#well it will be like a readable game

[justapixelthing]

Update on my Zelda ROTP Overworld Sprite Set.

Missing are some more cliff corners, maybe a cave entrance and river shores. Once that is done, I can start building maps.

Since everything else relies on having basic nature, it is important to make this first. I also changed the tree crowns. Might make them a bit darker but overall I like them more now. Look more leafy.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

official finish-this-sketch-how-you-want post idk what to call thisSAMPLE TEXT

hi! I miss drawing with people in a café and some folks mentioned they'd like to mess with my sketches themselves and that sounds cool so this is now a thing. if u play gartic phone this is basically the complement mode! but without the fucking ring noise that freaks you out right when you're getting into the flow of it

few things are 1/there's no hard deadline! take this at ur own pace if u do, but 2/I'll also be finishing this sketch and I estimate it to take around uhh 3 to 4 days? from the time this is posted. so if that's a structure u like then let's aim for something done in that timespan as well! and 3/if u finish ur piece and post it and want me to see it the best way to do that is to @ this blog! above all we go into this one determined to have fun and enjoy. I already bought u a matcha latte with oat milk sorry if u don't want that

here I got u today a sketch that's supposed to be Riz Gukgak (SY) (grey bg version and transparent version for ur ease of peruse)

remember to have fun & be urself & finish ur drink & see u in 4 or 5

[baejax-the-great]

I am so tired of game companies forgetting that console players exist.

Make your font sizes able to be read by someone sitting more than two feet away from the screen.

[arolesbianism]

Y'know now that I'm seeing a small handful of ppl actually giving a shit abt oni lore it's making it so much harder to not become a nerd emoji every five seconds anytime I see someone talk abt oni because I forget that every source of oni information is comically outdated

[gothicfied]

a fic where Dae-Ho (or anyone) comforts a reader to bed because she/he is haunted by seeing people getting shot, blood and etc. Pretty please?🥺 He also is on watch during lights out and comforts them again while noticing them having reoccurring nightmares and mumbling in their sleep. You could also turn this the other way around because my boy Dae-Ho needs some comfort too! 😖

love your fics and past work btw!! ^^

Sleepless Nights - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After past trauma from being a marine, Dae-ho isn't handling the circumstances of the games well. Thankfully, you're there when he needed you the most.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots, PTSD (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's fluff/comfort, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 812 Words

A/N: hii and thank you sm! I loved this idea actually🙏🙏

Your eyes hurt from staying up so long, counting down the seconds until it was Dae-ho's turn to be on watch. The night was grueling and long — all you could do was stare ahead and think about all the past decisions that led you here. I shouldn't have done this, I could've done that.. you were just breaking your mind like that. After you almost nodded to sleep *again*, you decided this was the best time to wake your friend up and get some well deserved rest.

Quietly, you shuffled to the mattresses Gi-hun had your group set up, searching for Dae-ho in the dark. When you spotted his jacket from behind, the number '388' still readable with little to no light, you went to tap him on the shoulder. That was before you noticed him jolting and breathing quite heavily in his sleep, his face contorted with something like fear. Oh, he was having a nightmare. What are you supposed to do now? Wake him up to free him from his dream? Or should you just leave him be? Would that be bad?

While you were slightly panicking, Dae-ho woke up himself from feeling someone looming over him. His eyes immediately darted to you and he quickly sat up, like he was ready to fight you. "Hey.. hey, it's okay! It's me." you whispered, backing up a bit to give him some space. Dae-ho blinked a couple of times, his mind still reeling with the thoughts of his nightmare. The one that was reoccurring ever since he got here. The man took a deep breath and dropped his head down for a moment, just staring at his lap. "Are.. you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

Dae-ho simply nodded and smiled, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. "Yeah, don't worry about me. This happens.. all the time." The shakiness of his voice suggested otherwise. "Is it my time to be on watch?" With a confused, and slightly concerned, look you slowly nodded shifting a bit. Dae-ho slowly stood up, as not to disturb Jun-hee who was sleeping right beside him, and took another deep breath. "Are you actually okay? You seem really shaken up. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Dae-ho smiled again, this time genuinely, silently appreciating your concern. "No.. no, I don't want to bother you. You need to sleep, come on." He pointed down at the mattress, signaling for you to just lay down and let him handle his own business. That's how he always did it anyway, he didn't like to feel like his problems were burdening others, especially in here. "No, don't be ridiculous. I'll sit down with you for a second." So, you just took Dae-ho's hand and led him to the designated spot a bit further away from your sleeping space. The blue 'O' and the red 'X' on the floor illuminated the whole area, the light of both reflecting on his face.

"I've had this nightmare since I got here." Dae-ho started the conversation again, his eyes glued to the big metal door, where the pink guards would always emerge from. "This whole thing.. people getting shot, people dying all because they're in debt," his voice was barely above a whisper, "it's so messed up. I'm a marine.. I should be- Oh, I don't know. It reminds me of all the things I had to facd while serving this country." You nodded along, letting out a 'mhm' to show him you were listening. You didn't really think about it that way at all — Of course this would affect him so much, he probably had PTSD.

"I can't say that I know what that feels like, but I definitely understand." you whispered back, slowly turning your head to look at him. You felt really bad, but you also didn't know how to better the situation. All you could do is wish that this nightmare would soon end with everyone finally coming to their senses and voting 'X'. Dae-ho scrunched his nose, now burying his face in his hands. You couldn't tell if he was crying or was still shaken up, but you put your arm around him nonetheless. Like he always did with you when you were scared or stressed.

Feeling your arm around him, Dae-ho took this as an invitation and immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you for being here with me." he mumbled into your shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Your expression softened, hugging him back after a few moments. His skin felt hot against yours and it kind of felt like he was suffocating you with his arms, but you couldn't be happier when Dae-ho expressed his gratitude.

"Of course. I'll stay up with you for a little bit longer, okay?"

[badscienceman]

I saw someone ask what "I hope this hurts" means beyond the obvious, and I started to respond only for it to turn into an essay... Because I don't feel like dumping something so long in some unsuspecting person's notifs, I'm just going to post it here instead.

I started writing this after playing the game, but ended up watching a playthrough because I couldn't remember exactly where "I hope this hurts" was repeated. I think I caught the only few times it was mentioned, but I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something, so feel free to correct me on that or anything else I might have gotten wrong.

Spoilers for the full game and CWs for everything you would expect from discussing Mouthwashing apply.

Edited 10/16/2024 for clarity and some minor issues with formatting. I added sections in hopes of making it more readable, as well as a few more screenshots that I hope will support my points better. *Indicates where I made potentially significant additions to my original analysis.

Part One: Jimmy

Jimmy is someone who has a delicate ego. This means that he's very concerned with how he's perceived by those around him. We see this in how he responds to Curly and the news of the company's closure, which he takes it as a personal attack in spite of it very clearly having nothing to do with him on a personal level.

For people like Jimmy, a threat to one's image (whether it's a matter of their perception of themselves or, maybe worse, the perception others have of them) brings intense emotional pain. Even though it's clear that Curly meant no personal offense, and likely saw more good in Jimmy than was actually there, Jimmy sees this as a great threat to his own image, and thus identity.

To be clear, it's not just that Jimmy thinks Curly is looking down on him. It's also that Jimmy needs his role in the company to maintain his image, and he needs to eventually become captain. This is his ultimate goal because the respect and control that someone like Curly has, in Jimmy's mind, is tied to the title he possesses. And Jimmy wants that. He wants respect, he wants to be listened to, he wants power over others. (This is also why Swansea's final speech is so important, in relation to the belief that if one just reaches this next goal, they might feel a little more human, a little more in control, a little more fulfilled, but as Swansea shows us, that's just not the case. And it's true for Jimmy, too. Jimmy isn't magically fulfilled by obtaining the title of captain.)

But in the beginning, Jimmy has yet to realize that just getting the role of captain won't magically make him a man who is respected, or even a man who is truly in control. He sees no opportunities for himself on earth. The only option is to stay in this company and become a little lord of his own ship... and suddenly that's ripped out from under him. He will never reach the goal he's been chasing for all of this time.

Anya telling him about her pregnancy is the final push he needs to go over the edge.

Part Two: Captain

Returning to the initial reveal that the company is shutting down for a second, I think it's important to keep in mind a few things:

1. The importance of the title of captain in Jimmy's mind.

2. How this extends to his perception of Curly, him being the current captain.

3. Jimmy's self-centeredness preventing him from understanding the feelings and perceptions of those around him.

When Curly says what he does, Jimmy immediately jumps to the conclusion that Curly sees himself as above everyone else (and most importantly, as above Jimmy), to the point of considering them "dirt." I don't think Jimmy is just projecting his greatest fear (being seen as lesser) onto Curly. I think he's projecting his own perceptions.

He's placed all of this importance on the title of captain, and thus Curly. The captain is above Jimmy. Jimmy is beneath him, is lesser. And we know how Jimmy treats those he sees as lesser (first Anya, and then the rest of the crew once he's captain, *manipulating Daisuke into putting his life at risk because Daisuke, who is just an intern after all, just isn't important to Jimmy being an example).

I think this is a fair reading because Jimmy does something similar with Swansea when he insists that Swansea is keeping the last cryostasis pod for himself. I understand some might say that this is just Jimmy's attempt to manipulate Daisuke and Jimmy doesn't actually believe it, which is a fair interpretation, but I sincerely think he believes what he's saying in this instance. And I think that because Jimmy sees selfishness as common sense. It's what he would do were he in Swansea's position, and what makes him giving the pod to Curly significant.

Part Three: Anya

So, Jimmy is already hurt and panicking. He sees his chance at power and thus fulfillment slipping away. And then Anya tells him that she's pregnant.

Anya, who he has shown time and time again that he thinks little of.

Anya, who he clearly sees as beneath him.

Any mention of the pregnancy, no matter how gently it was worded, would immediately feel like a threat to him on multiple levels. And not only that, but a threat from someone lesser than him. His image, his status, his control, his power—it's already slipping from his fingertips. *It's happening right then, in that moment. It's not just a potential future where he's held accountable in a real way (maybe if Anya involved authorities, or if Jimmy was legally responsible for supporting a child once they returned to earth). It's happening now, because his image is crumbling.

For this reason, I believe I hope this hurts to be directed at anyone and everyone that he sees as "threatening" him.

Anya and Curly have made him hurt. He wants to make them hurt.

He doesn't care about Daisuke and Swansea. If anything, he's so caught up in himself and this contorted vision of reality, I wouldn't be shocked if he convinced himself in the moment that they, too, were looking down on him for some reason. (See again, "I know what everyone is thinking. The way they look at me." Obviously this is said in the midst of his spiral, after the crash, but I wouldn't doubt the paranoia was there before that moment.)

He wants to make them hurt as they've hurt him. He may also want to make himself hurt in order to vent out his emotional pain. If not, death may simply be the easiest way to escape pain and the threat the future holds in his mind.

*Part Four: Without the Guilt

In addition to all of this, I think crashing the ship (making them hurt) is his vision of what Curly has done or is doing to him. This is how he "leave(s) the dirt behind."

To understand this, I'm going to include the birthday conversation and the conversation between Jimmy and Curly about crashing the ship.

Jimmy: ... So I guess you got what you wanted. Without the guilt. Curly: Jim... If I had known... Jimmy: I can go back to my, how'd you put it? "Struggle of a life?" Jimmy: Anya never got into medical school because she's... well, let's be real. Jimmy: And how many employment years Swansea got left in him? Jimmy: Daisuke will be fine, mommy and daddy have him covered. So there's that at least. Jimmy: But you. Headed for bigger and better, right? Curly: I'm just... I'm just working on my life being a place I don't have to fucking escape! That's what I was trying to tell you, nothing mor- Jimmy: We're the ones you're trying to escape! Leave the dirt behind now that your boots are clean! Curly: That's not what I meant. Jimmy: It is what you meant. Jimmy: You just couldn't frame it to yourself in a way that kept you as the hero. Jimmy: Abandon the crew but remain the model captain.

To me, this is one of the most important and revealing sections of the game. Jimmy is not only projecting onto Curly, he's telling us exactly what he's going to go on to do (or attempt to do) when he becomes captain.

In addition to this, we see his manipulation on full display as he twists Curly's words and won't allow him even a moment to truly speak beyond a few lines he manages to get in between Jimmy's ranting.

That's not to mention we see the beginning of yet another pattern in Jimmy's behavior: getting a person to admit their weakness, then using it against them and/or using it to hurt them (he does this with Daisuke, for example, when he hears Daisuke's fears/desire for approval and proceeds to use it to get Daisuke in the vent). Here, Curly speaks about feeling trapped. Jimmy will soon trap him in a crashed ship just as much as he traps him in his own body, which Jimmy will proceed to drug. But I'll return to that.

Curly: Jim. I can fix this. Jimmy: What do you think will happen when we get back? Hm? Curly: We can figure all of this out. You and me. Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy: All I ever hear is how great of a leader you are. God, it's so annoying. Jimmy: But, now... What do you think will happen now when we get back? Curly: We'll fix this together. Jimmy: Everything you and I worked for in our lives. Accomplishments, changes. Jimmy: None of it will matter. Curly: You've gotten through difficult situations before. This time won't be any different. Work through it, one day at a time. Jimmy: It's not just me, is it? Jimmy: You were supposed to be the one who had everything under control. You said so yourself. Jimmy: The ship, this crew, everything that happened here... Jimmy: This was your responsibility, Captain. Jimmy: That is what you'll be hearing the rest of your life. Take responsibility. Jimmy: Or this can all be remembered as a tragedy. Jimmy: Despite what must have been the best efforts of its acclaimed captain. Jimmy: The Tulpar crew was never found. Jimmy: No one survived to tell the tale. Take responsibility. Jimmy: You're standing at the top. Jimmy: Feet in cement. Jimmy: I get it now. Right? Curly: ... Curly: ... Right.

This is an important moment, because aside from the scene in which Jimmy is approaching Curly while he's on fire, it's the only other time that I can recall the game separating from their perspectives to allow us to see them both, standing together.

We see a flash of Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy begins to pull away. Another flash. He continues to draw back. Another. He turns towards the cockpit.

Jimmy sees through Curly. He sees Curly's worst where Curly sees only Jimmy's best, and he's more that willing to use that against Curly.

He sees a man who is not going to do what's hard. He sees a man who is going to try to "fix it" only in the most superficial sense. A man who confuses the appearance of cohesion and peace with the reality of it. Someone who sees the rocking of the boat as a manifestation of taking action against a wrong rather than the wrong itself.

In the end, it seems they're both ruled by appearances. And Jimmy will soon rip appearances in every sense from Curly's fingertips. He will make him hurt. He will get his revenge. He'll turn Curly into the villain, taking away his title, his respect, and his very face.

For daring to look down on him, Jimmy will turn Curly into dust.

But I think these words—I hope it hurts—come back to haunt him.

Part Five: The Eye as a Mirror

Like I said, I went back to try to find each time the phrase is used. There's the beginning, of course, but then there's the pregnancy sequence, for lack of a better name.

When the Polle monstrosity emerges from the giant uterus (?), we see these words:

In this sequence, we see a lot of different images and concepts connected: Anya's pregnancy and thus her sexual assault by Jimmy are tied to Polle and the company. The emergence of the Polle monster from the giant uterus (and the idea of the removal of the pregnancy) is tied to the mouthwash, as it's an act of "cleansing." This is all then tied to the phrase I hope this hurts.

Unless I missed something, these are the only two moments when the phrase is used: When Jimmy crashes the ship, and when he's experiencing this hallucination.

All clean! Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth, huh? Through wreckage! Through silence! Wash it away! All day fire fresh!

"Clean" is important immediately. "Leave the dirt behind you now that your boots are clean," Jimmy says. Because in this accusation is Jimmy's actual intentions himself. He wants to rise above others and clean himself from their filth. Now, he wants to clean himself of his sins.

I think "Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth" is mocking him. A direct challenge to the thought that he could ever truly be "cleaned," at least in the ways he's so desperately trying to go about it. *Not to mention how this connects to the mouthwash, as it might get that 99%, but there's always going to be 1% left.

"Through wreckage" obviously refers to the wrecking of the ship, but also of their lives. All by Jimmy. Though I wouldn't doubt in his mind it connects to the wreckage of consequences (ie. Anya's pregnancy resulting from Jimmy's actions).

"Through silence" I feel connects back to Jimmy's attempts to keep everything quiet, both literally and figuratively.

"Wash it away" also has a mocking edge, as if stressing the foolishness of Jimmy's attempts to treat these very serious events as if it's all just "dirt" he can wipe off.

Finally, we see "All day fire fresh!" This line stresses the connection to the mouthwash, of course. It also calls to mind the concept of cleansing by fire. Important considering Curly.

And after each, I hope it hurts. Jimmy's statement of pure, childish rage. His desperate desire to make others hurt as he hurts. To lash out, to get revenge. To have control until the very end.

This is also why Polle haunts him. Because he, as a man desperate for control, will always be under the thumb of the company even with that title of captain. That hurts him. And maybe the closest thing to ever recognizing the evil he's done to Anya is envisioning it as similar to the company's control, but even that feels like a mockery because he's so horrifically incapable of seeing her as a human being that she's been reduced to her womb. That's what he's really afraid of, in the end, and the fear feels like something else is in control. It makes the organ feel giant, larger than him, capable of hurting him.

When I was watching the playthrough, I thought that there was going to be four or five "I hope it hurts." I thought it would represent each person Jimmy hurts, or all of them, because he hurts himself too. When the sixth came, I thought so much for that theory. But then, I thought about it and there's the fetus. That makes six.

So, I hope this hurts means "I want to hurt you the way I've been hurt. The way you've hurt me." It's Jimmy saying that if his life has been wrecked, he'll wreck yours. It's Jimmy saying he'll shut you up. It's Jimmy saying he'll burn everything down if it means he can maintain control, or even just the illusion of it.

Part Six: Pain

But I think there's another side to this. Like some of the other lines I said feel are mocking him, I think I hope this hurts turns against Jimmy, especially here. And more than that, pain (and by extension, pain medication) plays a massive role in the game, after all. So I hope this hurts feels as if it haunts every moment where it's involved.

Jimmy says this the first time he gives Curly his pills. Pain is how we know we're still living.

The pills are clearly connected to death from the start. If "pain is how we know we're still living" then pain is connected to life and freedom from it is connected to death. That's saying nothing of Anya's use of the pills to kill herself. I think this connects back to the crash, as well. If life is pain, death is an escape from it.

I think it's also significant that the act of swallowing the pain pills is in and of itself painful.

The pills that are meant to take the pain away become a method of torturing Curly. It's a way to make him hurt, and to exert control over him. Even something that should take away his suffering is just an extension of it.

At one point, Jimmy says "Once these are out, we'll have nothing to keep him quiet." In this sense, the pain pills are meant to suppress, not to heal (Through silence!). They're supposed to shut Curly up and keep him from expressing his anguish in the only way he has left (the noises that disturb Jimmy's sleep).

Others have compared this, or Curly's state, to how Anya has been forced to bottle up her own suffering. Jimmy is keeping them both quiet, or at least attempting to. The ultimate form of keeping them quiet would be to, of course, kill them all.

The pills can also be seen as an attempt to hide or conceal the hurt that has been caused rather than to actually heal. In this way, they're like the mouthwash: something that's not really helping, just covering up an issue (and thus making it worse). And the mouthwash represents Jimmy's attempts to "fix" things. He doesn't actually want to make things right, because that would mean taking accountability. He wants to protect his own ego by "fixing" things in a mimicry of Curly "fixing" things in which he wants to create a sense of "rightness" without actually adressing what (or who) has been wronged. Jimmy can't stand to look at himself, because he would see that he really is constructed of his worst moments, or at least, that's what I suspect he would see.

Conclusion

Considering all of this, I hope this hurts can then become a mantra about living in spite of everything. I hope this hurts means "I hope I'm alive in the end. I hope we're all alive in the end." It could mean "I hope I'm allowed to hurt, because I am hurt, and the harm that's been done to me must be seen rather than suppressed and hidden." It could mean "You can't keep me quiet. You can't ignore or hide what you've done to me."

Maybe most of all, I think it means I hope you reap what you sow. When it's turned back on Jimmy, when it's almost mocking or haunting him, it becomes in part about his emotional weakness. About his inability to look at himself and his reality without experiencing the pain of humiliation. I don't think he ever experiences half of the pain he's inflicted on those around him. Still, he has to deal with the fact that his attempt to hurt others instead of facing himself has caused him more pain rather than taken it away as he'd hoped.

And I think that's why he suddenly decides to make Curly a "hero" instead of a "villain." There's a tipping point where he's pushed into a corner. The pain is too much. He hasn't confronted his own actions in any real way, but he's done enough that he can't stand to save himself anymore. It hurts too badly to live with what he's done. It sends him into another stage of fantasy/delusion. The only thing left to do is what he intended to from the start: kill himself to escape and damn Curly to a slow death. Because to go on living in spite of the pain would be the right thing to do, in a sense. To live in the hell of his own creation. To face what he's done. But instead, he'll entrust those heroics to Curly.

This feels barely coherent in the end, so I might come back in a few days and say wow what the fuck was I talking about? But hopefully there's something here that captures some truth. Again, please feel free to correct me if I'm misremembering anything or if I missed something.

[harryhighkey]

rest, baby.

hi - here is part four of my frontman x reader series!

spoiler: they finally kiss! sorry but not sorry for the slow burn for that moment. hopefully the wait was worth it!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

"Open your eyes now." Player 001's voice sounded out in front of you, his voice was so calm compared to the constant loud terror that had stayed in your head during Mingle.

You did as he said and you were met by his gaze in the little yellow room. Slowly, you removed your hands from your own ears. In-ho's hands were still over the top of yours so they fell from your face too. All of the terrible noises of the worst game yet were over now. The nursery rhyme, the screaming, the fighting, the gun shots, dead bodies being placed into boxes with thuds, it was all over.

But there was another sound that you'd only heard once, that had taken place right before the game ended. A neck breaking. Your eyes did a quick sweep of the room, the man who had snuck in here when you fell to the ground was gone. You looked back to Player 001.

In-ho was still looking at you, he knew what you were looking for. He'd deliberately waited until the guards had removed the dead body from the room before telling you to open your eyes. His eye contact was strong, you still found comfort in it, but something had shifted ever so slightly. You were having an internal battle over if what he had done made you trust him more or less.

He had just killed someone with his bare hands. For you.

"It's over?" You asked, needing him to confirm.

"Yes." He told you and you felt the invisible weight of panic that had been crushing you lift from your chest.

You took in a deep breath but winced as the action hurt your side. Quickly you flinched, your hands going to where the pain struck.

"Are you okay?" In-ho frowned in concern, his hands landing on your shoulders to steady you.

"Just hurts a little."

"Can I see?"

You nodded and your hands went to the hem of your shirt, lifting it to see your side all red from where you had been kicked. "Looks like it hurts a lot." In-ho said, he moved one of his hands so his fingertips just barely brushed the surface of where your skin was red and hot, his jaw clenched. He was furious at the person who hurt you like this.

"I'll be fine." You pushed his hand away and put your shirt back down.

"You don't have to do that with me."

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine when you're obviously hurt."

"Well, when I just have this and all those people died, then I'm fine, Young-il." You snapped at him.

He didn't respond, instead silence fell between you both. His expression gave nothing away, you hated knowing how readable your face was whilst his was the opposite.

What you didn't know was the constant internal battle he was facing between being the Frontman and Player 001. Being the man who ran these games but also being the man who wanted to save you from them.

You snapped at him about people dying here, which he was to blame for but he didn't care about those people. He only cared about you. He cared so much about your life and at the same time, he was the reason yours had been put in this dangerous situation, he had to be the reason you get out, too.

"Sorry." You dropped your eyes, shaking your head at yourself. This man had literally just carried you to the finishing line - a finishing line that secured your life - and you were snapping at him? He had just helped and carried you through the worst panic attack you'd ever experienced so you would survive. He killed for you. You tried not to think about that last fact too much.

He had looked out for you more than anyone ever had your whole life.

"Don't be." He shook his head, dropping his head down. "You've been through a lot. Too much." Because of me. He thought.

"So have you." You reached for his hand then, he intertwined his fingers with yours. He kept his face down. "Young-il," You called out to him. In-ho hated that you still didn't know his real name, he wanted to tell you it. He looked back up to you. "Thank you for looking after me. For saving me."

His spare hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your skin. You're saving me. He didn't say that out loud, instead he said, "I told you I would."

"I know, but when I had given up during the second last round. I thought that was it for me."

"But it wasn't, I was never going to let that happen."

"I know that, I just thought I was stronger than that. I should've been able to keep going. I should've been able to handle it." You were disappointed in yourself, dropping your gaze from his now.

"No," In-ho shook his head, his face almost looking pained at what you had said. Both of his hands held your own two. "You shouldn't have to, (Y/N). You are not the problem. What happens here, the people who thrive here, who enjoy it, they're the ones who are wrong." He moved his face closer to yours, barely brushing his nose against yours, you looked back up at the contact, the movement bringing your face closer to his again. You could feel his breath on your lips, your heart thundered. "Not you, pretty girl. You are too good for this place, it's beautiful that you don't belong here."

Your breath hitched as your eyes dropped to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. You tilted your head a little, rubbing your nose against his, your lips just grazing his, inviting him in.

He accepted.

Player 001 closed the distance, his lips meeting yours, finally. The kiss was tender and heavy, you'd both felt like you had been waiting so long for this despite it being just a few days. Your brain felt dizzy as all the terrible things you'd experienced slowly began to dissipate and all you could think about was how perfectly his lips meshed with yours. His hands let go of yours and found your thighs, you sighed into his mouth at the feeling of his strong grip on your legs.

"Come here." He mumbled against your lips. In-ho started to pull you forward and you followed his lead. Between kisses, you lifted yourself so you could settle into his lap and straddle him, your hands holding onto his shoulders, your front against his. You broke the kiss so you could catch your breath, but he wanted more, he was no where near close to being done to having his mouth on you.

Wet kisses were left to the corner of your mouth, your chin until he found your neck. You whined and tilted your head to give him more access, the feeling of it so delicious, you could feel a wetness already forming in between your legs. "That's my good girl." He said, briefly looking at your heavenly face before his lips came back to your neck where he began to lightly suck, his hands moving to your ass. You bit down hard on your bottom lip and whimpered, already feeling so turned on, you wanted to hear him call you that every day.

He started dotting kisses down your neck now, lingering a very hot, open-mouth one to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. "I can't wait to taste all of you." He gripped your ass and you rolled your hips into his. "You want that, baby?" He asked you, lifting his head once again to be right in front of yours. Your cheeks were already growing pink.

"Yes. Please, yes." You nodded, crashing your mouth against his once more. He met your kiss with ease, he was getting drunk on you already and there was still so much more of you waiting to be explored by him.

You were so blissfully surrounded by him, the perfect distraction from everything else you had gone through this day. You'd felt a constant flutter in your chest anytime he had touched you since that first night when he had rubbed your head until you fell asleep. Now that flutter was more alight than ever, bursting with each skilled movement of his lips.

You rolled your hips again, seeking a sensation against your throbbing centre. "Baby," In-ho broke the kiss with a puff of air at the feeling of your pussy grazing over where he had grown hard in his pants. You met his gaze. "Not here." He told you, placing one last peck to your lips and running his hands further up your back. As much as he wanted you, he wanted to make sure it was where you two were truly alone. Your pleasure was for his eyes only.

You whined and dropped your head onto his shoulder, letting out a loud sigh.

He laughed, turning his head so his lips grazed against your ear as he spoke. "That turned on?"

"Shut up." You laughed too.

"I'll take that as a yes."

-----

"To give you some time to think, the vote will be conducted tomorrow."

50 vs 50.

The vote had come out to a tie.

"No." Your voice was barely audible, you felt hopeless.

Everyone turned to walk back, only you and Player 456 were left standing in place. Gi-hun was staring at the numbers on the screen in disbelief. You were watching the guards as they started getting ready to leave.

You knew you wouldn't make it through another game and you didn't want Player 001 putting himself in danger again to keep you safe. You wouldn't forgive yourself if anything were to happen to him. You were desperate to get out.

Briefly, you turned to look back, looking for the man who had become your solace. He was already walking back to the bunks. You looked at him for a few more moments before turning back to the guards, they had all started to turn away to leave. If you had taken a few extra seconds to think about, maybe you wouldn't have acted so impulsively.

But you didn't.

"(Y/N), no!" Gi-hun attempted to stop you as you broke out in a sprint towards one of the guards, he reached out to you but you just slipped out of his grip.

Others turned at the commotion, the people who voted 'O' hoping to see you run right to your death, the people who voted 'X' were worried.

When In-ho turned at the sound of Gi-hun saying your name and he saw what you were doing, he swore his heart stopped beating. "(Y/N)! Stop!" He screamed at you, voice full of distress. Just like Player 456, he ran after you, but he was too many steps behind now. He could control what happened to you when the games were taking place, but if you were running at the guards to attack them in front of all the other players, he couldn't control the outcome of this and it made him panic.

Just as you were about to grab a guards gun, they turned around at the sound of their bosses voice, seeing you right behind them and immediately holding their gun up so the barrel pressed right against your forehead.

You froze and sucked in a breath, the other guards turned and pointed their guns at you. You waited for the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came. You thought for sure this was going to be your end, this was not behaviour they tolerated.

What you didn't see was the Frontman glaring at them with a warning gaze. His face was hardened in fury at the idea of any of them shooting you and he ever so slightly shook his head to tell them no as subtly as he could without anyone else noticing.

"Move back." The guard commanded at you.

For a moment, you thought about trying to grab the barrel for a last attempt to steal the gun, you knew the speed of your hands would be no match for the trigger on this weapon, but your desire to leave was so strong you considered trying. That was until Player 001's voice sounded out. "(Y/N), listen to them. Come back." You imagined how you would feel if it was him with the gun aimed at his head, the thought of it even too much. So you started to step backwards. The guards kept the guns pointed at you. You could not believe they let you get away with this.

You kept walking backwards, and when your back hit against someone's front, you jumped.

"It's me." Player 001's voice was right in your ear. He grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him. Protecting you again.

-----

"What were you thinking?!" Once the guards had left, In-ho didn't let go of your hand, he pulled you to your bunk with him. He was furious at you for risking your life like that.

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking." You answered him honestly.

"That is clear. That was so stupid, (Y/N)."

"Don't call me stupid."

"Don't be stupid and I won't."

You huffed, crossing your arms as you sat on the side of your bed. "After we lost the vote, I had to try something. I'm not going to make it through another game, I know it. I'm dying tomorrow. That was my last chance to escape."

"I told you, I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know you did, and you got me through today. But we don't know what's coming tomorrow. You can't guarantee that."

Yes I can. He thought, but he couldn't tell you that, not yet. Instead, he let out a deep breath and crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. He tried to catch your eyes, but you avoided looking at him. "Hey," His hand grabbed your chin, halting your movements and forcing you to look at him. "I can keep you safe if you're next to me. But, with what you did just then to the guards. I have much less of a chance of keeping you safe." But still a chance, he was the Frontman after all. "Do you understand?" He was trying to let you know you would be okay, his role was high and important here.

Plus, after learning Gi-hun's plan for tonight, he had his own plan to finally get you out.

-----

Bullets were flying everywhere, it was chaos, it was loud, it was a war-zone. The third war-zone you'd experienced today. First, it was the game, Mingle. Second, when everyone had started attacking each other when the lights went out. You had hid next to Player 001 during that, your eyes squeezed shut, head tucked away in his neck with his arm around you and his hands covering your ears. Third, was now this. Player 456's plan to take over the games, find the Frontman and end all of this.

Through all of it, In-ho had made sure you were by his side. Currently you were between him and Player 388, who was about to go and get more bullets.

"Dae-ho, are you okay?" You leaned in closer to ask him, you could see on your friends face he wasn't handling this well. He had become more quiet, his face turned pale. You experienced your own panic attack earlier today and you were sure he about too as well.

"Yes." He answered you quietly. It wasn't believable.

Everyone else was too distracted by the fight, busy shooting the guards, but you felt concern for your friend. "I'll go back with yo-"

"No." In-ho interrupted you then, his voice demanding. You turned to look at him and his face was deadly serious. "You are staying with me." He was so close to getting you out, he wouldn't let you go back now. Especially not when bullets were shooting everywhere and you could get hit.

"But, he-"

"He will be fine."

You clenched your jaw tight then.

"(Y/N)," Dae-ho called your name and you turned to look at him, concern displayed all over your face for him. "It's okay, stay here with Young-il. It'll be easier for just one of us to go back than both of us."

You nodded and then leant forward to hug him. "Please be careful."

"I will, you too." He pulled back from the hug to look at you. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay."

In-ho watched you watch him retreat back. He saw the worry on your face, he knew you cared for him and it made him sick with jealousy. He couldn't wait to get you on your own.

"(Y/N), we have to move now."

Player 456 & 390 went one way while you and Player 001 went another.

He kept his body in a place where it would shield you from the direction the guards were shooting from. Although it seemed that the bullets coming in your direction had significantly lessened. Maybe more guards were on the side Gi-hun had taken.

You hoped they were going to be okay.

Each time you reached a new path that broke off into more than one direction, Player 001 chose which way to go so confidently. You were starting to get anxious at the idea of getting closer to where the people who ran these games were.

"Young-il," you reached out for his hand to stop him.

He halted and immediately turned to you. "Have you been shot?" His eyes scanned over your body, searching for blood.

"No, no," you shook your head. "What's going to happen when we find the people who run this?" You spoke with a panicked tone.

He held your eye contact for a few moments before answering you. "You already have." He admitted.

"What-" Before you had a chance to question or even fully process what he had said, he pulled you into him and kissed you. You allowed him to, more than allowed, you completely welcomed it. Your heart instantly speeding up at the feeling of his skilled mouth on yours.

You were so distracted you didn't see him reach into his pocket for the syringe, he almost felt bad at how easy this was. Almost. He didn't because he had convinced himself this was going to be best for you.

When the needle pricked into your skin, you broke apart from him with a gasp, but his strong arm kept you in place.

"You'll be okay." Was what he told you as your vision very quickly blurred, your body going limp in his hold around you. He scooped you up into this arms.

You attempted to speak, to say anything at all, but you were fast succumbing to what had been injected into you. All you managed to do was let out a little whimper.

"Shh, (Y/N)." In-ho said into your ear, and everything started to go black for you. "Enjoy your rest, baby."

[roksik-dnd]

For everyone who asked: a dialogue parser for BG3 alongside with the parsed dialogue for the newest patch. The parser is not mine, but its creator a) is amazing, b) wished to stay anonymous, and c) uploaded the parser to github - any future versions will be uploaded there first!

UPD: The parser was updated!! Now all the lines are parsed, AND there are new features like audio and dialogue tree visualisation. See below!

Patch 7 dialogue is uploaded!

If you don't want to touch the parser and just want the dialogues, make sure to download the whole "BG3 ... (1.6)" folder and keep the "styles" folder within: it is needed for the html files functionality (hide/show certain types of information as per the menu at the top, jumps when you click on [jump], color for better readability, etc). See the image below for what it should look like. The formatting was borrowed from TORcommunity with their blessing.

If you want to run the parser yourself instead of downloading my parsed files, it's easy:

run bg3dialogreader.exe, OPEN any .pak file inside of your game's '\steamapps\common\Baldurs Gate 3\Data' folder,

select your language

press ‘LOAD’, it'll create a database file with all the tags, flags, etc.

Once that is done, press ‘EXPORT all dialogs to html’, and give it a minute or two to finish.

Find the parser dialogue in ‘Dialogs’ folder. If you move the folder elsewhere, move the ‘styles’ folder as well! It contains the styles you need for the color coding and functionality to keep working!

New features:

Once you've created the database (after step three above), you can also preview the dialogue trees inside of the parser and extract only what you need:

You can also listen to the correspinding audio files by clicking the line in the right window. But to do that, as the parser tells you, you need to download and put the filed from vgmstream-win64.zip inside of the parser's main folder (restart the parser after).

You can CONVERT the bg3 dialogue to the format that the Divinity Original Sin 2's Editor understands. That way, you can view the dialogues as trees! Unlike the html files, the trees don't show ALL the relevant information, but it's much easier to orient yourself in.

To get that, you DO need to have bought and installed Larian's previous game, Divinity Original Sin 2. It comes with a tool called 'The Divinity Engine 2'. Here you can read about how to unstall and lauch it. Once you have it, you need to load/create a project. We're trying to get to the point where the tool allows you to open the Dialog Editor. Then you can Open any bg3 dialogue file you want. And in case you want it, here's an in-depth Dialog Editor tutorial. But if you simply want to know how to open the Editor, here's the gist:

Update: In order to see the names of the speakers (up to ten), you can put the _merged.lsf file inside of the "\Divinity Original Sin 2\DefEd\Data\Public\[your project's name here]\RootTemplates\_merged.lsf" file path.

Feel free to ask if you have any questions! Please let me know if you modify the parser, I'd be curious to know what you added, and will possibly add it to the google drive.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Take All My Inhibitions

Summary - Wine awakens a bold, sensually unrestrained side of her, and the evening unfolds into a game of playful seduction, where inhibitions melt and desire takes control. But with the wine's intoxicating effect comes the question—how far will they go when nothing is held back?

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2617

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Drinking wasn't something I indulged in often. I never liked the bitter taste of alcohol or the loss of control that came with it.

But today felt different. It was my name day, a special occasion, and I had been generously gifted a few bottles of rare Dornish wine.

I'd never tasted this particular wine before, but from the first sip, I was hooked. It was sweet, rich, with just the right amount of tartness—dangerously delicious.

As the day wore on, I found myself drinking far more than I intended, each chalice emptied more quickly than the last.

By now, the effects were unmistakable; my head felt light, my laughter unrestrained. I couldn't remember the last time I had been in such a carefree, almost giddy mood.

"My lady, which dress would you like to wear tonight?" My handmaiden Myra asked, holding up a few options for me to choose from.

I stared at the selection before me, my brow furrowing in disapproval.

Normally, these dresses would've suited me just fine—elegant, modest, befitting a lady of my station—but not tonight.

Tonight, they looked dull, uninspiring.

"This is all so boring," I groaned, tossing the dresses onto the bed in frustration.

Without hesitation, I dove into my wardrobe, pulling out something I'd hidden away—a gown I would never dream of wearing on any other day.

It was scandalous, with a daring cut and sheer panels that left little to the imagination.

My sober self would have blushed at the thought of wearing it, but the wine made me bold, uninhibited.

"This one," I declared, holding it up for Myra to see. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she said nothing.

Dutifully, she took the dress from me and began helping me into it, her fingers quick but gentle as she fastened it in place.

I downed another gulp of the heady wine as she pinned my hair into an intricate updo, feeling more daring with every passing moment.

Just as Myra finished, the door to my chambers creaked open, and I turned to see my husband step inside.

His lone eye, always so calm and steady, widened in surprise as he took in the sight before him—my attire, my flushed cheeks, the faint sway in my stance.

"Well?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips as I twirled around playfully. "How do I look?"

As I twirled in front of my husband, the laughter bubbling up, a flicker of doubt crept in.

My playful smile faltered as I searched his face for a reaction. His expression, still one of astonishment, had yet to shift into something readable.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creeping in, though I wasn't sure if it was from the wine or the sudden fear of rejection.

I bit my lip, waiting for him to say something, anything, to break the silence.

Finally, his lips curved into a small smile, and he shook his head softly as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"You look..." he began, pausing as if trying to find the right words, "...absolutely stunning."

A wave of relief washed over me, but then he chuckled, low and deep, his eye still lingering on me, taking in every detail of the dress.

"The only problem is," he continued, stepping closer, "you've just made my night significantly harder."

I blinked, momentarily confused. "Harder?" I echoed.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his breath warm against my ear. "I'll have to kill any man who so much as glances in your direction tonight."

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, his possessiveness both irritating and endearing.

"Oh, please," I said, swatting his arm lightly. "As if anyone would dare."

"I would," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye, though his tone carried a weight of truth. "Trust me, you look far too tempting for your own good."

I felt my cheeks flush even deeper, not just from the wine this time. He had a way of making me feel like the only woman in the world, and though I wouldn't admit it, I loved that feeling.

The lingering doubt evaporated, replaced by a warm glow of confidence.

"Come on," I said, shaking off the last of my nervousness as I grabbed his arm and started toward the door. "We're going to be late for the celebrations, and I'm not letting you ruin my name day with your dramatics."

He raised an eyebrow but allowed himself to be pulled along, his hand resting protectively at the small of my back as we headed out.

"I wasn't being dramatic," he muttered playfully. "I was being realistic."

I rolled my eyes again, but a part of me secretly enjoyed the attention.

"Just try not to scare everyone away," I teased as we walked together, arm in arm. "You wouldn't want to have to explain a pile of bodies at the feast, now would you?"

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, and leaned in to kiss my temple. "For you, my love, I'd clear the entire room."

I shook my head, but I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Whatever doubts I'd had moments ago were long gone.

As we entered the grand hall, the atmosphere was already brimming with life.

The flickering candlelight cast a warm, golden glow over the long wooden tables, and the soft hum of conversation filled the air.

Servants moved gracefully through the crowd, offering cups of wine and platters of food, while guests mingled and exchanged greetings.

The feast was well underway, and I felt a surge of excitement—the celebration was just beginning.

Aemond's hand rested firmly on my back as we made our way through the sea of familiar faces, towards the head table where the family had gathered.

I caught the curious glances of the other guests, but all my attention was on the small gathering at the front of the room.

Alicent was the first to notice us. As we approached the table, she raised an elegant brow, her lips curling into a faint smile.

"My dear, you look... lovely," she said, her voice warm, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of something more—a mix of surprise and perhaps a touch of concern as they swept over my outfit.

Her gaze shifted, lingering on Aemond for a moment, as though seeking reassurance.

The unspoken question was clear—What had brought this change in me? Aemond, however, simply shrugged, his lips curling into a subtle, knowing smile.

Alicent's eyes returned to me, softening a little as she nodded in silent approval. I gave her a playful grin in response.

Before I could say anything further, Aegon's gaze landed on me.

The wine in his hand nearly slipped from his grasp, and he let out a startled, disbelieving chuckle as he fumbled to steady the goblet.

His reaction was unmistakable—he was accustomed to his sister-in-law being a quiet, reserved, almost sombre presence.

This, however, was not the same woman who would normally sit beside him at these feasts.

"Brother?" he asked, his voice thick with surprise, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

He cast a questioning look at Aemond, who had turned his gaze toward me with an expression of faint amusement.

Aemond glanced at his brother, then back at me.

"The wine," was all he said, his tone low and almost dismissive, as though those two words explained everything.

It was a simple explanation, but one that made Aegon's eyes widen in realization.

Aegon's brow furrowed as he took a sip from his cup, still trying to wrap his mind around the sight of me—his usually composed, soft-spoken sister-in-law, now looking like she had stepped out of a dream or a vision of temptation.

He watched us for a moment, his attention divided between Aemond and me, and I couldn't help but notice the mix of surprise, admiration, and—maybe—concern in his eyes.

I turned away from Aegon, who was still muttering something to himself, and smiled warmly at Helaena, who sat on my other side.

She was gazing at the material of my dress, her fingers lightly tracing the sheer fabric.

She had always been so gentle and kind, and tonight, her soft touch was a calming presence.

"I requested something... a bit different tonight," I confessed softly, leaning into her as she smiled and stroked the delicate pearls along the hem of my gown.

Helaena's fingers danced along the fabric, almost as if she were caressing it in wonder.

"You look beautiful," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with genuine admiration.

Aemond, sensing his brother's lingering curiosity, shot Aegon a pointed look as the two of them watched their wives.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that only his brother could hear.

"The wine," he repeated, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced back toward me. "It's... changed her tonight."

Aegon gave a short, breathless laugh and took a longer drink from his cup.

"I can see that," he muttered under his breath, his gaze still fixed on me, as though he couldn't quite believe his eyes.

As I continued to chat with Helaena, the rest of the feast seemed to fade into the background, the weight of the night's revelations settling over us all.

Whether it was the wine or simply the spirit of my name day, the tension, the usual calm and quietness I maintained, had been stripped away—leaving behind something far more bold and daring.

Aemond, despite his usual reserve, was now amused, even protective, his eyes never straying too far from me.

As the night wore on, the feast grew livelier. The food had been devoured, the wine flowed freely, and the air was thick with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of goblets.

The guests had loosened up, and even my normally composed family had allowed themselves a bit more revelry than usual.

It was a celebration, and the wine had worked its magic on everyone, including me.

Aemond and I had settled into a quiet corner of the hall, away from the boisterous crowds, but still close enough to the warmth of the firelight.

The candles flickered softly, casting shadows across his face, which was illuminated by the occasional glint of amusement.

I could feel the effect the night had had on him—his usual composure was slightly undone, though he held it together with practised ease.

He kept his hand on my waist, a reassuring, possessive touch that sent warmth through my entire body.

The wine had made me bold, and I found myself more daring than I'd ever been before.

The veil of restraint had been lifted, and I was revelling in this new, intoxicating freedom. I glanced up at him, my lips curling into a mischievous smile as I leaned in closer.

His single eye was fixed on me, but I could see the subtle tension in his jaw. He knew something was coming—he always did.

But what he didn't know, not yet, was that tonight, I was not the quiet, reserved wife he had grown accustomed to.

I let my breath caress his ear, my voice low and sultry.

"You know," I whispered, pausing just long enough to watch his expression shift, "I can think of a few things we could do... right here... right now."

The words were daring—bold, even—things I would never have spoken aloud before. But the wine had unleashed a side of me I hadn't known existed.

I felt his body stiffen slightly, his breath hitching as he realized what I'd said.

For a moment, his eye darkened, his brow furrowing in surprise. I could feel the muscles in his body tense as if he was trying to reign himself in, to suppress whatever thoughts the mere suggestion had triggered.

His hand gripped my waist a little tighter, and his voice, when he finally spoke, was rough with restraint.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "You're treading dangerously close to my limits, wife."

I giggled, the sound light and teasing, a complete contrast to the heated tension hanging between us.

His eye darkened further, and I could see the war within him—the desire that was growing more impossible to suppress.

Without giving him a moment to respond, I slipped away from his grasp, my smile widening as I sprang to my feet.

I turned and gave him one last playful look, my eyes glinting with mischief.

"Catch me if you can," I teased, my voice ringing out with laughter as I spun away, darting through the crowd.

For a moment, Aemond sat frozen, his expression caught between disbelief and a smouldering intensity that burned in the pit of his stomach.

He had never seen me like this—so unbound, so audacious.

And though he was accustomed to controlling his emotions, to reigning in his passions, tonight was different.

Tonight, it was impossible to ignore the shift in me, the change that had come over me, and the change that had come over him in response.

"Damn you," he muttered under his breath, though the smile playing at the corner of his lips betrayed the amusement he tried to hide.

Without another word, he was on his feet, moving through the guests with a predatory grace.

He didn't need to say anything—his body language said it all. His eye was fixed on me as I weaved through the crowd, laughing all the while, knowing he would chase me down.

I could hear the growing commotion as people noticed the two of us—his determined strides, my playful giggles, and the unmistakable energy between us.

I darted around a table, narrowly avoiding a collision with a few revellers, and looked back to see Aemond gaining on me.

His strides were long, powerful, and graceful.

I loved the way he moved, the way his presence commanded attention.

And in that moment, I realized I was more than willing to embrace this new side of me—this daring, playful, seductive side.

I could hear his footsteps coming closer, and just as I thought I could escape him, I felt a strong hand wrap around my wrist.

"You think you can outrun me, wife?" His voice was a low growl, but there was an edge of amusement in it.

He spun me around to face him, his eye blazing with unspoken desire. His other hand gripped my waist firmly, pulling me close against him.

I let out a breathy laugh, but there was no fear in it—only excitement.

"Maybe," I whispered, a wicked grin playing on my lips. "But you'll have to catch me first."

Aemond's smirk widened, and I could see the struggle on his face as he tried to maintain control. But it was no use.

The fire between us was undeniable, and he was already on the verge of losing himself to it.

"You're playing with fire," he murmured, his breath hot against my lips.

And before I could respond, he captured my mouth with his, kissing me deeply, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, drawing me even closer to him.

The kiss was slow at first, deliberate as if he was savouring every second of the moment.

But soon it turned ferocious, hungry, a culmination of the night's passions that had been building between us.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against mine, we were both breathing heavily, our eyes locked with that undeniable connection—one that had shifted from restraint to something far more primal and daring.

"You've changed," he murmured, his voice rough but full of warmth. "And I love it."

I smiled, my heart racing, as I slipped my arms around his neck. "Good," I whispered. "Because so have you."

And with that, he kissed me again, this time with no reservations, no holding back—just two people fully embracing the night, and each other.

A/n - Aegon gifted that wine btw ALSO your girl turns 21 today idk how it worked out that a fic about birthdays got scheduled for my actual birthday but life's funny like that 😝

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy @veesuguru

[akanemnon]

hi!! i just wanted to say, i LOVE your art!! i started drawing my kris design with braces after seeing dubs of your comic on yt, and when i found you on tumblr i was beyond excited to see all of it in context. i’m a comic artist as well, and i was wondering— how do you choose your color palettes ?? besides obviously picking colors from the characters themselves, that’s a given— but your comics are bright and colorful and just a real pleasure to read because they’re so visually appealing. hope this question hasn’t been asked before!!

Thank you so very much!

So I really went into your question under the cut. So feel free to proceed if that is something that interests you.

The answer is honestly not that exciting. For the characters I really only do pick colors off the original sprites. Which is why they look so bright and colorful. If you try to do that yourself, you will quickly notice how SATURATED the sprites are. And not only the sprites, but also the backgrounds.

A little trick I use is that for pre-existing backgrounds I take all the colors and brighten + desaturate them just a teeeensy tiny bit. That way the characters in the foreground pop way more.

Another way to make the colors pop even more is to use colored shading AND colored lineart! That really IS what ties everything together. Let me show you..

This is a panel without the colored shading and lineart.

And this is it again WITH all that good stuff. Quite the difference, no?

But you're asking about color palettes, so I guess you also mean for the characters/outfits I designed? A lot of it boils down to color theory. I am by NO means an expert on that subject, but when looking at the Dark World designs specifically, you will notice how I did it.

For example: Frisk's Dark World color scheme is mainly analogous. That means the colors are right next to each other on the color wheel. But there is a little bit of complimentary in there.

Here, lemme visualize it...

Frisk's color scheme is a light green, darkish blue green, light yellow and a splash of pink. The red is there mostly just for lore reasons.

One thing I noticed when looking at the sprites of all the Dark World versions is that they are EXTREMELY bright and saturated.

That is something I tried to capture as well, but I think it didn't neccessarily nail it a lot of the time. Especially for Frisk's color scheme. If I stuck closer to what the game is doing, then in theory they would look more like this (using Kris' colors as a reference)

Looking back, I WOULD tweak their colors slightly more nowadays. Just so that the contrast between the colors is a little stronger and they don't blend together as much. This improves the readability of your design. Not all people are able to perceive every color of the rainbow, so readability is EXTREMELY important. Best way to see that is by desaturating them and checking the grayscale. Like so (left is the one closer to the game's colors)

Man, this REALLY makes me wanna fix their color scheme. This has been bugging me for a while now. (Though I'm kinda afraid that people point out that they look different.)

[txttletale]

i get hating lancer for being typical insufferable liberal fart-smelling and hand-waving so many things like the existence of NHPs and the weird "everything under the union is a utopia, except for the parts that aren't" but i think the most frustrating thing *alongside* all of this is the fact that it's genuinely well put together, in the aspect of game mechanics and readability and online tools (especially compcon).

yeah lancer is fucking fantastically put together as a game. so much depth and expression to character building, such elegant rules, and such a welath of excellent gm resources. i really loved my actual time with that game for sure. COMP/CON is i think the best online resource for any ttrpg bar none

[tofupixel]

I recently started learning to use rpg maker (vx ace!) and as a result have become increasingly interested in pixel art. I hadn't really done pixel work since my teens - I do more digital painting and vector art - so while I'm a little familiar and can do passable editing, there's a lot I don't know.

One thing that's kind of perplexing for me is understanding the differences in style between two creators of pixel art. I studied art history and I'm used to the differences being things like brush stroke length or degree of realism... I feel like I'm lacking in lexicon in this new frontier lol

What nuances of an artist do you think are most important to style in pixel art?

This kind of stuff is not really officially studied (yet) so it's all a bit of opinion from me.

Usually in pixel art the biggest differences in styles are which limitations the artists choose to impose on themselves; colour count, resolution, palette... Or more stylistic choices like hue shifting, anti-aliasing style or no, dithering or no, etc.

I personally think there are a huge variety of styles in pixel art, as it's literally just a medium, and I hope you'll agree by the end 8)

Also (imo) there is some seperation between the styles of art for art's sake, and art for videogames, where things have to be clear and readable to be actually playable.

🎮 Old school games:

Sometimes referred to as something like '8-bit' or '16-bit' (relating to the NES era / SNES era consoles), these artstyles usually follow the rules and limitations of the hardware at the time.

This all falls under retro art, most popular styles include: NES, SNES, GB, GBC, C64

Notable artists: Nickwoz, Sandy Gordon, Franken, Cisco

📚 Old school art:

There were also events called Demoscene (still are), where developers would go to a big convention and share their demos. A lot of pixel art competitions were held here, where artists would draw live.

Generally they used to favour a high realism/semirealism style, with lots of texture/dithering, fairly high resolution (if the hardware allowed for it), and adjacent pixels mostly being different from one another.

There are even older styles than this but they are fairly niche and I'm not that well educated. If interested look into some of the old PCs/consoles.

⭐ Modern pixel art:

Usually using more colours and higher resolution, larger clusters of pixels instead of individual ones. Strong use of art fundamentals.

Artists to look at: Adam Ferguson (yes it is pixel art), Snake, Slym, 6VCR, Yes I do Pixels, Gijotto, SovanJedi, JoeCreates, Franek, @8pxl

the rest below are "modern" pixel artists too but I think they have other things in their style that are a bit different!

🎨 Painterly:

Some artists choose to emulate the natural brushstrokes digitally, and keep their clusters large and loose. Usually don't focus on the minute details as much.

@makrustic, @hexh-pixel, Umbohr, Gawrone

🟦 Dithering

These artists all use dithering / texture in ways that make their styles totally unique.

Deceiver, Night, Reo,

💥 Experimental

These artists are always trying new things and honing in on their unique style.

AJ, hby, @ilta222, Alphons

I could really go on for ever, there are so many different styles, cute pixel art, horror pixel art, 1bit (2 colours only), and then adding animation takes it even further, but I think you get the idea

If you want to learn more, the Masters of Pixel Art books have works /interviews from pixel artists of different eras, including demoscene and contemporary.

😊👍

[ccrisalright]

Kinderronpa: Loop's End (Kindergarten x Danganronpa AU)

Let's keep the party going, over and over and over.

Hey! This au is a joint one with @greyzanticz, who completed half of the refs! My previous post was deleted because it only had half of the designs (the ones I made). Sorry for any confusion!

At the moment. this au is just gonna be refs and the occasional doodle from me or Grey, but there are death orders, motives, backstories, and a plot mostly laid out.

I'm not gonna spoil anything, but if you want to know anything about the characters, relationships, ect, I'm more than willing to answer asks (answers would be ran through me and Grey).

This au might become a series of posts with the plot, it might become a readable script, a video series (unlikely), or it could become nothing. But I hope you can enjoy the art me and Grey have made either way!

(Also we might add the KG3 people officially after the games out, but no promises)

Anyway, to the main event:

When 13 gifted students are accepted into the prestigious Hope's Peak Academy, they expect a normal school life.

Of course, that's not what they recieve.

How will they fair in a killing game, run by a duel personality apple, filled with weird robots who act unusually humanlike (including an ultimate herself), and what feels like infinite secrets to discover?

Well, spoiler, most of them die.

Who? When? Why?

Guess you'll have to stick around and find out!

Someone worked real hard to give you all a good show, so grab your popcorn, and enjoy!

:)

[greenerteacups]

What do you think of jkr as a writer? I for one has always felt like she didn’t treat her female characters well. It felt strange, being critical of her when she was god queen of the earth, and also being 10

I think most of the problems in her books can be chalked up to genre hopping. Books 1-3 are perfectly good and serviceable children's books — great children's books, even! They have compelling, relatable characters and juicy mystery plots. They have problems, sure, but for the first three books someone's ever written — especially someone with little or no background in creative writing — they're really fucking good. So: there's her flowers.

The last four books pivot sharply into much more emotionally complicated and sociopolitically loaded territory, because they're describing a war. And it's hard to write children's books about war. I would venture you can't really do it, at least without dramatically misrepresenting what war is! And so Rowling makes the executive decision somewhere during the writing of Book 4 that she's not going to flinch away from that, she's going to go for dramatic realism, and she kills Cedric Diggory to let us know. People had died in Harry Potter before, of course — Quirrell gets sent to the fucking shadow realm, for example. But children haven't. (It also gives parents who are reading these books with their children a warning shot: shit is about to get significantly more real, think twice before you buy the next one of these for your 10-year-old.) After that, Rowling starts leaning much more into dramatic realism, and the fast-paced mystery-novel plotting of the first few books is replaced by a slow, simmering political conflict that unfurls over the course of about a million words.

The problem — besides the fact that she's picking one of the hardest things to write about, like, in all of literature, war is really insanely complicated and emotionally intense and hard to portray well — is that she's now trying to use characters, plot points, and technologies she developed for a children's series to enact a sprawling war drama among teenagers and adults. So Hermione, who was a reasonably precocious snobby eleven-year-old, becomes this sort of encyclopedic all-knowing savant of the wizarding world, who somehow remains functional and mostly even-headed despite her identity being the chief target of a prolifically murderous terrorist group. Draco Malfoy, a schoolyard bully whose primary tools included 1. namecalling and 2. telling teacher, JOINS said terrorist group (and admittedly does react reasonably, i.e., has a total crashout and takes to sobbing in a girls' bathroom whenever he gets a free minute). Dumbledore, who starts out as "whimsical friendly winky-wink trustworthy grandfather type", ends up being Magical Winston Churchill in a violent game of spycraft and espionage, eventually revealing he's only been keeping Harry at all these seven years because he wants to KILL him! And like, maybe really good technical writing could smooth out these transitions and make the first-order dramatic choices seem more natural, but Rowling is like, a Fine Writer, technically speaking. meaning she's reasonably consistent in characterization, her plotting is well-paced and believable, she has a clear authorial voice, and her prose is readable. personally, that's not enough to get me to buy into some of the changes that happen in the later books, and because she stuffs these things so full with new elements every installment, a lot of stuff ends up getting glossed over.

And like, I still love the books. I think they're wonderful, and they taught me how to read. but i can say that and also say that Rowling probably did herself a disservice by trying to write four giant war novels as sequels to her first three mystery children's books.

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 1

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Next chapter

Word count: 3543

Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

The harsh cold cuts through your many thick layers of clothing and your limbs gradually grow number by the minute. Pain shoots through your fingers everytime you move them just to make sure they're still working. The last thing you want is to loose any body parts to hypothermia this early on in your journey.

One foot at the time. Come on.

As you stumble through the knee-high snow and fight your way through the merciless storm, you silently curse yourself out. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved in this.

-

"Arthur Morgan? That name rings a bell, actually.", Francis mumbles under his breath as his eyes trail over the words of the journal you had handed to him earlier.

The book is in poor condition with most of the pages missing and the ones that are still attached, are barely readable. Only a few passages are intact, but it's enough to let you roughly know what happened to the author.

"I thought you might have maybe heard of him during your travels.", you answer with a hopeful tone. Your eyes stare expectantly at the red head as you wait for him to finish reading.

The author wrote the journal around the end of the 1800s which is the same time Francis likes to visit every now and then.

"I think I remember now!", he exclaims with raised eyebrows and you jump up from the chair you're sitting on.

"You do? Can you...help me out then?"

-

You have no idea why the story of Arthur Morgan had moved you so much. His life and the way he put it into words had shaken you to your core.

A shuddering sigh escapes your lips and even through the scarf that covers half of your face, you're able to see the cloud of air.

-

"You want to safe him? Why?", Francis asks and his tone is laced with utter disbelief. Yes, he met the man during one of his travels and even though Arthur didn't know him at all, he still had helped find all the rock carvings.

"The way things went and the way they ended for him...it doesn't feel right.", you explain with furrowed brows.

"It's dangerous. Yes, the country started to enforce the law more seriously during that time, but there were still so many gangs, robberies and shootings. I can't even begin to count all the things that could go wrong on your journey."

Francis' gaze is serious and stern. He's making his disapproval of your idea more than clear, but you're not willing to give up on your plan. Not yet.

"Nothing will go wrong if you help me prepare.", you answer and take both of his hands in yours to give them a reassuring squeeze.

His expression is unmoving, but his eyes betray the crumbling resistance within him. He's only a couple more arguments away of giving in.

-

The memory makes you chuckle. It's a low and bitter sound. Indeed, he had helped you get prepared for your adventure. Your leather bag is stuffed with canned food, some clothes and other equipment that might come in handy.

All the shirts, skirts and pants fit the style of the 1890s to make it easier for you to blend in. Francis had even been so kind to give you a quick history lesson that covered all the basics.

-

The cattleman revolver feels unfamiliar and heavy in your hands as you study the weapon more closely.

"Do you know how to shoot?", Francis asks and crosses his arms infront of his chest as he leans against the edge of the table.

The closest you have ever come to working a gun was reading about it in Arthur's journal, but admitting that might make Francis change his mind about the whole thing.

"Of course.", you lie with full confidence and slide the revolver back into the holster.

-

In the beginning you were a bit disturbed by the sight of the weapon attached to your belt. Feeling the weight of it now and the way it sometimes brushes over your thigh...it brings you some comfort. Comfort, knowing that you have the means to protect and defend yourself.

If only you have been aware over how soon you'd have to use that thing.

-

"There is an abandoned settlement called Colter nearby.", Francis explains and points at a spot on the map that is spread out over the table. "They will be hiding there after that whole ordeal in Blackwater."

This would be your chance to join the gang and get close to everyone. The mere thought of actually meeting these people fills you with both excitement and anxiety. You don't know any of them and it makes you wonder how they'll react to you.

"The winter was particularly bad that year so make sure to move quick and don't get lost.", he says, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Don't worry."

-

Yes. Don't worry, I said. It will be fine, I said.

Nothing could have prepared you for the pack of wolves that had shown up right after you traveled back in time. Not a single bullet had hit its mark, but the ear piercing noise from the shots had driven them away.

Everytime you recall that encounter in your mind, the beat of your heart picks up frantically and you hear your blood rushing in your ears. The experience had scarred you for sure.

Finally, the snowstorm seems to calm down and your vision clears up again. As you blink the remaining snowflakes away, you spot smoke in the distance. Could that be the settlement?

Without a second thought you pick up your pace and quickly make your way towards the dark pillar of smoke. It's further away than you had anticipated, but after a while you arrive at the place just to be met with...well, no one.

The fire has died down and there is not a single soul to be seen in the area. You notice that the wood is still slightly warm though so whoever had camped here left only recently.

Your eyes wander around, trying to find a sign, anything that could indicate where that person might have gone to. There is only one set of footprints in the snow, accompanied with prints that look like hooves.

It could be someone from the gang who is out hunting at the moment. It's also possible that they went back to the others so maybe these tracks could lead you right to their hideout.

With a new found hope you quickly follow the tracks. Even if it isn't anyone from the gang, that person you're searching for could still give you shelter or food. Any type of help is welcome, really. You're in no position to be picky at the moment.

The tracks lead up a mountain and you see something dark laying on the ground. A pit forms in your stomach as you approach it and recognize what it is.

The sight infront of you is revolting and you fight back a gag. A horse is laying spread out in the snow with its stomach shredded to pieces and the insides hanging out. A foul stench penetrates your nose and you abruptly turn away.

Whatever happened here, it hadn't ended well. Weirdly enough, the horse is the only dead body here though. There is no sign of the owner and you stumble upon more footprints.

It must be the same person from the makeshift camp, by the looks of it. At least the size and shape of the boots are similar. You keep following them and swallow a lump in your throat when your eyes fall on blood. It seems like the person got hurt as well by whatever attacked the horse.

Could it have been wolves? Perhaps even the same ones that wanted to make a meal out of you? You banish the thought before it could make you panic. Now is not the time to contemplate about your near-death encounter.

Someone obviously needs help and that is the whole reason why you're here in the first place. Just because the person in need of help isn't the one who you're actually here for, doesn't mean you should abandon them.

The footprints lead around the mountain and with lots of huffing and panting, you climb over rocks and duck under them. It's exhausting your body more than anything you had ever done before and your muscles grow heavy.

"Hello?", you yell out into the vast nothingness and calm your breathing to be able to focus on listening for a response. Nothing.

You give it another try, but again nothing happens. Frustration boils up inside your chest and you mutter a few curses to yourself.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Now you're not only extremely tired and worn out from this unnecessary hike, you're also way off the trail that leads towards Colter and who knows if you will even be able to find your way back.

Sure, you could easily follow your own footprints, but by the way your luck has been the past few days, another snowstorm will most likely ruin that plan. Unless the thing that killed the horse earlier comes back to put you out of your misery as well.

Perhaps Francis was right. Perhaps you were being stupid and naive to think that you could possibly travel back in time to-

"Help!"

There it is. A voice. A person! You bite back a relieved sob and take a deep breath to answer the call.

"I'm over here!", the other person answers and you jog towards the source of the voice.

As you peek over the edge of a wall, you're being met with a pair of glassy, grey eyes. A man with long black hair and messy clothes, is sitting in the snow and looks up to you.

"I didn't think I'd meet anyone out here.", he jokes with a raspy voice and you climb down the wall to kneel next to him.

His face is covered in blood and there are deep wounds on his right cheek. It looks like claw marks.

"What happened?", you ask breathlessly as you hurry to open your bag.

"Wolves. A whole pack of 'em." His answer comes out more as a grunt than anything and it's obvious that talking alone brings him too much pain.

You fish out an alcohol bottle and pour some of the content onto your handkerchief. Gently, you dab the cloth on his wounds to disinfect them and he let's out a harsh hiss.

"I'm sorry.", you mumble apologetically, but he simply waves it off. He knows you're only trying to help.

None of you are saying anything while you tend to his wounds and your mind is racing with thoughts and questions. What will you do now? The man doesn't look like he can stand up and you don't have the means to carry him down this mountain.

But even just considering the option of leaving him here to the elements makes you feel a tang of guilt in your chest. Leaving him alone means leaving him to die and you don't know if you can live with that.

"Do you think you can get up? I can't carry you, but if you lean on me we could make it down this mountain.", you suggest and the man opens his mouth to answer you.

Before he can even bring out a word, a gunshot cuts through the air and you let out a startled noise. Another person? This is starting to become quite a party.

Yelling can be heard from a distance. A man. No, it's two.

"Marston!", one of them screams from the top of his lungs and the bleeding stranger infront of you responds almost immediately.

It doesn't take long for the others to find you and you stand up from your spot. The two men are standing on the edge of the wall and one of them jumps down. The next moment you find yourself at the end of a gun.

You lift your hands and take a careful step back while your eyes are fixed on the weapon pointed right at your face.

"Who are you?", asks the man. He's wearing a thick blue coat and a worn cowboy hat with a few bullet holes in it.

"Put the gun down. She found me here and helped.", answered the injured guy and for what feels like eternity the man finally lowers the gun.

You allow yourself to let out a relieved breath as he turns away to face the one still sitting on the ground.

"You look even uglier than before, Marston.", he says to the injured stranger and something clicks inside your brain.

Marston? John Marston?

While your mind pieces all the clues together, the man who is still on the wall reaches out his hand towards you. A friendly smile graces his lips and you return it before taking his hand and letting him help you climb back up.

"You guys are lucky that we found you.", he says and you nod. He's right. Even with your plan to have John lean on you while you walk back, there is no guarantee that it would have actually worked.

You're pretty sure that you would have probably slipped and fallen to your certain death. A few moments later John and the other guy are on top as well.

"Arthur, carry him on your shoulder while we go back to our horses.", the man who helped you up the wall said and your eyes fall on one with the blue coat.

Is this Arthur Morgan?

You lock eyes with him after he throws John over his shoulder and he gives you a confused look.

"What are you starin' at?", he grunts.

Embarrassed, you cough into your fist and let out a flustered chuckle.

"I'm so sorry, sir. It's just that you remind me of someone, is all.", you hastily explain and turn away to prevent any more awkwardness.

What a great first impression you're leaving. As you all make your way back to the horses, the three men introduce themselves to you and you give them your name as well.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?", Javier asks and throws you a curious look over his shoulder.

"I had to leave my home. We...we got robbed and lost the house.", you answer. It's a lie that you and Francis have come up with.

If anyone asks you'd tell them that a gang robbed your home and burned down the house. No one can check your background if you tell them there is nothing left to check. At least that's what you're hoping for.

"You said 'we'. Is anyone else out here?", Arthur asks and shoots you a quick look.

"No. I'm alone now.", you answer which is not really a lie. You are alone indeed.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

Before you're able to thank him, Javier points at something in the distance.

"Guys, I think we got company."

A small group of wolves appear on the hill a few meters away from you guys and your heart sinks. The gunshot and all the yelling must have caught their attention or maybe it's the smell of John's blood.

Arthur hands him over to Javier and pulls out a shotgun as he walks towards the wild animals.

"I'll distract 'em. You guys go to the horses.", he yells over his shoulder and you and Javier start running.

A few shots are being fired behind you, but you don't dare to look back. Your heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and adrenaline rushes through your veins. It's the only reason why you're able to move this fast.

Javier mounts his horse together with John and you climb onto the back of the one you assume must be Arthur's. Just as you turn your head to see where the said man is, he's already by your side and jumps into the saddle.

Without another word, the two horses start sprinting. The sudden acceleration startles you and instinctively your arms shoot forward to wrap around Arthur's torso. Then you notice something in the corner of your eye.

"We got more coming from the right!", you let the others know and grab the cattleman from your holster.

Thankfully, Arthur proves himself to be more than competent with his own gun and takes out the entire pack in a matter of seconds without you having to help out. At least that's what it looked like at first.

Another wolf jumps out from between trees right at the both of you and you extend your arm to fire a shot. It hits. For the first time you have actually hit something.

The rest of the ride goes by quietly with no deadly surprises. So far it's all going to plan (besides the fact that you almost got your face bitten off that is) and with a little luck and persuasion on your part they might even let you stay with them.

Once you reach the settlement, you slide off the back of Arthur's Tennessee Walker and take a step to the side when a large group of people start pouring out from the run down houses.

But the person who catches your attention the most is a man wearing a black coat and a red scarf. It's not his outfit that draws your gaze towards his direction, but more the energy he gives off. There is something about him that makes you feel like you have to be on your toes.

Maybe it's the authority that radiates off of him like the heat of a house on fire or maybe it's something else. Obviously, he's the leader of this group with the way he's barking orders. They don't seem to fear him though.

Then his eyes fall on you and he takes your whole appearance in. You recall a name from the journal as he approaches you with an extended hand and you shake it firmly.

"Dutch Van Der Linde. Arthur told me that you helped them with John."

You only manage a nod.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate that you went out of your way to help one of my men. Come on, let's head inside so we can talk.", he adds and leads you towards one of the cabins

There is a fire burning inside, but with all the holes in the roof and walls it does barely anything to keep the cold away. Dutch motions towards one of the chairs next to the fireplace and takes a seat infront of you.

Arthur's blue coat appears in the corner of your eye as he closes the creaking door and leans against it with his arms closed. Yes, Dutch said it would be a casual talk, but now it feels more like an interrogation.

Quietly you fold your gloved hands on your lap and wait for Dutch to say the first word. You plan on telling him only the most necessary stuff and would rather avoid getting tangled up in your web of lies.

"So, Arthur tells me you lost your home?"

You avoid his piercing gaze and look down at your lap.

"I did, sir."

On the side of your vision, you see him nod to himself.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Now, miss..."

Your head snaps up to look at him as he bends forward to get a better look at your face.

"This is a harsh winter and I'd feel bad sending you out in this cold all by yourself, so if you want, you can stay with us."

His offer makes you nod hastily and you try to mask your excitement. There is no need to make them suspicious with your eagerness. No person with a clear mind would be this happy to stay with a bunch of outlaws and you have to play the part.

"We may not be good people, but we care for one another. As long as you pull your weight, we will happily welcome you."

With these words you place your bag on the floor and open it up to reveal the canned food you have been traveling with.

"I got some food on me. Agreed, it's not a lot, but it's all I have."

A pleased look spreads over Dutch's face and he nod.

"It's greatly appreciated. Go find Mr. Pearson and give these to him.", he says and you throw your bag back over your shoulder after getting back on your feet.

Once you close the door behind you, you overhear Arthur say something.

"Are you sure about this, Dutch? It's another mouth to feed."

You hold your breath so you have an easier time listening in on them. Of course, he's right to be concerned about you becoming a member. By the sound and look of it, they're struggling to keep everyone fed.

"We have been through worse.", Dutch answers and a wave of relief washes over you. It's good to know that you won't get kicked out on the first day.

So where is this Mr. Pearson?

[ladytabletop]

Do you happen to have any resources regarding accessibility in ttrpg design? About design, colours, phrasing of text or anything else that could be helpful!

I spent wayyyyy too long compiling all this - but it's important, and I appreciate you asking!!

Accessibility is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I will say up front that I'm not sure universal (aka accessible to everyone) design is possible, because people's needs can vary even within the same subset of similar disabilities (such as limited vision or blindness). BUT that doesn't mean we don't try to design for and make our games available to as many people as possible. Mismatch by Kat Holmes is a great read on design for accessibility in general, as is Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez. You might also check out literally anything Alice Wong has ever done.

To start, I recommend this article on the Lenses of Accessibility.

(for reference, this article is about web/graphic design, so I'm going to try and distill the most salient points for game design)

We are going to primarily focus on a few of these lenses:

Color

Font

Images & Icons

Layout

Readability

Structure

Keyboard

More details under the cut.

Color

Why does color matter? Well, for starters, there's a lot of colorblind people out there. Contrast affects readability. Autistic people and people who suffer from occular migraines might be affected by particular vivid colors. There's lots of reasons to consider color and the work it is doing in your piece, but in general you can provide a black and white, high contrast version of your game to help users.

There are tools out there to figure out if your contrast meets certain readability standards, such as this one.

Font

Dyslexia and other visual processing issues can make font choice really important. Plus, some fonts really affect readability. Additionally, line height, justification, and size of text can affect readability.

Best practice would be to provide a plain-text version of your game (and beware of "dyslexia-friendly" fonts which may or may not actually help - sticking to a basic readability font like Arial, Tahoma, or Verdana, is safest). I like this style guide for reference.

Images & Icons

For visually-impaired people, it's important to use alt-text, descriptions, and/or captions to help screenreaders properly translate images. Tons and tons of details that could go into this, but there are better people than me to describe it.

Layout

We've talked about this a bit, but there's tons of resources for this. There was recently a great writeup about Yazeba's Bed and Breakfast in terms of layout that I highly recommend.

Readability

More of the thing we've already talked about - it really is a combination of all the other lenses that comes down to readability. Audio versions of your game are always a good way to avoid the restrictions of screen readers, but can be expensive to produce.

Structure

This is tables. Tables are a nightmare for screenreaders, but including them as images can also be a problem. The short solution is "don't use tables" but that's not necessarily great for seeing people. The section in this blog is really great when talking about options for structure.

Keyboard

Debated on whether to include this, but given how many games are being read as purely digital files, I think it's important to have workable interactive elements that can be navigated through without a mouse. Some of that is going to come down to the programs being used to open your files. But if there are things you can do on your end (such as labeling form fillable fields on an interactive character sheet), they're worth doing!

Please understand that this isn't an exhaustive list. There's tons of resources out there and technology and standards are constantly changing.

It's also is important to note that even doing one of these things is helpful. You might look at this list and go "wow that's too hard" but I promise you, it's worth it. My games do not all have accessible versions! That's something I'm trying to rectify. The biggest part of that for me is thinking about accessibility from the start instead of at the end! But we can start today, and that's better than not starting.

The most important thing to remember are that disabled people are NOT a monolith - needs will differ from person to person. Accessible design makes gaming better for everyone!

Final Resources:

Accessibility in InDesign

Accessible-RPG

A11Y

Accessible Design for Teams