#(DO beware some possible trigger warnings!)

[per1w1nkl3]

i picked up a book (presumed to be written by oscar wilde) about two gay men expecting it to be saucy but nothing too out there by today standards i start reading it iTS STRAIGHT UP PORN .

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is Twisted From Prof. Ratigan

Characters: Ruggie Bucchi, Jade Leech, Deuce Spade, and Rook Hunt Inspired By: Me watching a clip of him looking overjoyed A/N: This took me almost three days to write, it was hard, but worth it! Hope you guys enjoy this! You should totally watch The Great Mouse Detective, it is a true hidden gem in Disney films! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of crime, plans of harming another, bribery. Also, a hair bit (not even that descriptive) of seduction topics being in Rook's ⚠️

Bits of Information on TWST Ratigan! Reader

A 3rd Year student at Night Raven College hailing from the intelligent, yet feared Octavinelle dorm. Reigning from a family centered around underground crime, they are widely known for their incredible intelligence yet-steamy nature. Beware calling them a rat- they may just throw you into the hands of their right and left-hands, Manasseh Omnia and Felix Cattus.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ruggie Bucchi ═══════════════════════════╝

🍩 As a member of a very high-ranking family, you always surrounded yourself among powerful figures. Ranging from royalty to even those involved in what your family was against, the law

🍩 Once you joined Night Raven, you were surrounded by many new characters. Both stupid and intelligent, but you had to admit, those from stupid dorms (Savanaclaw), were intelligent in their own ways. Like their unofficial Vice-Housewarden

🍩 Ruggie Bucchi was an interesting character in your opinion. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he wasn't the most dull either. You don't think anybody could be more dull then Manasseh Omina (Fidget)

🍩 One day, you were in need of some assistance with luring a couple beastmen into your scheme. They were far to hesitant with your plans in getting an upper-hand on your rival at Royal Sword Academy, so you had come to the hyena-beastman and asked for a little assistance in the matter

"What's in it for me?" He had asked, an eyebrow cocked down while the other was up, matching his interested tone.

"I shall give you whatever you want. You want food, you've got it. Money is also negotiable with any amount. My family does work in some notable places." You said. The snap of your fingers alerting Manasseh to bring out a list of things for the beastman to chose from.

"Hmm~ What can I go against here? Alrighty, Sir/Madame L/N, I can help ya' out for this all. What kind of info do you need exactly?"

🍩 After that day, you would come to him for information on any of your men inside of his dorm, and he happily accepted pretty much every offer you gave him. From helping with his home payments to giving him and his grandmother anything you need, nothing was off the table for you to give him

🍩 This exchange was one that allowed you two to grow close, and allowing him to see why your men feared you so much. He really got the point when a beastman that he knew fairly well, but didn't exactly like, was getting upset with you and called you a rat

🍩 Instead of keeping calm like the rest of your fellow Octavinelle students, you lunged at him, grabbed his collar and dragged him to look into your eyes, making Ruggie stare in both shock and fear at what you were possibly going to do to the ill-fated male

"Do you wish to repeat yourself, Zachery?" You asked him, your obviously angry gaze burning holes into his skull as you waited an answer.

"N-no, Sir/Madame! I meant to call you an intelligent leader- yes that's what I meant to say!"

"It better have been." You replied, your temper cooling quickly as you let go quickly, leaving claw-made holes in his uniform's collar as you snapped up and announced a celebratory party being held at one of your family's many homes at the ending of your school year.

"Also, Ruggie, may I speak to you in my office, please?"

🍩 The man practically sprinted to follow you into your room's small office. And despite the limited space, you made your organization work excellently with it. And when you closed the door and hung your cape a top hat on the nearby coat hanger, he noticed a slight shift in your mood. It wasn't bad, thankfully for him

"Ruggie, we have been working together for many months, perhaps a year and four months if I remember correctly. But, throughout that time I have come to feel a growing connection with you. One incomparable to any other I've had throughout my life. At the start of our bond, you were a mere piece of the machine I call my work, but now you are a heavy-hitting ally of mine, one that I value far beyond my others. What I am attempting to word is that- well, I would really enjoy it if you and I stepped up our bond from a close-knitted friendship to a possibly romantic one."

🍩 Ruggie couldn't image what you were saying was real. You wanted a relationship with him?! And not just a friendship, but a romantic relationship?

"What do you say, Ruggie?"

"Yes."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jade Leech ════════════════════════════╝

🍄 As a fellow Octavinelle student, Jade knew you far better than most students at the College. And since Azul liked your, let's just say, connections when it came to business, you grew to have a close relationship with the trio

🍄 Jade loves to mess around with Manasseh. He's just like a fish out of water, but instead of a fish, he's a bat-beastman, and instead of out of water, he's out of, air I guess?

🍄 Anyways, because of his job being the right-hand to Azul, he was normally the one to hand over some special documents that the octopus-mer needed you to look over just in case there could be a plot hole in the papers

🍄 One day, Jade had come by with maybe 10 contracts in a file, while it was quite the hard fit to carry, he was doing it relatively easily. And when he passed your two helpers, Manasseh and Felix, he just gave them his calm smile and went into your office

🍄 You had given him, and only him, allowance into your office without knocking. While if any of your other subordinates did this, you would give them to Felix as a 'little treat for being such a good helper'

🍄 Jade closed the door behind him and noticed you were writing down some information on a random student at the school. And while he normally could keep his curiosity to himself, he couldn't help but voice a question to you

"If you do not mind me asking, Sir/Madame Y/N. Who is this and what are you planning on doing with them?~" A teasing tone was evident in his voice, but you just stayed stoic and answered him without an issue.

"This little mouse was caught being a double-agent for that wretched detective at Royal Sword Academy. I cannot have any kind of holes being punctured in my blimp of operations, now can I?"

🍄 The eel smirked and nodded, agreeing. If he was in your similar footsteps he would've done the same. Though, who's to stay he hasn't done the same already?

🍄 Jade laid the papers down and asked if he could look at a photograph of the man. To which you nodded and handed him a small Polaroid of him and went back to writing down some more plans on his background. From ransacking your office one time to even stealing from you. To which these were all fabricated, but who's to say he hasn't done it without your awareness?~

"How devilishly unexpected. I have seen this one around Mostro Lounge so much more often now. What a coincidence." Jade chuckled before continuing. "You know if you wanted some help with catching this, mouse, I would be willing to do so under the right payment."

"What is it you want in return?"

"Oh nothing to extravagant, my family is quite high up on the food-chain as well. Perhaps a few extra trips of allowance from the Headmaster for me to go for some hikes to retrieve more mushrooms. Yes, that would suffice quite well."

🍄 Cocking an eyebrow and smirking sneakily back, you began laughing. Jade looked at you calmly as you reached out and grabbed his hand, bringing it into yours and interlocking your fingers tightly. You were thankfully strong enough to endure a good bit of this guy's strength

"I just love how twisted your little mind is, Jade."

"What can I say, love? I can't help it~"

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Deuce Spade ═══════════════════════════╝

♠️ Deuce has heard your surname, L/N, many times before he began his stay at Night Raven College. Back when he was a younger teenager and a member of a gang of delinquents, your family was one of their biggest connections. Meaning, your family was how most of them stayed out of the news and out of jail

♠️ When he heard your name get brought up by Yuu when he came back from a meeting with you. Deuce just froze as he remembered you being mentioned many times by his old friends for getting them out of trouble

"Deuce? Are you alright?" Jack asked, looking at the blue-haired male with a questioning look.

"Uh... y-yeah! I'm perfectly fine. Why?"

"You just zoned out when that Octavinelle person was mentioned by Yuu." Epel answered.

♠️ Deuce sighed and bunched his hands into fists before letting them go. He then looked at his friends and began his small story, explaining what your family, specifically you and your father, had done for his old delinquent gang

♠️ They were shocked to hear just how close he seemingly knew you. While it certainly wasn't person, you did have the connection through slight illegal activity

"Oh, talking bad about our boss, huh, first years?" A scratchy voice echoed.

♠️ Looking up from their friends, everybody could see a scary trio, a bat-beastman, a cat-beastman, and a fairly tall lizard-beastman, walking up to them, holding either a stern and cold expression or a teasing and scary one. Much like the eels from your same dorm

"Why, I never expected such a betrayal from a close friend of Sir/Madame Y/N's. How saddening, Yuu. For shame."

"Shut it, Felix."

♠️ Grabbing Manasseh's shirt collar, Deuce glared down at the bat-man, making him quiver in fear. He knew how wimpy he really was, he did grow up with him in the same gang

"Butt out or I'll make sure the next time L/N sees you, it'll be with more than a couple bruises on your face."

♠️ Practically throwing him down, the defeated man stood up and dusted himself off, the sound of his peg-leg hitting the ground making the only sound against the heavy breathing of Deuce and himself

"No wonder Y/N admired you so much, Spade."

♠️ You... admired him?

"Felix, Wylie, let's go."

♠️ Deuce looked back at the group as they stared with wide eyes, you may have a deeper connection than they first thought...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Rook Hunt ═════════════════════════════╝

🏹 Rook admired you from afar ever since your first years at Night Raven. And while you were annoyed to the point that you kept Felix around you at all times, over time, you warmed up to his gaze. Maybe it was your 'slight' arrogance or your love of being admired, who knows?

🏹 This hunter began to pop out of nowhere as you would make plans on finding some members and getting the information you needed out of them. Not caring who you needed to manipulate or bribe into assisting you

🏹 But with him? He could care less about some material things and he was so admiring of you that using manipulation tactics would just waste your time and patience

🏹 As he spoke about how amazingly gorgeous you were while giving a pep-talk to your close men, he was interrupted as a nearby mouse, who was most likely illegally drinking. Classic Mewl then called your dearest Rook a 'rat', making you go stiff and make your eye twitch in hidden anger

🏹 Everyone else went silent and Rook watched as you walked up to the man and put a hand on his shoulder, slightly shaking it and patting his other with the opposite hand as you chuckled darkly, making all hearing it shiver in fear. Well, everyone other than Rook

"Oh Mewly, I'm afraid that you have gone and upset me... you know what happens when someone upsets me, don't you?" You asked, pulling out a small hand-bell and make it ring loudly in the ears of all there.

🏹 Felix then stood up, his burly muscles being more obvious as he took off his jacket and began to stock his way towards Mewl. The poor guy just watched drunkly as he was dragged away by Felix and down the hallways of Octavinelle, probably outside of the school for a 'punishment' for offending your beloved

"Are you alright, Rook? I understand how some idiot's words could end up taking a mental toll on someone." You asked, cupping one of his cheek's and making him look into your eyes.

"Oh no, I'm far from upset, chérie. Rather, I'm quite... active from your previous attitude. The way you handled him was quite admirable. La façon dont tu le regardais avec une colère si contrôlée était magnifique~" He said.

🏹 Your eyebrow went up as your eyes went halfway, a smirk appearing as you grabbed his hat and yours, swapping them quickly before booping his nose and kissing it before announcing that the celebration would now continue without the presence of Mewl

🏹 Rook just watched with half-lidded, matching your previous ones, and sighed lovingly. You really were one-of-a-kind, weren't you?

(Chérie ; Dear / La façon dont tu le regardais avec une colère si contrôlée était magnifique ; The way you looked at him with such controlled anger was beautiful )

[gremlin-girly]

Grem's 20 Characters with 20 Questions for 20 Tropes Challenge

In celebration of 250+ followers (thank you all very much!!), I wanted to do a type of writing challenge. So here is the 20 characters with 20 Questions for 20 tropes Challenge!!

You can really tell this is my first time making something like this - why the hell did i pick such a long title lmao??? I do love a bit of silly fun tbh so here we are

I should also point out that regular postings (like the Green Collection, Sun, sea and sirens AND whatever long fic wins this poll will still be posted regularly!)

How to play:

You have to be 18+ to play :)

Tag me @gremlin-girly and use the tag #grem's 20 questions so I can read, reblog and tag fics onto the masterlist! If I miss a fic, please remind me either by tag in the comments or dm!!

Pick a character (or characters) from the list below, a question and a trope.

You can pick any number of questions and tropes but there must be at least one of each. (E.g. no character + Q2 ; it would need to be character + Q2 + Trope 4 OR however many tropes/questions you wish to use)

Either send in a submission (✨️) or send me a request (🍑) with your question(s) and trope(s). E.g. Caracter(s) + Q__ + Trope ___

The fic(s) you enter/request can be fluff, smut, angst - whatever you want! (As long as they are tagged accordingly and if you want to know what I will NOT include/write you can find them in my blog rules here)

Make sure you tag your work accordingly (trigger warnings, content warnings etc.)

There is no word count limit but any work over 250 words needs a wee "read more" section

I am being silly and saying you can request/submit an unlimited amount (but beware!!! I will be reading/writing these so they may take time to get through them)

Submissions will be open from the 14th of February to the 30th of June 💕

Your work will be added to the Grem's 20Qs Masterlist and shared accordingly 😉

Happy writing! I'm looking forward to see what comes out of this 💕 if you have any questions please message me and thank you all again 🥰

Navigation | 20qs for 20 tropes Masterlist

The 20 Characters

Chris Evans Characters

Ari Levinson

Lloyd Hansen

Jake Jensen

Curtis Everett

Ransom Drysdale

Steve Rogers

Johnny Storm

Andy Barber

Frank Adler

James Mace

Pete Brenner

Sebastian Stan Characters

Bucky Barnes

Nick Fowler

Chris (Destoyer)

Lance Tucker

Sheriff Lee Bodecker

Blaine (Hot Tub Time Machine)

Mickey Henry

Other Characters

Loki

Baron Helmut Zemo (Daniel Brühl)

The 20 Questions

1. "Do you think sharks get sad about their representation in the media?"

2. "Do you ever shut the fuck up?"

3. "How much have you had to drink?"

4. "Why do you insist on wearing that?"

5. "Why do all of my problems lead back to you?"

6. "When were you going to tell me about this?"

7. "Will you stay as far away from as humanly possible please?"

8. "Welp... looks like this is it. How do you wanna do this?"

9. "Please tell me you remembered to turn off the oven?"

10. "Sweetheart? Sweetheart?"

11. "What time do you call this? "

12. "Do you taste as pretty as you look?"

13. "What are we going to tell the others?"

14. "Are you trying to die?!"

15. "What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck is that?"

16. "How the hell did you get up there?"

17. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

18. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

19. "I love you. You know that right?"

20. "What have you done to me? I used to be scary and now I'm all gooey inside."

20 Tropes

1. Only One Bed

2. Soulmate AU

3. Enemies to lovers

4. Cowboy AU

5. Grumpy x Sunshine

6. Dad/Brother's/a relation's Best Friend

7. Mutual Pining

8. Meetcute

9. Supernatural AU

10. Fake dating

11. Arranged marriage

12. Amnesia

13. Second chance

14. Forced proximity

15. Opposites Attract

16. A/B/O

17. Mafia AU

18. Time Travel

19. Sex Pollen / Fuck or die

20. 5 + 1 things

No pressure tags for some moots who may enjoy ☺️

@steviebbboi @stargazingfangirl18 @mrs-elsie-barnes @brunchable @late-to-the-party-81 @brandycranby @bigtreefest @vunblr @mercurial-chuckles @stellar-solar-flare @ronearoundblindly @misscherry-26 @buck-star @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

[synstoria]

Imperial Grace FAQ

When will the game be out?

Hopefully, early 2025, we will communicate an official date when we have more visibility. At the moment (16/08/2024) the full script is written, but we are still missing some key arts (all the CG, 5 sprites, and some MC customization), and a portion of the script still needs to be properly edited and translated.

I want to smooch the Master of Murmurs 🙏

Thanks to our generous backers, the MM will get a proper romance DLC after the game release, so you just have to be patient <3

I want to smooch another character 🙏

Unfortunately, it’s not possible; we do not have the time and resources, but that’s why fanfic and fanart exist, and they are always welcomed. 😉 (You can see more about our fan content policy.)

Is there any DLC plan for the game?

On top of the MM romance DLC, we plan on doing a marriage DLC (with a standalone storyline for each love interest) and a short prequel telling the story of Mellissandre of Terinfel. Both have been funded on Kickstarter, but I have no dates to give you yet.

How much the game will cost?

The final price is not completely set yet, but it will be somewhere between 20€ and 30€. 💸 After careful thought, I also decided I will do proper regional pricing. 🎉 I was dubious because I know a lot of people are abusing the system with VPN but I don't want to punish the people who actually benefit from it. 💖

On which platform will the game be available?

The game will be available on Steam, GOG, and Itchi.io; at the moment, we are working hard to make it completely Steamdeck compatible! At the moment, a switch port is not possible but not excluded; if the game does well enough, we might be able to get a special partnership for this.

A mobile port is not on the pipe either, as it would require a full UI overhaul and regular updates to comply with stores, and our economic model is not appropriate for the mobile market.

In which language will the game be available?

The game will be available in French and English on release day. At the moment, we do not have the budget to translate the full game into another language but we are looking for solutions to allow the most people possible to enjoy the game.

Where can I follow you?

The most reliable platform for news is Discord as I am very active on it. We also have a mailing list (with exclusive gifts upon joining!) and a twitter account.

What is the game rating?

The game doesn’t have official ratings (that cost money), but considering the mature themes in it, I would say 17+. Imperial Grace includes verbal (but not visual) descriptions of violence and consensual sex.

The game, especially through the petitions, also alludes to topics that may be sensitive, such as arranged marriage or suicide. The list of full trigger warnings is available on steam (beware spoilers). It might be subject to change depending on the petitions we include or not in the final game, I want to make sure that every sensitive topic is treated with care and really brings something to the story or denounces a social problem close to our hearts.

Sexy time, you say? 👀

The game features plenty of hot kisses and two optional sex scenes; they can be stopped (in game choices) and not happen at all or censored (fade to black). The text is explicit (anatomical parts are mentioned; it’s not all metaphor, but there is no vulgar words either.), and some suggestive but not pornographic images illustrate them. In other words, even the uncensored version of the sexy time will be safe enough to be streamed on Twitch but more steamy than what we usually find in otome games!

Is the MC customizable?

MC physical appearance is customizable to some extent: you can choose her skin color, her hairstyle, her eye colors (heterochromia possible!), and minor details like moles. The skin color options are not just recolors; the features are actually slightly different to reflect different ethnicities and bring more variety.

All customisation will be reflected in CG, except hairstyle (you can learn the difference between hairstyle and hair type on this post.)

What do you mean by “meaningful choices”?

Imperial Grace has over 200 choices during the main storyline; contrary to traditional Japanese otome game where there is usually a “good” and “bad” option for each choice leading to the best/good/bad ending, we have a more Dragon Age-like approach where most of the options are valid just entails different consequences to shape a more custom epilogue with tons of little variation to reflect your decision as Empress. (And there is instant game overs when you take very very bad decision :p)

You have more questions? Our ask box is always open! <3

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

foolish, foolish love

Summary: During a quiet reading afternoon, you keep getting distracted. And Rolan won't pay any attention to you

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff, also some sexual tension (beware of the sexy snarky wizard), definitely not betad and with some possible grammar mistakes

A/N: I just wanted to touch the wizard's hair... why can't i touch the wizard's hair???😭

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession @adequate-superstar @sapphiccloud (if you don't want to be tagged, or if you want to be added, let me know <3)

\_/

It's a calm afternoon. After the days fueled with anxiety and rush of the past weeks, you had almost forgotten what quiet and peace looked like.

Cal and Lia are running the Sundries today, so you and Rolan are left alone in the tower. Laying on the couch with a book in your hands, your head rests on Rolan's thighs. The wizard is also reading, quietly turning page after page.

As your gaze silently rests on his relaxed features, you realise he's never looked more at ease. More peaceful. A hint of a smile, so spontaneous and soft, runs across his face as his eyes dart along the inked lines of the book, so sucked in by whatever notion that he seems completely untouchable by anything or anyone else.

“Is the book not to your liking?”

“No, I love it.” Your eyes go back to the page, reading just a few more lines before they move back to the tiefling’s face, who’s still focused on his reading. “Why do you ask?”

“I've just noticed you keep getting distracted.”

You smirk, closing your book and putting it on the ground. You ignore Rolan’s frowning glance that follows your movement. “It's not my fault you're much better-looking than some words on paper.”

Your hand moves until your fingertips meet his face. They slowly run along his skin, brushing against his cheekbone and caressing his jaw before sliding along his neck. His muscles tense at the feelings triggered by your touch, his breath shaking in his throat as he slowly swallows, but his eyes stay fixed on his book, an amused smile pulling on his lips.

“You should learn to resort to something other than flattery, my dear. It's quite foolish, really.”

“I know you love it, don't try to hide it.”

He doesn’t confirm nor deny your statement. His empty hand finds your wandering one, intertwining your fingers together as he takes it to his lips and leaves a lingering kiss on the back of it. His touch brushes softly on your skin, like it so often does on your own lips. A breath itches in your lungs, stuck on the tip of your tongue, while you’re staring intently at the way Rolan’s mouth curls just before pulling away and letting go of your hand to turn the page of his book.

Your fingers, instead of retreating back to your lap as his hand does, keep roaming on his features. You hear him sigh whenever they graze teasingly his lips, a mix of annoyance and frustration that makes you grin.

“Getting distracted, love?” you ask as your hands finally move through his hair, brushing soothingly against his scalp before running through his brown strands. “You haven’t turned a page for a while now.”

His fingers quickly move to the book and a paper sound soon follows. “Not at all. I was just stuck on a quite obscure passage.”

Your eyes dart to the cover. “In Volo’s Guide to Monsters?”

He ignores the question but the darker shade of red tinting his cheekbones doesn’t escape your gaze. As a warm smile pulls your lips upwards, you keep playing with his hair, absent-mindedly twirling the soft locks around your fingers. The longer you do, the stronger the desire to just drown your hands in it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down.”

He hums, his index tapping on the book. “Not many people have.”

With a sigh, you sit back up and turn towards Rolan. One moment, he’s reading the volume in his hands, still ignoring you. The following one, he’s staring at a blank space with frowning eyebrows. He slowly turns towards you, carefully bookmarking the page before closing the book.

“I was reading that.”

“I noticed.”

His eyebrow jolts up as you set it aside on the couch, just out of his reach. “Can you give it back?”

“I don’t think so.”

He opens his mouth to retort but his words fall short when, in a smooth movement, you point your knees on either side of his legs. His lips hang agape long enough for you to sneak your hands around his neck and for your fingers to wrap around his hair, satin under your rough fingertips and palm.

One of your hands roams blindly that smooth sea until it finds the wooden clip holding his hair in place. Tapping it gently, you turn your gaze to Rolan. His wide eyes are finally focused on you, giving you all of his attention at last.

“May I?”

After the longest second of silence, he nods, a quiet sigh leaving his lips as you pull the clip away. His hair easily slides out of it, falling out of its usual style and framing his face.

You keep running your hands through the brown strands, pushing them back and ever so slightly pulling them at the roots. Rolan closes his eyes under your maneuvers, looking almost unfazed if it weren't for the way his hands are gripping your thighs, tightening their hold with every stroke through his hair.

“Still want your book, love?”

Your whisper brushes his sensitive ear and a shiver runs down his spine. He opens his eyes into yours, his pupils so dilated his golden irises almost disappear in the blackness of his sclera.

“I might be dense when it comes to some things, my dear,” he utters – his fingers digging into your flesh – “but I'm not a complete fool on these matters.”

After the initial surprise, you chuckle softly as your hands slide back to his cheeks. You cup his face and turn it upward ever so slightly. His muscles make no objection, following your ministrations like a devotee on his knees. Ready to do whatever it would take to please his deity.

Lowering your head, you feel Rolan moving towards you until the distance between you disappears. Your lips hook onto his, addicted to their fresh, minty taste that always seems to surround him. You pull his face closer to you, drowning in that scent as his hands move to the small of your back, fistful of your shirt in his hands. The cold air hits your suddenly exposed skin, but there’s so much heat running through your body that you barely notice as your hands grab at Rolan’s hair after he gently nibbles your lower lip.

As you do, a soft gasp leaves his mouth and his siege of your lips ends. You pull away from his face, just enough to rest your forehead against his. Your nose nudges against his as you smile softly.

“Then show me,” you whisper against his mouth.

His eyebrows crease under your touch but a soft, breathless chuckle leaves his lips. “Show you what?”

Your finger slides along his features: cheekbone, jaw until it stops under his chin. You can feel him swallow under your touch.

“That you’re no fool, love.”

[mikachacha]

GAWA KA ONE SHOT LOSE MY BREATH TITLE

LOVE FIRST SIGHT Yung scene

LOSE MY BREATH (BADA LEE X IDOL!READER)

Synopsis: She didn't believe in love at first sight, let alone falling in love with the same gender then she met you.

Warnings: I don't think there's any??? If you're triggered by gl then beware i guess???

A/N: @loudcyclesuit ok na tayo beh? 😭🫶

Bada never really believed in love at first sight, more importantly falling in love with the same sex. Yeah she does have some masculine quality yet she identifies herself as straight. She thought she'd live like that for the rest of her life until she met you.

She could swear that she stopped breathing, her heart pounding so fast inside her ribcage like it wanted to get out and her mind going haywire as she watched you practice in an empty room in the studio. She didn't know what attracted her to you. Was it your face? Your body? How cute you looked in those baggy sweatpants and the oversized shirt you're wearing or the way you're singing along to the song like no one can hear you. Whatever the reason is, Bada is sure that she just experienced what they call love at first sight.

"Uhh.. Can I join?" Bada awkwardly asked when you were done. She couldn't help but admire how adorable you looked when your eyes widened after realizing that Bada has been watching you do some crazy things and the way your cheeks turned red from embarrassment made Bada wanted to just pick you up and bring you home.

"Sure???" you replied, you could swear that you're gonna pass away from embarrassment right now. You idolize Bada, and have begged your superiors before but it was to no avail. And now Bada has asked you if she could dance with you? Yeah, you can die happy right after this encounter.

Bada thought before that you're this cutesy idol with a matching cute dance style but she's pleasantly surprised to find out that you could actually do more sensual styles as you both danced to Hwasa's Chili. Bada couldn't help but be confused with her own feelings. She knows she's straight but whenever she looks at you, she can't help but feel attracted to you. It's like a magnet pulling her closer, or you're some kind of drug that she can't seem to get enough of.

After that first encounter, Bada couldn't stop thinking about you. From joining you in your little practices, you joining her classes, going out for coffee together and texting each other until late into the night. Yup, she's falling so hard for you at an alarming rate. She tried to stop herself, she tried to rationalize things in her head but whenever she sees your little texts, or your smile, all those thoughts go right out the window and she finds herself craving more and more of you.

"Can we meet right after your event?" Bada called you one day asking to meet up after you told her you're having a fan meet event. Your company thought it was a good idea to hold some fan meets since you're going to release a new album soon and to bury the issue of you being linked to an actor. You wanted to clear the issue yourself so badly, tell them that you're not dating the actor because you're not into men, no thank you. May they stay as far away from you as possible because the only one that you want is a certain tall dancer who asked you to meet her after your event.

"Yeah sure. Everything okay?" you asked, now concerned. Usually Bada would ask to hang out maybe two days after your events but this time it seemed really urgent and she hasn't been acting herself ever since the issue broke out. You didn't want to assume things but a glimmer of hope sparked in your chest that maybe, just maybe, Bada likes you despite her saying that she's straight. Maybe you manifested your delulu dreams to become true.

"I just need to talk with you about something, really. But don't worry, everything is okay! Good luck with your fan meet, sorry that I couldn't attend. I got some work to do. But I'll definitely see you later." Bada says and you can't help but smile. She's really sweet and supportive towards you, not that you mind. You absolutely love it, it makes you feel special receiving such attention from Bada.

"See you later, Bada." you said and hung up. Your day went on as planned, you met fans and spent time with them but your mind kept wandering to the thing Bada wanted to talk about. What could it be? Hopefully it's not something way too serious.

Meanwhile, Bada is freaking out. She has thought about it again and again and again. She came to accept that fact that first, she's not as straight as she thought she was and second, she's madly in love with you. Though she was content with whatever kind of thing is going on between you and her, the issue with you being linked to an actor made her anxious. Were you just being friendly with her? Did those sweet messages and conversations mean nothing? Those loving looks and lingering touches, were those just her imagination? She felt like she was going insane so she asked to meet up with you after your event.

It seems like time has stopped, everything and everyone else didn't matter when you walked in the café, wearing plain clothes and the cap she gave to you. It always feels like her heart would skip a beat whenever she sees you. That smile of yours would be the end of her.

"Hi! I didn't make you wait too long, did I?" you asked as you sat across from Bada. Your smile widened when you saw that she already ordered your favorite drink and pastry. She really knows what you like and it made you feel all giddy inside.

"No, not at all. You good? You're not too tired aren't you?" Bada asks and you shake your head, smiling at her.

"Me? Too tired? Honey, I always have reserved energy for you." you playfully winked at her and you could see a blush on her cheeks that she tried so hard to hide.

"You and your sweet words.. By the way, how's the issue with the actor? Are you guys really together?" Bada asked and you almost choked on your drink. You playfully glared at her and pouts a bit. Though Bada just wanted to confirm before she confessed her feelings to you. At least it'll hurt less if you say you can't reciprocate your feelings when you're single rather than being rejected because you're dating someone.

"What? No! Dear goodness, no. I'd rather dress as a teletubby than date him or a guy." you blurted out and Bada lets out a sigh of relief before reaching out to hold your hand and looking at you with sincerity. You could feel your heart beating fast. Is this it? Will your daydreams become reality?

"Good.. Because Y/N, I really like you. I know I said I'm straight but I can't help what I feel when I'm around you. As cheesy as it sounds, I could swear I fell in love with you the first time I saw you dancing in that empty practice room in the studio." Bada confessed and you just sat there, shocked and not saying anything at first as the information is sinking in your brain.

"Bada.. About time you confessed! I swear to everything that's holy, I would've tricked you into dating me. I don't know if I should wear a giant banner on my head to notice that I like girls??? And I like you a lot??? Oh my god.." your words just made Bada laugh and she got up from her seat to pull you in for a hug, happy that you feel the same way as her.

"I have lots of questions but I'll ask them later. For now, I just want to hug you and love you.." Bada murmurs against your shoulder. Both your hearts are happy knowing that it's not just a delulu dream but it's now both your reality.

[balek-nosleep]

No real reason for it im just thinking about it as my computer can't run Minecraft anymore.

If the batfam started a minecraft server here their roles/what they like to do on the game and some warnings.

Tim: He the mad scientist of the group ,he like to experiment with tnt, redstone and want to collection every item and block of the game. He also may or may not have develop a massive trading town were he sequestrate a massive amount of villagers(he may have triggered memories of the plague when he did that) that he protect with his own military made of golems.

Dick:Explorer/miner, he like to go around the world to farm more rare items,like totems and diamonds. And he die kind of a lot in dumbways, but he got real good reflexes and never miss a mlg.

Both of them are the sugar daddies of the server ,need anything?ask them but beware ,everything has its price.

Barbara: She is the farmer of the team,she don't want to stress herself when she play because her life is stressful enough and so she the one who played the less . She like to just farm foods and grops to make her brain work without too must strain. Constructed giant fields and a flower garden , watering and collecting systems, and probably a lot of automatic farms. Don't mess with her fields because she knows where Tim's tnt stash is at.

Jason and Damian: Builders ,their the reason why the batfam base isn't horrible looking, they stay together late in the morning after patrol building and they argue a lot about it, always ending up in one of them dying. (May wake up Jason's ptsd)

Duke and Steph: They don't do much that can be considerate valuable, they're the tricksters. They do meme builds, they killed each other the most and triggered at least 1 raide in Tim's trading town to mess with him. When it's about entertainment a conversation when playing you can count on them.

Cass: That girl is deep in the mine ,no torches she's rowdogging that shit and never died once since they started the server. She probably killed the dragon when nobody was around . And the craziest is that she never farm for anything not related to mines, or minibg efficiency. She stole everything she has (expect anything made with diamond) and still does but nobody accuse her of anything because ,well its Cass we're talking about.

Probably Steph and Barbare personal supplier of tools and armor.

And here the gimmick i think they would have ,they all try to kill one another in the most creatives ways or at least at any occasion possible .

Holes with walls made of crafting tables, thirty creepers stacked inside a house, army of dogs, every potions possible and of course pufferfush/lava under the rugs.

Anyway good night i have things to do as the adult im supposed to be 👔

[lemontartroulette]

Headcanons list?! ☆

tw for slightly gory talk. but. his ability blows people up cmon guys

warning !!! this is ooc so beware !!

Kajii's ability doesn't protect him from anything but the impact of the explosion- so his hearing and vision are impacted the more he uses it.

Because of the previous headcanon, Kajii is hard of hearing and partially blind! After realizing the limits of his ability, he carries around hearing protection headphones and only adopted his goggles after going temporarily blind.

Mori has to straightjacket him sometimes.

Kajii is gay, gay homosexual. Good for them.

Their body is littered in scars and burns and (fresh) bruises, mostly from experiments gone wrong. And from their fight with Nathaniel.

this post by @/kajiislover on pinterest. while it's not a headcanon since it's taken from asagiri's interviews (according to jade), i'm still putting it here.

He has now been desensitized to wounds, after studying in medicine and watching his ability work.

But just because they're desensitized to the macabre doesn't mean they're not grossed the fuck out by unhygienic things! They hate anything 'unclean'- like bodily fluids. Blood? Gross, don't get it on them! Sweat and tears and spit and... other stuff? Ew, ick!

They're a neat freak. Sure, the lab may be constantly blown to smithereens, but rest assured that it will be in tip-top shape in no time! They cannot possibly work in an unkept workspace, can they? No, it just won't do!

They has a weird relationship with Mori- they think of him as some upper being, putting him on a pedestal. Their loyalty to the Mafia is mostly because they can't cross Mori.

His weird relationship with religion was instilled into him from a really young age, he quickly disbelieved in it due to how people acted around him, how he saw so many 'plotholes' in it. And because he needed some sort of clarity- like anyone who suddenly had their world view shattered at such a young age- he turned to science and became obsessed over it.

Kajii is medically trained, they simply choose not to give a fuck- not because they got a degree, but because they got training from Mori.

Kajii obviously sees the destruction his ability causes, he sees the mangled bodies and smells the burning flesh. That's why he's so... eccentric. He's almost been driven mad by it. His only anchor is science, his pursuit to find true immortality and a meaning behind the suffering.

They have PTSD from when they got their ability (once again in the post from Jade aka @/kajiislover) and part of what triggers it is large crowds. Not crowds as a population, but crowds as in all the noise of people talking, the music in the streets, all of it reminds them.

They don't remember exactly what it reminds them of, but it makes them panic. In fact, most of that part of his past is a hazy memory, his childhood a fog.

After basically being forced to calm the hell down, Kajii took up baking. It's a science of it's own, but much less destructive! And their favorite things to make are all lemon-flavored.

He calls people 'dear' just to fuck with them.

They never sleep. Oh lord someone drag them into bed.

more tba !!

divider credit (@/bernardbendystraws) || tags yayy--> @strawberrywhosobbed

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Guess who just read chapter 18 of Love, Death and Rollerskates and have a new theory to share

Beware: major spoilers under the cut

Okay, so, remember when I said Sun could maybe find his way out of Afton's psychological hold and save the reader along with Moon?

Yeah yeah yeah, and now new elements have been added and they're rather big ones. So, does this theory still stand?

Well, the answer is: it could. We did see that Sun is also badly affected by his actions, and shows regrets from killing his friends, to the point of lying to himself and rewriting his files, feeding the vicious circle of hopes, despair and frustration.

But there's a stain to the picture: Moon and Sun haven't been built by the same person.

Now, let me voice out the obvious: as long as we believed that Moon was also a creation of Afton, we could easily imagine Sun somehow following his counterpart's path to freedom, which placed the solar bot as a desperate soul needing to be saved just as much as his lunar coworker. Moon could be held as a proof that Afton's conditioning was flawed. He was the testimony of a past occurrence.

Except he isn't anymore.

Moon isn't Afton's creation. His main directive isn't the same as Sun. Which means him defying Afton's authority means nothing in regards to Sun's situation. He's not a "past occurrence". There is no past occurrence. No proof.

We no longer have the certainty that Sun can break out of his mental prison.

Of course, we could argue that Sun's feeling for the reader are also a "first occurrence", that the mechanism at work is slightly different than what it was the previous times, and that sentience is a tricky thing that makes disobedience possible. But the fact that Moon doesn't have the same main directive as Sun also raises another concern: we're not sure anymore that being sentient is a strong enough thing to make them able to mess with their code.

We could think otherwise before because we were taking for a fact that Moon has the same main directive as Sun and that he was therefore able to break the rules, or at least bend them enough to stop being as loyal to Afton as he should. But he doesn't have the same directives. Which means we might have never seen him disobey or twist his main directive. Which means he might not be able to do so either.

I feel like this fact might be important in the future. The way this problem will be addressed might be crucial to the story and I can't wait to see it developed, and to discover how Sun, Moon and y/n will deal with it in the future.

But wait, I'm not done.

You know, while we're on the subject of sentience...

What if Sun and Moon were not the only sentient bots?

Yeah, you got it, I'm talking about Space Cadet.

I won't lie, I really feel like an idiot voicing out the most obvious thing here but listen. I need to fucking say it out loud. So let's say the obvious.

The way Spadillelicious phrased the latest interaction with the little guy literally pushes us to question his sentience, and I strongly believe it's not because of some weird type of habit the reader might be starting to develop, to consider any vaguely humanoid bot as sentient.

Space Cadet is sentient. He has been since the beginning: when he tried to warn the reader with a cautionary tale of a woodsman (the reader, but who truly killed them? I'd say the hunter, but are we really sure about that?), a wolf (Moon, stalking y/n in the shadows? But what did Space Cadet mean when he said the wolf would feed on the corpse out of hunger? Is Moon more of an opportunist than we'd think?) and a hunter (Sun, preying for new hires every time the precedent employee gets killed, pulling the trigger when commended to do so?), just before the reader discovers Afton's shady business.

And now, as y/n desperately tries to hide from Moon, Space Cadet wakes up without an invitation to tell them that Moon wasn't designed to be bad, he used to work for a good guy, and found himself in those desperate circumstances against his will, but he's still good.

Space Cadet is sentient. He just cannot show it too much for some reasons. Probably because Afton would get rid of him if he learnt about it. So the little bot tries and tries and tries to warn people that something is very wrong.

Of course, he doesn't portray the two other animatronics greatly either. But we have to admit: both Sun and Moon aren't exactly good people. And if Cadet is sentient, it means he has his own opinion on both of them: two bots he's seen partaking more or less actively in Afton's activities, while he was a simple, miserable, passive witness of the horrors William committed behind closed curtains.

So of course, he isn't very fond of either of them. But he's also very much aware that out of the two, Moon might be the best pick that the reader could make.

[clangenrising]

Welcome to RisingClan!

This is a Warrior Cats Fan Project based on the game ClanGen (@officialclangen ), basically my take on a warrior cats story inspired by a pixel game's events! Below are a list of resources for you, the reader. Please look over these resources before asking a question. Thank you for coming along for the ride, I hope you enjoy yourselves and feel welcome.

You can also find my on my main, @rowanfalls, and my art blog, @ashleyrowan

Chronological Order

If you'd like to start at the beginning, you can do so here. Every Canon Post now has a set of links that look like this: "Prev | First | Next" that you can use to navigate through the story.

You can also find a complete list of all Canon Posts in chronological order, sorted by month and year, here. This doesn't include asks, memes, or fan art, only pieces that contain canon story content.

Tag Lists and Trigger Warnings

RisingClan is proud to employ Trauma Informed Storytelling. As a safety tool, I use a series of tags to warn readers about upcoming triggering content as well as a system called Heavy Content Alert over on @clangenrising-alerts, all of which can be found explained in detail here.

As well, a list of tags that I use to categorize content like AUs, advice, and so forth can be found at that same link.

Patreon and Ko-Fi

RisingClan is free and will always be free, but if you'd like to support me financially, you can do so on my Patreon and my Ko-Fi! This support is greatly appreciated and helps me continue to create great work for RisingClan. Keep in mind that if you use the Patreon or Ko-Fi apps, there will likely be a cut of your donation/subscription taken for the appstore and that using the desktop sites will ensure that I receive the full amount as intended.

Allegiances

A list of characters and their allegiances, like those listed at the beginning of every Warrior Cats book, can be found here. This list stays up to date with the most recent piece so beware of spoilers.

FAQ

Below the cut is a list of some of the questions I frequently receive and their answers. Please read this whole list before sending an ask as any questions already covered by the FAQ will be deleted.

Q: What happened to the Real Time gimmick? A: In October 2024, I had a mental breakdown because I was trying to do too many things to unrealistic standards. I took a hiatus for my mental health and, when I was ready to return, my readers voted that I should start posting as soon as possible rather than wait all year so I could resume the Real Time gimmick. From January 2025 on, posts are no longer posted on the day in canon when they happen.

Q: What are your ClanGen game settings? A: I play the Stable Version, Expanded Mode. I do not allow mass extinction events, romantic interactions with former mentors, or first cousins to be mates or have romantic interactions. Pregnancy does not ignore biology but same-sex adoption is increased. Cats are allowed to breed with cats that aren't their mates. Experience based graduation is turned on (although some of the story was played before it was an option), cats will never retire due to a permanent condition, and warriors and elders are able to choose to become mediators.

Q: Do the other Clans have safe files in your game? A: Yes, although I don't follow the events of those games as strictly as I do RisingClan. They are here to support RisingClan's story so if something that happens in another Clan would distract from the story or changing an event might better tell the story then I will change that event. However, the City Cats do not have a save file as most of them are created specifically for plot purposes. I have a save file I use to help generate sprites/design ideas for the City Cats but I don't follow the events or relationships in it at all.

Q: Will you show us the character sprites/relationship tabs? A: No, I won't. I was more open to the idea when I started this blog but as things went on I realized that I preferred the freedom of not having to stay strictly to the sprites in my designs, especially now that I'm making RisingClan genetically accurate. As well, some sprites contain spoilers like missing limbs that I don't want to share. I also play so far in advance that it isn't possible for me to show you everyone's relationship tabs since that data is no longer accessible once a cat dies. Also I got a new computer and now I can't get ClanGen to work so I couldn't access my files if I tried. :(

Q: How are the RisingClan cats genetically accurate? A: I have a spreadsheet that keeps track of the genotypes of every cat in RisingClan (and some of the cats outside of RisingClan) and whenever kits are born I make sure that the kits are possible given the parents involved. Because ClanGen is not genetically accurate, I will be deviating from the sprites when necessary but I also intend to edit my save files to be genetically accurate when I have the time so that we don't drift too far from the sprites over the generations.

Q: What art program do you use? A: I use ClipStudio Paint (a friend bought me the full version a while ago) and I love it. Highly recommend if you have the money (or if you can find it um.. second hand, as it were).

Q: Why hasn't my ask been posted yet? A: All answered asks are put into the queue and spaced out to pad the space between writing pieces. If I am receiving a lot of asks, it may take a couple weeks for your specific ask to get posted. If that time goes by and I still haven't answered it, I probably deleted the question because it was already answered by the FAQ, it made me uncomfortable, or it was needlessly antagonistic.

Bonus: You made a typo in the last piece! I appreciate people pointing out typos for me since I don't have any beta readers but I also don't like posting those corrections very much. If you see a typo, please send it in an ask but know that once I see it and fix the typo, I will delete the ask. This means that if there are any questions or comments you want me to see and post, they need to be in a separate ask from the typo correction or I will delete them. I don't want to delete your lovely comments so make sure you send a separate ask!

Do you have a question that isn't on the FAQ? It might be in the FAQ tag, try checking there too!

[mj-iza-writer]

Trigger Warning mentions of mental breakdowns that led to rash decisions. Possible suicide ideation. Reader beware.

"Oh, hello Whumpee, you're early", Caretaker looked up from some paperwork, "please come in."

"Is-is that okay Caretaker? I can come back", Whumpee looked down as they leaned on the doorframe.

"No, no, did your nurse or guard accompany you?", Caretaker looked around for them, "we can get started early."

"N-no sir", Whumpee sobbed and wiped their face with their sleeve.

"Hey, hey its okay. Here, come sit down, I can easily text them and let them know you're with me. You just can't leave them though, they're their for your safety", Caretaker quickly stood and walked over to Whumpee.

"Okay there, the text was received", Caretaker looked up at Whumpee, who now sat on the couch.

The phone vibrated, "they said you made them worry when you went missing, but they're glad you went to me. You seemed off after lunch."

Caretaker looked up again at Whumpee, "are you okay? Did something happen around lunch time that affected you?"

Whumpee looked down and nodded.

"Okay", Caretaker stood and pulled a chair closer to Whumpee, "let's start there."

"I feel like an abandoned building Caretaker", Whumpee looked up with new tears started to fall.

"Oh, can you elaborate for me", Caretaker started to take notes.

"During lunch, Nurse Hannah and George started to talk about the abandoned wing of the hospital being abandoned for so long, and it's now unusable. They said the hospital attempted to make use of it for so long, but nothing worked out. They had plans to tear it down and do something else with it", Whumpee was full on crying now.

"Yes the wing is part of the old hospital, and unfortunately has fallen into disrepair", Caretaker looked up from his notes, "how do you mean that you feel like an abandoned building though? Can you explain yourself, I'm interested in what your thought process is."

Whumpee squeezed their eyes tight hoping to squeeze out their tears.

"I once was a part of society, I was employed, I was useful", Whumpee almost seemed to plead as they spoke, "now I have to have a guard watch me, and have almost daily meetings with you so I don't... you know", Whumpee was getting to the point of frustration. "I feel like I'm now sitting empty, no longer of use, more than likely forgotten by those that knew me. There are a few people who still take care of it, that abandoned building, but they may grow tired of it, and come to the decision that it's of no use, it's too broken, and at one point they might walk away too. I'll be there abandoned, until I'm torn down or I fall apart myself. I feel like an abandoned building Caretaker."

Whumpee looked up to see Caretaker's expression. They had a feeling they had said too much, and George would have to watch them like a hawk... again.

"Caretaker I...", Whumpee looked down and wiped their eyes, "I'm sorry to have dumped that out on you, um, can we forget I said half of that at least... please."

"No", Caretaker continued to write, "give me one second while I finish writing, do you need some water? I just stalked the fridge."

Whumpee nodded and went to the fridge, "do you want one?"

"No thankyou, I appreciate that", Caretaker looked up, "do you feel better getting that off your chest?"

"Um a little, I'll see if I feel even better after I know what you'll do to me after this meeting", Whumpee sat back down.

"What do you mean?", Caretaker eyed them.

"George is probably going to have to watch me closer, right?", Whumpee questioned before taking a drink.

"Eh, not really. You can't leave your room like you did today though. That's the only thing", Caretaker looked back at the notes, "let's wait to talk about this until tomorrow, we can talk about some other things today, maybe some good things that happened, maybe that will help you feel better. I want to study these notes so I know what I can do to help you better with these feelings."

Whumpee nodded.

They talked for a while, and then Whumpee yawned.

"How about I get you back to your room? You can take a nap. You can easily tucker yourself out when you cry like that", Caretaker stood.

Whumpee nodded, "you're not mad at me, right?"

"No, of course not. I'm proud of you actually. You knew you didn't feel okay, and you seeked help. Then you opened up about your feelings. I only wish I could tell you the fix-all right now, but I've never heard it put this way before. I hope it's okay that we come back to it tomorrow."

Whumpee smiled tiredly, "yes Caretaker thats fine."

They started down the hall.

"The only thing is you leaving without George or Nurse Hannah. Next time, just let them know you need me or your doctor, and they will take you to us, no questions asked", Caretaker smiled.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry", Whumpee looked down the hall and saw George at the nurses station talking to Nurse Hannah.

Caretaker and Whumpee stopped at the station.

"There's our runaway", George announced, "please don't do that again, I almost ran the entire hospital looking for you."

"Go easy on them. They were having a hard time, and needed to talk to me. I've already told them", Caretaker sighed, "they're a bit tired, so they may take a nap."

"Was it something we said?", Nurse Hannah looked at Whumpee concerned.

"I'll tell you about what happened once Whumpee is comfortable", Caretaker looked at Whumpee, "they had an emotional day, so they are tired now."

Nurse Hannah came around the counter and followed Whumpee into their room, and started to help them into bed.

George watched from the doorway.

"Are you both mad at me?", Whumpee questioned as Hannah covered them up.

"No, we were concerned though", Nurse Hannah booped Whumpee's nose, "we are glad you made it back to your room."

George agreed.

Caretaker came back a bit later and peaked in at Whumpee.

George and Hannah were sitting inside the room, whispering to not wake up Whumpee, who was fast asleep.

"Pssst", Caretaker whispered, and motioned to them.

Caretaker had a nurse step in to watch Whumpee while he talked to George and Hannah.

"So your conversation about the abandoned hospital wing brought out some hard thoughts for Whumpee", Caretaker handed them the notes they had taken while talking to Whumpee, "though I appreciate that Whumpee was able to express this to me, and it will help them in the end, please I beg of you, we need to be careful with our conversations around Whumpee and other patients even."

They both read the notes.

"Oh poor Whumpee", Hannah sighed sadly.

"I didn't realize", George sighed, "I noticed they were different after lunch. Are they okay? Were you able to help them on this?"

"I told them I'd look into this tonight and bring them in tomorrow to talk about this", Caretaker reached for the notes, "I've never heard it put this way before, and I find it very interesting."

"It's too bad you can't take them into the abandoned wing or even find a way for that wing to be repurposed", Hannah thought out loud.

"That may be an idea, what is supposed to be there now?", Caretaker looked at George.

"I think they talked about a garden or something like that", George pulled out a paper and gave it to Caretaker, "yes this was the announcement."

Caretaker looked it over, "I wonder if I can get Whumpee in there, if it's safe enough."

"I can get you in. The guards still go down there for storage and breaks, we hide from staff down there", George chuckled.

"That explains where you guards disappear to", Caretaker sighed.

The next day George led Caretaker and Whumpee to the abandoned wing.

"Whumpee this is the abandoned wing you heard Nurse Hannah and I talk about. Pretty soon, this will be removed, and they'll have a garden built", George led them down the hall, "I read some of what you told Caretaker, just so I know what was going on. I'm sorry we made you upset. Just know though, although this area will be removed because of safety, the hospital has plans to make a new place for us to enjoy. A new garden will be put up right here."

"Really?", Whumpee looked down the halls, "it's sad in here."

"Yes Whumpee, and when it's up we can go out and explore it", Caretaker smiled, "unfortunately sometimes things lose their service. This wing was once used to house many people and help them. Unfortunately, when the hospital expanded, this wing became older and, in turn not usable anymore. The hospital is going to give it a new life so it can help people again in a new way."

Whumpee listened.

"Just like for you, you may not be able to go back to how your life once was, but this hospital is going to give you resources to help you. Whether you get to leave the hospital, or you live here for a while or for the rest of your life. Who knows. With those resources you might be able to do some great things you wouldn't have been able to do before your breakdown. Is this making sense?"

"Yes Caretaker", Whumpee wiped a tear and smiled, "thankyou."

"You're welcome", Caretaker smiled then looked at George, "thanks for bringing us down here, I think it helped me know what to say."

"I'm glad", George grinned, "Whumpee just know I'm on your side, as is Nurse Hannah, we won't abandon you. We are happy to take care of you and our other patients."

Whumpee nodded, and wiped another tear, "thankyou", they sobbed.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

Hey MJ here, um this one is one of those stories I wanted to cry while writing because Whumpee is me. I have abandonment issues, and these are real thoughts.

I was once talking to someone, about abandoned buildings. I love abandoned things so much. I can't even explain it. I was talking to someone once though, and they knew I had these issues. Then they asked me, "do you like abandoned things, because you see yourself in them?" To say I was dumbfounded is an understatement.

So I just wanted to be real with you. I am okay mentally just saw and abandoned building being tore down today and it triggered these memories and a story. So I hope you enjoyed, and if you have these issues to, they are hard, but we will make it through. You are loved, I promise. Signed, MJ

[ten-cent-sleuth]

A Galling Yoke, Part 10

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for the Taking the Blame / Framed / Admitting to Something You Didn’t Do and Good intentions that end in bad results squares on my July Break Bingo card

See this post for main info, including a masterlist and synopsis. See this post for warnings.

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature (for potential triggers, not for sexual content)

BEWARE THE CONTENT WARNINGS POSTED ABOVE.

Sleep evaded you for two days straight. The first night, you did not even bother lying down; you knew rest would not come after such a thought had passed through your mind, so you focused on inspecting, scrutinising, picking apart and building up that thought. There was no escaping it. As far as your certainty went, William was the killer. Well, the hirer of the killer; if he was guilty of any felony because of you, you had to do whatever you could to keep him from being punished for it.

As soon as the day broke, you sent a note to Jotyard, summoning your father posthaste. You tried to spend the rest of that day productively but were not nearly as successful as you would hope. You then tried to spend the night asleep but were entirely unsuccessful, listless and anxious as you were. However, Lord Coltidge arrived in the small hours before dawn, so your tossing and turning was not without reward.

Eschewing any preamble, you greeted your father in your sitting room with, “You want me to be blamed for the murder, do you not?”

The earl looked mildly surprised. “Yes. William wanted the true manner of Edmund’s death to come out, but my heir cannot be found guilty of murder. We compromised: I agreed to hire a detective to ‘uncover’ the truth, and he agreed to accept whatever culprit the detective could identify.”

Scowling, you nodded. You knew your father well enough that he did not have to explain that even as he drafted this agreement with your brother, he had planned to shift the playing board here and there so that William would not be the identified culprit. When you dredged up the affair and the mistress, Lord Coltidge found the perfect alternative: you.

And as your mind ran through the possible avenues leading forth from this moment, you found yourself, for the first time in decades, aligning with your father’s point of view.

If only Lord Coltidge had hired another investigator. Any other investigator. Then, perhaps you could guide this case to an open-ended conclusion with no concrete suspects, no arrests. But Sherlock Holmes would not rest until the case was resolved to his satisfaction. Generally, that meant a guilty party that made sense, and the only suspect who would make more sense than the caring brother of the deceased’s neglected wife was the neglected wife herself.

With a sigh, you clasped your hands in front of you and met your father’s wary, watchful gaze. “Allow me until the end of the week.”

To your grim amusement, the earl looked startled and confused for the first time in this conversation. “To do what, Daughter?” he questioned.

“That is my business,” you said, deriving some twisted gratification from finally allowing yourself to express the sternness and derision you felt towards your father. “All you need know is that by the end of the week, I shall go to Scotland Yard and confess as the murderess of Edmund Sulyard. My brother’s name—nor yours—shall not pass my lips.”

Lord Coltidge’s jaw actually dropped. Not wide open, but still. You almost laughed.

“Do we have an agreement?” you demanded.

“You— I—” The earl shook himself. “Yes, child. I shall not interfere with the rest of your week. Yes.”

Heavens, you couldn’t recall the last time he had called you “child”. It might have pleased you, in other circumstances. It should have enraged you, in these. Yet you found yourself feeling nothing at all. Pursing your lips, you gestured towards the door, and Lord Coltidge actually managed to bow and fare you well before departing.

You leaned your back against the wall, pressed your hands to your face, and breathed.

William or you. It was William or you.

It could not be William.

He had his life ahead of him, gold and aglitter. Yours lay in tatters behind you. Heir apparent to powerful titles and prosperous estates, handsome and kind and educated, he had a future. A disobedient and disregarded daughter, a childless widow on the shelf, you only had a past.

It had to be you.

Thus determined, you awayed to 221 Baker Street and pounded on the door as soon as you possibly could. It was still too early for a house call in the eyes of etiquette, but Sherlock would at least be up and would not mind.

Or if he did, he would have much bigger problems to preoccupy him soon.

“Your ladyship?” the detective himself greeted you upon opening his door, brow furrowed. “I fear I have no updates to—”

“I might have one,” you interjected, your heart starting to thaw from the numbness that had encased it mere hours ago.

Sherlock blinked but stepped aside to let you in.

The moment your eyes landed on the case board, the first hints of actual distress hit you: a wave of nausea, a sob building in your lungs, a tremble in the bad knee. Somehow, your fate was the easiest thing in the world to accept until you were here, in Sherlock’s flat, in Sherlock’s presence.

Drifting to the board, you pressed a hand to your chest to still the heart railing against you. Why must you suffer for what William did? it raged. Why must you sacrifice everything when you did nothing? Give in! Give in and tell Sherlock the TRUTH!

Your blood stampeded, your thoughts screamed, your vision swam. You wanted to give in. Angels above, you so desperately wanted to give in—

“No,” you whispered harshly, your hand curling into a fist at your chest. William was your brother. What was wanted didn’t matter. You loved him. It could not be him. You loved him. It had to be you.

“My lady?”

You turned around. Sherlock was watching you but was keeping his distance. You smiled.

“Forgive me for barging in on you in such a way, sir.”

“Of course; it is no inconvenience to me. You are always… That is, you are here about the case?”

“Yes.” It has to be you. Has to be, has to be, has to be. “May I trouble you for some tea? I believe this discussion shall warrant it.”

The furrow in his brow deepened. “Certainly, my lady,” he muttered, clearly hesitant even as he shuffled off to the kitchen.

You surprised yourself with how swiftly you moved once he was out of sight; though your breath trembled in your throat, your hands were steady as they dismantled the board of clues and ideas. And for once, you were glad the winter chill had a knack for stealing through London homes, for Sherlock’s fireplace was already blazing to ward it off. Throwing the numerous notes, photos, miscellaneous papers, and strips of string into the flame was the work of an instant.

“Your ladyship, what—?”

Your heart whirled around in your breast, but you did not move at his voice. In his haste to reach the hearth, he jostled you, and still you remained transfixed on the charring materials, on the puffs of smoke they gave as your case—your husband’s case—disappeared from all but your and Sherlock’s memories.

“Have you gone mad?” he cried, looking up at you from where he kneeled on the floor, his eyes wide and his hair askew. “It will take me days to rewrite and reorder all of my notes! And the coroner’s report—the anonymous letter— I have no copies of those! What evidence am I to present to Scotland Yard when I find the killers?”

You stared down at him. You wanted to comfort him, to reassure him that he would not be found lacking because he would have an unresisting confessant, but you had returned to feeling numb. More so, in fact, than when you had accepted your fate with your father. Indeed, how could you open your mouth to speak when your lips, your tongue, your jaw felt entirely detached from you?

Another moment passed with Sherlock’s bewilderment shrinking to small, soft concern. Climbing to his feet, he grasped at you and murmured, “Are you all right, my lady? Do you feel ill? Has something happened?” Close up, you could see his nostrils flare. “Has somebody… Did somebody tell you to do this? Have you been threatened?”

Heavens, he was so close. His touch was so cold.

“No,” you whispered. “No to all of your questions. I simply…”

“What?” he asked, his voice quieter and harsher than yours had been. “Simply what?”

You stared. It simply has to be you.

Sherlock let go of you with such revulsion that you almost staggered back like you’d been physically pushed. “I do not understand,” he said. “I do not understand at all! If your actions are your own, not born of illness, can you not explain them to me? If they are rational, can you not share the rationale? I trust you, my lady, but not blindly!”

At that, your heart, still beating against you in rebellion, quailed at last. “I ought to leave you now,” you said, moving back towards the door. “I see you need time to regain control of yourself, and it would not do for me to witness a man’s loss of temper.”

With a scoff, he stepped into your way. “It would not do?” he snarled. “Would that I were more surprised that you would turn your back to reality and hie away under the guise of decorum!”

You frowned but did not reply. Your nonverbal reaction seemed to be enough for him, however.

“Oh, yes,” he said, dry as the unforgiving desert. “Less than a fortnight ago, you accused me of always hiding behind logic, but it was not long in our reacquaintance before I saw that you have taken to hiding behind etiquette. The girl I knew—my friend, my dearest friend—would never have feared finding out the truth, whatever it was, whatever it cost!”

Hiding? “Act not like you know who I am,” you spat. Hiding? “Nobody—nobody—knows who I am.” Sometimes it feels I am the only one not hiding, exposed and alone.

He scoffed again, this time with the full force of his disdain. “Perhaps nobody else, but I am different. My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people do not know.”

“Oh, you are not all that different.” You rolled your eyes to punctuate your utter disinterest. “You may piece together my habits and my history within minutes—within seconds. But that is all external, all merely the world-and-me. You know naught what matters!”

Shaking his head, Sherlock stepped towards you. “No! No, you only think that because I have not commented on what I have noticed since we have reconnected in London.”

You shook your head as well, more surprised by his desperation than by his condescension.

He stepped closer. “Dismiss me not with so apathetic a face, madam,” he warned. “I have refrained from making deductions about the changes in you, but if I must prove myself to be a detective worthy of an answer—” His arm shook with rage as he thrust it towards the fireplace.

“Sherlock,” you tried; no gold he spun from straw could change your mind.

“The first peculiarity,” he cut in, “that stood out to me was the lack of footmen. It took me a few days to verify there were no others, but yes, it seems the butler is the only male in your entire household.”

“Sherlock—”

“Speaking of Mr Rogers, the man has not stopped watching me closely and shooting me dark looks, threatening looks, in all my visits to your home. He is not the only protective member on your staff: after our disagreement in the kitchen, after you watched my experiment with electricity and then fled, your cook saw your distress and castigated me for upwards of ten minutes for apparently causing it. I have never known employees to be so easily provoked on behalf of their employer!”

You had no response for that; you had not even been aware…

“And”—he waved an index finger in the air—“that employer is not what I expected either. I noted you did not withhold criticism of Sulyard as a person yet avoided talking about his effect on you. You did not want Mrs Rogers talking about it, either; you interrupted her—rather unlike you—when she wished to comment on his treatment of you.”

You started to feel lightheaded. “Sherlock…”

“In fact,” he exclaimed, “that you would fall down the stairs entirely by accident was dubious to me from the start—exacerbated by your distress when I asked about your injuries. Each peculiarity can and was taken as a quirk of an individual, but now that I am considering them as pieces of a whole, an image starts to form. Your household is defensive, you are guarded, because your husband was not merely self-centred and foolish as many husbands are, but actively violent and—”

His forehead creased, his lips parted, as he turned slowly towards you. The realisation in his eyes made you sick.

Sherlock, whimpered your heart as it plummeted to the floor and shattered.

He stepped forwards, and though you wanted to step back, your feet were cemented to the floor. Your every limb felt heavy, in fact; your every pore felt torn open, your every hair pulled to attention, your every layer wrenched out of your grip.

“My lady…” There were dozens of questions contorting his face, all of them based on Is it true?

“No, no, no,” you whispered. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t… After everything you’d done to keep him—to keep anyone—from finding out… To keep yourself from ever having to think about…

Shoulders tense but hands wide open, he stepped into your space and reached for you.

Abruptly, you were not numb anymore.

“No!” you yelled, batting away his hands. “How dare you? How dare you?”

“Petal,” he tried again, his voice cracking.

And suddenly, all you could think of was William. Dear, despicable, beloved, wretched brother! The protest in your chest flared back to life: Why must you suffer for what William did? Why must you sacrifice everything when you did nothing? Your eyes stung with liquid bitterness as you grabbed the edge of a chair and doubled over with the pain of so many injuries. Lord Coltidge marrying you off to an abusive blackguard without a thought for your needs or wishes. William Voss ruining his life, ostensibly for your sake, without even consulting you. And most mortifying of all, Sherlock Holmes stripping you of the bandages covering a thousand wretched wounds in his tactless attempts to prove you were known.

“How dare you,” you sobbed angrily.

“I… I simply—”

“What?” you snapped. “Simply what? You simply think you can fix any problem, mend any tragedy, by simply being the smartest person in the room? I am sorry to disappoint you, sir! Cleverness and presumption shall do naught for me! For I am finished, wholly finished, with those who think my life is theirs to dig through, theirs to upheave, simply because they see solutions or—or pathways that I do not. My problems are mine. How dare he— That is, how dare you— How dare anyone dismiss what I wish to do about them?”

Miserably, brokenly, Sherlock whispered your name—your real name, your Christian name, the name he had not uttered to you in fifteen years. Oh, you had struck him—laid him out, cut him open, though you hadn’t intended to. You squeezed your eyes shut and allowed a few tears to leak out. He had not wanted to hurt you either, you knew; nor had your brother or, really, your father. The only one who had ever meant you harm—and enjoyed inflicting it, at that—was your husband. And still, and still, and still.

What was wanted didn’t matter.

“I… I apologise, Sherlock,” you croaked out, peeling your eyes open. “It is… It is humiliating for you to learn of it this way, but I…should not be angry. It is good that you know. Now, you have your motive.”

He looked stricken. “You do not mean that. You cannot—”

“I can, and I do,” you told him tiredly. Moments ago, it had felt relieving, lightening, to react fully and deeply to your brother’s crime and its implications for the first time since it had been revealed or confirmed to you, but now, you only felt weariness. “I murdered Edmund Sulyard for beating and belittling me all the years of our marriage, and you cannot prove otherwise.”

Watching Sherlock’s jaw work and his eyes flit about, you knew there was no coming back from this. You had thought the impassioned conversation in your sitting room had damaged your relationship? That did not even look like a fight anymore! From now on, Sherlock would see you as a criminal if he believed your confession or a lying saboteur if he did not, and either way…he would see you differently now that he knew.

Either way…his friendship was lost to you.

Suddenly, you could no longer stand watching him. Watching him stare and struggle. Watching him slip away from you.

So you ran. So you ran despite your knee’s protests and Sherlock’s shouts alike, you ran until you had turned enough corners to have lost any pursuit he would have mounted, you ran to hail a hansom to drive you home. So you dragged yourself up your front steps, you pushed past the Rogerses’ greetings and questions, you limped to your chambers. So you slid to the floor, you wept and, God forgive you, you hid.

Hi. :) Thank you for reading, and thank you @marveldcmistress for betaing. I know this chapter is a doozy; I only hope it’s not horribly done. Feedback is always welcome! (And as always, a cookie to anyone who can spot the Arthur Conan Doyle reference.)

[alicentsultana]

Updated!

Warning:  this chapter contain graphic descriptions of death, pain and obstetrical violence, proceed with care.

My considerations and comments are under the cut.

So, I'd firstly would like to share that this chapter wasn't planned, I decided to include it after the user vangooooogh on AO3 suggested it, and I thought it would be good for the dramatics of the fic.

A disclaimer: I'm a pharmacist, if I understand about one thing, this thing is drugs and what they do with us. Also, I'm have chronic pain, so I believe myself qualified to share and speak about it a little.

Beware of some possible spoilers now:

You may realize that I included mostly of her interactions with Criston on the fateful day, as this is a alicole fic (oh really, as if anyone hadn't noticed), and that she doesn't mention her kids and the need to see them before the ending, I have reasons to make her like this.

As a childbride and a too young mother, I'm sticking to her difficulty to connect with her children, though now they made of her a Goddess in their minds.

Then, we have the fact that she's pregnant and worried about the baby, the delivery and th chance of her survival, her children would be the last thing dancing inside her head, they are safe and surrounded by people, she has the luxury of avoiding thinking about them.

And lastly, by the many things I heard from my own mother and my family, no parent would like for their child to watch them die, Alicent wouldn't want them to see her.

Important things to notice: the concept of family as we know is relatively new, the thing of parents who look after their children and spend time with them started near the victorian period, and for a medieval setting, and in the context of rich nobles and monarchy, the children would greet their parents and hope for the best, nanny X is taking care of them, not mother or father.

Because of the approaching ending of her pregnancy, Alicent would be expected to be confined and resting, waiting for the delivery, she would receive no one, wouldn't be bothered or see her children.

I decided against her following the confinement tradition for she's the Queen and Regent at many times, it would be inconvenient and something she would insist on not following to keep her power at the council, much more now without her father.

The descriptions of pain are very much taken from personal experience and what I think a cut like hers would feel like. Many of us, chronic pain patients have to describe what our pain feels like, with temperature, color, tactile sensations, and I decided to bring a little of it to this situation after I pondered what it would feel like for her.

She took poppy milk like Aemma had, and I'm assuming this is the analog of morphine, all the drugs derived from morphine often cloud the mind and judgment, it's hard to express yourself or maintain composure, also, my mother and other family members often shared that they remember little of the labors and deliveries, so I use this in here too. All this factors combined would make the experience be more heavy and I believe that very much closer to real experiences with bad labors and obstetrical violence that we know happens since forever really, a great shame.

Well, I think that was all. I hope you can enjoy or already enjoyed this chapter. And if you read this and is worried about your mental health and is afraid of the potential triggers: do not read this chapter, it's not intrinsical to the progression of the fic and won't be mentioned or taken in consideration for the rest of the fic.

[justepilepsy]

Do you happen to have any information on the Harding test and if any companies are required to use it in the US? Like if online ads are required to use it, games, etc.

I had a few seizures from Psychonauts 2, and the game does not have a flashing lights warning. I requested that to be patched in so no one else might figure it out by experience like me. The staff responded well, and mentioned that Microsoft should have done internal testing. I found Xbox's gaming accessibility guidelines for photosensitivity, and it mentioned the Harding test as what they use to check for photosensitive accessibility. I'm trying to find more information on how it works, but can't. All I can think is that maybe it is like PEAT (Photosensitive Epilepsy Analysis Tool) but more robust. I would ideally like to not send in £30 + a clip for checking how it works for their online testing with content I know can give me a seizure to see if it picks up on that.

- @crippled-kunikos

Hi Anon, I've been sitting on this for a while and been thinking on how to answer this. I don't have any additional information outside of what's available to the public regarding th Harding Test. I have some personal opinions by now on flashing lights however, so maybe this helps you in some way, but beware that this is all based on my own experience/observations:

To my knowledge the Harding Test was created to detect the worst of the worst flashing lights and photosensitivite effects. So this means, that there is a certain threshold that must be passed in order for it to be like "Beep boop this stuff bad!" So. What about all the other stuff that is very flashing lights, but not flashy enough to kick off this response? Well - that stuff is potentially triggering too, but less likely to like... to the average (non-photosensitive) person. Now - I am quotig wikipedia here, so not the best source but the wording puts it well:

"Any such over limit violations give rise to the media being failed. Otherwise the media is passed fit for broadcast and a pass certificate can be automatically generated." https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harding_test

So, to me this means: The Harding Test has a specific limit/amount of flashing lights that needs to be reached for it to flag something as dangerous. It's basically detecting the worst of the worst. But it does not seem to be designed to catch flashing lights that are only dangerous for "some" part of photosensitive people. Photosensitivity seems to be a spectrum, when you look around on tumblr, users have a lot of different tolerance levels for this! Some get triggered by a still image that is otherwise pure red, others are mostly fine. Some people experience motion sickness via rapid scrolling, some people don't. So.. The Use of the Harding Test is no 100% guarantee that a game will be absolutely SAFE for every level of photosensitivity. Also - to my awareness, the XBOX accessibility guidelines are just that. Guidelines. They are not mandatory to be applied during development. They are a toolkit and ressource pool for Developers, but not a "Must have" for every game. It is great that this ressource exists!!! BUt it isn't a mandatory step within the development of games. I reckon, it's possible that Psychonauts 2 was run through the Harding test by microsoft, but none of the footage run through was severe enough to reach that threshold for the Algorithm to go "Beep Bop this sucks!" Hence the game made it in as is. On the note on how the harding test works - I think looking at movies makes it also clearer, that the Harding Test has a certain threshold that media needs to pass, but this revision won't guarantee absolute safety. Looking at Spiderverse and the Incredibles 2, the movie's intense strobes were certainly reduced for the UK movie theatre release. But the reduction of the effects in Incredibles 2 was only just enough to pass the test, it did not make the movie less dangerous to a wide audience with differing photosensitivity levels. I hope this helps!

[rawliverandcigarettes]

One thing that becomes clearer and clearer every time I dare to dip back into The Empire of Preys, is that it's a story for... almost nobody.

(beware: I express a ton of feelings regarding the series under the cut, not all of them positive --and I talk a little bit about my current relationship to the Mass Effect fandom)

Don't get me wrong: I adore it, I am still extremely puzzled at how my brain even began to conceive a story like that, and the first chapter is a complete banger in my honest opinion, and the characters are uncomfortable in a very interesting way, and the worldbuilding is extremely dense with things I hope are meaningful, but.

It's also... pretty hostile to readership? By that I mean: I don't think it can be read passively. A big part of reading TEoP is, first, to understand how systems function normally; and then, understand how these systems interact altogether, how they can be abused, how they are actually abused, and what chain of events these systems will lead to. I am really proud of this interconnectivity --at the same time, it is incredibly dense and demand work. For all the fun and games I can try to inject in there, there are basic principles that can't skip being understood well for the plot to make sense; it's a politically driven story in the dryest possible way --with disaster bisexuals and fashionistas sprinkled on top to lush it up a little, but at heart it is a story about systems interconnecting from the bottom to the top, and it's a tangled mess in there.

So it's... If I'm being honest, and in spite of my genuine love of it, I have to admit it is a little hard to dedicate myself to pushing it further to the degree of polish that it needs. Not to say I won't do it --I will-- but it's impossible not to notice how *barren* the Mass Effect community has gotten in the last couple of years, this year being particularly bad. The readership was barely there anymore when Halfway Home got out, and I'm like... who's even left in there to read 200k worth of words of salarian/turian/asari politics in excruciating detail? Who's even interested in peeling up that toxic system of governance and how soft imperialism manifests in that universe? I still am, because I am invested in that version of Mass Effect and the characters I have put together in that context. But who else?

Of course, there's always this thing of "don't write for an audience, write for yourself", and I'm an absolute follower of that mentality. However.

However.

(oops here comes a condensed version of that Halfway Home post-mortem I promised six months agoooo)

Halfway Home was *hard work*. It's work I decided to go through on my own, and I knew from the start it wouldn't reach that large of an audience --on virtue of being stupid long, about an OC (and a salarian at that, who cares), and having a trigger warning list longer than most people would find reasonable. I am happy that I did the work, and that I chewed the text over until I was absolutely sick of it --but it was basically the best version of what 7 years worth of change and growth and experimentations could get to before absolute burnout. And I am even happy about the readership! I had wonderful comments and I am truly honored that some people invested in that story to the degree they did, and I am fully aware that stories that take much more work get even less attention on the daily. But I would lie to say that I kind of felt... drained, when I saw that I had, indeed, taken too much time to complete it, and the fandom was basically dried up when I finally released it. Watching seven years of my life disappear down the Ao3 drain felt... Well, I won't lie. It felt kind of bad. It felt kind of like grief.

At the end of the day, it is true that nobody ever cares more about your story than yourself --and again, I am neither fishing for attention nor am I really complaining, even. It is a difficult story to sell and to read through, and I always knew the readership would be extraordinarily slim (and it did find it, and I am beyond uwwuuuuwuwu about it, truly ;;). I knew all of that going in. But I also won't lie that fandom timing was... horrendous --and it is even worse today. The fact that I have *barely* seen a hint of speculation on my dash from the latest N7 trailer does kind of say something as well. Sometimes, things come and go. And I suppose that's okay.

But what of The Empire of Preys? What of my deep care for the characters? What of my (I think, understandable) reluctance about jumping in to the next installments, knowing *for sure* that I'll be lucky if I graze 500 hits on Ao3? And that's me being beyond generous, honestly? I wish I didn't care about that, but I guess I do, a little. I also think it's understandable, wanting to work on things and see an impact from whatever you do --even if it comes from love and care. I'm glad I got to do it once, but do I want my literal masterpiece (I know the wording is strong, but I genuinely think TEoP is the best thing I ever did, counting my professional work that will be experienced by a *much* larger audience, and I have zero ideas how I could top it off conceptually given it felt like everything was being served to me in a trance-like state) being sandwiched between futanari porn and a story about a... certain main pairing being plastered absolutely everywhere and tending to suck all the oxygen in the room. No hate to either concept in particular, I actually like the coexistence of everything, it's part of what's cool about fanfiction! But, also. Also.

I suppose it is the curse of having a brain that works best creatively in the context of fandom --and daring to believe in the importance and necessity of creativity for its own sake, without monetary gain. But also, the very human entitlement thing of... not wanting to pour all of its life energy into a black hole.

It's complicated. I do not have a good answer as of now, at least regarding TEoP. I will keep on working passively on it as of now, once in a while, rediscovering it's genuinely really good from time to time and then moving away from it somewhat, until next time. I'm still doing Zelda stuff as of now, which... has been way more rewarding creatively, not gonna lie. It's a fandom full of lifeblood, with ideas bouncing around, people wanting to meet up, boundless creativity. I have written a micro-trilogy this year (it's here if that interests you), and, while in the same ballpark of attention than Halfway Home, it was undeniably more rewarding. I think I also needed to change mediums --I am currently experimenting with animatics, visual storytelling and extremely humble 2D animations, and I'm having a blast.

So... Yeah. I am fairly certain I will complete The Empire of Preys, because I love it deeply and I want to complete it, for its own sake if anything. But in regards to a timeframe... I'm not promising anything. It will happen. Not sure when! I'm following where creativity feels the more urgent at the moment.

But one day, this is a story that will exist, at the very least, and I think I'll love it deeply as well no matter how it's received. But I think I need a little bit of a positive feedback loop right about now, and so to work on projects that like... will be read. Or watched. Or played. Or experienced. And I'm not positive The Empire of Preys will be that for me, at least right now.

[ramblingsofwolves]

readers beware: this is the untagged and unfiltered vent blog of a schizophrenic RAMCOA survivor with polyfragmented DID, AvPD, NPD, and AsPD. we've gotten tired of being vague on our main blogs, so this is where the honest, graphic shit goes. there will be frank discussion of torture, programming, CSA, bestiality, and more.

it is up to you and you alone to decide how deep you go. you can choose to leave this blog with the back button if it ever becomes too distressing to read; we do not get to choose to leave our life without permanent and unwanted consequences. do not whine about the content of our blog: you were warned.

(big rants to theoretical questions that theoretical people might ask under the cut, along with tagging)

"how do you know you experienced RAMCOA? couldn't it just be your schizophrenia?"

severe, many-years-old triggers and obsessions that line up a little too conveniently with certain programs and forms of torture which are otherwise unexplained; decade-or-more old scars that are otherwise unexplained; over 200 headmates tied to obvious memories, traumas, and programming, including a strict hierarchy and an internal handler, that are otherwise unexplained; unending intrusive thoughts, panic attacks, and flashbacks that are otherwise unexplained; extreme childhood amnesia and nonsensical "memories" that are otherwise unexplained; need we say more?

"why the wolf theme?"

we're physically, bodily a wolf. it is a non-negotiable part of our identity and selfhood. it has ties to some of the programming we went through, but we want to try and separate and "reclaim" that piece of ourselves (even though we had little issue with our physical nonhumanity before learning we experienced RAMCOA beyond certain things that were already triggering to us, eg., the idea of being owned).

"why did you go digging?"

because it was constantly eating at us. we couldn't stop thinking about it. especially since, inexplicably, any mention of it--let alone details--could trigger us into severe dissociation and a panic attack, in spite of our lack of empathy (which would possibly allow anybody else to pass the emotions off as "empathy for the victim"). we're also way too nosy for our own good.

"you should talk to a therapist."

the programming we went through prevents us from saying anything to any sort of authority figures and makes us extremely paranoid of any kind of health professional, psychiatric or otherwise. beyond that, we're also anti-psych and disabled and have all sorts of extra medical trauma beyond the programming we went through which just makes us more wary.

whether it's the programming or the sincere experiences and beliefs we hold making us say this, we speak with as much honesty as possible when we say that talking to a therapist may not only be blatantly unsafe, but would only be counter-productive in our healing. at the very least, that's certainly how it feels, and we don't think talking to a therapist when we're completely terrified by the idea will do anyone any good. least of all us.

"what makes you think you know everything?"

we don't and we also never claimed that. bozo.

"why are you making this post? do you really think anybody will read this? you don't use any main tags or anything and you're not going to reblog anything except for from your own main blogs after all."

we're severely paranoid of people "finding out" and want to give ourselves as many outs as possible. there's also the possibility that we'll share this with someone who sincerely wants to know what's going on.

"why don't you use HC-DID instead of polyfragmented DID?"

because (A) the term was coined by an anti-semite, and (B) we feel the idea of "highly complex" DID (implying a hierarchy placing it above "complex"/polyfragmented DID) that can only be achieved via RAMCOA/OEA/your preferred term is... extremely misleading. everyone will react differently to different traumas based on their personal brain chemistry and the presence or absence of a support system. when it comes specifically to the "MC" part of RAMCOA, we much prefer programmed DID. it's more specific with its implications of potential functions and doesn't imply a hierarchy of "you NEED to have experienced OEA to have this complex of a system".

(hint hint: this is also why we generally dislike "C-DID" as a synonym of "polyfragmented" in general, since the common experiences of polyfragmentation could be experienced by any system. we personally believe that if the experiences of polyfragmention fits you, you should be allowed to call yourselves polyfragmented, regardless of whether or not you have DID. if C-DID were used as a synonym of "polyfragmented DID" specifically and denoted specific symptoms that were by-and-large unique to polyfragmented DID (and other forms of polyfragmentation were allowed to exist and be recognized), we'd be less opposed to it, but as it stands, that's just not how it's used.)

"why won't you tag the names of headmates?"

privacy, mostly. especially for the ones that actually experienced the programming, since every single one of them are thirteen and under, other than the internal handler and task killer (although, both of them are still 15 and under, too). we don't want any one of them to be pegged as evil for what they may have done, or to otherwise be directly targeted; ergo, no names that might be tracked onto other blogs or anything.

"what programs did you go through?"

we will not tell you specific programs for our own safety. we will say that our abusers attempted to apply a script and ultimately failed, leading to certain memory holders that remember bits of the script, but no part of the script actually implemented; however, we will not tell you which script specifically.

"what are your thoughts on ____?"

we are: - pro endo - pro spiritual plurals (and are spiritually based ourselves, at least for the current "main" collective) - pro sysmed as a term (no, it's not transphobic), but anti "traumascum" as a term - pro self-diagnosis - anti-psychiatry - pro bodily autonomy - anti forced recovery - anti "narcissistic abuse" as a term, same with any other "PD abuse" - profiction - pro para (no, not pro contact. pro para. we have multiple ourselves, some of which likely stemming from the abuse we went through) - pro-transandrophobia (as in the term and theory, not that the bigotry is "good") - anti-colonialism (and, by extension, pro-Palestine)

taglist

#intro post - this post #own posts - our own posts #self reblog - reblogs of posts from this blog #dragged in from mains - reblogs from our main blogs

#not rated - non-vent posts. consider these a rarity. #light - light venting. petty and vague and, usually, whiny. #moderate - moderate venting. less petty and whiny, but still generally vague. not as vague as light, though; may occasionally mention specific things (programs, traumas, etc) by name, but only sparingly. #heavy - not petty or whiny in the slightest. not vague, but not extremely graphic, either. non-descriptive, but doesn't beat around the bush. occasional caps and swearing; lots of emphasis in the form of italics and bolding. #very heavy - graphic and descriptive and direct. often with caps and lots of swearing.