteins and other substances would be indigestible to us, allergenics, or outright toxic, probably in ways we can't even think off. It's likely we won't catch alien diseases, but that's because our cells (if they even have cells) are completely incompatible with their diseases, just look at how different animal, plant and fungi cells are, now imagine whatever the fuck might evolve in a completely different biochemistry from us. There would be no farmsteads and cowboys like Heinlein wrote, living in Mars would probably be more pleasant that living in a world where everything might be toxic, not because life evolved to be toxic, just because it didn't evolve with you. If anything, these' habitable' worlds would be treated like giant nature preserves instead, you can look but don't touch.

(In one of my own settings, I sidestep this by proposing panspermia, that is, the idea that life spreads across the universe by means such as comets (or aliens) and thus shares similaritites and can eat the same stuff. A bit of a cop-out, but it does allow one to get with similar kinds of life.)

NOOO ANAKIN DON'T EAT THAT PEAR IT EVOLVED HIGHLY TOXIC ALKALOIDS IN A DIFFERENT EVOLUTIONARY CONTEXT NOOOO

But humans, if the biophilia hypothesis is right, will need nature in their lives. This is where orbital habitats come in. You know, like the ones in Gundam? Orbitals such as O'Neill Cylinders, Standford Torii (yeah, that's the plural for Torus) as well as bigger and more complex thingmajings I will write their own post about someday, have been proposed since the 1970s with technology available then, and there is no reason why a civilization with an advanced space infrastructure wouldn't try building them and even be better at it. What's very nifty about orbitals is that you can really make them your own personal custom miniworlds. Designs like the O'Neill cylinder are big, able to house hundreds of thousands, even millions of people if build to the top, but why do that? Mess with the lightining, the rotation, or the interior to make them a winter wonderland or a tropical paradise. I expect that they would be built to feed space communities at first with food that isn't imported from Earth or grown in hydroponics, and later as places to live and customize however you wish; perhaps a community would pool resources together and say, hey, we want to make an habitat that looks like a Colombian cloud forest, or the Okinawan Islands. Once they get cheap enough, and given how abundant resources are in space they might be not even as expensive as most engineering projects here on Earth, I expect actually many, many people would want to live in them, and it could be probably be very affordable, and just natural for the people who are born and raised and live and die in them. Another thing about habitats is that they are mobile. Like I said, as long as you got enough propellant and propulsion, you can move anything anywhere in space. Even whole habitats could move and cluster together depending on the local politics. Perhaps, much like city-states were the basic building block for countries in antiquity, in the future, the basic organization bloc would be the Orbital. You could have alliances of orbitals forming complex political intrigue inside a single solar system (yes, like in Gundam).

OH MY PLASTIC MODELS WAS GUNDAM REALISTIC ALL ALONG? (I lied)

This all might make space empires pretty much an unnecessary anachronism. Habitats can grow their own food and resources are plentiful once you have the right technology. They can also be mobile, so they could act like migrating cities at will, choosing to stay with like-minded "constellations" or strike out on their own without the dictates of a central state. It almost looks like an ideal anarchist society.

Or does it?

There is something very important to keep in mind about life in space. The technology, that is, habitats needed for life in space will require lots of maintainance and resource management, which implies there must be strong coordinating bodies with very, very strict rules so that shit doesn't blow up and you lose all your air into space, or the resources of an habitat are mismanaged and you end up with a food or water or even oxygen crisis. There is a reason why space exploration is done by state agencies or corporations with huge state backing. Another of Heinleins's favorite tropes, Libertarians in Space, would be impossible in such a situation. Actually, in ANY space situation, and this is why this section is in technology. Living in space requires you to be able to maintain complex technology and manage resources. None of this can be done ad-hoc or be left to individualism, you have to have Rules and follow them to the letter. And also, the effect of living in your 'own little world' would probably mean people have a strong indentity sense towards their home habitat. This will mean a more communitarian attitude. But before you think I'm waxing poetic about utopian habitat cultures, keep in mind that this also can mean an authoritarian mindset. After all, cults and authoritarian regimes do have "strong communities" too. An habitat could be everything from a well-managed place with responsible citizens who look for the welfare of all, to a closed society where everybody does as they're told as long as the tech works. On the other hand, I doubt habitats in a single star system would stay isolated. They'll probably trade and communicate with other habitats, forming constellations and power groups, that would prevent this 'closed system'. However, I doubt they would be too amenable to interstellar authority. Who the hell do those people from another freaking star think they are to tell us what to do in our habitat?

To be serious for a moment, habitats can be really cool places in science fiction. Especially if you imagine they could host all sorts of enviroments, from the tropical to the polar.

As an addenum… what if you really want to live in a planet? In places such as Mars or the Moon, things would be… pretty similar to orbitals actually. Habitats separated by vast expanses of barren nothingness, only now a planet instead of space (better for maps, at least). But that isn't what you're thinking, right? What if you wanted to feel the open wind and sky instead of a canned world? Well, this is where terraforming comes in. Transforming whole planets is something theoretically possible, but that would require massive investments of resources, more massive than anything we can imagine, and time, centuries at the very, very least. So stupid ideas like "terraform Mars to escape Earth", which as far as I know is only held by dumbasses like Musk, just don't make sense. It doesn't mean that terraforming itself is a worthless idea, it is a very appealing one. No matter how cool you can make your habitat, it won't ever be Earth. It won't ever be a self-sustaining biosphere with its own ecosystem that could last millions of years. For that reason, terraforming is attractive, it's something way more than an artificial "can" orbital, it's a new living world. There is a certain mystique into bringing lifeless worlds to life, but I expect that instead of the dumb Musk "ESCAPE EARTH" idea, the motivation for terraforming would be to recreate Earth, perhaps for conservation reasons (you could have whole planets as natural reserves), perhaps for tourist reasons, perhaps for spiritual reasons or even artistic reasons. On the other hand, the methods you can use to terraform a lifeless planet can also be used to 'terraform' living planets, as we've long seen in our own world… this could be done with hostile purposes. I would expect us to be better than that, but we simply don't know.

To close this section and give this post an conclusion, I think that, since there are no real borders in space, then empires, countries, polities, whatever you wish to call them, will be formed by stacking building blocs in loose alliances or confederations. The most basic would be habitats, then constellations of habitats, then inhabited planets (though I doubt any but the most populated ones would qualify), and then star systems, but little above that, and I expect up to a certain, difficult to calculate limit of population and area (though way, way below even a fraction of a speculated galaxy), things would be just impossible to manage. The effort in bureacracy, infrastructure and state control needed to project power out of a star system and the sheer scale of space probably won't ever justify empires, much less galactic empires, but you could have very interesting variations on the theme.

Fun Stuff!

So, let's play a little with what I've told you. I'm going to write a few short scenarios that might be fun takes on the "Galactic Empire" or "Space Empires" you might be familiar with already:

The Poleis Model

When the Greeks established their colonies around the Mediterranean, they didn't do it with the expectation they would be part of the same state or empire. They founded new poleis, new city-states, based on the constitution of the mother city (hence metropolis) but fully independent. The Phoenicians were much the same, with some of the daughter cities (Carthage means literally "new city") eventually becoming new cultures far from their home cities. Similarily, why should interstellar exploration mean the spread of a united state with a capital and all? Imagine that when interstellar ships depart, they do with the idea that they are going to create a completely new home, a new poleis, not an extension of the nations or organizations that sponsored them but rather more of a 'child' culture light years away from their motherland. As they develop in mostly isolation from each other, they will become new cultures on their own, while retaining ties to the ones most similar to them. This is, in my opinion, the most realistic scenario without FTL. With FTL, however, things get more interesting, as of course, Greek and Phoenician and other poleis didn't remain isolated light-years from each other, they had permanent contact. With FTL they could organize in leagues, perhaps even alliances for the ocassional military campaigns, trade and exchange of ideas, tourism and industry, and of course the Olympics.

The Wormholes Always Run In Time Model

As I've said, wormholes are pretty much like space railroads. Railroads, like other big infrastructure projects, need a centralized authority to be built and maintained. And once you are the central authority that does so, you're already in charge of the biggest arteries of trade and communication. Which makes you basically an empire, officially or not. In fact, this is the closest I imagine a space society would resemble the states we're familiar with here on Earth. If you have control over transport and the hubs of trade and politics, and that transport and communication network allows you to implent your policies, your rule might go very far indeed, and indeed, your main hub might be a great capital, the main station of known space. Now, perhaps you might be imagining a literal space empire with nobles and all that. Why not instead something else? The Socialist Interstellar, connecting the many worlds of the galaxy through a five hundred year plan of railroad wormhole construction in the path to communism... However, this would mean that people outside of the wormhole network might develop in different ways, perhaps the equivalent of nomads to the great settled empires of antiquity. And given what I've briefly touched on Empire Time (*breakdances*), the expression "the portals always run in time" might imply even more than just an aphorism.

The Civilization Cluster Model

I'll admit this is taken from Poul Anderson, as quoted in Atomic Rockets, to which I owe an inmense debt for this post and so much more. The idea is this; space is big, as is well established. Even with FTL to shorten the distances, even if you could cross the galaxy in a few weeks, the sheer number of stars is still insanely massive. Why should any civilization 'colonize' those stars dot by dot, what value is there in invading or colonizing planets with incompatible biochemistries? And how could even begin to think how to administer a thousand different worlds, each one as complex as Earth itself, let alone an entire galaxy? In this case, civilizations, instead of spreading across the galaxy, would mostly remain in their own 'civilization clusters'; even with FTL, there are so many issues closer to home that the idea of projecting power outside is ridiculous. There would be trade, exchange of ideas, and so much more between these clusters, but never constant enough and never with the authority necessary to create a "Galactic Empire"… the worlds are too many, too diverse, too populated and too far away for that. An interstellar traveller could roam the Galaxy for years exploring these clusters spread away from each other, with their own unique idiosyncracies and civilizations inside, and then a vast expanse of mostly nothing outside them. Basically, space is too big. I like to see them as constellations among the dark sky, hence the artwork.

The No Man's Sky Model

To live in space, you need complex technology, but also resilient and durable technology ready for any kind of situation, easy to repair and replace. So eventually, I believe designs would be standarized so much that every astronaut will carry or own a collection of standarized tools (somehow this reminds me of prehistoric tool cultures). Now, even with FTL, there's perhaps little material incentive for people to leave their comfortable homeworld or habitat to live in cold space. But some will, perhaps because of the sheer thrill of it, perhaps very small bands of families or friends. With a standarized tool kit for any ocassion, these small bands would spread across space, much like ancient humans spread across the world. But instead of creating space empires, without a fixed industrial base, they would be nomads. Which doesn't mean they would roam aimlessly, they would be seeking new biospheres, new resources and new cultures, and gathering in temporary or permanent market places, festivals and pilgrimages. Perhaps they could even be the majority of humans in space, while most others stay cozy on Earth.

...

This was a very long post and it took a lot work to make, so I hope you had as much fun reading it as it was for me to write it. If you did, and if you would like to see more, I would be very, very grateful if you donated to my Ko-Fi below. Anything helps a lot especially since my country is not doing great at this time governed by a libertarian idiot (not even the fun space kind), and even a little tip encourages me to post more, I'm always working on your suggestions! You can also contact me by DM or asks if you need any help with your worldbuilding or just want to rant with me a bit! See you next time, and thanks for reading.

#worldbuilding #science fiction #sci-fi #writing #writing advice #space #history #cosas mias

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frostyhelltime · 4 months

Note

Good morning/afternoon! Love your work so much! Could you write what reactions Vox, Alastror and Lucifer (my favorote trio haha) would have when they first realise they have feelings for someone? Like, they are not dating yet, they just got first "o sh*t" moment while eating breakfast or something.

Sorry this took so long! ❤️ Alastor's got COMPLETELY away from me and did not end up being as small as Lucifer and Vox, so I'm gonna give Alastor his own post which you can find HERE.

And thank you!! You're so kind and I hope you like my writing for this as well! I had a lot of fun so feel free to send more requests! ❤️

Vox and Lucifer Realize They Have Feelings For You

Vox x GN!Reader

Lucifer x GN!Reader

Vox

Vox genuinely confuses his feelings of love with simple lust and friendship for the longest time.

It's his possessive nature that helps him realize it's actual feelings instead of just something sexual he wants.

Plus a little ribbing from Valentino and Velvette when that possessive nature shows.

Whether you've had sex with him or not yet is irrelevant. He thinks what he feels for you is just lust, and you get along well and don't frustrate him like his cohorts often do. So obviously he enjoys having you by his side and spending time with you.

But it's Valentino's pushing and prodding that makes him realize, and as soon as he does actually realize it, he goes into planning mode.

Vox wasn't always the biggest fan of the loud club the trio found themselves at, but the music was a little quieter in this VIP section away from the crowds. Which made it a lot easier to actually relax with the drink in his hand as he listens to Valentino chatter about something he's only half listening to until he says your name.

He thinks perhaps Val hadn't noticed, but the way Vox's eyes clearly focused in on Valentino when they hadn't been before says everything, and Vox decides not to comment on the shit-eating grin the moth is wearing.

"Sorry. What did you say about them?" He asks for clarification, since all he actually zoned back in for was your name.

“They're very beautiful, no? I think I'll ask them to star in something. I already have a script that would be perfect for the-” Val is about to continue talking about it when Vox immediately snaps, posture becoming rigid as he speaks before he can even realize what he's saying.

“Fuck no Val.” His face has a look of genuine disgust and the visceral way he responded even has Velvette looking up from her phone for a moment, especially after hearing the distortion in his voice. She's eyeing him to try and figure out what the reaction was for.

Valentino only blinks a few times as if processing actually being told no, and then trying to figure out why. But as soon as it hits him the befuddled expression turns to one of delighted bemusement, snickering as he grinned saliciously at Vox.

“Oh~ I didn't realize you had a little amorcito you were hiding from us.” Valentino sounds so smug as he uses his long cigarette to tilt Vox's face up to see him better. Velvette just snorts a laugh, putting her phone down fully now. This was far more entertaining.

But Vox still didn't get the memo yet apparently.

“Amor…? What. No. We're not dating. I have no idea what you're talking about but you're not asking them to star in one of your flicks.” Vox says concretely even though he's very confused by Valentino's suggestion, pushing the cigarette away from his face in annoyance. Velvette just raises an eyebrow, locking eyes with Val as if to silently ask if their companion was truly this dumb. At least in this area. Val just shrugs and Vox watches this silent exchange, just becoming more vexed by it.

“What?! I can't say someone is off limits?!” He's quickly getting annoyed by the way they're both acting.

“Oh no no. You can ask for someone to be off limits….but no one asks for just anyone to be off limits.” Velvette explains, trying to lead this horse to water, trying to coax his line of thinking in the right direction.

“Well duh. They're great company and I don't want Val or his people ruining that.” Vox says coolly, trying to reel himself back in to maintain his composure.

“Oh, so it's just Val and his lackeys you don't want being intimate with them? Then it should be fair game for me to throw my hat in the ring, yeah?” Velvette asks, tilting her head cockily, a knowing smirk on her face. She didn't actually want to pursue you. She was just baiting him.

"We'd be the cutest couple on Sinstagram don't you-"

But Vox is immediately snapping, taking said bait without even realizing.

“No!”

Another, heavier voice distortion colors the word.

“So it's anyone being with them that pisses you off? That sounds like a genuine crush, not just ‘great company’, campañero~” Valentino takes another drag of his cigarette before taking another sip of his drink, adjusting the busty demon currently sitting on his lap to be his eye candy and thing to squeeze tonight.

Said demon is pointedly avoiding all of their eyes, as if to silently tell them she doesn't hear shit and she won't be repeating anything she hears herself. She values her afterlife enough to know to not mention this to anyone.

Vox’s expression goes through multiple stages, indignation, surprise, confusion, amusement, disbelief, annoyance, and eventually…

“...Holy shit.” He eventually whispers leaning back in his seat, eyes wide as Velvette claps.

“Theeeeere it is! Knew you'd get there eventually.” She snickers, as well as Val, both ignoring the pointed glare Vox was sending them now.

He's not even going to bother dignifying it with a response. He wouldn't give them the pleasure.

For now he just leans back further, grumpily folding his arms and continuing to sip his drink as he thinks.

Now that he's aware he can figure out what to do. Like there is anything to figure out anyway. He's charismatic and rich and powerful. What sinner wouldn't want to be the one to earn his affections? With that certainty in his mind at least, he loosens up a little, relaxing. Surely he can approach you tomorrow. For now he'll just relax here, and let Velvette and Valentino have their silly little laugh while they can enjoy it.

Lucifer

He's the fastest to realize.

Partially because he's actually been in love before so he's familiar with the feeling.

But he's also the first to panic because of it, wondering what Charlie will think.

Their relationship was just beginning to rebuild itself and he's scared about what such a big change would do to what he's rebuilt so far.

He most likely realizes when he's talking to Charlie actually.

Charlie is talking about how much she loves Vaggie, how everything reminds Charlie of her, or how if she sees something wonderful her immediate thought is that she wants to bring Vaggie there.

She's just talking about how she just loves Vaggie so much she just wants to share everything with her, boring and exciting!

And that is when it clicks for him, eyes widening.

“And despite the people of Cannibal Town being…interesting…They have amazing gardens and a gazebo and I can't wait to surprise Vaggie with a date there!” Charlie is talking at the typical fast pace she does when she is immeasurably excited, Lucifer just grinning and nodding along and just enjoying her sharing news about her life with him. There was so much he felt he still didn't know about his daughter and he was very eager to make up for lost time.

“And I heard this amazing new song that made me think of her! It went something like….Oh how did it go...?” Charlie trails off before attempting to sing what words she did remember.

“Or something like that! Anyways! Ugh I even love just sitting next to her while I write out new trust exercises!” She gushes, clasping her hands together as she continues to wax poetic about Vaggie. Others in the hotel didn't really care or were just tired of hearing it, and Lucifer wanted to spend time with her regardless of what they spent the time doing. So it made sense she would gush about her wonderful girlfriend to her dad, who patiently and happily listened to almost anything she wanted to talk about.

At some point during this monologue that he nodded and made noises of acknowledgement during, he stiffened, eyes widening as he realized the parallels between Charlie and himself that he hadn't really thought about before now.

Whenever he saw a pretty part of Pentagram City, his first thought was to show you. When he tried a new restaurant, his thought afterwards was always ‘Good enough to take you there.’ or ‘Not good enough to take you there.’ He adores the time when you're just sitting next to him, reading a book, or drawing, or whatever strikes your fancy that day as he toils away at his latest invention. He just enjoys…existing with you, even if no one is talking. Even mundane things like what he did that morning are things he finds he wants to share with you…he hears songs of love and happiness and his thoughts drift to you without even realizing until the song is over. If all of those things are things Charlie feels about Vaggie…then…

Fuck.

When did this even happen?! At what point did you turn from just a delightful part of his day to a required part of his day? How long has he had these feelings?! Why didn't he realize he had these feelings?!

Okay! No need to panic! He's been in love before. He can handle this. Right? He's the king of hell. Surely he can handle some feelings. He had been in love before!

…Except back then it had been completely obvious the feeling was reciprocated because they literally fell to hell together.

He's still panicking a little inwardly but…perhaps Charlie could help with some suggestions? He doesn't really know if he trusts anyone else to ask them that vulnerable of a question. To expose a weak point a sinner could gleefully take advantage of, to put you in harm's way. He also trusts you of course, but for obvious reasons he can't discuss that with you.

He realizes in his panicked internal monologue he's missed a good chunk of what Charlie has just said, and she realized it too, judging by the concerned look on her face.

“Dad? You in there?” She asks, leaning over him and waving a hand in front of his face to try and grab his attention, smiling when his eyes focused back on her.

"Whew! Thought I lost you there!" She laughs, shoulders relaxing now that he seems to be okay.

“Yes! I'm right here CharChar! Uh. Actually…now that I think about it I was wondering if I could ask you about something…” He trails off, taking her arm and beginning to walk to a more secluded area of the hotel to talk.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #ask #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

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lukolabrainrot · 17 days

Note

Long ask anon with an even longer ask (I truly don’t know how to make long story short, but I can do the reverse), sorry. I am dividing this in two parts in case you decide to post this, so it would not be such an essay.

Part 1. Intro

Something has been eating up at me for a while but I only recently gathered the courage to do anything more than lurking. I actually am quite new to this, mostly because I was not allowing myself to even get into this in the first place. I am a very chill person when it comes to celebrities, I truly couldn’t care less about their lives, don’t even follow them on SM (L and N included) (not that I use SM all that much to begin with), I don’t know why but it always seems strange for me to be invested in strangers’ lives. I am not big of a fan girl either, especially media wise, I am much more interested in books and have no patience for tv shows most of the time. All of this to say, this is unusual behavior for me, watching all of the interviews with repetitive questions (those poor actors having to repeat themselves over and over again), paying attention to actors (beyond just knowing their names).

Polin is one of the rare ships that captured my interest, so I was very excited to learn about s3 being them, and when the wait for even the slightest info seem to be dragging on endlessly those interviews served as a great entertainment. Until they were not, until I started noticing things I wished not to. What started as “oh, they are so cute, and charming, and their friendship is so endearing!” very quickly turned into “babes, WHAT THE F*CK DID I JUST SAW/HEARD?” At one point I was honestly thinking “did I miss something? Are they together? What is going on?” So I checked, out of curiosity nothing more, but found nothing OFFICIAL suggesting that (as in N nor L never claimed anything). So I moved on, watched the show, other interviews (my brows still rising at some points), and then post Part 2 premiere I saw the picture on IG.

Everyone on internet seemed to be screaming about Ls’ GF, and being absolutely vile to him, which I found so disgusting I immediately checked out of the situation and turned my attention back on fiction again. It would be insincere of me not to admit to a certain disappoint on such a development, but that was as far as it would go. Though I can also truthfully say that that girl was not giving me the best impression based on the picture, something just seemed off. I only saw one at that point, where it appeared as if they were holding hands, why did it seem off? Because L looked displeased, almost angry, his eyes averted from cameras, while she was boldly looking right on them smiling as if she was walking her red carpet. As I said that was that, just continued watching the show, reading Polin fanfiction, hung out on a Polin reddit account and some Polin Tumblr blogs. And then I stumbled upon your blog (it was already past papgate 2.0), and now I’m on this bloody ship, and can not seem to force myself overboard, because those two are so soulmate coded (and yes, I realize how cheesy that sounds).

What has been bugging me, is that most, if not all, in this fandom seem to be of the opinion that L is the primary reason why N/L are yet to develop into lovers phase of this friends to lovers arc. From outright blaming him to passive aggressively calling him a dummy for not going after N. And I comprehend that most of it comes from the presence of a certain adjacent. But putting aside the OBVIOUS, LOGICAL point that we, non of us, are privy to their real lives, and bts truth, I still don’t see where that point of view comes from. I know that everyone says L is most like his character, so perhaps part of it is projection of that, but for me it always seems that L is actually a Penelope of this situation. To me, he himself gives it away.

Same Anon... same!

I have never thought L was the hang up in this situation. I think N has been burned in love, is pretty closed off with this stuff, and a TOTAL workaholic. L DEFINITELY fell first (no one can convince me otherwise). L also seems to kind of be a hopeless romantic and public lover boy, which I don't think N is use to. But I feel like that is why they kind of balance each other out ❤️️

#lukola theories #just some thoughts

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robbie-wallis · 5 months

Text

I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can

Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.

I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.

If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.

But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.

Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.

Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.

WATCHER HISTORY

You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".

Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".

They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.

Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.

Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.

Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.

They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.

Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.

Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.

Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.

They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.

THE DEMISE

So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.

Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.

The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.

Comparable to Netflix.

And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.

Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.

From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.

They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.

Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.

Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.

Why did they do this?

Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.

A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.

The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.

In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.

WHY IT WILL NOT WORK

Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.

I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.

This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all

Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.

The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.

The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.

Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.

Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.

Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.

The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".

And... IN THIS ECONOMY?

Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.

This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.

If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.

Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.

This ain't Netflix, y'all

As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.

Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.

You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.

We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.

Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.

They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.

I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.

They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.

Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.

This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.

This ain't good marketing, y'all

They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.

Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.

Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.

If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.

Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.

A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?

The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.

This ain't good financial management, y'all

I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.

I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.

This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.

Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.

They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.

They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.

They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.

By leaving YouTube they've lost:

Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)

Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.

Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.

Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?

And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.

I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.

This ain't nice, y'all

Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.

Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.

I get it.

Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.

They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.

These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.

They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.

They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.

"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"

You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.

In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".

They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.

Can it get worse? Sure!

We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.

The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.

Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.

The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.

This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)

Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.

If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.

But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.

They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.

People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.

Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.

Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.

Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.

Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.

Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.

This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.

What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.

They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.

And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.

Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?

The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.

That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?

The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.

They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.

Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?

I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.

I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.

EDIT:

I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.

Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.

Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.

I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.

No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.

That's just not the reality.

Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.

#watcher #ghoul boys #steven lim #watcher entertainment #shane and ryan #ghost files

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