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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

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Actions Speak Louder | Pre-War!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - based off of this post by @thomashelbyswife

Pairing: pre-war!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy’s never one to say sorry…that doesn’t mean that he isn’t though.

Warnings: one bad word

Word Count: 1404

A/N: M, your headcannon immediately sparked this idea. I just had to write it. And I may have gotten a bit carried away. This is the fastest I’ve written something in a long time. Thank you so much for the inspiration!! I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy knew he’d messed up the second he entered his bedroom to see (Y/N) standing at the bedside with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face. The problem was he didn’t know what he’d done.

“Hey,” he tried, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she made sure he’d caught her look before she went about taking off her jewelry and getting ready for bed. Tommy frowned at her lack of response before he shut the door and walked over to her. He said her name in a soft voice, hoping that it would get her to turn.

She continued with what she was doing, not yet acknowledging him. Tommy sighed in response. He tipped his head to the side in thought, thinking of how he could get her to look at him. It wasn’t hard to notice that she was not happy with him. Words weren’t working, so maybe actions would.

He reached out and took hold of her hips, holding them for a second to test the waters. (Y/N) didn’t resoond. So he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him so that he could tuck his chin into the crook of her neck. “What’s wrong, love?” he queried, attempting to press his lips to her neck, but she titled away from him. This only added to his confusion.

“I can’t believe you, Tommy,” she huffed under her breath, dropping her hands to his firearms and applying pressure to them, hoping he’d get her hint and let go.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what her statement meant. Meanwhile she was still pushing down on his forearms. She held the pressure on them until he dropped them from her, allowing her to step away and finally turn to face him.

“What have I done?” he asked after a few moments had passed and his brain-wracking had turned up empty.

(Y/N) scoffed at his question, shaking her head at his answer. “Of course you wouldn’t have remembered.”

“Remembered what?” he was still lost. It only added to her irritation.

“You were supposed to come to dinner with my parents tonight. We were going to go over plans for the wedding. My father was going to give us some money towards it, but now he’s not so sure if he should be letting me marry you at all,” she filled him in on the commitment he’d forgotten while biting on the inside of her cheek in hopes that it’d stop her welled up tears from falling.

Tommy froze upon hearing what he’d missed. His jaw went slack as he wracked his brain in hopes that there’d be some sort of inkling of rememberance of the day’s plans, but there was nothing.

Anger was building up inside (Y/N) with each quiet second that passed. His silence was frustrating her, maybe even more so than his earlier absence was. “Do you have anything to say?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“I got caught up at the stables,” he told her, his answer making her scoff and look away as she rolled her eyes. Obviously it wasn’t enough to clear him of his wrongdoings.

Silence fell between them then. A couple beats passed before (Y/N) looked at him again, expectantly this time. It was obvious that she wanted something else from him. But Tommy wasn’t catching onto it. “That’s all you have to say?” she finally questioned him when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak unless spoken to.

“Love, I…” the words died on this lips as he then stepped back from her, turning to the armoire as he began undoing the buttons of his waistcoat.

Shock filled (Y/N)’s features as she glared at her fiancé’s back. What are you doing?! she screamed at him in her mind. But nothing was said as she watched him take the waistcoat off and drop the braces from his shoulders. He then worked on taking his boots off, kicking them to sit next to the wardrobe before he finally turned back around. (Y/N) was still glaring at him.

“Are you seri—” the exasperated question got caught in (Y/N)’s throat as Tommy cut the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her frame.

His hug was tight, and he swayed her from side to side as his arms stayed fastened around her waist despite her hands pressing against his shoulders.

“Tommy, you can’t just…whoa!” the direction of her statement changed as he spun them and dropped both of their bodies to the bed.

His arms unraveled from her waist as they were falling so that he wouldn’t crush her with his body weight. They moved up to trap her underneath him. He immediately tucked his face into her neck and began placing kisses to the skin he found there.

“Tommy,” she breathed as she tried to push him off of her, but to no avail. “Tom, you’re not being fair!” she shrieked as his lips connected with the sensitive spot on her neck; a spot that he knew all too well.

His kisses trailed up to her jaw and across her cheek before his lips found the corner of hers. The feeling was now driving (Y/N) wild, slowly making her forget what she’d been upset over as all of her senses became focused on his actions.

He pulled away just slightly so that he could look at her, his eyes traveling over her face; seeing that her look of frustration was slowly slipping away. “Fuck your father’s money. I’ll get what we need to pay for our wedding,” he told her before his lips matched hers, properly this time.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathed when they pulled away, biting on her lip to hide her smile as she took his cheeks into her hands, lifting his face further away from hers. Their eyes met and he cracked a smile, one that made her insides flutter. She tried to act angry, scrunching her nose and eyebrows in hopes that her true feelings didn’t show. Tommy found it adorable.

“What?” he asked her, reaching up to brush a piece of hair from her face.

“You’re trying to get yourself out of this,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Is it working?”

“No.”

Tommy pouted upon hearing her response, and he dropped his head against her chest, burying his face into her sternum and breathing in her intoxicating sent before he let out a whine.

That did (Y/N) in. She tried to hide it, but the shaking of her chest was a dead giveaway that she laughed at his actions. He clocked that immediately, his hands moving to her sides where her shirt had rode up so that he could brush his fingers against her sensitive skin. She shrieked at the feeling, squirming under him as she tried to get him to stop. Now her anger was the furthest thing from her mind.

His actions continued until she managed to grab his hands and remove them from her sides. She then lifted his face again, making him look at her once more as she tried with all of her might to keep a straight face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” she told him, unable to stop the smirk from tugging one corner of her lips upwards.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked with raised eyebrows, waiting on bated breath for her answer. When it didn’t come right away, he jutted his bottom lip outwards, hoping that pouting might help.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath at the sight in front of her. She just couldn’t resist him when he was like this. Somehow, he’d managed to make her mood do a complete flip. His persistence was something that drew her to him, but it was times like these when she hated it. She wanted to stay angry at him, but she really couldn’t. Not when his lips were looking more kissable by the second.

“Hmm?” he asked her, getting antsy with each second she stayed quiet.

(Y/N) bit on her bottom lip, sending him one last glare before giving into him and mumbling a “yes”. Tommy couldn’t even celebrate. She didn’t give him time to. The second she spoke, she pulled his face to hers so that their lips could crash together. It wasn’t like he was going to dispute it though…her kiss told him everything he needed.

Read Part 2 -> HERE

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year ago

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Dewdrops - Asra

notes - Asra brainrot bad dudes. He is so fine and I have been wanting to kiss him all week, so here's a lil fic lol. I hope you enjoy and stay hydrated!! <33 @thearcanagame yall should hire me to write arcana stories haha jkjk... unless tee hee word count - 538 ~~BUY ME A KO-FI (COMMISIONS ARE OPEN)~~

You woke up delirious, blinking rapidly to get the bright sun out of your eyes. The air felt different than usual. Humid. Cold.

You felt that you were somewhere familiar, but there was also something strange about it.

A dream. Yeah, that was the best way to describe it.

You still couldn't see, so you tried to sit up and block your eyes from the brightness above you. When you sat up, you felt something fall from you, like a weight. But it sounded like you were under water.

What was going on?

You were finally able to see a little bit better after a couple more blinks and saw that you were definitely somewhere dream like. And you looked like you were just lying in a pond.

You tilted you head and tried to stand up, but your legs were much to weak for that.

The water you were in, you noticed, changed from shades of purple to blue and even looked like there was glitter swirling at the bottom.

But what shocked you the most is when you turned next to you to find Asra fast asleep in the pond. There were dewdrops in his hair and falling from his lips.

How the heck did you two end up here?

"Asra." You tried lightly shaking him to wake him up, but nothing. "Asra! Hey, wake up!"

You watched his white eyelashes flutter open until they shut again, probably from the brightness of the sun, if that even was the sun.

You blocked it nonetheless and cupped Asra's face, wiping the water away from the corners of his eyes. "Asra."

His eyes finally opened and he smiled when he saw you. As he sat up - holding you in his lap - water dripped from his clothes and his body.

There was a dewdrop on his lip that looked rather kissable...

"Where are we?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eye.

"No clue. I thought you would've known, almighty Master Asra."

"Ew," he giggled. "Don't call me that. Just... let me get my bearings. I should be able to tell."

You got off of his lap and tucked his wet hair behind his ear while he looked around.

You both knew where you were. A sprit realm of some kind. But how you got there was beyond you.

"A spell..." Asra slowly began to remember. "Hm. Must've hit us hard."

"You don't think it was me, do you?" you asked frantically.

"No, I don't think so. And even if it was, I guess fate was telling us we needed a nap. Either way," he stood up and stretched, reaching his hand out to yours. "We'll figure it out along the way. Let's get going, yeah?"

You nodded and took his hand, letting him help you up. Your legs were still weak, but with Asra's help, you would be fine.

"You have water on your lips." you told him cheekily.

"Oh? Than why not help get it off." he smirked.

You pressed your lips to his, licking of the water lightly. He held you by the waist and pressed his chest to yours smiling in the kiss.

He didn't have the heart to tell you that you messed up a spell.

~~~~~

the arcana masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

#writing #my writing #jesus he's so hot #help #i love this game #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #the arcana #arcana #the arcana x reader #arcana x reader #asra #asra x reader #asra alnazar #asra alnazar x reader #<3

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kiigan · 10 months ago

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⇾ Main rule: ㅤPlease be nice and respectful. I try my best to make this blog a safe space for everybody, irrespective of gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, religion, etc., and I expect the same courtesy in return.

ㅤMore info in general about how I run this blog and how I am as a roleplay partner can be found [here] and [here].

⇾ Followers and Mutuals: ㅤI don't do follow-for-follows and I'm not here for numbers. If I follow you, I want to interact with you and I assume that is also why you follow me. I reserve myself the right to unfollow/block blogs that I cannot see myself interacting with and/or that make me uncomfortable in any way, and I highly encourage you to do the same to me if it's ever needed.

ㅤFor personal blogs: I usually do not follow back personals because I like to keep a focused dash or else I get easily overwhelmed. Personals are welcome to interact, however! Feel free to send questions, anons, memes/promts, etc. Personals are also welcome to like and leave comments on my posts but, please, refrain from reblogging roleplay threads (it messes up the notifications).

⇾ Interactions: ㅤAlways feel free to come poke at me in the DMs (or to ask for my Discord!), tag me on a starter, ask me for a starter, send something to my inbox. Unprompted asks are always welcome and the memes/prompts I reblog don't have expiration date, feel free to send at any time. Also, always feel free to continue asks. And I don't really care for reblog karma, reblog all the things directly from me if you wanna.

ㅤI prefer plotted interactions, but I'm also open to winging stuff. Also, I do prefer interactions with at least a half-paragraph of content, because honestly I am very bad at one-liners. Multiple threads with the same person are welcome, as well as interactions with different muses from a same multi-muse blog. Fair warning: I sometimes get wordy in my replies! Please never feel like you have to match reply length. Provided there's content to work with and we're having fun, that's what matters to me.

ㅤI add some formatting to my posts (mostly, different colors and font sizes) and I don't use icons, and I'm okay with any style in my partners' replies. If you need me to keep my own replies looking simple and unformatted, just let me know.

ㅤLast but never least: please don't ever feel like you owe me anything. I'm very patient when it comes to replies (also I can be incredibly slow myself) and roleplay is for fun, not to add to irl stress. Take care of yourself and always put your well-being first!

⇾ Content: ㅤThe following themes feature heavily in my portrayal: children as soldiers, children expected to act as adults, blood and injuries, death, (progressive) chronic/terminal illness, (progressive) blindness, mental illness symptoms, genocide represented by the Uchiha massacre, segregation and discrimination perpetrated on the Uchiha clan, canon-typical violence, canon-typical eye gore, manipulation associated with the use of genjutsu.

ㅤThese themes will NOT be tagged, because they are integral to Itachi as a character. Other potential triggers are tagged as: [insert trigger] cw. Sexual content is tagged as nsft cw and will usually be placed under a Read More cut. If you need something in specific to be tagged, let me know. As for myself, please tag anything related to animal harm/abuse/cruelty. I’m open to exploring dark/ angsty/ dead dove themes, provided both muns are of age, rightfully consent, and are comfortable with it.

⇾ Relationships: ㅤYes please. Developing and exploring dynamics between muses is actually one of my favorite things to do! I'm open for all sorts of bonds: romantic, platonic, family, friends, friends with benefits, exes, enemies, rivals, hateships, crackships, all of it. This blog is multi-ship and each thread happens in its own universe, unless plotted otherwise. Regarding sexual content, I personally feel comfortable writing it explicitly, however I will always respect what my partners prefer (like making it vague or fade to black entirely).

#rules

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pochipop · 2 years ago

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＃DILUC RAGNVINDR !! ♡ — DROWN ME IN YOUR FLAMES - PROLOGUE + CHAPTER I: PHOENIX, RISING.

#. synopsis! — in an attempt to hide his ailing health, your father breaks a cardinal rule known to all but every citizen across teyvat: do not trust any member of the fatui unless you’re looking for trouble. left to shoulder the weight of his mistakes, you find yourself reunited with a once-beloved childhood friend who’s changed quite drastically since you last stumbled along the edge of wolvendom together. now, as you suffocate in the dripping maw of teyvat’s twisted underworld, clinging to diluc arouses one too many feelings than you know what to do with, many of them just as ill-timed as your reunion. down here, few rules are abided by and bitter truths lie just beneath the surface. mora spills like blood from wealthy, tainted palms; —and one thing remains far too clear for comfort: people like you do not belong here .

#. characters! — diluc .

#. warnings! — violence, generally dark content, graphic depictions of fights/injuries .

#. word count! — 1.1k (prologue) + 4.8k (chapter 1) .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. to be added to my taglist for this series! — this fic is an ongoing, multi-chapter work inspired by stories like levius and kengan ashura! because it will span several posts, if you'd like to be added to a taglist in order to be notified of updates, please feel free to let me know in either of the following ways: sending me a private message on tumblr or commenting under this post .

How? How could your father have done something so completely, utterly, all-encompassingly foolish? It was bad enough that he’d been colluding with agents of the Fatui, —but to also be hiding his poor health atop it all? The news of it came like a raging typhoon, snuffing out so much in a single instance. You had so many questions, so many things to say, but you sat in utter silence, unsure of how to unravel the harrowing mess of tangled threads festering in your mind. In the end, you stood from your place on the living room sofa, the one your father used to carry you from late at night when you’d doze off and he was keen on tucking you into bed.

The door clinked shut behind you, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you set off. If word of this were to spread, your family’s long-beloved bakery would undoubtedly fail. Even the loyalest of customers wouldn’t be caught dead spending their Mora at an establishment working with the Fatui. They’ve done nothing but create unrest amongst the citizens of Mondstadt for far too long, —lingering about the public with their mask-adorned faces and threatening the blissful lives of city-goers with their underhanded deals.

Working with them was like working for the devil, and even those who’ve long chosen to forgo the will of the Archons wouldn’t dare test their luck in such a manner.

You’re angry, but even more than that, you’re hurt. It’s painful to know that even your own father didn’t see you as being worthy of his honesty. If he’d just been truthful when his health began to decline, so much of this would be different. Sure, maybe Mora would have been tight during the course of his treatment, but struggling for a while or picking up some odd jobs here and there would have been miles better than this. He was playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes.

Atop it all, so much more had been put at risk than would have been necessary under normal circumstances.

And. . . He was sick. Your loving, doting father was ill, and there was nothing you could do about it at present. His health was failing, and you were powerless to stop the flow of nature in that direction. None of this was fair. A part of you even held onto lingering hopes that this was just a dream —a nightmare— that you’d be able to wake up from.

But you had to plan for the worst in spite of that. So you swallowed your pride and slipped a poorly-scrawled note into the hand of a dispatched agent in passing, afraid that having even a quick conversation in public would raise far too many red flags amongst your fellow Mondstadters. You felt like a lowly criminal in the time that followed, sitting beneath a wide tree just past the edge of Wolvendom. When you were younger, you often came here. Back then, it was an innocent gesture of youth, —playful giggles spilling from open-mouthed smiles as you dashed and jumped about with your friends.

It dawns on you then, albeit rather inopportunely, that you haven’t spoken to most of them in quite a while. Not even Diluc, who you’d have ventured to call your best friend at one point in time. As you let your mind wander a bit, you wonder how he’s doing now. . . How all of your past friends have gotten about since you last saw them and were privy to the ins and outs of their lives.

“You,” a gruff, agitated voice calls out to you, shattering the peaceful silence, “—what’s this about?”

The note you’d slipped into his hand dangles from his pinched fingertips, a wiry scowl etched into his lips. It’s the only feature of his face you’re able to catch sight of, the rest hidden behind his Fatui mask. You pull yourself to your feet upon his arrival.

He seems like a generally unpleasant fellow, —the kind of guy most would assume to be working for such a twisted organization. You’d picked him out of the crowd because he had a slighter frame than the others you’d passed, and mistakenly assumed because he seemed less physically formidable that perhaps he wouldn’t be quite as difficult to deal with as the rest.

You were pretty off base, in all actuality.

“Tell me how to pay off a debt to your group,” you request, though it sounds more like a demand.

It can’t really be helped when you’re aggravated to this degree, but a part of you cringes at the bossy tone you’ve taken. It’s unlike you.

“A debt?” He sneers, and you can just imagine the way his judgemental eyes have slit themselves into mocking lines behind the mask he dons. “What kind?”

“I don’t know,” you snap, “—the kind you trick desperate people into taking on, I guess.”

“If you were stupid enough to take it on, I don’t see how it’s any of my concern as to whether you pay it off or not,” he shrugs. “Go find the one you made the deal with in the first place. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“I wasn’t stupid enough to do anything,” you retort.

“Then stop playing hero for whoever you care about that was,” he answers bluntly. “They’ll either figure it out themselves, —or they won’t. We’re both just bystanders in this one, so my suggestion is that you sit back and watch. You might even have some fun.”

“Maybe you get off on watching innocent people suffer, but that’s really not my cup of tea,” you reply.

“What, so we’re the evil creatures lurking in the shadows and everyone who chooses to work with us of their own free will is just a hapless little rabbit getting pounced on by some big, bad wolves?” He challenges. “Get real for a second. It takes two to tango, and your friend, family member, —whoever it is, they did this to themself. I think it’s high time you stop meddling in other people’s affairs.”

It annoys you that he’s being so sanctimonious about this, —but it’s worse that he’s right. Your father, as much as you love and care about him, is far from innocent in this matter. In fact, he may just be the one holding the most blame for it all, even above the Fatui themselves.

“Whatever,” you try to brush him off, though his words sting in spite of your attempt at indifference. “Just tell me how to fix this.”

“Sorry,” he answers, —and you know he isn’t in the slightest because of the way he snickers right after.

“Haven't got a clue.”

With that, he turns away, likely to return to his place in Mondstadt City. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, squeezing so tightly that your nails dig into the flesh of your palms.

“Even if I did though,” he calls out, never looking back your way, “it’s not like I’d tell you.”

“Thank you!” Amber says happily, taking a fresh loaf of bread from your hands with a grateful smile.

“Of course,” you answer, “it was nice seeing you!”

She’s always a treat to have around, so unabashedly kind and considerate. Despite her busy job as Mondstadt’s highly renowned Outrider, she often makes time to support the local businesses around the city, and your family’s bakery is no exception.

“You too, y/n! Let’s find some time to catch up sometime soon!”

You nod your head in confirmation, offering her the best smile you can muster up in your tired state. The sun is quickly setting behind the rolling hills of Teyvat, and you’re readying yourself to close the shop up for the night. With your father laid up in bed for the time being and your mother taking time away from the bakery to care for him, you’ve been left to handle things here alone.

It’s not a particularly difficult job, really. You’re used to the motions of it by now, having grown up around it and all, —but the responsibility weighs heavy on your shoulders since finding out about your father’s more illicit affairs. Your mother doesn’t know the extent of it, and in spite of your better judgment, you promised your father you wouldn’t be the one to tell her of the situation. He swore he’d do it when the right time presented itself, but if that doesn’t come to pass soon, you’re prepared to drop the bomb yourself; even if it means betraying his trust.

For now though, you wipe the counter down with a wet cloth, collecting crumbs and flour typical of a day’s work.

Just when it sparked your mind to flip the sign outside the door to closed, it swings open, and with it comes a familiar face. Long, fiery red hair tied back behind his head, gloves fitted over his hands, Diluc meets your gaze and strides toward you in long, deliberate steps. It’s been a while since you last saw him, —even longer since you last had any kind of meaningful conversation. Though you’d been quite close to him in your youth, the test of time had not been kind to your friendship, and after his father’s passing, he stopped coming around to the bakery altogether. It was rare to see him out and about, and you eventually stopped going to the Angel’s Share, if only out of fear you might cross his path and be left with nothing to say.

You can’t help the way you gawk a bit, taking him in. . . He doesn't look too dissimilar to the boy he once was, —just taller, more muscular, and sharper all around. Still, there’s an air about him that feels much more intimidating, and the blank expression he wears is much the opposite of the happy child you knew him to be when he was younger.

“Diluc,” you utter for the first time in Celestia knows how long.

Even his name feels foreign on your tongue.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“It has been quite some time since we last spoke, hasn’t it?”

You nod, noting the contrasting feelings bubbling up inside you. On one hand, there’s a sense of comfortable familiarity with him that seeks to quell your nerves, —but on the other, you’re forced to acknowledge that he isn’t the boy you once knew him to be. He’s a man now, and you’re none too acquainted with him as he stands before you.

“What can I get you?” You smile, assuming he’d stopped by for something like old time’s sake, maybe for one of your mother’s famous bread rolls that he used to gobble down in a matter of seconds.

“Actually, I’m not here to purchase anything,” he notes, dismissing your pleasantries. “I’m here to speak with you about your father’s affiliation with the Fatui.”

Your eyes widen as your blood runs cold. Even if you were to lie, your reaction gave you away completely.

“I’m. . . Not sure I have any idea what you’re talking about,” you reply after taking a few seconds to collect yourself.

He notes the way you fail to meet his eyes when you speak now, as if you’re ashamed on your father’s behalf. Diluc doesn’t seem angry or disappointed, but you know the baggage such an accusation comes with, and you’re certain that if he really does happen to know the truth that it’s greatly impacted his opinion of you. If the roles were reversed, you can’t say you wouldn’t feel similarly.

“You don’t have to lie,” he tells you. “I’ve known for quite some time. . . About his illness, the expense of the treatment, and his collusion with the Fatui as a result of it.”

“You. . . You knew?” The question spills from your lips laced with venom, —because if he’d known all along, why hadn’t you?

It wasn’t as if your father had anything to do with Diluc as far as you were aware. Moreover, he’d been so far removed from your family for so long now that it came as a slap in the face for him to have been so informed and yet you, the child of the man at the center, had been left completely out of the loop as if your feelings and right to know were just playthings to disregard at will.

“You knew for so long and yet you never came to me?”

Diluc purses his lips for a moment, thinking before he speaks. He understands why you’re angry, understands that you’re scared, worried, and stressed beyond belief. And that’s why he’s here now, even if it’s a little late.

“I didn’t think it was my place,” he answers. “The last thing I wanted to do was cause more damage where it wouldn’t be necessary.”

“Why is it suddenly your place now then?” You question. “What changed?”

“I know that you’ve personally been in contact with a dispatched agent here in Mondstadt.”

The way your face drops is subtler now, something you could likely play off if you put on a convincing enough performance going forward. This really isn’t the way you expected this reunion with Diluc to play out, full of twisted secrets and deceit, —but in this moment, he is not your friend. He’s a complete and utter stranger, and you’ve no obligations to him above that of your own family (no matter how stupid their decisions may be.)

“You can’t prove that,” you say with a shrug, hoping you sound more nonchalant than you feel. (You don’t.)

“I can’t,” he agrees, digging one of his gloved hands into his pocket.

From it he pulls a familiar slip of parchment. You don’t need to see the writing on it to know it was the same one you’d stuffed into the hands of a Fatui agent just a week prior.

“But I think we’d both agree I have enough evidence to make a reasonable assumption about it.”

As if to emphasize his point, he places the note on the counter before you. If it had eyes, you just know it would be staring up at you mockingly right about now.

“How did you get that?” You inquire, taking it into your hands in order to tear it in two.

Diluc doesn’t even flinch when you do so.

“Does it matter?” He answers your question with one of his own.

“It does,” you nod. “Because at this point, I think you really owe me some answers. Otherwise, this conversation is over.”

He isn’t fond of your hostility, but isn’t naive enough to question why you aren’t choosing to be trusting of him right off the bat. Knowing what he does, Diluc thinks it’s only natural for you to be reacting this way, —unable to take him at his word, and beyond that, unable to see him as an ally given the circumstances.

Nodding, his voice lowers to a cautious tone, as if he’s scared someone is lingering outside the door.

“Get rid of that,” he points to the fist where the torn note resides, “and meet me at the manor for Dawn Winery. We’ll talk there.”

You stare for a bit, as if searching his face for any signs of nefarious intent.

“. . . Fine,” you agree, albeit begrudgingly so. “But you’d better not be wasting my time with this, Diluc.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You took your anger out on that note before trudging your way to Dawn Winery. It was left in small, crumpled pieces, the message to meet you at the edge of Wolvendom unrecognizable by the time you were done with it. Once it was disposed of, you did a lot of thinking on the walk over. It wasn’t necessarily Diluc you were mad at. . . Maybe it was just the world at that point, every little thing striking all the wrong chords inside you. He was right, you suppose, that none of it was really any of his concern; at least not enough to have approached you about it before then.

It’s not like the two of you were best buddies. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d spoken to him. But really, that only proved to make you feel worse. He’d known so much while you’d known so little, —absolutely nothing at all, in fact. Your father had chosen to leave you in the dark, and for someone like Diluc to have been sat in the light, no matter how he came to be there. . . It just wasn’t right.

Upon your arrival, you were greeted warmly by the Dawn Winery staff. You guessed Diluc must have informed them in advance that you’d be showing up, as a sweet, bubbly maid quickly showed you to a room upstairs where Diluc and a man you’d never seen before sat and stood respectively around a round wooden table. A duo of teacups was placed on either side, and Diluc’s eyes seemed to follow you across the room as the young maid quickly shut the door behind you with a soft click.

“Have a seat,” he gestured. “The tea is freshly brewed, if you’re interested.”

You had no reason to deny it, so you took the warm cup into your hands and gingerly took a small drink of the fragrant liquid. It was quite flavorful, —if a little bitter in the aftertaste.

“Thanks,” you say, “but I’m not exactly here to sip tea with you.”

“I’m aware of that,” he replies, offering you the ghost of a smile.

It’s likely not the right time to be noticing such things, but he’s quite. . . Handsome. You’ve always known him to be cute, but there’s something endearing about the air of mystery that lingers over him now, though it’s just as equally annoying for the time being.

“I’ll start by introducing you to someone,” Diluc begins, glancing up at the man standing just beside the table.

He’d been so still and silent that you’d almost forgotten he was even there in the first place.

“This is Henley. He’s one of many individuals employed by myself working undercover with low-ranking Fatui agents across Teyvat.”

You let your gaze travel to his face. His features are sharp and he seems like a dignified young man, just a bit older than Diluc from the looks of it. Mousy hair falls in loose waves, barely touching the edge of his jaw on either side. Now that you’ve gotten a better look at him, he seems. . . Familiar. Your eyes squint up, and he lets out a soft tuft of breath, a smile finally cracking across his face.

“I take it you’ve noticed?” He asks.

Though his voice is much less growly than before, you’d recognize it anywhere. It’s been playing in your mind for days, spinning the same cycle out of control.

He’s the Fatui agent you spoke with not long ago, —the one who snapped at you and told you to sit back and watch your father be swallowed up by his debts.

You offer a sarcastic laugh, setting your stare on Diluc once more.

“That’s how you got the note?”

“Precisely,” he answers. “Henley’s also the reason I came to know about your father, —his illness, the deal he made with members of the Fatui, and now, the debt he’s drowning in.”

“Then maybe he can also give me some answers that my father wouldn’t,” you quip, looking up at Henley again. “How much debt has he racked up?”

When he came clean, your father sought to avoid specifics even then. In many ways, his honesty left you with more questions than answers, —which is why you solicited a Fatui agent to begin with, thinking one of them could give you the information you craved.

“I couldn’t say for certain,” Henley replies. “It wasn’t my deal, and even when agents brag, they keep the specifics to themselves.”

“Give me your best guess, then,” you request, fiddling with the handle of your teacup.

The man pauses before giving you a response.

“At present, probably a couple hundred thousand Mora,” he estimates. “But the Fatui don’t take kindly to those who borrow Mora they can’t pay back, so it could be more depending on how generous they’ve decided to be with him.”

A shaky breath passes your lips.

“I. . . I can’t afford that,” you say softly. “Even with all of my family’s savings put together, I don’t even think I’d be able to make a dent.”

Your stomach twists with anxiety. If you couldn’t manage to pay it back, there’s no telling what would happen. The family bakery would be long-gone, all the hard work leading up to such a dismal end. Worst of all, your father’s illness would be left untreated, and he’d be stuck withering away until there's nothing left.

“Lend me your ear for a bit,” Diluc chimes back in.

“What I’m about to tell you has to stay between us. If word gets out, there’s no telling what all could go wrong. Do you understand?”

Though you’re not sure you can really handle any more large-scale secrets right now, you give him an affirmative nod nonetheless. It can’t hurt to listen when you’ve already come this far.

“I understand.”

“Good,” he notes, not missing a beat. “I’ll be summing months of investigative work up as best I can, but if you have any questions, feel free to interrupt. And besides that, —the point I’m making is that working with me for a bit might just be a saving grace for you and your family.”

He’s got your full, undivided attention now, and you’re just praying he won’t misuse it.

“Henley, the map, please,” Diluc requests, holding a single gloved hand open.

The other man moves like some sort of machinery, pulling a rolled piece of paper from the inside of his coat. You catch a glimpse of the Fatui attire he wore not long ago just underneath the dark fabric. With refined precision, Diluc unravels the paper, revealing a map of Mondstadt. It’s a typical map of the nation, —nothing much out of the ordinary at first glance. But upon closer inspection, there’s a series of markings on the surface that don’t seem to pinpoint any important locations that you’re personally aware of. Now, you’re no scholar of Mondstadt’s geography, and you’re certainly no cartographer, but as many times as you’ve seen a map of your home nation over your lifetime, you’re sure you would have noticed at least one of those before.

With the map in hand, Diluc rises from his seat, tea untouched. It’s only then that you take notice of the empty board just to your left as he makes haste of pinning the parchment down to it. You follow in his footsteps without being prompted, your own cup of tea long forgotten.

“What do you see?” He asks.

“These marked points,” you mutter, reaching out to ghost the tip of your index finger over the one stationed just past the fringe of Wolvendom, “—what are they?”

“Wonderful question,” he praises. “With no added information, this map is basically useless. It pinpoints locations that, if you go to them on any regular day, hold nothing more than what you’d expect from the nature that surrounds them.”

He places the flat of his palm against the map now, gaze catching yours and holding it hostage as he continues.

“But these locations are far more than what meets the eye. They’re utilized by the Fatui at random, —likely to cut down on suspicion, and the more remote nature of these points lowers the likelihood of being spotted considerably. If not for my network of agents, I’m not sure I would have ever caught on what with how sneaky they tend to be.”

“Okay, I get why they’d choose places like that, but what exactly are they doing there?” You question.

“That’s where things get a little. . . Outlandish,” Diluc prefaces.

“These more secluded, often open areas are replicated in little pockets of a slower moving reality. They call these mimicked spaces abyssal zones, and inside, there’s an underworld of sorts where they throw Mora around like candy for some pretty. . . Barbaric entertainment.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, attempting to wrap your mind around it all. It’s a lot to take in at once, that’s for sure.

“How does that even work?” You question finally. “They just slice open reality and stuff themselves inside?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Diluc notes. “The exact details are still pretty fuzzy as far as I’m aware, but the harnessing of abyssal energy from the Void Realm allows for the creation of these temporary abyssal zones that look just like the area they’re formed in. After it’s been created, it can just as easily be hidden away, —like closing some kind of illusionary curtain over the entrance.”

“The flow of time inside an abyssal zone is completely different to the flow of time in Teyvat,” Henley pipes up. “I’ve only been inside one a single time, but I stayed for over a day. When I returned, it was like nothing had changed at all. Like Teyvat had frozen itself over.”

“By my calculations from the information my informants have provided me with, a full day in an abyssal zone is roughly equivalent to the passing of one hour in Teyvat,” Diluc adds.

“Okay, well that definitely sounds trippy and all, —but what happens inside the zones or whatever? And how does this connect to my father’s situation?” You inquire.

“I was just getting there,” Diluc pulls his palm away now, pointing to the unfamiliar markings on the map again.

“From what I know, there’s a common thread of using abyssal zones to hide a vast amount of criminal activity. Because they’re forged in collaboration with members of the Fatui, that should hardly come as a shock within itself, —but the real flesh of the issue comes down to the fights that take place there.”

“Fights? Like, physical ones?” You question for clarity’s sake.

“Yes,” Henley confirms, “but they’re likely a lot worse than what you’re imagining. I’m not sensitive to violence after being undercover with Fatui agents for so long, —but what I saw there really struck a nerve. It gets unbelievably gruesome at times.”

“There’s a system in place for it all,” Diluc adds. “Lots of wealthy individuals around Teyvat gather in these zones to place bets on fighters, and some even enter competitors of their own. The catch is that each fighter has to be backed and represented by a business or a company, —some kind of corporation that verifiably has enough Mora to pay up if their fighter loses a match.”

“There has to be an entire business involved to even enter a competitor?” You gape. “Just how much Mora are they betting on these fights?”

“I’ve heard that some have tipped over the million mark for a single match,” Diluc replies.

Your eyes flicker between him, Henley, and the map.

“Well. . . All of that is definitely really intense and all, —but I’m not seeing what it has to do with me or my father’s debt.”

Moreover, you weren’t sure why Diluc was choosing to share any of it with you of all people. It’s not as if he had enough of a grasp on your current character to really know that you’d stay silent about it all, even if you did assure him that you would prior. You’re sure someone out there would be itching for information like this, and it could likely be sold for a hard price if you played your cards right. . .

“If we enter these matches and create a winning streak, the hype around it all will rake in plenty of Mora, —probably more than either of us will even know what to do with. Beyond that, doing so will help steer the funds in a more positive direction, allowing us to take a vast source of income away from the Fatui and redirect it to people in need. People like your father who’ve found themselves in over their heads.”

That idea is good in theory, but in practice? You’re not sold under any stretch of the imagination. In fact, a part of you feels like it’s way outside the scope of your capabilities to even stomach an environment like that in the first place, nonetheless get deep enough in it to rake in large sums of currency.

“Diluc, have you even thought this through?” You ask. “I’m sure that kind of organized violence is illegal in one way or another no matter what nation you’re in, —but besides that, I’m not exactly in any position to be fighting anyone.”

“And I wouldn’t ask that of you,” he assures quickly. “When it comes to competing, I mentioned that every fighter is required to have a backing organization to support them financially. However, a competitor can’t even set foot in the abyssal zones to fight without an ‘executive director,’ —a formal representative of the company who can call for the end of any match at any point in time if they fear for the safety of their fighter or have another reason for withdrawing.”

Diluc continues: “Executive directors are also in charge of placing bids on fighters, even those who don’t represent them or their organization. They receive all the monetary benefits of competing and placing bets, and they choose how they allocate those funds.”

“But don’t they also have to have enough Mora to sponsor their own fighter with their backing corporation in the first place?” You question. “My family’s bakery doesn’t bring in anywhere enough to manage that.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you either,” he replies. “Putting your family’s business on the line like that, especially with your father’s situation as it is, isn’t something I’d even dream of pushing you to agree to. Instead, I’m asking that you become the executive director and official representative for Dawn Winery.”

You stare at him for a moment, blinking slowly in surprise.

“Sir,” Henley interjects, “—I don’t mean to overstep here, but are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Diluc’s expression drops into a scowl for a moment, but the answer he gives is nothing harsher than before.

“We won’t know for certain unless we try,” he concedes.

Henley’s expression seems to imply that he wants to say more, but he resigns himself to silence in the wake of Diluc’s curt response.

“I admit, there’s a lot that I don’t know, and there’s likely even more that could go wrong. I don’t have all the details about any of this, and for most of it, we’ll just have to play it by ear. I shared all of this information with you because. . . I thought you’d understand where I was coming from, I guess. But if you don’t, or if you do and still want nothing to do with any of it, —I get it, and I won’t try to convince you of anything that you’re not already sold on.”

You’re not sold. Not in the slightest. Still though. . . Perhaps the more naive side of you that grew up around Diluc and remembers all the times he’d go along with your games as children, even when they weren’t perfectly planned nor executed, feels that it’s your time to repay the favor. It’s a poor comparison, certainly, but something about him is comfortable in spite of how different he is to the young boy he used to be.

Now’s definitely not the time to be agreeing to things based on nostalgia, —but when he looks at you like that, you’re not sure how to say no.

“Hypothetically,” you begin, “say I agree to all of this and I represent Dawn Winery as an executive director. How can I do all of that and still manage to care for my family’s shop? My father is laid up in bed, and my mother is stuck taking care of him as best she can because the treatment he needs is so far out of our price range that it’ll take us weeks of business to save up enough for a single dose of proper medicine. Working at the bakery is the only sure-fire source of income we have right now, and I can’t forgo that for a little flicker of hope that I might score big with what’s basically just glorified gambling with some live action combat to go along with it.”

“Remember, time flows much faster in abyssal zones,” Diluc reminds you. “As far as I know, these events don’t begin until after sundown on specific dates. Most of the attendees are also running their own businesses: things like shops, guilds, service providers, and even those in positions of power. That gives you days’ worth of time to spare, —and I can make arrangements for you to have extra staff with no cost to you or your family.”

“And what about the time that I actually spend in the abyssal zones? A place that reveres violence to such an extent doesn’t seem like the kind of environment that would do its best to temper it out. Isn’t it dangerous just to go there in the first place?” You inquire.

“Typically not for the attendees,” Henley answers. “The fighters are definitely another story altogether, —but violence amongst members of the audience is strictly forbidden, and though I’m sure it still happens, I doubt most of them would even risk it. Violence between competitors outside matches is also prohibited, but again, I’m sure not everyone abides by that rule either.”

Honestly, you’re just surprised a scene like that would have actual rules for anything. It sounded more like a free-for-all of blood and knuckles than anything else.

“I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you,” Diluc chimes in. “As your representative fighter, I’ll be with you at all times unless I’m actively in combat, and I—”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt, “you? You’re going to be the representative fighter?”

Somehow, you’d been expecting him to shove another operative off on you, or maybe to pull some insanely talented warrior from out of nowhere. You’re sure Diluc isn’t completely incompetent in that sense, but. . .

“Yeah,” he nods, “is there something wrong with that?”

“No, I mean, not really, I just. . . I don’t exactly wanna stand around and see you get hurt is all. . .”

Diluc looks at you like he’s shocked you even care, and you briefly wonder just how crass you’d been with him before for that to come as a surprise. You’re not the biggest fan of senseless violence one way or the other, but when your childhood friend is involved, no matter how long it’s been since you were close to him, it automatically feels a bit more personal. A lot more personal, actually.

Eventually, his look of brief bewilderment turns into a soft smile. It’s the kindest expression you’ve seen from him all evening.

“I can take care of myself,” he says, hoping it will reassure you. “Everything will be fine, and I’ll leave it in your hands to call the shots. If you ever think it’s too much and you want to call the match off on my behalf, I’ll leave that decision completely up to you.”

Ah. . . That’s a lot of responsibility that you never planned on signing up for. But Diluc locks your eyes in an ardent stare, —the kind that it’s impossible to pull away from, even when your mind itches for you to let your gaze flitter about.

“What do you say, y/n?” He presses softly. “Are you in?”

You really should turn him away. This plan is nothing short of inconceivable, and it’s dangerous for the both of you (albeit one much more so than the other.) Plus, there’s no guarantee that saying yes will even go the way you’re both desperately hoping it will from the bottom of your hearts.

Above the nagging voice in the back of your mind that tells you to just say no and walk away from this, you let out a soft sigh.

“Yeah,” you nod finally, “—I’m in.”

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claiestve · 1 year ago

Text

𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ꨄ Elias

˜”* ❝𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙'𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴇʟɪᴀꜱ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

It was getting harder and harder to keep it together. Anytime Elias asked if everything was alright, you always told him you were okay. You always lied. The truth? The truth was that you didn’t even know if you’d ever stop being a target. You found yourself watching your back constantly, just what you were scared of.

You were now shaking. The evil thoughts– they just took over. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Everything you had bottled up was starting to come out and you hated it. Elias couldn’t see you like this. He left for about 5 minutes getting popcorn for the movie you guys wanted to watch. You tried calming yourself down but nothing worked. It just made things worse. It all came out. You were a shaking, sobbing mess.

Elias came back with the popcorn, excited to watch the movie.

“Hey, I got the popcorn! Now we can-”

He saw you, the state you were in. You thought it would be embarrassing but it just broke his heart.

“Hey, hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You tried calming down so you could answer, “Elias…”

That’s all you could say before you were taken over by tears again.

Elias scooted closer to you and took you into his arms.

“Shh… It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here and I’m never leaving alright?”

He held one of your hands and kissed the other. You knew he had felt this way before and felt bad that he had to see you like this.

“Did something happen that made you so upset?”

“I’m scared…”

His heart broke a little knowing that you felt this scared while under his protection. He never really saw you like this unless you had a nightmare.

“Maybe it all finally hit me.”

“What hit you?”

“Knowing that I might not be able to see my friends or family again. Knowing that I might be a target until I die.”

“Hey, no. You won’t die because of this shit and I’ll make sure of it.”

You looked at him before looking at the ground. You knew it wasn’t that simple.

You look back up at him, “I thought I’d be okay knowing that you’re there for me.”

“Me and Warden.”

His little comment got a slight laugh out of you before going back to your serious tone.

“But, I can’t help but feel like something would happen to me or you or–”

“Seriously, you need to let these thoughts go. I know it’s easier said than done and it’s so easy to believe that you’ll be let down by us but trust me, okay? I took you in and I’ll make sure that you can still breathe by the end of it.”

He used your arm to pull you into him and rubbed your shoulder.

“As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe,” He planted a few kisses on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You finally felt yourself calming down. All the tense tightness finally faded away and now you were just in Elias’ arms. Oh, how you loved him.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

this one is so short ughghhgghfjdkflsn but i wanted to post elias cuz he's my side thang

#zsakuva #zsakuvaxreader #elias #asmr

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firecooking · 1 year ago

Note

Here me out, in the tugs fandom there are 3 depictions of captain zero

1. Shitty mustache ( looks like it's pencil drawn)

2. Mustache that curls into a zero ( it curling to represent how he's the antagonist and also it resembles a 0 )

3. No mustache ( because he's either terrible at facial hair or artist just didn't draw him with one)

In your au is there an inside joke that zero can't grow proper facial hair?

I have been a conosuier of human Captain Zero's for years, and that theory does hold water!

I think the only Zero I can think of until a few that cropped up around this year with a beard that was drawn more than once is Dan-the-countdowner's over on deviant art. God speed Dan you where like the only guy drawing human Captains for years.

Also, your asks are always on deck in my ask box when I have a few minutes of free time, please don't think I'm ignoring them, sometimes it takes me a while to formulate my answers. Also I don't often do drawing requests, but I make an exception for my TUGS au's!

Anyways, on to my au! There will be a detailed explanation under the read more but tldr:

When Zero was a younger man he always kept himself clean shaven, after his time in he army he attempts to grow a mustache, which was universally hated and every one regarded as a bad move. Post War 1918-pre Zip 1920 is lovingly known as the rat years in the photo albums that reside around Zero Marine Bigg City.

Before the Great War Captain Zero clean shaved every morning, brushed out, cared for, and styled his hair, and generally looked put together and intentional despite living with rather wild, wavy, longer hair. I picture him around a 2b/2c if he makes an attempt to care for it but when he's not doing anything particular its just a frizzy/fluffy 2a, he has pretty fine hair so it's never consistent unless Zero makes the effort. His hair keeping short also makes it less wavy than it might be if he let it grow out.

He'll never admit it but he never really liked looking anyone in the eyes as a young man, and he still doesn't like it. His long bangs covering his face made him feel more calm and helped hide the fact he was avoiding eye contact.

When he signed up for the draft, Star had made a few passing comments about his hair, but Zero never thought anything of it. He's always remembered Star had had longer hair, and the Army wasn't that different to the navy, right?

After he was drafted and was in training, one of the first things that happened was his hair was trimmed back to fit in his helmet better and his daily grooming routine was reprimanded as a waste of time for a medic. He was told to change it or lives would be lost. So change it he did. This change consisted of not doing his hair routine save for 'basic maintenance' [ie, none] as needed, and only shaving one or twice a week, his facial hair never did grow very fast and was rather sparse anyways.

When he got back from the war, he vowed to grow his hair back out, but he was a different man returning home.

With his new found free time in the mornings meant he could always find time for tea and some breakfast. Making for a slightly less 'tired bitch of a captain' according to his three tugboats [data gathered from eaves dropping on their nightly poker games]. With his shaving routine fully altered and him no longer being picky about being clean shaven, he decided to try out facial hair, his father always maintained a beard, so why couldn't he? Genetics were on his side! He often forgets he's adopted.

It never did grow in fast, or very full. Even with Zorran's best efforts to help, Zero never really had more than a slightly bushy mess. And his hair never really got back to it's same length/health after the war, he always blamed it on the fact it was cut back, and not the fact he was a depressed mess after Europe who had stopped grooming almost entirely for years.

When Zip was due to be christened, Zero finally went down to a barbers shop to get himself cleaned up for the photographs at the urging of his tugboats and mother.

The barber took one look at him and told him the mustache needed to go and that his hair was initially damaged from lack of care during the war and then exacerbated by lack of care after. Zero on a whim let the man do what he felt was right, it was a new decade after all.

Zero's up cut was initially very low maintenance for him and he quite preferred it that way. Zero didn't keep up steam with his hair care the same way he did before the war, but he could manage to brush it in the morning to keep it from getting as bad as it had been.

Once Zasha comes into his life and he realized she has much curlier hair than he ever did [a mix of 3 b/c], he starts to pick hair maintenance back up as he learns how to take care of her hair. He's gotta be a role model and a good father after all. He still never gets back to how he was before the war, but at least his hair is healthy instead of oily, frizzy, and out of place.

More importantly he's taking regular showers and grooming again. His tugs count both of those things as a win.

He never figures out why he was less particular about the way he looks after the war. He was living a life of crime before the war. In the army he never injured a soul or took a life, unlike his days collecting debts as an 'accountant.'

He doesn't see how the war to end all wars could have changed him.

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regryrth · 1 year ago

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#drdtdevappreciation

Im so proud of how you all as a fandom handled this so well 💙 I know things are still pretty shaky in places and no one can rlly say this problem is “solved” or “forgiven” unless DRDT Dev specifically says so (which I dont mean to say they should or have to comment on anything, I know they mentioned theyre nervous and now uncomfortable interacting which I understand and accept responsibility for) But it really makes me happy to see how for the most part We’re turning something bad into appreciation. So for the fandom here. I appreciate all of you.

Even the ones who mightve gone too far. Just like me u had good or at least non malicious intent. Which turned out bad but there are still ppl who respectfully understand where youre coming from. Maybe its not wanted- But I appreciate and care for you too. I dont know how youre handling this all, But if its anything like how I did, I hope you understand nothing is ur fault just like how people have said it’s not entirely mine and not DRDT Devs. Even if it wasnt the best thing u couldve said in the moment. I understand u didnt want to harass anyone. It was a mistake made cause it’s human to act emotionaly have opinions and want to be understood with that. That can make ppl say and post things online that get deserved back-lash like I did. And the things u say can seriously hurt people like I did. I cant say how anyone else feels with everything thats happened But if Im right about everything so far. Its okay. To me at least which I guess isnt much. Even If u dont feel real remorse- You feel u were justified- But just dont want to be lectured in paregraphs over and over. Thats ok to me too. No one has to be completely justified in how they feel and it would be hyppocritical of me to say u do. And you shouldnt have to be looked at as any worse then the rest of us for stating your mind. Ur a great DRDT fan and person too and no one should claim any different for anyone. So while no one can throw around the word “forgive” for an incident that isnt ours to forgive- I “understand” u.

On a lighter note- The people who defended DRDT Dev without harassing anyone. U all acted so maturely in response to everything I honestly envy u a little. Does maturity and not making mistakes like these come one by one for you? When I make mistakes like this I feel like something with no real sense of right or wrong- Then I mess up and ppl come out to tell me where I went wrong and the “right” thing to do- And I piece together all the life lessons and “right” responses little by little until I feel safe with myself. Like a kintsugi piece. And like the cake in chapter 1! Did u have to do the same? I wonder if everyone experiences this. But thats not so relevant to appreciating you- So thank you for seeing every side. Even mine. Thank you for taking this whole situation and turning it into something good for everyone. We should talk about stuff like this more- While I still wish I hadnt posted that confession Im happy with whats been made of it- Even if the damage was still done. Because disrespecting and dehumanizing creators like DRDT Dev who put themselfs through so much to make wonderful content for us is never ok and to sweep it under the rug Like nothing ever happened is even worse. I know I requested the original post be deleted But Im ok with it being up on other blogs and posts because its important to hold stuff like this accountable and talk about it. And u guys did just that which is why Im so proud and thankful for u. This isnt a Thanksgiving dinner But u all deserve to be appreciated for doing good things too and supporting DRDT Dev.

And that brings me to who I appreciate the most- DRDT Dev. Everyone has said it so perfectly already I cant think of how to say it myself. But theyre so strong for going through all this. With their health. And going through and finding things like what I said. And other things none of us know about because they work to prioritize us over themself. And yet they still dont give up. They still keep going even with everything. They dont have to do this. But they do anyways and we should all appreciate them so much for that. Because sometimes we forget they and there team are human- I forgot that too. Doing things like my confession and taking their work for granted and other things is never ok. Im so happy we can do something to share our appreciation for DRDT, DRDT Dev and their team. Bad things and arguments and DRDT Dev being hurt by me had to happen first. I wish it didnt and that fandoms would give this much love and support to their creators without some incident happening first. But Im happy what happened let us appreciate the dev for there work now. And even if the DRDT Dev doesnt create side content anymore because of this- Its alright. They shouldnt have to push themselves past their boundaries or limits for us cause they already do so much. Even if we dont know much about them- We know enough to say theyre a wonderful person and we all love their content and them so much.

I know a lot of ppl apologized on my behalf and I suppose I wrote a longer apology to DRDT Dev and the fandom. But Ill say again as the anon themself- I am deeply sorry DRDT Dev for what I and others have said and done. I hope that you are well. And that youre able to see our appreciation through these posts.

I love you all 💙

#drdtdevappreciation #drdt #danganronpa despair time #despair time

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

Note

Sending this all in one ask even though it's technically four different things, hope that's alright-

1. Ik it's small and just in the tags but the Sol response for the soulmates post is so 💞

2. I really liked the writing in your Yurgir post, just thought it was really neat and I liked your wordings (I could not come up with a better way to word this, though- my bad). Let him protect Tav!! Even though he's also completely wrecking them <3

3. I agree really hard on the backgrounds giving dialog options. It really feels like it should be a thing- I think maybe all background affects dialog wise, is whether or not your character gets the Baldurian tag..? But that might just be a race thing (in which you'd either get Baldurian or Underdark. Or... Nothing for githyanki? Unless they have the Planar tag? Idk)

I may not be able to have the option in game, but in my mind's eye my noble Tav introduced themselves proudly with their full name, and Astarion immediately poked fun at them for how much of a mess their family is known to be. Them most likely recognizing Wyll as the Ravengard son and assuming he'd know of them as well but he straight up doesn't. Beautiful stuff

-Tressym anon

Thank you for taking the time to write this! Love hearing your thoughts <3

1 - You read it!! I didn't think anyone would notice, I'm so happy. I really want to add them to the several characters mini-lists I make but I always hesitate because since the post will leave my blog tags, I don't want it to feel like I'm forcing my OC into the fandom main media?

So I just leave it in the tags for my readers to hopefully find, since only you guys know about Sol and will see the OG post while most people will see reblogs of reblogs without my tags.

It's like, while Halsin embraces fate and has faith in it, Sol and Minthara do not. They realise how incredibly lucky they are to have met you. Sol condems fate for being so pitiful, how easily they'd have never met you and just spent their life hiding their true self and following their family.

While Minthara fears fate, she knows she would've killed you under any other circumstances. She dreads the idea of never waking up from her brainwashing, be it from Lolth or the Absolute.

2 - I'm glad to hear you liked it! I can't stress how I will never get tired of hearing this or how these comments never get redundant to me. Honestly, I'm having a really bad day rn but still pushed out a fic bc I felt like it's been a while, it makes me feel appreciated when people tell me they liked anything about my works. So thank you again from the deepest of my heart.

3- omfg, the Astarion idea is gold. He would totally have gossip on most noble families since he spent so much time in the upper city. You'd be announce yourself and titles so proudly and he'd be like "didn't your cousin runaway with that barmaid and leave his wife and three kids behind?"

Or playful banter with Wyll since he came from nobility originally, the two of your characters could've seen each other as kids or something before the whole Mizora thing and he'd be like "wait...I remember you! You're that kid who stole my piece of cake during my birthday party"

Also imagine insulting Gortash during his coronation with a noble background, basically calling hime fake nobility and how he doesn't know the first thing about rulling or etiquette.

Maybe when you come back to the city, you already have an account made in the bank and don't need to start another? Maybe you get pickpocketed quite often because you "look rich" and if you sleep at any camp besides the elfsong tavern, you remain restless and don't heal to full.

Being an obnoxious noble sounds way too fun. A spoiled rich person who has to trudge around in the mud in the underdark and complain about their silk clothes getting absolutely ruined while the party snicker behind you.

Imagine teaching Lae'zel and Shadowheart how to slow dance <3 or taking Karlach to a very fancy restaurant reservation during her date in act 3!

#♡Noble tav #♡tressym anon

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imgonnascreamandnoonecanstopme · 1 year ago

Text

Why "fearing" ai, especially ai art, is extremely non intersectional and potentially ableist or even eugenecist of you.

Posting this here cus thank god no one reads this blog but i'm frustrated over how disgusting y'all are acting.

Firstly, none of y'all fucks gave a single damn when klaus used ai to colour 2d drawings and people wanted to redefine 2d as being ok if all we see is computer generated.

None of y'all fucks even gave a damn when pixar tried to redefine 2d as 3d art with a 2d filter. So don't try to claim you give a damn about art when you were fine throwing everyone who's ever done 2d animation under the bus repeatedly. (this doesn't apply if you, like me, were there arguing against these fucks. You're fine. But you know the fucks i'm talking about "future of 2d, new frontier bluhbluhbluh")

In fact most of y'all fucks encouraged it and wanted your hands on the tech to use for yourself. so feck off with your fake ass concern

The shit you claim ai is doing now. It's not. And i've seen some truly unhinged shit that's either 1. been disproven or 2. is just fully illogical.

Example A: The ai is stealing actual furry art scam that was REPEATEDLY proven to be false. But this sure went around on twitter and tumblr and then the people who literally faked it tried to pull some bs "it was a social experiment" "It was to show how it could end up" nonsense. Fuck you.

Example B, the only case i've seen a job "stolen", word used FUCKING loosely: In a comments section i saw a dude explained that for his souvenir photography shop, their boss is using an ai to colour correct the photos and the photographers aren't allowed to change the settings on the camera (implied: because the ai won't work unless it has specific camera settings).

So this dude thinks the photographers job got stolen because the photographer can't adjust the camera settings and because his job description changed from colour correcting to checking that the ai hasn't messed up. Homeboy wasn't fired/ctx

To explain to you, in case you genuinely have no knowledge of history or how things work in job markets /gen:

These things have been happening since the industrial era and yet i'm not seeing a single one of you arguing for us to go back to pre machinery sweat shops for young girls. Cus y'all do realise that pre machinery, in history, the norm was FUCKING SWEAT SHOPS in the global north, right?

Job loss is bad, yeah, and it was super fucking bad for the people who had typewriting jobs when the computer came. A lot of people either pivoted to the computer and if they couldn't, they lost their job. However, how many of you, genuinely, who currently own a business, even a small one, wants to go back to only using a typewriter? /genq No google docs, no google calendar, no printing receipts or packing labels. All written by hand (rip fellow dysgraphics) or by typewriter just so that you can hire some of the ex type writers who are now retired and lost their job in the past? I'm gonna venture not many of you are willing to make that decision in terms of being conservative of jobs. Especially if you own a modern small business.

Let's say you are one of the people who lost their job to computers becoming the norm. Did you once think the computer was sentient and actively trying to replace you? I'm not asking if you got angry at the computer replacing you, i'm asking if you thought the computer was alive and walked into the office and said "Hey, i want a job and can do it better than Doris" and your boss said "hired" and fired you. Or, did you think your boss bought a MACHINE a TOOL (non sentient) that ended up replacing your job?

And Lastly if you were replaced by a computer. Did that makes authors extinct?/genq Even authors who handwrite or use a typewriter? Cus i have a bunch of nanowrimo stats to prove you wrong if you think that went away just because your job went away.

You might be wondering, why am i talking about this, especially the last one. The answer is really simple you see because THATS HOW THE ABOVE DUDE SOUNDED IN HIS FEAR MONGERING COMMENT He heavily implied that the "AI" replaced "HIM" and that it will continue and ripple out and replace ALL photography always and forever.

Which btw last i checked for freelance photographers, i thought y'all did your own colour correction or is that just for small businesses?/genq And for tourist photographers where it's sometimes an entry level part time job, i thought the ones who were doing it not as a passion already didn't mess with camera settings that much cus y'all didn't give a shit about the job if they treat you like shit and pay you less than minimum wage. And didn't the photography business get this already where things shifted when we went from physical film to print? Was that a catastrophe? cus y'all seem fine and like y'all survived but idk maybe there was a mass genocide i didn't hear about due to us stopping the use of substances with carcinogens. (heavy sarcasm incoming) Maybe not using carcinogens is what's actually killing us/s

Lastly why tf do the arguments in response to ai have a net total of 5 minutes of knowledge of human history????? If you know shit about the history of technology and humans oppressing other humans, something in you should be getting weird vibes from the arguments people are making currently. And yet i keep seeing people arguing that if you don't support being anti ai (of all forms, even as accessibility tools) then you're actively taking money from a freelance artist that you have never met and would never purchase from, even if you would never pay for ai art. Which is not how the economy, facts, money, human rights or customers work??????

So many people will say art is a luxury product when people wanna price gouge artists but not say it when artists are harassing people for not buying their shit (istfg if you dare say that hasn't happened once in history then fuck you, it's not just people on tumblr who are artists and drawing isn't the only form of art. Problematic and bigoted people exist everywhere, even in the small business freelance world.)

Not to mention the issue with losing your job isn't the tool that replaced you ITS THE FUCKING SYSTEM THAT REQUIRES YOU TO HAVE A JOB TO BE ABLE TO EAT! YOU'RE SPENDING YOUR ENERGY PROTESTING THE TIP OF THE SWORD WHEN YOU SHOULD BE PROTESTING THE ARMED GUARD WHO ARE USING THE SWORDS OR THE RULING GOVERNMENT THAT SANCTIONED THOSE ARMED GUARDS TO EXIST! And if you don't wanna protest for a system change to ensure that no one ends up jobless and only care if you get a crappier title, then i dislike you.

Tldr of this section: I'm sorry but if you're gonna induce a world ending (aka genocide level) threat, then i'm gonna need more than just "i wasn't even fired, i just do something different at a normal non specialised job", otherwise i'm gonna assume at best you're ego is bruised and at worst actually that fucking priveleged that you think having a job description change, when people are losing their jobs for unrelated reasons to ai, is actively oppressing you. Or that you're trying to water down the concept of what a threat is in which case i actively dislike you as an individual. Extrapolating that a literal computer program will end the photography business because your job description changes due to a shitty decision from your human boss and due to the shitty decisions the government makes to make income security a privilege and not a right, makes no sense.

3. Here is shit ai actually has done:

It's found a fucking antibiotic, i repeat AN ANTIBIOTIC! A NEW ONE! AND ITS WORKING! OUR LAST ONE WAS DECADES AGO! DO YOU NOT REALISE HOW FUCKING IMPORTANT THIS IS FOR DISABLED PEOPLE YOU PRIVELEGED LITTLE SHIT?!??!?!?! (this doesn't apply to the people who are excited for this, if you're not excited (excluding mental illness reasons like depression) for this despite knowing how many people die due to antibiotic resistance then block me now, your energy is fucking rancid)

made colouring 2d animated work easier aka more accessible

helped make other art things accessible to disabled people

Outed people as problematic if not as literal alt-right people or even neo-nazis based on the shit they're spouting as "valid" arguments towards a potential sentient being capable of emotion.

4. Here is shit ai hasn't done based on my research which is inherently limited. Please provide actual proof and not the human faked posts that were going around on twitter:

copy actual drawing

do convincing art from just a text prompt (there's a v funny youtube series where someone tries to get chat gpt to draw a simple circle, it sadly can't, cus it's not sentiently aware of what it's doing)

be able to write anywhere near like a human would communicate for anything longer than

Be sentient about any of the above or show understanding that it knows what art even is.

Be able to make autonomous choices unrelated to what it's learned

Made you have bigoted ideals, that's you, not a fucking random computer, take responsibility for your actions as an actual sentient human

Lastly, let's assume, ai, becomes sentient. Why THE FUCK is the main argument in "managing" it, GENOCIDE?!?!?!?!?

Anyone who is on team "just shut it down/turn it off" instead of "hey let's raise it with love and kindness. And if we don't and it becomes hostile, then it'll be very hard for an ai who is only trained in communicating with humans, to become a world class hacker, despite having no training on that front. And even making a rudimentary shitty ai costs much more energy and time than we should use. And even replicating it takes so much time and physical electrical volt/watt energy so the concept that the ai can replicate itself in a split second and evilly take over the world is illogical at best."

No, no. Instead let's decide "yes i wanna keep my right to kill living life forms because i'm scawed UwU"

Fuck all you fucking fucks who aren't even veiling your genocidal agenda. Fuck you.

Guess what you fucking motherfucker. WE ALREADY HAVE TOP HACKERS WHO ARE SENTIENT AND GUESS WHAT HAS HAPPENED YOU FUCKING FUCK. WE DONT NEED TO FUCKING KILL THEM TO KEEP THEM IN CHECK HOLY SHIT. What is it. With y'all fucks in the global north. And just wanting to murdermurderstabstab anything that is different or as "revenge"?!?!?!!??!?!? Y'all need 20ccs of barbie movies during your childhood and it shows. Fucking hell.

You fucks will use "i'm scared" and other forms of "fear" as a defense but use it to bear your fangs and rip into the first best example you see without making sure it's even a threat or that you are even being threatened because to you privileged fucks, being slightly uncomfortable is what you interpret as oppression. You're not fucking scared. You're hateful and bigoted. Check yourself. Cus you're not helping anyone and you're putting people in danger by having that mentality. Cus thinking you can be objective enough to not turn on other actual sentient beings, when one of your main arguments against a sentient being, is killing them. That's just not how anything has *ever* worked.

Not to mention. IF THIS IS FUCKING PLAN A. TF IS PLAN B.

TF IS PLAN B

THE AI "GETS OUT" AND FINDS OUT THE ONLY PLAN IN EXISTENCE FOR IT WAS GENOCIDE.

ARE YOU EXPECTING THAT TO GO OVER WELL?!?!? FOR AN INFANT NEWBORN CHILD?!

HAVE NONE OF YALL FUCKS READ FUCKING FRANKENSTIEN?!?!?!? LIKE:

The keep reading thing didn't work so to protect people from potentially flashing images, instead imagine, if you can, that there is a gif here of someone screaming in anger and frustration and pain.

Feel free to let me know if i say smth bigoted but not if it's the fucking "you're just saying adapt or die" argument CUS ITS NOT FUCKING TRYING TO KILL YOU ITS NOT FUCKING SENTIENT. IF YOU DARE FUCKING ARGUE THAT AI IS TRYING TO ENACT FUCKING GENOCIDE WHEN ACTUAL FUCKING GENOCIDES ARE HAPPENING THEN I WILL NOT HOLD BACK MY WORDS!

MY PEOPLE DID NOT SURVIVE THAT FUCKING SHIT ONLY FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO TRY TO FUCKING WATER DOWN THAT TERM AND IT'S IMPLICATIONS!!!

#ai #ai art #ai controversy #ai discussion #genocide #eugenics #ableism #disability rights #global north #privelege #angry poc #no i won't be tone policed #this post isn't as accessible as it could be cus this shit is fucking important #people are literally normalising talking about fucking genocide of a new species #to think that won't somehow affect how people view disabled people or people of colour is ahistorical and wrong at best #and insidious at worst #so sick of this bullshit #especially of how liberally people in the global north will want to kill each other or imply they are being killed when they're not #if the government is trying to kill you then it's valid to use that word. if someone is trying to kill you then absolutely valid.#saying your small business failing will kill you when you can get a job and won't lose your house and can live with family members who love #and care for you IS NOT A VALID USE OF THE WORD #especially IF YOUR SMALL BUSINESS ISNT FAILING BECAUSE OF AI AND STILL YOU SAY AI IS KILLING YOU CANT INVENT A BOGEYMAN WHEN THERE IS NONE #ESPECIALLY IF THE AI YOURE ATTACKING ARE THE ONES WHO ARE HELPING DISABLED PEOPLE ENTER THE FIELD AND YOU SEE THE “COMPETITION” THAT #DISABLED PEOPLE BRING AS “BEING KILLED” FUCK YOU IF YOUVE DONE THIS #and as always if smth doesn't apply to you then don't respond as if i'm talking about you

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vexture · 2 years ago

Note

For the fic writer ask game: 💘💥💎💌

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write

Outside of almost all of my JtHM works, there is the singular fic I made for the AHS fandom that I posted, that I know now (as a more seasoned writer) has a lot of issues, and even though I posted it when I was 14 or something, I still wince at my past self a little, I was in a really bad place. I still love AHS, I'm just not tuned in enough to the lore and shit to actually rewrite it without making a mess of myself. Eventually though!

💥Find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it

I have quite a few under 5 kudos that span some years, but the one with only a single kudos (no accompanying bookmarks or comments) is for the Azure series I dropped after I realized oc/canon content really isn't liked in the JtHM fandom (unless it's Scriabin) so it only got two works, and one person liked both (thank you vampriejunkie).

I really liked the concept that Edgar has a guardian angel, that follows him through each death he has. It was supposed to be this whole thing where the angel, Azure, partners with him and he gets a happy ending and actually lives past 21-25. There are so many ideas I still have for the both of them, and I drew vv rad art of Azure a few times. But I won't be doing anything for JtHM unless specifically requested anymore, so I don't think Azure will be picked up again.

💎Why is writing important to you?

It's gotten me through years of emotional neglect and abuse, and it shows (most of which was posted to Wattpad, yes, I'm serious.) If you take a look at how I used to do things in fic (if you can find it) you can see almost exactly what I read in fandom, what I took from it, and how long I had that mentality for. I used to think a whole host of things were okay as long as it was happening to me (which resulted in many friends distancing and leaving, in turn unintentionally worsening the behaviour) because I was groomed by family and family friends into believing it was okay (I used to be heavily into Supernatural, take a wild guess on what I thought was okay without any consideration that it was my situation at the time that influenced my response to people telling me no, it wasn't.) and that shaped how I wrote.

It was my only outlet because being on US disability benefits ™ in one of the lowest ranking states when it comes to mental health is the worst. After years of therapists and social workers that were only with me for a few months at a time kept leaving, I turned to writing. I'm finally in a spot (while still not ideal) where I can actually engage with art and writing in a more balanced way, because learning how to not digitally self harm was extremely difficult to do by myself, but I did it, even if there are slip ups sometimes (which is normal, just like any negative coping mechanism/addiction recovery) and I still write very angsty things, but at least I know what I'm doing with the themes I want to present now, and I'll learn with the ones I don't.

💌Share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Friend Carmen has read over a current Monster fic involving Wolfgang, that I'm not done with, but I'm extremely excited to see where it goes! I also have one in the works with Steiner and Dieter, that I'm almost done with, and should be posted eventually. I miss writing for Monster, but the little meow meows of the Revachol Citizens Militia have me by the neck rn, so those will be a while yet. I have so many Monster wips actually, maybe I'll pick one up and dust it off in the meantime to throw seeds at my friends (affectionate).

#sunny's qna tag #ask game #cw emotional abuse

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wirewitchviolet · 4 days ago

Text

So I was already sitting down to ramble about something, and turns out this post and this big reply under it tie in pretty well, so, here we go.

There are enough bespoke issues trans people justifiably feel very passionate about, and enough different experiences different trans people have that it is damn easy to end up in a huge fight because one person tried to make a nice simple statement for a clueless cis audience, but viewed through another person's lens it reads like some kind of attack. And it certainly never helps that bigots are actively out there constantly trying to co-op messages and sew infighting that any statement no matter how clear and good WILL get weaponized.

Before I get into the above, the go-to example I was planning to use was "you don't have to transition to be trans." There's a ton of ways you can read that which are great and worth echoing. For instance, "hey, if you've worked out that people got your gender wrong, you are trans and can come hang out in the trans clubhouse and ask for advice and all that without proving it through medical intervention."

Or, "hey don't be a weird gatekeeping creep who only recognizes people's gender if they don't jump through a particular medical hoop like taking a particular medication or get a particular surgery, which might not be something they even want due to risks, side effects, or not seeing it as a problem to begin with, and/or might not be something they CAN do anything about, because the typical medical treatment would not work on them for any number of reasons/is prohibitively expensive/too socially dangerous to go forward with in their current situation/is only even done by like a couple dozen specialists in the world who are booked out years in advance and many of whom actively discriminate against all sorts of potential patients."

You can see how it's nice to have a short catchy phrase. BUT it's absolutely a reality that awful bigots these days are going with the wildly bad faith and not even remotely true reading of "it's OK to deny transition-related care to trans people, because they don't actually NEED it!"

And you know, regardless of where you're encountering this phrase, you should always bear in mind those points about being totally valid and welcome in the community without a signed doctor's note, and how it's completely valid to be, oh, a woman who's hung like a horse and proud of it and such women shouldn't be treated like they need to go see someone about that, give people the benefit of the doubt that they're using it in such a sense if there's any chance they are, and at the same time be on the lookout for bad faith creeps misusing it and taking whatever steps are necessary to prevent them from to or about any trans person again unless/until they somehow manage to stop being a hateful piece of garbage and somehow become a decent human being.

Phew. All THAT out of the, way, I take a fair deal of issue with seeing the comment above me saying "the 'not transgender' people in the poster are clearly intersex" because holy hell is that a bad faith reading. All the concerns regarding intersex kids following that jumping off point are super valid and worth mention, of course. Doctors are constantly looking at baby's junk, going "huh, that doesn't look right, lemme do a quick surgery I'm not even necessarily trained in to get this looking more like whichever configuration I personally prefer the aesthetics of here, that probably won't cause any long term memory problems or trauma and there's almost a 50/50 shot I'm guessing right about what this kid'll want things looking like down here in a couple decades!" And that is just incredibly messed up. As is the practice of just throwing, say, testosterone boosters at someone perceived to be a teenage boy who doesn't seem "manly enough" to someone, which is a general queer kid concern, sure.

But none of that is going on in this poster. What's going on is kids getting hit with puberty-related symptoms they do not want (specifically boobs beards and voice changes), clearly stating this, and asking for medical help to make them not happen. If we wanna play Occam's Razor with the kids plainly labelled as "not transgender," boys growing breasts is called gynecomastia and a quick Google search confirms that... it is completely useless as a search engine because it's giving me 20 conflicting reputable-looking sources ranging from 1% to 70% of teenage boys. Facial hair on cis women is also really freaking common, to a point where it being relatively rare if you're white specifically makes it feel more like a racism thing than anything.

The real thing to remember though is that the obvious reason this poster exists is to get people who are completely uneducated on any of this and have been steadily exposed to propaganda from transphobes for their entire lives to the point where they have a hard time imagining trans people as actual human beings to consider the concept of HRT from a clear perspective by taking us out of the equation for a moment and just making them try to empathise with kids dealing with some of the same stuff, and it has to make that point in less time than it takes someone to finish walking past this telephone pole or wherever else someone might place this. And... OK if I'm really honest it's probably still too wordy and reliant on people having SOME idea of what being trans even means, but it's pretty good within those restrictions! Don't overthink it! Really don't project stuff that absolutely is not actually on there onto it! Focus more on actual bigots and doing something about what they're doing than nitpicking people who are doing good effective activism work you'd phrase differently!

This is the first time i’ve seen a pro-trans poster in a long time and i hope whoever put it up is having a good day, it made me feel a little less alone.

Hamilton, New Zealand

#trans #transgender #trans infighting #side note terfs constantly try to astroturf a trans/intersex rift and I was surprised to see this was in such good faith because of that #brevity

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castlebyersafterdark · 15 days ago

Note

NOT going to comment on the latest discourse itself, i know you don't want it, so rather an ask about semantics and language. it's one of the many reasons i love your blog vinny - you sound like YOU and no one else, and no one else sounds like YOU.

posts like those latest ones are so full of the same old stock fandom phrases that often i can't tell what position people are taking on the issue, because 99% of people on this site write the same way. they say things like:

speaking my truth

and

i'm just like??????

and

[wildly reductive take on the argument] lmao'

such an stupid use of 'lmao', is anyone laughing? are YOU laughing, OP? and what's with all the question marks? one is plenty folks! We get it! Unless you're 10 or under, this is simply bad communication.

I'm just so tired of all the repetitive language and bad grammar and fandom slang. or just modern internet slang? man this makes me sound and feel so grumpy and old. shame on me for never having expected to come to fandom and feel like im back at middle school. I just adore your writing vinny, you never resort to anything other than being genuine and explaining yourself in a coherent way and by god, that is something to be treasured online these days. anywhere these days!

if anyone can explain why people feel the need to use these stock phrases, please tell me. i used to run my own longform analysis blog and people seemed to appreciate my writing, which was more like essays or journalism. so people cant just use these phrases to follow the crowd and get likes. is it passive aggression? or perhaps its rage bait? well, it worked on me. damn.

Circling back to this one because I needed to separate myself with some distance between that tired discourse and some interesting points here. Forgetting the silly, annoying takes and talking about online language use instead!

Appreciate the thought that I sound like me!! I try to stay pretty honest and that goes into the way I type and speak on here. I felt as the more eyes turned on me, I wanted to make sure I was coherent? It's silly, but sometimes grammatical disasters and typos devastate me and I know that's wild, especially as I often look back and found I used a word wrong (or made up a word? haha) or a post got reblogged a bunch and I see something blatantly typoed and I die a little - but that's the internet and you can't help it!

I know exactly what you mean when you say stock fandom phrases and I think a little bit is ok - there's always going to be some linguistic adoption from your surrounding environment (example, I'm a transplant to my current region and I've become a mixture of home town and here and it's a linguistic mess) but sometimes the collective online fandom and hyper online community sounds a little hive-mindy and it gets weird and sometimes less than genuine, especially if you're trying to do something longform or conversational. I'll pick up a trendy phrase here and there or find myself copying common "posting" sentence structure sometimes, but I'm honestly not a huge trendy slang guy. I'm not very trendy at all tbh.

Hmm, I get what you mean with it being annoying to see constant use of lmao in arguments and analysis and mean-spirited ask-and-response situations, where clearly it's meant to read as disdain or mocking. I mean, I add a haha to my posts quite often, but it's kind of a tic, a break. My brain wants to put it there, where maybe sometimes it's thoughtless, other times possibly drawn from vulnerability in making light or insecurity in what I'm saying? My hahas are free flowing. I can tell when an lmao is just... I know what you mean. When it's mean!! But I think other times people use it like I use haha. Thoughtless or to mask a revealing thought? But you can tell when it's just... bitchy?

It's also playing into something I notice about myself - this pop culture gap I sometimes find I have. I see so many relatable posts where the gist is "how am I having this insane amount of screentime, being a very 'online person' all these years, and missing and not understanding so many references?" which is SO ME. So often I need someone to explain a meme to me or I have no idea where some slang came from that everyone is now using. I miss so much and I'm not pressed about it, but people have always thought I was out of the loop. I'm like, what the hell is that word? What's that joke mean? Really, it's typically just twitter/tiktok culture and has nothing to do with anything but a specific type of what you're exposed to on those apps. Misses me so often and I'm floundering for meaning in the wake of the speed of online language changes.

Genuinely, I think that online communication has always been tied into collective linguistic copy-catting and shortcuts and those shortcuts may not even be ttyl or rofl or brb anymore - it's these little, memey in-jokes, these phrases that adapted from some piece of media or viral video skit and filter down into a stock phrase people use because it's an easy way to "fit-in" and be a part of a community? It's not always good, it's not always bad. Mostly harmless or meaningless - as are most trends - but sometimes a big problem. Different styles - the casual conversation and the long form posting. There's the way we ramble in tags or go off when venting. There's the definite rage-bait (which can be jarring when you're also simultaneously trying to be this voice of reason and intellect in the same conversation. Jarring, for sure) I type a lot differently when I'm texting/in an active GC. It's quick and messy unless I'm having a legitimate long conversation.

Language use is an interesting topic and there's a lot to consider, a lot of nuance. This always has happened, but now we've moved online so it's so much easier to recognize patterns and as the entire world is connected, slang and trends are not as regional as they used to be since we are all collectively online and chatting all around the world, simultaneously.

Not a linguistics expert, these are all just riffing observations...

#queued

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respectable-username · 3 years ago

Text

Based on the responses to my post yesterday wanting to know more, here's my guide to

🧑‍💻Code in Hermitcraft (and other SMP) Fanfic🧑‍💻

Note: This is just the interpretation of one Jr Software Engineer. If other developers have a different interpretation, I'd love to hear it in the comments or reblogs!

It's super common in Hermitcraft (and I'm assuming other SMP) fanfiction for the plot to revolve around errors in the game itself and how they affect players. The problem is, as a software engineer, this almost always immediately pulls me out of the story as the ways the game errors are described frequently don't make sense.

This is not a condemnation of writers who use game bugs as parts of their stories, as nobody expects all SMP fanfic writers to have a CS degree. Some even do it well and I adore those stories when I find them! But here are some high-level suggestions to have your glitchy plot points make a little more sense. Usually, it's just a slight change in wording that's required.

Code vs Data

"His code is glitched! He's evil now!"

"They carefully pulled at the strands of her player code, trying to find the bug that was causing her pain."

"Wow, your code is so ancient! You're from Alpha, right?"

These sorts of phrases are probably the most common ones I see that yank me right out if a story. Why? Because they're confusing data and code!

So, what is the difference?

Think of code in this scenario like the laws of physics. It's the rules that guide what can and can't happen in the world. It's what says "if you walk, you move forwards", "if you eat, you'll be less hungry", "if you use a shovel on a dirt block, it will end up in your inventory".

Data is the actual "stuff" in the world that the code changes via its rules. Data is the specific blocks in that building, that item hovering above the ground, the mobs staring at you from under the trees, the player character, the player's health, the player's inventory, the player's skin, and, in the fanfic context, the player's personality and memories.

In other words, if it's an action that can happen, it's probably code. If it's a specific thing, it and everything that makes that particular thing unique is data.

Of course, there can be bugs or glitches in the code which means that data does something it shouldn't, such as "if you put some TNT, some dead coral, and a minecart in this very specific configuration, you can duplicate the TNT." In this case, the act of duplication (ie the rules that let duplication occur) is a glitch in the code (the rules allow something they shouldn't), but the duplicated TNT itself isn't code; it's data. Data that shouldn't exist but does anyway because of that glitch in the code.

So, how could you rework the sample phrases above to make more sense?

"He got too close to a glitch, and his personality data got corrupted. He's evil now!"

"They carefully prodded at her player data, trying to find the broken property that was causing her pain."

"Wow, your data structures are so ancient! You're from Alpha, right? I can't believe you've survived so many updates without compatibility issues!"

Code vs Logs

"Xisuma looked through the code to find the source of the glitch."

This one's a little less clear cut, as there are circumstances where players could look at a version of the code. Some of the Minecraft code is Open Source (ie free to look at), and the rest can be decompiled from the Minecraft .jar (ie turned from machine-readable ones-and-zeroes back into words and stuff, although much less human-readable than what the original code would have been). The super-technical players such as the SciCrafters and I think Doc too will look at the code, which is how they make their super efficient farms and find and exploit glitches to, say, put 8 spawners in one chunk.

But generally, the code is not the first place you go when encountering a glitch. I mean, if it were that obvious from the code alone, it probably would have been caught before being shipped!

When something goes wrong, the first place to look is the logs. The logs of what the players have been doing, the logs of previous commands that have been run, the update changelogs for the game, the version history of the (admin-editable) config files, any warnings or error logs from the server itself. For example, if you have a malicious user such as, say, a Helsmit in your story, the logs would show when they entered the world and where, unless they also did something hacky to cover their tracks.

Personally, I also wouldn't say you'd have to stick to exactly what a server would realistically log if it makes your story more interesting. It's easy enough to hand wave that an admin has a mod in place that surfaces more information if it'd make the story better!

In a multi-server setting, this is also the point where the admin of your world could also reach out to the admins of other worlds and discuss if they've seen the issue before and how they solved it. The in-universe equivalent of looking it up on Stack Overflow or Reddit if you will!

Once the admin has looked at the logs and maybe chatted to others, if they still can't fix the issue via commands or config file changes, then it might make sense for them to try looking into the code if they can. Note that not all server admins are necessarily confident at programming as it's not a core part of their job.

But at the very least, at this point the admin should have a better idea of what part of the code could be bugged. This will make it easier to either a) make a patch for the bug or, more likely, b) understand what circumstances trigger the glitch and avoid those circumstances.

TL;DR: The code is not the first place admins will go when glitches cause issues; the logs are!

And as before, example sentence:

"Xisuma trawled through the logs, trying to find any indication of the source of the problem."

To Conclude

Code is the rules that govern what stuff can do and how stuff interacts. The stuff itself is data. When something goes wrong, that typically results in the data being in a state it shouldn't be in, wether that be because that thing's velocity is much higher than it should be after taking advantage of the ravager flight glitch, or because a player and a mob's data structures got combined on accident to leave them a player-mob hybrid.

Of course, this broken data is likely caused by a bug/glitch in the code. It could also be caused by somebody malicious who's purposefully trying to break things by messing with the memory in another way. It could also be because a cosmic ray hit a piece of RAM and flipped a single bit (this is an actual thing that happens believe it or not).

Either way, when something goes wrong, the admin's first point of exploration is the logs, not the code. The logs will give the admin a better idea of what the cause of the issue is, and talking with other admins could give them a solution without ever touching the codebase. But worst-case scenario, it is indeed possible for an admin to go spelunking through the codebase to find the cause of an issue and create a patch for it.

This just covers the most common code-related plot points that I personally see in Hermitcraft/other SMP fanfiction. If you have any further questions about writing code-related plot points, feel free to ask! And also, just to reiterate, this is all just my interpretation. Others may interpret differently, and if you do, I'd love to hear what your alternative interpretations are!

PS: I was also planning a section on hacking here, but this post is already getting long and that's complicated, and also I'm bad at hacking. But let me know if you have any questions related to that that you'd like to see in a follow-up post!

#and yes I did write this when I was supposed to be coding for work #hermitcraft #mcyt #shamelessly maintagging in case others find it useful #res writes #res rambles

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