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dotieeee · 2 months

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The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 11

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 11 Warnings:

The blackest of mails, like vanta-blackmail lolol

Replay Level 10

Ready? Level 11 Start:

Acacius Innis runs his fingers through his hair as soon as you finish telling your story.

You had just told him everything that transpired that day, save your mentor’s…gestures of affection. You ensured that he heard only what he needed to know: about his program being seized by the Citadel, you being promoted – perhaps so you could be kept under further surveillance – and about how you had said a few scornful words to Coriolanus Snow that you’re aware may bite you back in the ass.

Your uncle never spoke a word the entire time and chose to lend his ear instead.

He sighs, slaps his knees lightly and gets up from the couch, muttering to himself, ‘I’m getting a little too old for this.’

He saunters to the kitchen, emerging a few minutes later with two steaming mugs in either hand. He places one on the coffee table, and the other he makes you cup with both hands. He then encases your hands in his as he kneels before you.

Mmm. Hot chocolate. Almost as comforting as your uncle’s presence.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from all this,” he says in the most contrite expression you’ve seen on him. “I want you to know that I tried, I really did.”

But he has nothing to apologise for; he never has. “You led me to the Citadel that day, didn’t you?”

He lifts a corner of his mouth wanly. “I wanted you to see for yourself what kind of man you were dealing with. Looking back now, I wish I could’ve done more. I could’ve done so much more, Nellie.”

“No, uncle, you did everything you could. You always do. I couldn’t have asked for anything else,” you assure him. Your uncle has never failed you, but you have failed him time and again, and this is one of those instances. “I know you tried helping me without making it look like you were mollycoddling me.”

He tilts his head in agreement as he chuckles a little. “Yeah, well, you were always yapping about how you were ‘adult enough’ to handle things on your own,” he says fondly. “You were always independent, even when you were a little girl.”

Your tears have already abated back at the dumpster, but this time, they come back with an even more brutal force.

“I know…The truth is, uncle, I don’t think I can this time…I can’t do this anymore…” you choke on your own tears as your grip on the mug shakes.

“Hey, hey,” he says, putting down your mug on the coffee table. He cups your cheeks to wipe the tears away. “The fuck you can’t. You’re the bravest girl I know, Nellie. Now, I made a promise to your dad that I will look after you. And I will, until the day I die, plumcake.”

His expression turns sombre as he stands, running his fingers through his greying hair.

“That’s why I’m sending you to District 3.”

You whip your head up sharply at him.

“What?” Why does it sound like he’s sending you alone? “You’re coming with, right? Uncle, you have to.”

“I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“Why?”

He sighs deeply as he takes his seat back on the sofa. “It’s much more complicated for me, plumcake. I’ll tell you some other time,” he adds, seeing the look of protest on your face. “Right now, it’s important that we get you there without anyone finding out. I can send the message to your aunt tonight. Listen to me carefully:

“You need to pack lightly, and we need to get to the earliest train leaving straight for District 3. That’s at five in the morning. Your aunt will pick you up when you get there, and she’ll set you up somewhere they can’t trace you.”

Uncle Cas leans forward and threads his fingers together in contemplation. Once again, the lines on his face and the bags under his eyes become more apparent. You worry that if you go, he’ll be left to deal with the aftermath of your actions.

“What if they, or he, think you helped me escape? Why can’t you come with me instead?”

“Then we make it look like you simply ran away,” Uncle Cas says casually. “You can even leave a note and shit. And don’t worry about me. Your uncle is a lot tougher than he looks.”

He flashes you a reassuring smile, before adding, “I will follow when I can, plumcake. Okay?”

But he says it in this tone that he uses on you when he’s hiding something, and he just wants you to let go of the matter. However, you are also well aware that if you don’t leave tomorrow for District 3, there is a chance you may never leave the Capitol again.

So you nod and begin stuffing your bag with essentials. You had to ensure it was an easy thing to grab if you ever needed to be quick on your feet. You pause when you get to the bookshelf. Your eyes immediately land on the far end of the arithmetic textbooks you’ve collected over the years:

Sejanus’s book of condensed romantic novels.

If you’re going to spend an indefinite amount of time to yourself hiding like an outlaw, you might as well take something of Sejanus with you. You grab the book and hide it among the clothes you packed.

You barely get any sleep in the next hours counting to four thirty, and when your uncle knocks on your bedroom door, you’re ready to go in ten seconds.

Your uncle manages to drive you himself to the train station without drawing attention, but as a precaution, he drops you off a few blocks away from the station building. Before you exit the car, he gives you his final instructions.

“I can’t be seen with you inside the station, and that building has cameras inside and out, so you’ll have to walk all the way there, I’m afraid. Just in case, I will park outside and wait; that way, if they ask, I’ll tell them you ran away and I’m looking for you. Got it?”

You nod once and gulp. This can’t be the last time you’ll see him in a long while, right? Nonetheless, you give him the tightest hug you can muster.

“Uncle, please be careful, okay? Video-call me write to me, or whatever, please?” you implore. You try to hold in the tears threatening to burst, but it’s getting close to impossible.

“I’ll be fine, plumcake, and yes, I’ll call every day if I can. Don’t cry now, you’ll be fine,” he whispers, patting your back and then pulling away, ruffling your hair as he urges, “Now, go. I’ll feel a lot better when you’re with your aunt.”

As you step out of the car, you glance behind you one more time just as your uncle drives off to a corner and out of sight. You wipe away any tears in your eyes and on your cheeks, adjust your bag, and walk as briskly as you can to the train station.

You keep a straight face as you go through the iris scanning at the peacekeeper station. The peacekeeper waves you forward once it’s finished and even gives you a polite salute, and your shoulders sag in relief once you’re several feet away. The ticketing booths are almost empty save for a few lone would-be passengers. The waiting area looks even more sparse. Only the freight section, located on the other side of the building, seems to be seeing any action, with the porters busy fork lifting large wooden crates to and from the freight carriages.

By the time you walk up to a booth, there is no one else on the line, so you ask the ticket agent for an express to District 3. You hand her the money in exchange for the ticket and casually proceed to the waiting area. You sigh as you sit and put down your bag. Filled with unease, which you guess will only abate when you’re inside a carriage, with the train moving as fast as it can all the way to District 3 where your aunt would be waiting, you check your watch every five minutes.

Ten-minute mark. Only ten minutes more and you’ll never see Coriolanus Snow ever again.

You almost jump as you feel a tap on the shoulder from behind. You turn to find the same peacekeeper who saluted you at the station, peering at you sheepishly.

“I’m sorry to bother, Miss Innis – I received the word late, you see – but my commander would like to have a word with you in his office. Please follow me,” he says.

If you had no reason to worry a while back, you have now.

Without causing a fuss, you follow the peacekeeper, who leads you to a closed office door on the station building’s second floor. He knocks twice and opens the door for you when he hears a voice call ‘come in.’

The door reveals a spacious office littered with desks that are currently empty, save the one at the far end occupied by another peacekeeper in his fifties scribbling something on paper and, right before the desk, sitting with his arms crossed and his face unreadable, someone else who isn’t supposed to be there.

“Uncle Cas?...”

He shakes his head once and gives you a look he hasn’t used on you in a long time:

Don’t ask.

You will your heart to stop pounding. This must just be protocol, right? They must’ve gotten a little more strict with district travel these days.

The peacekeeper at the desk, a commander judging by his uniform, smiles at you exasperatedly.

“Ah, there she is, your little runaway. You gave your uncle quite the scare, young lady,” he says, clicking his tongue after. “I found your uncle lurking in his car, saying he’s looking for you.”

“Commander Moss. You’ve met my niece before, I’m glad you found her,” he pretends to send you a disapproving look. You wipe the confused expression off your face. Showing any more could mean trouble.

“Yes, certainly we did. I don’t know who revoked her inter-district travel pass, but whoever did it, did it just in time.”

Oh no.

Commander Moss gets to his feet and announces, “Very well! Now that I’ve got the two of you here, I can now proceed with the real reason you were brought here.��

“Oh?” your uncle merely puts on an air of curiosity, but your instincts are telling you there’s something amiss.

The commander exhales as he paces behind his desk “Acacuis, there is no easy way of putting this, but the truth is, we were told a few hours ago to be on the lookout for both of you.”

Your heart drops to your stomach.

Coriolanus got to them first.

Uncle Cas, however, maintains a curious facade. “Huh. Would you happen to know why?”

Commander Moss grimaces. “I’m afraid not, I’m sorry. And that’s not all,” he pauses as he scratches his temple with a finger, clearly uncomfortable with the information. “Aside from being told of your niece’s inter-district travel privileges being rescinded, I was also ordered to escort the two of you to the Citadel.”

Your Uncle Cas, ever the calm one, shrugs and says, “Alright. I wonder what it could be. In any case, Hubertus, we are at your disposal.” He takes to his feet, and you follow.

“I appreciate your cooperation. Part of our instructions was to keep this...matter as discreet as possible; this makes it a lot easier for all of us. I’ll drive you there myself; please follow me.”

The ride is quiet, and your attempts at getting your uncle’s attention are all but ignored, with him refusing to meet your eyes the entire drive to the Citadel.

As soon as you’re inside the building, you and your uncle are flanked by three peacekeepers each – one of them even confiscates your bag – and escorted to the elevator, dropping you off on a floor you’ve never been in. Before he’s pulled away by his escorts, your uncle tells you with a collected smile, “Everything is going to be okay, Nellie.”

Again with that tone.

They bring you to what seems to be an interrogation cell, dimly lit and empty except for what you suspect is a two-way mirror covered by blinds, and a table at the centre fitted with handcuffs. You don’t struggle when they place the cuffs around your wrists, but you keep asking them questions – where they took your uncle, why they’re keeping you here – all of which go unanswered. With nothing else to do except wait, you stare at the clock above the two-way mirror.

Five fifteen. The train would’ve already left, and along with it, your chance at leaving all this behind.

You were so close.

You rest your forehead on your arm and close your eyes, if only to hinder the incoming headache.

You’re jerked awake at the sound of the door closing and the footsteps that reverberate in the tiny space. As if this day can’t get any worse this early, a voice you had hoped you’d never hear again invades the space.

“Nellie. I came as soon as I could,” Coriolanus Snow flashes you a grin from across the table, with a hand inside his usual crisp, clean pantsuit pocket, the other clutching the leather briefcase he always brings to work.

He looks almost normal, smiling at you warmly like last night didn’t happen. That smile of his just raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, especially after our little rift last night,” he says with a tilt of his head, his eyes unblinking and never leaving yours. “I want you to know that I will do everything I can to help you with this...matter at hand.”

You spare a glance at the clock. Just six twenty-five.

“I’ve been here for almost two hours. What ‘matter’ are we talking about here? What is going on? Where’s my uncle?”

Coriolanus just tuts. “That, and more, is what I came here to discuss. All in good time, sugarplum.”

He takes the seat facing you, takes a folder out of his briefcase and places it on the desk. He pushes it towards you, and motions to it, saying, “Open it and read.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you comply much as your cuffs allow you to and gape openly at the contents of the folder.

A photo of a young Acacius Innis in his early twenties, wearing tattered, dirty overalls and in the middle of lighting a cigarette, is paper clipped at the corner of the first page, and under the usual label ‘Classified,’ his name, family history, and background – some of which you already know, some of which redacted and crossed out completely in black ink.

You blink twice at the section named 'Criminal Background Synopsis.'

Criminal Category: Rebel, Class A

Code Name: The Confectioner

Criminal status: AT LARGE

Known criminal organisations: The Unresistance

The list goes on with names of your uncle’s presumed ‘criminal associates’ for two more pages, most of which are redacted and none that you recognise. The next page is a chart containing the organisation’s member hierarchy, and you check at the bottom for your uncle’s name, only to find it isn’t there. Scanning carefully once more, your eyes land at the very top.

There it is: Acacius E. Innis, President/Leader.

To say you’re shocked is beyond an understatement.

Coriolanus doesn’t bother hiding the mirth in his eyes at your reaction. He begins lightly, “You see, I’ve been acquainting myself with your family history, and I uncovered a lot of interesting facts.”

This can’t be right. Your uncle openly discusses his disdain of the government around you, but a rebel? And a leader of a rebellious front, to boot?

The third page is a scanned photo of the group’s sigil: a raven perched on an olive branch, with the Latin phrase ‘In Tenebris’ in all caps at the bottom.

“It means ‘In the Shadows,’” he explains. “The Unresistance was an elite resistance group made up of smart, highly competent people from all over Panem. As their motto suggests, this group takes the battle behind the scenes instead of the frontlines. They held respectable positions in society: company shareholders, factory owners, teachers, doctors, and many other specialists; some of them still do, to this day. They infiltrated government institutions using their intellect and ability to blend seamlessly within their workplace. They were a network of formidable spies who gathered and traded intelligence for and with other rebellious groups. Intelligence reports say they were smart to disband as soon as the war broke out. They simply vanished, using their positions and money to bury evidence against them.”

Uncle Cas is a spy? He most definitely has the aptitude for it. But if this holds any truth, why hasn’t he been prosecuted, especially with all this evidence?

Coriolanus answers this as if he just read your mind. “In your uncle’s case, he was pardoned by President Ravenstill in exchange for his loyalty and his services to the Capitol. Your uncle was given immunity with the condition that he never engages with anything considered to be subversive to Capitol authority.”

He leans forward with his fingers laced on the desk.

“Your uncle accepted the deal right after your parents died. Do you know what that means, Nellie?” He asks softly.

“He moved to the Capitol for me.”

Acacius Innis gave up on his ideals to raise his dead brother’s daughter all by himself. What if you caused his divorce, too? Are you about to be responsible for his hanging, as well?

“As touching as that may be,” Coriolanus interrupts your train of thought. “The fact remains: your letters to Sejanus were never monitored and were never sent through the official communications channels. This is evidence that your uncle was, or still is, in contact with them, therefore violating the conditions of his pardon.

“Now, imagine if someone gets ahold of this intel. If someone sends word to the president.” He finishes his speech with a smug expression, knowing he has the upper hand.

This makes you wonder: when has he not had the upper hand?

“By ‘someone,’ you mean you,” you scoff. “Did you revoke my inter-district pass, too?”

“It’s the protocol for a person of interest.”

“What is there for you to gain from all of this? You got your stupid program; it’s now official Citadel property. And if this is about the things I said last night, forget it: I’m not taking them back, and I’m not apologising.”

Coriolanus just lets out this sardonic hum, his smirk growing ever wider. “Did your uncle ever tell you about what happened during our meeting at Strabo’s home?”

You narrow your eyes at him as you recall that night. Your uncle had been so mad about it but had refused to disclose anything.

“That business proposal was supposed to bring the Snows, the Innises, and the Plinths great benefit. An arrangement to join our families together by way of marriage...”

He drums his fingers on the table while you digest, with much difficulty, what he just unveiled.

“You and I, Nellie.”

No. No, it can’t be.

“Who’s idea was that?” You ask in a hushed tone. It’s Strabo or Ma. It has to be.

“It was mine.”

Fuck.

“I pitched it to Strabo, and he agreed with it,” he goes on. “Enthusiastically, in fact. He was eager to pitch it to Acacius Innis, but no surprises here: your uncle blatantly refused. He said he’s giving you free rein on your life, and that if you were to get married, he wanted it to be of your own volition. Sweet, but from that day on, I knew he’d get in my way.”

“So this – all of this – it’s not about the program anymore...”

“Finally,” he praises. “It took you a while longer than I thought. Sure, it was my task to secure for the Citadel this vital piece of intellectual property, but...”

What is the end goal of the game? Uncle Cas’s voice echoes in your head.

“My end goal was you.”

Coriolanus bares his teeth in a wicked grin, taking obvious pleasure at the way your breathing evidently shallows. You fight the bile rising to your throat and dig your fingernails into your palms since there’s absolutely nothing else you can do.

“It still is, in fact. So you hurt me a little when you insinuated last night that my feelings weren’t true, but that doesn’t matter. You were angry and I can see why. You wanted to protect your uncle’s work, and you simply lashed out when you couldn’t.”

He reaches from across the table to unfurl your fingers and hold your hands. Not exactly the most romantic thing, what with you in handcuffs and unable to swat his hand away.

“That’s why I came here,” he says. He draws circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as he continues, “I understand your actions and I’m willing to help you. I can fix all of this.”

“Don’t you mean to say you’re going to blackmail me again?”

Coriolanus’s grip on you tightens by a fraction. His initial warmth vanishes as he lets go of your hands and abruptly gets to his feet, his jaw tensing and his shoulders drawn back. With him gripping the edge of the table, he leans into your space.

“Let’s not argue semantics here, sugarplum. You are wearing out my patience,” he hisses. “I tried earning your trust so I could do this the right way: court you, bide my time, and then propose... Remember that you forced my hand in this.”

He flips the folder to its final page and pins it with his forefinger. “This is a report I drafted to formally inform Ravenstill of your uncle’s backslide.”

The leer on his face turns diabolical as he lays down his ultimatum:

“I am willing to destroy this report if you agree to marry me.”

You stare vacantly at the paper, not even bothering to read its contents. “This is your move? To force me to marry you?”

“Again, semantics. This is a big decision you’re about to make, so I will give you twenty-four hours to accept.”

“And if I don’t?”

And yet, as the question spills from your lips, the answer comes flooding in the form of flashes inside your head: your uncle climbing the steep steps of the gallows, a peacekeeper placing a black piece of cloth over his head as he readies the rope –

You’re taken away from the mental image by the sound of blinds lifting. He’s just adjusted the covers to reveal the occupant on the other side of the two-way mirror:

Your Uncle Cas, sitting behind a table identical to yours, handcuffed like you, and looking extremely bored out of his wits.

Coriolanus just sneers at the sight.

“Then, I simply send my report to the president. Now, I doubt Ravenstill would be willing to spend time and fortune investigating the matter just to exonerate a former rebel, so I imagine your uncle will charged at once for conspiracy and treason.” The blinds close, and he circles the table slowly with his hands behind his back while he counts the ways you’ll surely be fucked once that stupid paper gets to the president.

“His assets, and in turn, the entire Innis Tech company, will be seized by the government of Panem, leaving you with next to nothing. The Innis name, forever besmirched and labelled traitors. You will be expelled from the University. No company will hire you, no matter your qualifications.”

He eventually reaches you and bends down to whisper over your ear:

“Everything your parents died for, everything your uncle worked for, will be stripped from you, all because you made the wrong choice.”

He pulls away from you with that self-satisfied smirk you’d give an arm to wipe off his face.

“Don’t look at me like that, sugarplum,” he tuts. “I am simply trying to make you see the consequences should you decline my proposal.”

You stare at him with all the loathing you can muster, but you doubt its efficacy; there isn’t much threat a handcuffed woman almost backed into a corner can do, after all.

“Why are you doing this?” So many things you want to say, and your brain settles for this train of thought. “You can have anyone you want in the Capitol. So why? Why go through these lengths when any other girl would willingly throw themselves at your feet?”

The expression on Coriolanus’s face shifts to something unreadable for a fraction of a second, but his mouth tilts once more into what seems like a pained grin, his eyes turning glossed over and – dare you say – gentle.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” he says softly. “But this I can tell you: nobody else compares, or even comes close.”

He paces the length of the room once more, just across the desk from you.

“I liked our camaraderie. Compared with other people, I felt like I could speak my mind with you to some degree. It’s refreshing, really, and for a time you were open to me in a similar way. I find that fascinating about you. You’re not afraid to speak your mind, and you do it so eloquently. You’re one of the smartest, most intuitive people I have ever met. Who wouldn’t want that for themselves?

“But then, you had to pull away.”

Every ounce of softness he just showed you vanishes, replaced by displeasure, staring you down with a curled lip at what he perceives to be a slight against him.

Is he referring to the kiss at the greenhouse, perhaps?

“That night at the party,” he continues, confirming your thoughts. “You knew and you played along. You had a plan, except it backfired in the end, didn’t it?”

He lets out a short, taunting laugh.

“I hope you learn something from this, at least: snow lands on top. Frankly, if you had the connections and the resources I had, you’d be a worthy adversary.”

Coriolanus strokes your cheek with a finger. You turn your head away just so you can keep from looking into those intense blue eyes, now genuinely fearful of being swallowed whole. Your action does not deter him. He sits on the table inches away from where you’re handcuffed.

“Watching you hold your ground against me...it was exhilarating. I’m almost sorry it has come to an end; I was enjoying myself.”

Then those hands firmly encase the back of your neck and the sides of your face, his face drawing closer until his lips brush over your ear.

“You play the chase so beautifully,” he whispers breathlessly. “You’re beautiful, Prunella Innis. You’re almost perfect, now.”

When he pulls away, he observes your face for a moment, his hands still clasping both sides of your face. You don’t know whether to cry or lash out, so your face freezes with a glare and your body stays rigid, hoping you can convey just how much you despise him without saying anything.

He clicks his tongue but seems mildly amused. “Don’t be like that, sugarplum. You should be thanking me. Remember our little lovers’ tiff a few hours ago? I stand by what I said: I made you who you are. You’re perfect now because of me. Do you think you’d be able to find out just what you’re capable of without me pushing you to your limit? I made you. I own you,” he says as his thumb strokes your lower lip. “My perfect little sugarplum.”

“If you’re that addicted to control,” you muster spitefully, “What good will it do you if you marry me, knowing I could cause you this much trouble?”

He gets off the table, now with a slight spring in his step as he flashes a conceited grin.

“Oh, but you won’t, Nellie. Not anymore, at least. I have the only thing – person, really – you hold of value. That should be enough for me to teach you to toe the line.”

You blink and face the floor to forcefully rid yourself of invasive imagery involving him harming your uncle just so he can get his way. But the grip on your chin makes you gaze into his crazed orbs: nothing but a bottomless blue abyss where he intends for you to fall freely. Once more, you’re subjected to his covetous scrutiny, making you shiver inwardly and wish you had heeded your instincts warning about him from the very beginning.

“Imagine,” he breathes, “One of the most accomplished, most brilliant women in all of Panem, submitting wholly to me? I suppose you’re right: I am addicted to control, and controlling you, forcing you on your knees before me, and only me, is my morphling.”

And then, Coriolanus releases you. He picks up the folder and secures it inside his briefcase. A prized piece of family history, now reduced to mere blackmail material.

“Twenty-four hours. That will be – ” he glances at the clock above him – “Seven AM. Give me a call then, and we’ll talk.”

You really should’ve trusted your guts about him from the get-go.

From his pocket, he takes out a key and uses it to free you from your shackles on the table.

“They shouldn’t have handcuffed you like this,” he says as he pulls your wrist back to inspect it. “I’ll have a word with them. Come, let’s get you home. Judging by your eyes, you had not slept the entire night, either.”

He uses the same wrist he’s gripping to lead you away, but you don’t budge. You can’t leave when your Uncle Cas is still in the other cell.

Coriolanus guesses your concern correctly and assures you, “Your uncle will not be harmed while in custody; you have my word.”

“When can he go home, then? Why should he still stay here?”

“Leverage, sugarplum,” he smirks. “And he can go home once we’ve…settled this matter between us. For now, consider your decision of my proposal at home when you’re well rested.”

“And my bag? They took my bag,” you say. Sejanus’s book is inside that bag.

“They will withhold it until it’s properly searched. They will turn it over to me once it’s cleared. In the meantime, you will stay at home and sleep. You have a decision to make.”

His tone doesn’t leave anything for argument, so with a glance at the blinds, you allow yourself to be dragged from the cell, out of the building and into his car, which leaves once he gives the word to the driver.

You try not to cry the entire ride home as you think of Uncle Cas. Will they feed him? Will they interrogate him? Are they going to give him a bed to sleep on, at least? Sure, you could ask Coriolanus to make sure he gets whatever he needs, but any favours you ask him at this point would come at a hefty price you might not be able to afford.

Once the car pulls up to Corso III, you all but launch yourself out of the car – anything to get away from him as soon as possible – but a firm hand grabs ahold of your arm when the car door opens.

“I will take you there myself. I need to have a word with the peacekeepers,” he says.

Peacekeepers?

Apparently, he had ordered two of them to guard the door to your apartment home, and you wait until he’s done giving them orders before you can get inside. Even in your own home, you no longer have autonomy.

He follows you inside your home as you sink into the sofa, take your shoes off and release a sigh, burrowing your face in your palms. Maybe this isn’t real. Maybe you’re still dreaming, and when you wake up, your uncle will still be here, in the kitchen, making breakfast for the two of you. Maybe when you open your eyes, he won’t be there anymore.

“Have you had breakfast, sugarplum?”

Damn. No such luck.

You feel him touch your shoulder to get your attention, and you flinch away from his touch automatically. He purses his lips in apparent displeasure.

“Please don’t pretend to care," you say. "You already let go of that façade, remember?”

“if you still think this is a farce, wait until that clock strikes seven tomorrow morning. You’ll see then just how real this is for me.”

Wordlessly, you brush past him as you enter the kitchen and yank the fridge door open. As you scan the contents, you can feel his stare boring holes in the back of your head.

“Twenty-four hours, Nellie. I’ll wait for your call.”

With that final air of pompousness, he takes his leave, closing the door behind him with a click.

Feeling utterly depleted, you forgo getting food and go back to the sofa, launching yourself on it with a soft ‘oof.’ Your stomach growls, but how can you eat when you’re unsure whether your uncle would? You’re bone-tired, but you’re not even sure he’d get any rest in that barely furnished cell, either.

On the other hand, if Uncle Cas was here, he’d be berating you right now to take better care of yourself.

Perhaps you could spend the entire morning crying like about it like a child, but what good will that do? Begrudgingly, you grab whatever food you lay your eyes on in the fridge – in this case, a half-eaten bar of chocolate from The Headless Confectioner’s that your uncle resealed, probably to save for later. Once you’re done chewing on it with much effort, you drag your feet to your bed and bury yourself under pillows and blankets. Apparently, a cocktail of mental exhaustion and a restless night make a dreamless sleeping draught almost as strong as Dr Gaul’s concoction, and within minutes, you’re out cold, dead to the world for the next few hours.

You’re cruelly wrenched from blissful unconsciousness by the constant ringing of the doorbell. In an instant, you’re up, glancing at your alarm and scrambling to the door to check who it is. It’s five to three in the afternoon, so maybe it’s your Uncle Cas, and they confiscated his keys so he can’t get in! Perhaps they even let go of him due to lack of evidence and he’s just about ready to get some well-deserved rest.

Thanks to this wishful thinking, you’re extremely disappointed to find more peacekeepers milling on the intercom, insisting on coming in.

“Ms Innis, we have a warrant to search your home in light of recent events,” one of them says.

Is there no end to this day, you wonder?

The moment you unlock the door, the peacekeepers stroll inside and await orders, while one of them, a major no more than in his late twenties, salutes you, and shows you the search warrant.

“My name is Major Truman, Ms Innis,” he says. “My unit and I are assigned to search your home for evidence of subversive activities. We will, as much as we can, try not to disturb the peace inside your home and are instructed to only search areas where Acacius Innis might conduct his business. We are to also seize anything we deem as evidence. Would you kindly point us to the said area?”

Numbly, you nod and lead them to his office, and they privates waste no time sorting through the obvious place to start: the papers stuffed in boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner, where your uncle sometimes stuffs graded essays and test papers, and then forgets about them until he needs them.

There’s no point watching them tear the place apart, so proceed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“It must really be difficult, watching all this,” a voice says.

Your head snaps to see Major Truman, standing in the kitchen doorway stiffly with his arms behind his back.

“Your coffee has been ready for nearly fifteen minutes, in case you’re wondering,” he adds.

Shit. You let out a sigh of frustration as you realise you’ve been staring blankly into space for the said amount of time; probably more.

You press ‘reheat’ and wait. As an afterthought, you offer the major some coffee, which he gratefully accepts. He takes the seat just beside your uncle’s usual place.

“Have you found anything?” you ask, unable to control yourself.

“I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss matters regarding evidence,” he says contritely. After a sip from his cup, he says, “Thank you for being cooperative, by the way. I think it’s unfair, what they’re doing.”

You nod and focus on your cup, unsure how to respond. He’s a peacekeeper, after all – how much can you trust his type?

“You might not believe this,” he goes on, this time, with a much softer tone. “But I used to be his student at the University. I nearly flunked one of his classes because, well…I wasn’t into the field, to be quite honest.”

Major Truman flashes you a kind smile. “I don’t why I told him, but I did. I confessed I was only pressured by my parents to take the course.” He pauses to let out a dry chuckle. “He then asked me right then and there to write an essay about how I would hypothetically convince my parents to let me take a different path. It was weird, but I did. When I finished, he read that rambling thing I wrote, and I was dismissed.

“The next thing I know, the grades were coming in, and he gave me a passing grade.”

Curious now, you flick your gaze at him as he laughs heartily. “He did that?”

“I graduated a few years ago, but that, I’ve never forgotten to this day.”

Major Truman pats your shoulder awkwardly before he steps away, pausing at the doorway to say, “He’s a good man, Ms Innis. I’m sure this will all blow over soon.”

“Do you know If he’s okay? If he’s had anything to eat, or…” your worried voice trails off, as it dawns on you that he might not even be stationed at the Citadel for him to have access to this bit of information.

He nods, saying, “I gave him food a while ago. He recognised me, too. Don’t worry. I have friends there who owe me favours, and I can make sure he’s treated well. It’s the least I could do. Thank you for the coffee.”

With a final salute, he exits the kitchen, presumably to return to your uncle’s office to continue his supervision.

You inwardly thank your luck and the goodness of your uncle’s heart to have someone like Major Truman looking after him in that hellish place. Rebel or not, you agree: your uncle has a good heart.

Far greater than yours or anyone else’s.

That’s why it takes you a moment to compose yourself once you see the chaos that’s now his beloved home office.

His computer, all but taken apart now, had been packed into a box labelled ‘evidence.’ His bookshelf, its shelves sagging with the weight of the books it contained, now empty; documents and notes scattered all over the floor as the men haul his stuff outside. They’re taking items that you won’t otherwise even spare a second glance at.

At least until your eyes land on one of the boxes they’re still halfway through filling.

It’s your little rabbit plush – the one that had inadvertently saved your life when you went back to pick it up.

You hadn’t seen the rabbit plush in years, and you had actively avoided it as a child after it was returned to you just days after the attack. Your uncle seems to have tried his best to restore the plush. Dusty, but otherwise free of the dirt it had been coated with on the day of the explosion, you pick it up at once from the box.

A peacekeeper apparently has qualms about it.

“Miss, put that thing back in the box – otherwise, I’d have to report you for obstruction of justice abd tampering of evidence,” he barks.

Major Truman, however, approaches him with a stern expression. “Stand down, private. It’s just a toy. Unless the Capitol has issued orders saying rabbit plushies are now deemed subversive?”

The private gives him a salute before returning to sorting the papers on the table.

Flashing Major Truman a grateful smile, you exit the office and settle for the couch in the living room in case they finish soon, and they’d have final things to say.

Maybe even decide to storm your room once they’re done with the home office.

At exactly eight in the evening, Major Truman and his unit bid you goodnight, leaving you alone again in the entire apartment. You survey whatever’s left of your uncle’s office: computer parts they deemed unimportant to seize, several stacks of school-related documents, and a few other knick-knacks, all arranged neatly on what was once a table that had very little surface visible. At least they had the decency to clean up. Perhaps an order from the major himself.

Your Uncle Cas’s office, now stripped bare of his soul – it’s a sight enough to send you into a sobbing fit. No longer able to bear seeing the space, you sink into the living room sofa once more. As you mourn the injustice, and the treatment of a good, wise man, you hold the stuffed rabbit close to your heart, hoping it’ll save you again this time around.

You run. Fast.

You run even as branches of the foliage get caught in your dress – the dress Coriolanus Snow made you wear on the night of that party – inwardly glad that it’s finally getting the treatment it deserves: getting torn little by little, hopefully until it’s forever erased from your memory.

You’re barefoot, you notice, but the ground is grassy anyway. You don’t need shoes when there are more pressing matters at hand.

Like that deadly…creature chasing you down as its designated prey.

You sprint as quickly as your muscles allow you to, through the ever-shifting landscape – a few seconds ago, it was a foggy, grassy terrain; now, it seems to have morphed into a series of tall bushes manicured neatly to form a seemingly endless maze. No end in sight, just grey nothingness outside the hedges.

Within the space, a voice you’re too unfortunate to recognise plays as if coming through the intercom. One of Volumnia Gaul’s little on-the-spot poems:

“Oh, me, there goes little Nellie, so pretty and frail; her big bad Snow is hot on her tail!”

The mad cackling that ensues is superseded by a faint voice in the distance.

“Nellie? Nellie! Come back here!”

Coriolanus Snow’s feral shouts float in the vast grey space, but you don’t look back. It isn’t Snow – it can’t be; the footfalls chasing you and seemingly inches away from you don’t sound human. There’s snarling behind you, and the sound of a snapping jaw is heard as your ankle narrowly misses its rabid bite.

The scream for your name this time is much more hysterical.

“Prunella Innis!”

Your frantic dash is interrupted by a succession of tiny pinpricks on your skin. Something live and crawling wraps around your leg, making you fall, with large sharp teeth digging inches deep into your flesh. You let out a pained cry as you fall to the ground, the stinging bringing involuntary tears into your eyes. An overwhelming scent envelops you as your fall is broken by a jagged, uneven surface. Vision clearing by the second, you realise what the forest floor had morphed into.

“I just want to talk to you!”

Another enraged scream from the creature hounding you.

Can it smell blood, you wonder? Because from the punctures on your skin, the red liquid now oozes freely, making you gag at the pungent, metallic smell. You don’t look at it. It’s always somehow easier to bear when you look away.

It had turned into a bed of roses and thorns in mere seconds. The red and white blooms attached to them seem to mock you in your despair. The thorny vine around your ankle grows, extending further into your leg, piercing it with razor-sharp spikes. The sound of soft whooshing from above makes you look up.

It’s a drone older than the ones you’ve tested in the lab. The type that can only carry a single item at a time. It drops a water bottle a few feet away from you, and the bottle breaks when it lands.

The snarling creature seems to have caught up to you.

“I sent that to you.”

The imposing figure of Coriolanus Snow enters your line of vision. He smiles just as disarmingly as usual, his clothes just as you remember: brand-new, finely tailored and flawless in every angle. A stark comparison to your figure crumpled on the floor, unmoving and bleeding profusely.

“I thought you’d be grateful. I wanted to help you,” he says. He tilts his head to get a better look at your foot tangled in the brambles. It had already reached your thigh, tearing through your dress even further.

Yet his face is without an ounce of pity. Nothing but cold in those eyes – biting, ruthless, unyielding.

He bends on one knee to draw closer to your frame. “Don’t worry, sugarplum, you won’t need these anymore,” he says, his tone cloyingly sweet, as he strokes your injured leg. “You have nowhere to run. And you don’t have to run. Not when I have you.”

Movement from above distracts you from his leer. The sky folds back, much like a grey cloth, revealing a stadium full of Capitol residents, clapping and cheering and screaming, all to celebrate your downfall and venerate the cause of it.

Amidst the tumultuous applause, Coriolanus Snow’s victorious, haughty voice reaches you without delay or difficulty, as he looks down on you with those hungry, piercing, rabid eyes.

Like he’s burrowed inside your head and his words are echoing from within you.

“I won you, Nellie. The game is over. Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”

You open your eyes with a sharp intake of breath.

It’s five in the morning and no word yet from your Uncle Cas. No calls, no knocks on the door or rings of the doorbell.

You’re just as alone as the moment you fell asleep. The rabbit plushie lies within your arms, its faded, beady eyes looking at you as if to ask, ‘what now?'

Coffee, that’s what. Coffee will make it better.

As the coffee maker gurgles in the background, you wonder vacantly whether your Aunt Marcelline had gone through this exact situation when she and your uncle had still been married. With him being a rebel, did she also have to deal with hours upon hours of no word from him, waiting almost desperately for any news of the fate that had befallen him? You’re lucky, considering you know where he is – probably the same interrogation cell they’d placed him in yesterday – but your aunt…how many of these days did she have to endure?

Was this the reason why she left him in the end?

The coffee doesn’t help. No surprises there.

Thirty minutes to six.

There’s still time for this trick to end. Hey, maybe you’re still dreaming all of this, or maybe this is some sort of cruel prank your Uncle Cas had designed.

Maybe you entered a parallel universe, and anytime soon, things will right themselves. Your uncle will be in the kitchen, making you both the sugar-heavy breakfast he’s partial to.

One could hope, right?

But as six rolls into the fray, reality finally rears its ugly head.

This is real. Everything is real: your dear old Uncle Cas is still at the Citadel, and it’s only a matter of minutes before he’ll be sent to heaven-knows-where just for protecting you and the letters you had exchanged with Sejanus.

Unless you give in to the demands of Coriolanus Snow.

You allow yourself to spend the hour before your deadline in resigned sobbing – you’re sealing your life away with an obsessive sociopath, it’s the least you deserve – and by six fifty-eight, you pick up the phone receiver and dial his number.

Better you suffer than your uncle dead.

Six fifty-nine.

The other line rings thrice before you hear the click, indicating the receiver has just been picked up.

“Good morning, sugarplum,” that sickeningly sweet voice of Coriolanus Snow greets from the other line. “I was just about to dial the Presidential Palace.”

Curse you and your bloodline, Coriolanus Snow.

“Please let my uncle go; I accept your proposal.”

Author notes:

Enter Level 12

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!

Level 12 won't be out until next week, weekend, I think, because I will be going on a much needed vacay trip for a few days 😊 I'll be active still tho, so thank you guys for sticking around Ily all!! 😘

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #Young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

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pelideswhore · 1 year

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ARIADNE (JENNIFER SAINT) REVIEW

RATING: 5/10

FIND HERE

LIVE-BLOG

NOTE: i found live blogging this book very fun actually! i also wanted to thank you all so much for not spoiling the ending despite the many rants, i’m glad i got to experience that for myself. i did skip some chunks of the phaedra/hippolytus part due to personal triggers so you won’t find much about that in this review. @a-chaotic-dumbass here it is<3

TL;DR: i definitely did like jennifer saint’s actual writing style, though there were some issues with the actual pacing of the story. despite there not being any major inaccuracies, the small things did add up and did annoy me. my biggest issue with this book however are the characters.

SPOILERS UNDERCUT

WRITING (7/10)

I genuinely loved Saint’s style! She is definitely a great writer. There was a perfect balance between simplicity and imagery; some nice quotes but no purple prose and most importantly no dramatic descriptions of feet, which i really enjoyed. I usually don’t enjoy multi-pov that much and it was a bit random getting Phaedra’s POV at times but Saint definitely knows how to give each of her characters a distinct voice, so I actually enjoyed it! I also very much like that she gave Phaedra what seemed to be PPD—it’s always great to get some good representation of such things. Despite what I say about the characters later on, they do all seem to experience some form of character arc which is always a good sign.

The pacing threw me off a little, partially because she tried to fit such a large and versatile myth into one book and partially because of the large chunks of exposition. I honestly skimmed over Theseus’ narration of his previous adventures… I understand that the story has to make sense to non-myth fans, but with her great writing I would have hoped she could’ve found a more elegant way to weave that in. Like I said, the cramming of such a huge myth into a single book resulted in her having to go extremely off-topic to finish story lines. It would’ve been better if done implicitly (e.g. the Icarus myth). Similarly, for about a hundred pages in the book, nothing happened. Different amounts of time passed in each POV chapter which was very confusing, but at the same time there isn’t much you can do about that. I was however disappointed when I got five years of Phaedra’s POV and then a single (bad) exposition chapter from Ariadne in a book that is literally named after her. Honestly, Part 3 was more Phaedra’s book than it was Ariadne’s.

I also wasn’t a huge fan of the 1st person but that’s just a personal nitpick. There were some off lines or some incongruities, but they weren’t too bad overall.

ACCURACY (5/10)

Story-wise, there no big inaccuracies other than the ending, which I absolutely hated, it was just so stupid and unnecessary. In fact, I’m not going to speak about it at all. The way she added the Phaedra and Theseus storyline (though not entirely accurate) was smart and helped story progression, so I’ll consider that a bonus point. The fact that they waited for Phaedra to turn 18 to marry is obviously for modern readers but I can appreciate that nonetheless. I definitely did enjoy the little sprinkles of myths here and there, especially the sentences that are literally just implications (e.g. a King holding up the sky for his people). Looking for those made reading really fun. The fact that she drew parallels made everything so much better. I can also appreciate the fact that she got the timeline correct, only referencing women that came before Ariadne and not after. She does however mention Theseus’ trip to the underworld, conveniently ignoring the fact that this happened long after the Minotaur fiasco (and that Theseus’ ass literally got ripped off). It just serves to make Theseus look bad, but more on that later.

The fact that Phaedra spent most of the book in Athens makes things tricky considering how misogynistic the polish is and none of the power she had there made sense. Reasonably, she wouldn’t be allowed to sit in a single council, let alone share her thoughts and much less conduct entire festivals with women from surrounding cities. Saint tries to point out how unlikely this is and considering it’s a feminist book, things like this are hard to leave out, so there isn’t much she can do. I just don’t like feminist retellings and I still think they don’t work.

I found it a little silly for the characters (who know nothing other than the greek mythology world) to be describing the myths to other characters, as well as Pasiphae translating Asterion’s name to Ariadne. Considering (ancient) Greek is her mother’s tongue, she would’ve probably known the word for star—it would’ve worked so much better if she’d drawn that connection for herself in her personal monologue. Similarly, she mentions a “foetus” at some point, which is a Latin word that came long after any of the described events. Simply saying ‘baby’ (the literal translation) would’ve made so much more sense, but alas.

The Medusa myth is obviously important to the story, especially given the ending (sigh). First of all, this was one of those instances with bad exposition. More importantly though, Saint uses Ovid’s iteration of the Medusa story which is a) misleading and b) also comes years after the events. I honestly love Ovid but using his version of the myth in a book that might very well be read by people that don’t know the original sets the wrong impression. On top of that, the original isn’t feminist at all. It’s anything but. Knowing that as a reader takes away the entire idea Saint was going for. I don’t even know what kind of symbolism Saint was going for by having Ariadne get petrified. All of this just to put Perseus in a bad light, which is unfair considering Perseus is probably the most humble hero there ever was.

This brings me to … Hera. I’m not even going to say much about because a) I don’t have the energy and b) this happens to her in every adaption so I’m not even surprised. You can find different antagonists for your feminist retellings than women, especially divine women, ESPECIALLY women who are victims in their own stories. Phaedra calls Artemis ‘cold and bloodless’ because she’s sworn an oath of chasitity, which … I get that you’re getting rejected but smells like aphobia to me? That just didn’t sit right with me. Life is not meaningless because you don’t love. Additionally, Phaedra goes on about how Artemis might have killed Ariadne for not remaining a virgin. There are a couple of things that annoy me about this such as a) if Artemis has this role in this world, why would Theseus suggest that Artemis killed her?? and b) Artemis was considered responsible for all unanswered female deaths! She doesn’t go around punishing girls that have extramarital sex! It’s simply not that big of a deal.

CHARACTERS (2/10)

Ariadne wasn’t too spectacular or memorable as a main character, but she didn’t really annoy me either. There were some moments where the plot or suspense of the story relied on her being completely stupid which had me screaming at the page. Most of this gets resolved through character developments and was actually set pretty well using foreshadowing e.g. the conversation with Theseus. The foreshadowing is there while also keeping Ariadne’s perspective in mind. Regarding the dancing… I made a huge fuss about it when live-blogging (i still find it funny don’t mind me) but now I actually like it? I was having a brain fart moment at the time and completely forgot her connection to Dionysos. It was really clever to introduce that from the beginning and I honestly wish that she had carried that on. I also wish her necklace would’ve gotten some more mentions, but it just got forgotten. It’s especially important considering Ariadne considered committing suicide with it.

I didn’t like the fact that Ariadne had no revolutionary thoughts whatsoever until Theseus shows up and then as soon as this hot hunk shows up, she’s all for killing her brother. The same brother she didn’t want to get locked up. Although there was some decent character development I did find her last choice to reason with Perseus a bit sudden. All of that just happened very fast.

Minos being a cruel and merciless ass doesn’t sit right with me anyway and the fact that Saint takes away his motivation to be that way (aka. his love and grief over his son) just makes it so much worse, I already said this in an ask, but she just shot herself in the foot with that. It would’ve made for such a great antagonist personality/motivation instead we have All Men Are Bad. She could’ve even made a point of him caring more for his dead son than his alive daughters!

As the number one Theseus hater, I would usually be the last person to defend him, but for some reason this portrayal felt really inauthentic. Personally, I don’t think Theseus was being malicious when leaving Ariadne behind, it’s just a thing he had to do. He’s not an evil mastermind, he’s just some shitty guy. This is all minor because I’m just suggesting a different type of evil, but I don’t know.

As for Dionysos… I honestly don’t know how I feel about him. Ariadne is way too subjective and unreliable for me to be able to make a proper assumption about him so I just won’t.

The only characters I really did enjoy from start to finish were Daedalus, Pasiphae and Deucalion, all of which barely got any screen time. In fact, my only complaint regarding Pasiphae is that I wished she had more screen time. I loved every moment I got to read about her.

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glitchingshot · 1 year

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Incoming rant about overwatch Kiriko LOL

Not to be a downer but I really fucking hate Kiriko 😭 Specifically in the lore cuz in game she’s whatever but god I can’t stand her lore. Not only does her story contradict and ruin the shimadas story/timeline, but overall she feels like such a wattpad oc. Blizzard really couldn’t be creative enough to create an interesting character that’s related to the shimadas without being an exact copy of them. Of course she’s a ninja and can fight exactly like the brothers, obviously she needs a spirit fox that somehow is (lore wise) even stronger than the dragons.

Absolutely hate that overwatch broke their one rule of “No magic” with Kiriko. The dragons have been stated before to be some type to technology, why couldn’t they do the same with her? At least with zenyatta Ow has come out to state that his abilities aren’t canon to the lore, the same could’ve been stated with Kirikos magic healing and teleport but instead THEY’RE ACTUALLY CANON. It would’ve been cooler if her fox was some kind of omnic, like it was built as a robotic pet but got a conscience and acted kinda like bastion. It could’ve been so interesting to see less humanoid robots become omnics. But instead blizzard had to scramble to explain why this random girl would have a powerful fox spirit.

I also can’t stand that sojiros reveal, something we’ve been waiting for since the dragons cinematic, is shown through kirikos dumbass story. You’re meaning to tell me that the majority/only times we’ve seen sojiro AND get lore from him is through kiriko? Not even through his two fucking sons. It would’ve been a thousand times more impactful through a flashback of hanzo or genji but it’s instead by someone that isn’t even a part of the family. Adding on top of that, like I said before, we’ve gotten the most lore of sojiro THROUGH KIRIKO. Him telling her that silly story of protecting the city is the most we’ve gotten from him and it wasn’t even from his sons.

Last thing I’ll mention is how much I dislike how they’ve handled her relationship with the brothers. Sure, it makes sense that genji would try to be her friend but I highly doubt hanzo would care lol. And even if he did it feels like such a stretch that they’d see her as a niece; I mean did her mother really bring her that often to a yakuza castle? I’m more lenient on that tho because it could’ve just been that they saw her as a niece because they saw her mom as kinda a mother figure to them. What really frustrates me is her interactions with the brothers now. Not one voice line with genji about how she’s missed him cuz she though he was DEAD? We don’t even know is she knows he survived hanzos attack, but yea instead of giving them meaningful interactions it’s just silly jokes. Not to mention hanzo, where the only voice line she’s directly mean to him is because he isn’t fighting for Hanamura 💀. I was hoping she’d be rude towards him because of what he did but she barely is. There’s only one voice line related to hanzo hurting genji and it can easily be interpreted as her being playful, it’s only if you squint that it seems passive aggressive. And out of all the things she’s mad at hanzo for it’s for not helping against the Hashimoto? As if that’s his problem lmao. Hanzo has no reason to fight for Hanamura; his only tie there is that he grew up there. And yea that’d make him look like even more of an ass but that place is riddled with awful memories, why would he want to go back? I know he’s nostalgic and has stated to miss hanamura but there’s a reason he’d only go back for genjis yearly prayer lol. It just seems so silly to me that she’d guilt hanzo for not helping her as if it’s his fault/problem. Sure the Hashimoto are a threat and should be dealt with but she doesn’t even know if he has other things to fight for. It’s disappointing because she could’ve been an unbiased opinion between the brothers conflict but they do nothing with her. To add on to that it genuinely feels like she adored/glorifies the shimada clan, which brings its own load of problems 😭

Sorry for the long rant LOL I didn’t want to make it too long but everything about kiriko frustrates me. There’s absolutely nothing I like about her lore even though she had so much potential to be an interesting character. And anytime they release stuff about her it just feels like I’m the only one that doesn’t like her story 😭. It’s fine if you like her personality but it seems like everyone fully enjoys her and I just don’t get why; besides the fact she brings shimada lore. ALSO sorry again if this is so random, I barely post anyway, but ow has been special to me for years and I’ve withstood a ton but Kiriko just crosses the line for me. All the characters have at least one thing you can enjoy from them but Kiriko sure as hell doesn’t for me.

#overwatch #kiriko #hanzo shimada #hanzo #genji #sojiro shimada #rant about Kiriko sorry #I just don’t really like her lore xd #overwatch 2

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alexiusgoesrogue · 3 months

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Status Update: Day Nine

Today was yet another fun day together with Bee. Early(-ish) in the day, I went to get myself some food for the last days of my stay to have something proper for breakfast and, if necessary, dinner. Not too long after that, we headed out for the lunar new year event. Yes, a second one. But it was not as much centred around shows and performances, but rather small shops and goodies to buy revolving around the festivity. In front of the arena was a street performance which we watched. It was very humorous and impressive at the same time. Inside the actual building were many shops. I was at first tempted to get myself something, but nothing really caught my eye enough to really want it *that* much. I suppose becoming an adult really did something to my impulse control, in a good way. We also checked out the food stalls of course. Bee got us tteokbokki and a Korean hotdog, then later on cookies-and-cream ice cream for me and gelato for himself.

With our main event done, we spontaneously decided to go down to a small beach area. It was a nice place to stay and relax at, and to let my feet dangle in the water for a bit. I didn’t know it at that time, but that was where my last Polaroid picture was taken.

Nearby was a small boat restaurant which Bee wanted to eat at with me, so we ordered some fries, small hotdogs, chicken nuggets and drinks (peach ice tea for me and apple cider for Bee).

We returned to our rooms for a brief break before going out to a restaurant which Bee also wanted me to try, Sweet Mother’s Kitchen. They had ordered curly fries, chicken tenders and a coke, while I had a sirloin steak, also with curly fries and two drinks, L&P and a Malonso cocktail.

Compared to our first few days, it was rather ‘uneventful’, but still just as fun to me.

Long story short, it was a very good filled day.

Sponsorships of the day: every single meal mentioned

Food Ranking:

Tteokbokki: 2/5, it has potential to be something I like. Just as of now, I don’t have a very high tolerance for Korean levels of spiciness, and it was overall a bit too chewy for my liking.

Korean hotdog: 3/5, in itself very tasty, but I would’ve preferred a different sausage

Cookies-and-Cream ice cream: 5/5, absolute banger, no notes

Peach iced tea: 4/5, delicious and refreshing, but it could’ve used a bit more flavour to it to be perfect

Mini hotdogs, chicken nuggets, fries: 3/5, average experience, nothing much to write home about. But the sauces were pretty good

Malonso cocktail: 4/5, very interesting taste, alcohol was barely noticeable if at all. But the ice cubes did water the entire drink down very quickly.

Steak, curly fries: 4/5, very tasty and well done (except the steak was medium, haha). But the steak was a bit chewier than expected and harder to cut (perhaps because of the knife I got), and the salad was not my thing (though honestly, when has it ever been my thing?) and the dressing did soak into some of my fries, giving it a bit of a weird taste.

***

Note: I will not be adding any pictures to this post as the internet is really giving me a hard time lately. I’ll reblog this to add the pictures once I’m back home in a couple of days, or during layover at an airport

#new zealand #travel #wellington #lots of food

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backjustforberena · 1 year

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I know you think the Velaryons could’ve pulled off making Baela the heir but tbh it still would’ve been tight/impossible because no matter the reasoning you would have to disinherit the strong boys which would basically add validity to the rumours. Also Idk how plausible it would that the fleet would listen to a woman. It’s likely Vaemond or any other male in the family would’ve been able to gather enough support ( from the fleet itself and others) to usurp control.

I don't know whether I'd call Rhaenys's plan foolproof by any stretch. I think it's probably the best plan in those circumstances and mitigates the negative appearances as much as they possibly could have. Corlys definitely isn't unfounded in his response and his worries about casting a shadow over those boys. But likewise, Rhaenys is measured in her response and I believe that it could be dressed up so that they have a story and they stick to it.

The party line would be: it's for their granddaughters, not against their grandsons. Their grandsons will still be provided for due to their closeness to the throne. It's not against Laenor, it's for Laena. It's not disinheriting the grandsons, it's a transfer of succession from their son, who will one day be King Consort. And if Laenor is shown to be pleased about this (which I'm sure he would have been tbh), then who could possibly comment?

Who would speak up, at the wake for their daughter, and claim that it's House Velaryon publically disinheriting illegitimate grandsons? Who would even mention the illegitimacy possibility, at that time? No one. Who would gain anything by saying it was a political move, rather than an emotional choice in the face of losing a child, as Rhaenys would undoubtedly frame it?

In terms of adding more validity to the rumours... I think those rumours don't need any more validity. It's basically an open secret, as shown later in that episode when it's declared in the Hall of Nine. But Viserys is so incensed against that, it's only made a meal of six years later and when the possibility of Lucerys inheriting becomes close to reality. At the time of this proposed change of succession, Laenor is still alive and due to inherit, and Corlys is as fit as a fiddle.

How plausible is it that the Velaryon fleet would listen to a woman. and moreover, would it cause dissent? That's not really a question we can answer with the information we've been given from the show, at least, not in my opinion. And it's also not entirely clear what the distinction is between the Velaryon fleet, the lordship of Driftmark, and the overall control of the navy is. But either way, I do accept, Baela would inherit a heckload of ships along with Driftmark.

Vaemond is a tricky one. The concerns he shows are more about blood. Baela is undoubtedly Velaryon. He doesn't show any overtly sexist behaviour (I know he's disrespectful to Rhaenys but that's just because he doesn't like her and whilst unkind, he isn't wrong about saying she simply rules in her husband's absence) or any bad feeling toward Baela personally. It's unclear whether he would have issue with her rule.

It's possible that, if it's a declared matter of succession, and the longstanding wish of his brother, and things are manoeuvred in a way that Baela proves herself and receives that training over the years, she could be in a strong position. Women do run/inherit houses in their own right during this time: Lady Rhea was due to inherit Runestone, and there is Lady Jeyne who controls House Arryn at the time. Sure, a play could be made, but that's true of anyone and at any time. And even if Vaemond got some support, I'm sure Baela could command her own support, whether from her own house or from the Crown because in this magical future where the succession is changed and Laenor isn't dead... Rhaenyra would be Queen, probably and would back Baela. Even if Rhaenyra isn't Queen, Viserys would back Baela because that's his brother's daughter.

None of it is ideal, but it could have worked, at the point in time at which Rhaenys suggested it and the way in which Rhaenys wanted it announced. Like we see when Rhaenys faces Viserys and declares against Vaemond's assertions... the Hightowers can do nothing against that. The truth is what you make it.

#rhaenys x corlys #rhaenys targaryen #baela targaryen #house of the dragon

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owl-with-a-pen · 2 years

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how’d you think nia would react to brainy having her as his lock screen on his phone? I’d love to see a story abt this!

Yes absolutely! I hope you enjoy!

For all the tech savviness Brainy boasted by just existing, he lost his phone a lot.

Nia wasn’t all too sure it wasn’t on purpose. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Alex had outright banned Brainy from using his holograms to scare the crap out of her whenever he had an announcement that really could’ve – and should’ve – been a text, Nia was certain that he never would’ve acclimatised.

A lot of time had passed since then of course, and Brainy had made strides in his assimilation to all things twenty-first century. Sure, he still griped and groaned about internet speed and overall signal quality but, with Nia’s guidance, he’d become something of a pro at the cryptic language known only as emoji. He’d even gone as far as adding some rudimentary memes to the equation.

So, y’know, the important stuff.

That didn’t mean Brainy still wasn’t prone to leaving his phone behind from time-to-time, or, well, most of the time, but hey, it was still progress.

Clearly, today was one of those days.

Apartment keys had been snatched straight up from the ceramic bowl, the grocery list no doubt memorised to Brainy’s thought tracks seconds before he’d marched out the door. Phone, though? Well, that was still sat all lonesome on the kitchen counter.

Nia rolled her eyes half-heartedly the moment she saw it, scooping the device into her hand. It wasn’t like he’d be gone long, but she didn’t exactly feel like astral projecting to the dairy aisle just to inform him she’d forgotten to add milk to the list.

She sighed, turning the phone over idly in her hand.

It was almost comical comparing Brainy’s phone to literally anyone else’s. Most people’s phones had endured a few love taps over their lifetime, and Nia’s phone was certainly no outlier to the rule, but Brainy’s? Brainy’s might as well have been fresh out the box for all the use it’d seen. No personalised case to withstand the test of time, or scratched up ports from chargers and headphones. There wasn’t even a single crack in the glass screen. The phone was about as generic as they came and – if Nia had wanted to snoop – she knew that the contents of his phone would have looked no different.

She could almost see it now: Bare-bones apps that came pre-installed with the device, sat in the exact same order they’d been in the day Brainy had first bought it.

Not that Nia cared how Brainy used his phone. He could do with it what he liked.

She just wished he’d bring it out with him more often, so that she didn’t have to—

Nia was thrown from her thoughts when Brainy’s phone buzzed in two short starts against her hand. She glanced down reflexively, only to freeze in place by what she saw.

Because… it was her. Staring right back up at her from Brainy’s phone.

Nia swallowed, a hot rush warming her face as she studied the image in front of her.

It wasn’t a particularly old photo, maybe a couple of months at a push. Brainy was a little camera-shy when it came to picture-taking and nearly always opted to be the photographer whenever they went out as a group. She remembered that photo well, especially how Brainy had grinned so proudly once he’d taken it. At the time, Nia hadn’t thought much of it, it was just one of many photos Brainy had snapped that night.

But, it was the one he’d looked at for the longest, the one that had made him smile the largest and the one that had strayed his focus so far from what he’d been doing that Kara had had to playfully interject.

And now, that photo was saved as Brainy’s lock screen.

Something exhilarated inside her stomach. Nia smiled, biting her lip. She took it all back, Brainy was using his phone perfectly.

“Is it anyone important?”

Nia’s head shot up so fast, she nearly made herself dizzy. She hadn’t even heard the door open, let alone see Brainy stride back into the apartment, groceries in tow. He was halfway through unpacking them by the time he’d opted to speak up, a quietly amused expression lingering on his face.

Nia cleared her throat, blinking quickly as she clicked off the phone. “Huh? Oh, no – no you’re good. Just a notification.” She glanced over to him, eyebrow half-raised. “You know you can turn those off, right?”

In answer, Brainy raised his hand towards the phone in a perfunctory gesture. Nia inhaled when she felt the phone buzz again in her palm.

“Done,” Brainy said dismissively, turning back towards his groceries, although Nia could see the air of cockiness in his smile.

Nia smirked. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of seeing Brainy use his powers like that.

When Brainy was nearly finished with the groceries, Nia idled her way towards the breakfast bar, making a show of sliding the phone across the counter with her index finger. “So… uh, I saw your lock screen.” She raised her chin, offering him an approving wink. “Good choice.”

The bravado in Brainy’s expression quickly faded into a sheepish smile. He took the phone, slipping it back into his pocket. “Ah. I’m- I’m glad.”

“I am curious, though,” Nia continued, leaning forward on the counter. “Why the sudden change?”

Brainy’s expression grew unexpectedly pensive as he considered Nia’s question, twisting his ring thoughtfully around his finger. Finally, he straightened up, making his way over to Nia’s side of the breakfast bar, taking a seat at her side.

“Do you recall the conversation we had last week?” Brainy asked slowly, glancing up at her as though to gauge her reaction. “About the photograph you picked for your lock screen?”

“Oh.” It was Nia’s turn to sober. “Yeah.” A thickness caught in her throat at that particular memory. She made an effort to swallow it down. “The one I found of me and my mom.”

Brainy’s eyes were as gentle as his voice. “You told me then that seeing her a button push away brought you great emotional comfort, and that… that is what many people use their lock screens for. To keep the people they love close.”

Nia’s stomach clenched. “Brainy…”

“I have no photos of my parents,” Brainy admitted, “and even if I did… they are not who I wish to carry with me.” His expression softened. “You are the person I love most, Nia Nal, and-and I thought it only right that—”

Before Brainy could say a word more, Nia leant forward, pecking him quickly on the lips. She found her boyfriend’s hand, half clenched across the counter, and laced her fingers with his, squeezing tightly.

The moment their lips parted, Nia grinned. “You’re adorable.”

Brainy’s eyes clouded with endearing befuddlement at the compliment. Still, he lowered his head in earnest. “Thank you.”

Nia snorted, resting her head against his shoulder, feeling that exhilarating warmth thrill inside her all over again.

Of all the progress Brainy had made with twenty-first century tech, this was definitely her favourite.

#supergirl #brainia #nia nal #brainiac 5 #supergirl fanfiction #my asks #my writing #anon #i really like the idea that brainy treats his phone as an inconvenience a lot of the time and thus this story was born 😂#i hope you enjoy!

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writing-by-stormy · 9 months

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Using Other Creative Mediums to Improve your Writing

(Obligatory do not plagiarize disclaimer!! Inspiration is good, copying is just lazy)

Recently I’ve been trying to improve my writing, primarily my descriptions of things like setting and body language, and a lot of writing cheat sheets and advice just wasn’t cutting it. It wasn’t bad—and actually gave me a place to start—but I felt like something was missing. However while practicing I was hit with an idea and it actually helped me quite a lot so I hope someone finds some use it in too :]

Here’s some ideas I came up with, however this is by no means an exhaustive list and honestly it’s up to you to decide what is and isn’t helpful for you, as everyone thinks and creates differently.

1. Photography/Art

This is the one I started off with. I’m a very visual person and was really struggling with setting a tone when it came to the descriptions of my settings. I could technically paint the picture but not well, and it would really slow down the story rather than adding to it as intended. This is where artwork and photography came in, I realized that (at least from how I approach it) the ways an artist conveys mood, tone, and meaning wasn’t all that different than how I was trying to. They were creating a literal visual representation of an image they saw, and I was trying to get others to imagine what I was imagining. So I compiled a collection of photos and artwork that really resonated with me and started studying exactly why. Here’s some things I did that I found useful:

Compiling images based off subject and/or setting (I.e. forests, the ocean, desert, etc.) and comparing and contrasting them. If all your images are of a river, then what common themes do they share? What’s different? What’s the difference between a tranquil river and a harsh, dangerous one (outside of just the obvious). How do different things in the environment contribute to or take away from the focus that you’ve placed on the river? Do any of them have a different mood? Create a different atmosphere? Are there any you like more and why?

Compiling images based off mood/themes. This one really helped me notice the subtle details that contributed to tone such as how vast or crowded a scene is, where the photographer/artist chooses to emphasize, etc. when it comes to this you could compare and contrast too, or if you want something more challenging you could try listing what every detail contributes to the overall image, as well as what (if anything) could’ve been left out without changing much.

pretending you had the power to change their appearance. say you’re working with a picture of a lake, what would change if you wanted to add an island in it? Would the island be the new focus or not? How much detail could you add before it became over saturated? How much could you remove before it became uninteresting? If the picture was taken during the day, how would the way you describe/imagine it change during the night?

Writing down the context you get from the image, as well as trying to imagine your own. Say you’re working with the image of a gorgeous meadow, and in the background are some awe inspiring mountains. Can you tell based off the image whether it’s remote or not? If it is, what about the setting changes? Is it harder to reach? Are the trails and roads overgrown, barely visible, or so old and rocky cars can’t pass over them? How far would you say civilization is? What would bring someone there? What might happen if there was a sudden influx of people in the area, would it be overrun with tourism? Would they establish a settlement and if so what resources would they have? Is the remoteness part of what makes it beautiful—like a nice vacation from society—or does it create a feeling of isolation?

2. TV Shows/Movies/Animation

There’s a few more options for this category considering it in and of itself is a form of creative writing. Honestly there’s endless inspiration to be found in your favorite shows and movies, so in turn there’s endless opportunities for learning from them. Here’s just a few I came up with

Writing dialogue. Does your character have to small talk their way out of an awkward situation but you’re struggling to convey the discomfort? Do you want to write an inspiring monologue but aren’t sure how to go about it? Want to give characters a distinct voice and speech patterns but can’t think up your own? Luckily there’s nearly endless scenes to use as a reference for your dialogue difficulties!

Learning about body language/character quirks/behavior. This is what I like most about shows and movies, because every single thing about how a character acts is unique to them. You can read all the lists you want but its different when you get to watch how it actually looks on a person.

Watch something you don’t like and make a list of reasons why you don’t like it as well as what you’d change about it if you were one of the people writing/producing it. Anything from the delivery of lines to the way the camera is angled could provide insight into what elements of a story you value the most.

Getting to see character traits in the flesh. This is especially helpful for certain characteristics that a lot of writers tend to get wrong, such as charisma, being humorous, manipulative, etc. It can be helpful to study these traits and read up about them on your own, especially if that’s how you absorb your information, but a persons personality affects the way they move through the world and interact with others, and sometimes it can help to witness this for yourself.

Chose a detail to change, and brainstorm the ways it would change the story. If the heroes mother never dies, would he have the motivation to leave the house? If the protagonist didn’t have their sidekick(s), would they come out on top as often as they do? If they weren’t bound by their love for their childhood sweetheart, how much sooner would they have left to pursue their dreams? What if the main trio grew up in the city rather than a small town, would their struggles be different?

Other/Miscellaneous:

also known as the ideas that don’t fit into the other categories, fit into more than one, or that I struggled to come up with enough ideas to make them categories of their own.

You can compare and contrast the ways stories have been adapted across different mediums. Things such as the anime adaptation of your favorite manga, the live action version of an animated movie, etc.

Compare and contrast different interpretations of the same trope or story (Ex: different Mentor characters or different adaptations of Beauty and the Beast)

Listen to a fiction/anthology/storytelling podcast and pay attention to the ways they establish a scene solely through audio and dialogue

Watch a live performance and pay attention to the use of props, costumes, and actions to tell a story

Play a video game and think about how you’d go about describing it, as well as how context changes the way you’d go about that. How would you describe Minecraft as your setting? If your main character wasn’t from that blocky world what would they focus on the most? Alternatively, if they were from Minecraft how would you go about describing things that would seem odd to us but not to them? Would the graphics and mechanics of the game reflect over into that reality too?

Happy writing, I hope there was something of value to be gained from this and that you have a lovely day/night <3

#writers and poets #writing #writerscommunity #writing inspo #writing ideas #writing tips #storytelling

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shakapuffin · 1 year

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youtube

Alert episode 4 promo!

Alert 1x03 “Zoey” Review

my thoughts on the lastest episode, episode 3 “Zoey”

- i liked it as much as, if not a bit more, than the first two episodes… still some obvious questions and hiccups. idk why but this episode seemed a bit more structured… maybe it was because C wasn’t there lol!

- i still want to find out more about Keith, like i know they’re gonna drag his whole storyline out but how do we still not know anything about where he’s been the past 6 years?! or better yet how does no one else question him harder on where he was. i get that jason tried to talk to him in the beginning but i want to see a full on convo, not just a few minutes. i want to see more scenes with the whole family together, interacting. idk that’s probably just me tho.

- i totally understand why Sydney wanted a lock on her door, but I didn’t understand why Nikki thought it was weird. I’m happy Jason wanted her to have one if she felt safer, but it made no sense for Nikki to say no since it’s her daughter and she hasn’t seen her supposed brother in six years. it still confuses me why they haven’t taken Keith to a hospital or a therapist to get checked out, especially because they’re law enforcement officers and they deal with missing persons and it’s consequences every day. Also, I get that they want Keith to be back in school to get back o normal but I’m still not sure how long has it been since he’s been found. If it’s been a couple of weeks or even a month or two, then I understand but if it’s only been a week or two, I don’t know why they want him to rush into school that quickly. It’s just crazy to me that the parents are already back at work and I assume Keith is left home alone? I also really liked the use of Beowulf in the underlined narrative of that story between Sydney and Keith. it added another interesting layer.

- I’m sorry but the whole scene between Nikki and Mike doing a quickie in the supply closet was just so weird to me. Like why was there a need to put that into the episode, like I get that it’ll add characterization for Nikki and Mike and it’s a good way for them to reconnect, but not at work in the middle of a missing persons case where the girl could very well either be dead, or about to die. No law-enforcement officials would ever ever do that on a workday. It doesn’t matter if Nikki is the head of the missing persons unit, Zoey’s parents put their trust in her and even if there was a few extra minutes they could’ve been doing other things to progress the case besides that. Also, they only had 10 minutes! Really really odd writing choice. save that for the end or beginning of the episode when there’s no life or death situation.

- okay so I’m really confused on Kemi. She literally offered to rub eggs on Zoe’s parents to catch all the vibes/feelings? I’m still confused what happened like I just don’t understand. I saw her purpose on the team a little bit more in this episode, she’s really good at breaking down pictures and finding where they are located. I just don’t understand some of her references, like who is she? haha! Apparently she’s been married 12 times? Sometimes some of the things she says are just so out of pocket it’s insane and it doesn’t relate to the case whatsoever.

- I thought the structure was better this episode with a few blips but overall a bit of an improvement from the first two. That being said, I thought this weeks missing persons case was very dark, creepy and low-key disturbing. I get it stuff like this can happen, but it was pretty surprising for that subject matter to be on a network television show. Overall, I think the case made sense in terms of storytelling maybe a few improvements on the shallow dialogue at the end and throughout, but that’s it.

- now that i know the parents had keith’s baby hair in the baby book, they should’ve had a DNA test right when he got home. i get that they don’t want keith to think they don’t trust him but they just have to do it, especially when they’re daughter is repeatedly telling them she doesn’t feel safe. they are law enforcement, they know the importance of a DNA test. it’s weird that they’re avoiding it.

- I thought Scott Caan was really good this week, per usual, i liked his literal leap into action to tackle the creepy guy away from Zoey. dania ramirez was good too, i like her catchphrase of ‘finding our babies’ but i hope nikki doesn’t overuse it because it can become old very fast. i liked adeola role, her character continues to confuse me but she’s great, as well as ryan broussard!

anyways that’s just my opinion for the week! i’m excited for the next episode, the promo looks good! still happy that scott’s back on the screen! what did you guys think? let me know, i luv talking!!

#Youtube #hawaii five 0 #scott caan #danny williams #scotty caan #danno williams #alert #fox tv #alert on fox #dania ramirez #film

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danacastrosophmore · 30 days

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Art Portfolio Part 1

1) Sketches and Movie Notes

The type of art works made by these different artists encompasses what most would wish to accomplish. They found a way that would merge different 3D shapes and other figures with things such as painting or other mediums. Some of the pieces these artists created would have themes or create statements such as repetition to emphasize something, layering to helped add depth, or certain figures that would symbolize a certain message. There were others that didn’t necessarily seem to have messages but would flow beautifully and had a great amount of complexity.

The pieces were often intricately arranged and placed to create a composition that would display a certain message. What is so beautiful about this type of style is that artist could use almost anything to demonstrate some type of expression. Whether it was with more geometric shapes that were simple or other complex forms that were just interesting to look at. They would use natural objects such as wood or sticks and man-made or manufactured objects and combine them and arranged them in a certain way that created art. The layering of different forms, the shapes or figures they used, and the colors selected could all work together to harmoniously bring the composition together to help convey either a message or to simply just look good.

These artists made energetic artworks that made you want to look at them and observe/explore them from every angle. I believe that the amount of attention to detail and the dedication to figure out a selection of certain shapes or materials made the pieces much more meaningful. They were able to use this type of expression to project whatever message they wanted to, it could’ve been very direct and obvious or more abstract and open to interpretation. That’s the beauty in art, you can choose what story you want to tell — if you even want to tell a story or you can simply just make a piece that’s great.

2) Assemblage Process Photos

(Changed colors to all black)

3) Assemblage - Finished side by side

4) ant 5) Process of soap and final

Piece Title: The motion of Purity

This was the first time I had ever tried experimenting carving soap. I first practiced using the knife on an apple and a potato. Then I practiced on a soap from Walmart which was softer and easier to carve. Afterwards, I made 2 separate designs on harder soap bought from Ross. The first design I made was simple, it consisted of 3 holes and a few curves. This first one helped me figure out the different texture of the soap and served as practice for how I could make my final piece. The second one I made took more time. I first chose the different holes I wanted to make and then slowly started making them into ovals and circles. I then added 2 additional entrances and rounded out areas around the circles I had made to create a different shape that worked cohesively. Once I was happy with the overall shape I began to carefully carve always the sharp edges so that everything was rounded and felt smooth. The smoothing process was tedious but satisfying to do. For my base, I chose to use a block of wood that was not too tall or short. I kept it the normal wood color because I believe it looked better and more natural all together. Overall I truly enjoyed this process, the carving was soothing and although it took a lot of patience it was fun. I believe I created and interesting sculpture that is enjoyable to look at.

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httpsfmpyear2 · 1 year

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EVALUATION

Media and techniques

For my project, I created a 2.5D open world exploration game. I learned how to make a 2D character animation blueprint so that I could have them animate in different ways depending on the circumstances. For example, I could make my character go from an idle animation to a running animation depending on the character's velocity. I’ve never created a state machine before, even for a 3D project, so doing something like this was completely new to me, and I’m glad I’ve learned a more effective way of changing the sprites animation depending on the state they’re in. I was only able to learn this by using YouTube videos, but I was able to figure things out further by testing out different issues by myself. On top of that, I was able to learn how to make an inventory system to allow the player’s to carry objects. This was a must have as I needed some way to link my initial idea stated in my project proposal of creating a quest system to my game, and having an inventory system was a must for the system so that the player could have a way of seeing all of the things they have picked up, and check if they had enough of it. Again, I had to use YouTube videos for this because a proper inventory system is a complicated process that I couldn’t do without some help.

Purpose / theme / concept

I did need to alter the main genre of the game from sandbox to open-world. Even though I did add in a sandbox element right at the end, I still wanted to change it to open world to make the genre more what I intended it to be rather than something that I didn’t mean it to be. I also had to add in the part about it being modern mediaeval. I solved most of my problems in my project by going through any failed pieces of code, and adding in print strings so that I could see which part of it was failing. After finding out which parts of the code were failing, I would check to see if it was just a simple spelling mistake, or if I forgot to add in the execute node. I didn’t have to make too many changes other than that to make sure my project fits with my proposal. The main drive of the game was for it to be an open world game in the first place, so simply changing the genre in my project proposal seemed to be the only needed change.

Outcome

I don’t think I quite met my expectations for this project. I think my project started off well and strong, but then it started to fall off a little. I think I definitely could’ve added a lot more to make the player’s experience a lot more enjoyable. Compared to my previous project, I think this is a big improvement. I learned things I didn’t think I would be able to do, and I also made my first fully open world game, but I don’t think this turned out as good as it could’ve been. I think that the game could use a lot more quests, and maybe even a multiplayer option so that you can at least have fun with your friends. I feel like there should be a crafting option too so that you could possibly make improvements to your items. On top of that, there should’ve probably been some sort of special effects you could get from consuming certain items. However, it did meet the briefing I set out, so in terms of that, it was an okay outcome for what I set out to do. Should I have done more though, yes. Yes I should’ve.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I think I would give this an overall score of okay. I do like a lot of the things I had made for the game, in terms of the code and what the player is able to do, but I would definitely want to add a lot more things into this to make the experience a lot better. As mentioned before, I’d like to add in a lot more features. I feel like there really isn’t too much to do, and it doesn’t have much replay value. For games, replay value is essential otherwise you won’t be able to have player’s come back and enjoy the experience. My game feels more like a one time only game and then you don’t touch it again. If I were to make this again, I would like to add some story to it. I feel like if I had another project after this one, I would stick to story driven games. I feel like that is my favourite thing to make, and I think I do a better job in that genre than all the others. I think I could’ve added a few more pieces of research for my project, but I think I have enough for it to be classed somewhere after the minimum. I think adding in a few more side-quests would’ve at least extended the duration of play time, but for a base minimum product, it’s okay.

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fmp2mt · 1 year

Photo

Finalized-

Main Character

Sven:

This is the completed conceptualisation stages of the projects main character.

Overall, I am happy with how the sketches, planning and the final piece of him have came out. I like how the linework has depth through my techniques and I like how I implemented the colours without them looking grungy and disgusting.

However, to improve, I could’ve kept my consistency up, what is majorly apparent in in the first sketches, where his face structure melds between multiple different looks, this was helped through an extra reference sheet, and due to this, I will use it in other characters conceptual sketches.

I am pleased with this outcome, and will later update them into a slide format with more overview.

The protagonist of this project, Sven is a kindhearted and optimistic soul whose life is throw into question as journeys to discover the truth of his creation. He is a organic body enclosed in a synthetic shell, with no knowledge of his past, this allows him a unique avenue for abilities compared to his completely robotosised or fully organic companions or foes. His quest will have him discover what it means to be himself, rather than living up to others beliefs or stories of him, with him unknowingly falling into this trap, not being due to others, but because of his own ideas of what he could end up being.

His key qualities are:

Kindness- he’s open to others and is not one to be unececerrly rude to those undeserving,

Egotistical- while kind, he still has a very high view of himself, he doesn't belittle overs often however in his strive

Confused / lost- The discovery of his organics has left him stranded and fearful, enhanced by his ego and not wanting to be a freak

Determined- he is headstrong in his desires and won't stop at anything to achieve them, some would see this as stupidity

Versatile- Sven is able to quickly adapt to a situation when needed, able to make plans on the go and use things to his advantage

Douche- he can be seen as a bit of a prick by others due to how he thrases things

These qualities have changed from his original conceptualization, making him a more flawed and interesting character to look into and explore, a necessity for interesting storytelling. A character can be kind and still be a bit of a douche, I added these more negative aspects like giving them an ego due to me hating fully pure characters who have no flaws or problems and are shown as the second coming. These kinds of characters instantly put me off any kind of media that I than, “this new enemy is stronger than the previous.”

That is also why I made the setting a cybernetic landscape, as it allows multiple solutions to problems, what not only is a good idea to have in game says it gives the player more relevance and motive to explore, it also explains how someone weaker, such as yourself, could be able to beat these far larger enemies, be that physically or metaphorically. This not only makes victorys more rewarding but far more interesting as it’s not about pure strength and is more relied on by skills and tactics.

In his story, David will meet people going on parallel narratives to his own, showing different ideas and conclusions to his own story, as if hinting to his own possible end. Some of these characters I have imagined is a father who is wishing the revive his son who passed, only to get him back empty and hollow of experience, an individual who has fully replaced their body times over and starts to fear about if they are still truly alive and a man who has already come to terms that he is not his original, that he is a copy and does not need to be held up top his past. I wish to add more aspects of his character that can be explored in these quests of discovering himself.

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ripruffles · 2 years

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Postmortem for asteroids

What’s one thing you’d change about how you developed the prototype?: As mentioned in my platformer postmortem, I would’ve liked to have a prototype that matches my elevator pitch before in class playtesting. This is because I feel like I would’ve been able to ask more questions relating to my mechanics and overall theme – art, plot, characters etc. I might have gotten some more interesting feedback to change up my game a bit. I think something else I would work on is allowing myself more time to think of unique play mechanics. Between other assessments and the checkpoints for this blog, I find it hard to think and incorporate mechanics into my prototype that would make it unique. In my prototype I have basic mechanics which are expected of this type of game and nothing that unique that draws players in. Just relying on the look and story to get people to play my game isn’t a good idea, as players won’t have a good experience. So, one thing I changed would be to think of something super unique to add in mechanics wise. For example, I could’ve tried to add more powerups that allow for different weapons, picking up a powerup plays a video to distract enemies, maybe negative powerups that blur the screen with zombie blood? Smaller things like this would allow for my game to be more unique and appealing. If I was ever going to continue with this project, I would iterate these ideas and add them in.

What’s one thing you’d change about the design of the prototype?: I don’t have too much I would change for my prototype as I put a lot of thought into it. However, I think the one thing I would change about the design of my second prototype, is adding more of a scene to it through adding in my original background ideas. Currently, my backgrounds are just black, and this doesn’t really set a big scene. This boring type of background isn’t very engaging to the player and makes the prototype look unfinished. I would also like to change the way players interact to move the character. I think using the arrow keys with space to shoot would be more effective than using and pressing the mouse.

#postmortem

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zzizzigom · 3 years

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Fun | Bucky x Fem!Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Fem!Reader (2nd person p.o.v but no Y/N use) Genre/Warning(s): no warnings, minor fluff Length: 1.8k words Summary: in which you've joined Sam and Bucky on their mission and have ended up at Sharon's home in Madripoor. AO3 Link

A/N: I haven't written something in AGES, and this isn't anything particularly special but it's something I was able to finish and that's a relief for me right now. If you read it, I hope it brings at least a little joy to your day:)

Apologies for any typos I may have missed while editing.

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You stood at the bar, drink in hand, as you people watched. The overall vibe of Sharon’s house-turned-club was jovial. You’d caught glimpses of Sharon speaking to buyers, tablet in hand. You didn’t know how she got any type of business done in this environment but, looking at the state of the mansion and the fact she has it all to herself, it seemed to be working just fine for her.

From the corner of your eye you caught sight of a figure sauntering towards you. Your gaze dragged to the man and watched with barely hidden contempt as he smirked. As soon as he came within earshot you met his gaze. “Turn around. You don’t want me.”

His eyes went blank and the smirk fell off his face. His voice was monotone and heavy as he repeated, “I don’t want you.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked back the way he came. You watched for a moment, only turning away when he shook his head clearing away the compulsion. Lifting your champagne flute to your lips, you catch sight of Zemo circling the dance floor. Surprisingly, he’s bobbing his head to the music and you almost laugh. You figured Zemo would’ve preferred a classical piece or maybe some type of orchestral villain theme song.

Your eyes linger for a moment, the usual suspicion settling on your shoulders but when he continues to just bob to the beat you figure it’s fine. Next to you, someone plops down on the empty stool and you turn readying the command to leave you alone. It dies on your tongue when you catch sight of Sam.

“You watching Zemo, too?”

“Yeah. But unless his killer dance moves are actually murderous, I think we’ll be fine.”

Sam snorts and takes the drink the bartender hands him. “Anything from Sharon yet?”

“Nope. She’s still doing her rounds.” You sigh and then move in for another sip only to find your glass empty. Setting it down on the bar top, you turn away from it. If you’re expected to be going straight to Nagel’s hideout after this you don’t want to have too much.

“I saw you turn that guy away,” Sam commented.

“Okay.” Years ago someone pointing out you using your abilities would’ve brought you shame and guilt. But now it no longer bothered you…too much.

“If Zemo can seemingly have fun for a little bit, so can you.”

You scoff and cut him a glance. “Sam, that man looked ready to spike my drink the first chance he got.”

“Okay, maybe not with him, but you can loosen up a little bit. You’re over here looking ready to slit a throat.”

Grinning, you shake your head. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m having fun. In fact, this is my leave because I was in the middle of telling a story to some criminals.”

Laughter bubbles out of your mouth, “Don’t get too friendly.” Sam nudges your arm with his elbow and steps away. You see him join a group and you can’t hear what he says to them but you do hear some of their laughter over the music.

Rolling your neck to loosen some of the tension, you turn to the bar again. Screw it. One more won’t hurt. You catch the bartender’s eye from where he stands and point to your glass. He nods and starts to pour another one. Once your new drink is in hand you decide that while you may not need to have “fun” you don’t need to stand in the same spot the whole night.

You take your time moving through the crowd, careful to keep dancing people from bumping into your drink. The top Sharon lent you is a smooth ivory colored silk and the last thing you want to do is return it damp.

Finding the art displays, you move through the lit up cases. The music is still loud, but in the tucked away corner it’s not as deafening. A few other people lingered at paintings and artifacts but none paid you any mind. You pause at a painting you vaguely recognize but you don’t know enough about the art world to name the piece or the artist.

It’s a beautiful painting, the way the soft colors mesh together brings a small calm to you. You feel the presence of someone standing behind you, and with it brings the new swooping feeling in your chest, but before you can do anything a familiar voice speaks, “This one is worth $10 million.”

You give a low whistle and take a sip of your drink. You don’t think you’ve ever had that much money in your life. Looking over your shoulder, you find Bucky looking at the painting with his hands in his pockets. His shoulders are a little stiff and his jaw is tense. His brow is mildly puckered and though his eyes come back to look at the painting, they dart off as if still surveying the room. You imagine this is how you looked to Sam standing at the bar. Lips quirking you nod at him. “Modern day night life not doing it for you?”

Bucky only gives a soft grunt.

You continue, “What? Bucky Barnes didn’t get down back in his day? You said you liked 40's music, right? I could make the DJ switch it up for you.”

The looks he shoots you is exasperated and mildly annoyed. You can’t help but add. “Believe it or not but I can do a mean swing step. You wouldn’t be alone out there.”

“You’re being annoying.” Despite his words you catch the faint smile and mirth in his eyes.

“Ah, ah! I saw a smile!” When Bucky only continues to stare you give him a shrug. “I’m taking the brooding silence as confirmation.”

You start to move on to the next painting, expecting him to turn the other way but instead he moves with you. You didn’t want to dwell on it (a.k.a get your hopes up about it), but you noticed him doing that more and more. As you take in the old looking necklace in front of you, you catch sight of Zemo through the glass case. He’s now in the middle of the dance floor…dancing…

You laugh a little and give a shake your head. Bucky seems to follow your gaze and you hear another grunt from him.

“I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing him dance.”

“You know, if Zemo can have fun, so can you.” You use Sam’s earlier words to you. Hopefully that doesn’t make you a hypocrite.

Bucky is quiet and you don’t think too much about it, starting to get used to it. Moving on from the necklace, you take in another painting. This one is not your favorite, the harsh lines and odd colors bring a mildly confused frown to your face. Your head tilts as you continue to study the piece. Behind you, Bucky says, “I am having fun.”

Without looking at him you reply, “Are you?”

“Yes.” This finally pulls your attention and you turn to meet his eyes. “I think you’re fun.”

Bucky takes his hands out of his pockets and starts to fidget with the cuff links on his borrowed jacket. You can't quite tell if he's telling the truth, or just saying that to make sure you don't feel awkward. However, you know enough about Bucky to know that if he didn’t want to be talking to you he would’ve left, or he wouldn’t even have spoken to you in the first place so he must be telling the truth. At your silence, he drops his hands and clears his throat.

“Are you having fun?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you think about it. Bucky’s face gives nothing away as he waits your answer. Part of you wants to open up your senses and let your powers read his emotions but you stop yourself. Instead you think about the past few days and the situation you’re in. When you practically forced yourself onto the airplane with Bucky and Sam, you figured it would only be for one mission, something to get the sudden need for danger and adventure out of your system.

You never imagined it would’ve brought you to breaking out a criminal from prison and then ending up at a former colleague’s illegal art dealership, and you couldn’t imagine where it’d lead you from here. And yet despite the ups and downs this adventure has brought to your little group…

“I suppose I am having fun,” you finally reply. You can’t stop from adding, “It’s been…fun learning more about you and Sam. We’ve all fought together before, but I never really took the time to get to know either of you. It’s been nice, all things considered.”

There’s quiet between the two of you. The song has shifted into a new melody, this one just as pounding as the last but it doesn’t seem as if either of you are paying attention to it. You give a soft laugh and down the rest of your champagne. “Sorry. That was more than you asked for.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bucky responds. He steps a bit closer. “I agree. I kept my circle to Steve and, against my will, Sam—“ he pauses when you give a quick laugh “—Even during the whole Accords stuff, I didn’t really interact with the team and then I went off to Wakanda. It’s nice to have another person to talk to.”

Movement behind Bucky catches your attention and your eyes are pulled from his soft expression. Behind him, Sam approaches looking around at all the art pieces. “Figure I’d check in on the dark and brooding duo.”

“You just checked on me,” you shot back.

“Well, I’m checking on you again. I lost sight of Sharon.”

“She’ll find us when she’s ready,” Bucky replied. He heaved a sigh and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

You nod your agreement but before you can say anything Zemo’s voice carries through the room as he steps up next to you. “Well, I will admit this has been quite entertaining but I’m ready to get a move on.”

“We were just talking about that.” Sam turned to the necklace you’d been looking at earlier. “As nice as all this art stuff is I’m getting antsy.”

Everyone falls into silence and through your senses you can feel that everyone agrees. You think about telling everyone to split up and find Sharon to ask if she’s found anything but soon she steps around a display case.

“Hey, guys, I got something. Let’s go.”

Zemo steps around you and him and Sam follow after her immediately. Setting your glass down on a nearby table you turn and find Bucky waiting for you. “Ready for this?”

Giving a sure nod you move past him and after a moment you can sense him take up the rear.

#bucky barnes x reader #avenger!reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier

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