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bisexual-horror-fan · 29 days ago

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"Summer Job." Bo Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher X FEM! Reader. CAM AU!

Okay so the amazing and fantastic @disastersareajoy sent in an ask for this but my box ate it, boooo, so this was their idea completely, I have been working on this on and off, I wanted it to be just right, and I hope everyone loves it. So people who have been following me for a long time, know that I love my slasher CAM AU, this is specifcally a crossover of this poly!Ghostface CAM AU! fic and these two Bo Sinclair CAM AU! pieces. So without much further ado, another Multi-May entry is here, let's get into it!

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Rating. Explict. Length. 3.8K. Bo Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher X FEM! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. CAM AU! Warnings: Sex Worker Reader. Sex Work Positive Fic. We Love And Support Sex Work And Sex Workers In This House ALWAYS. Established Relationship. Crossover. The Timeline Makes Sense Because I Said So. Camming. Ropes. Restraints. Sex Toys. Overstimulation. Group Sex. Threesome. Foursome. Pain Play. Knife Play. Blood Play. Meanness. Praise. Degradation. Oral Sex. Throat Fucking. Swallowing. Vaginal Sex. Anal Sex. Reader Is Made Air Tight. A-Frame. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Begging. Dacryphila. Meantions Of CNC And Canon Violence. Teasing. Begging. Multiple Orgasms. Forced Orgasms. Squirting. Pet Names. Mocking.

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The sweet and familiar sound of the soft jingling bells rings out from your computer speakers, signalling another tip has been given, the wand vibrator that is currently secured to you by the cotton candy pink rope rig ratchets up another setting in response. The increase of stimulation makes you moan louder, a buck of your hips, the heavy sex toy bobs from the movement, the pleasure is mounting, your orgasm isn’t far off, you know it, and certainly the large viewer pool watching your stream knows it too.

You still play it up anyway, managing to get out between pants as you throw your head back, “Fuh-fuck, I’m so close-”

Next comes your favourite sound, one even better than the earlier one, the sound of multiple tips all being submitted at once, so that musical jingle becomes a mixed jumble, stumbling over it’self, overlapping as it tries to register them all. You had more than made tonight’s goal and were ready for the night to wrap up and finish strong with this one last orgasm, speaking of, you are right there, your body shivers as all the spooled tension releases, and you cry out, “Oh God, I’m cumming-”

The pleasure washes over your sweat slick frame, back arching as your clit throbs against the unrelenting head of the toy, a roll of your hips again, as you ride the wave. The webcam running is picking up every single detail of your body, the jiggle of your tits, the shiny mess on your thighs, and your gorgeous parted lips gasping for breath. When your climax has run its course you let the toy continue to buzz, drawing out some delicious reactions of yourself in the throes of overstimulation, your fans always seem to love that kind of thing. You moan weakly, brows furrowed and form twitching, saying, “Shiiiit, to-too much, ah, stop-”

Another tip comes in, a strong pulse pattern clicking on, and you whine, “Guy’s please, please! We’ve been go-going for sooo looong-”

You lean forward, hand between your legs, you turn off the wand, body sagging in relief as the humming motor is cut off. You breathe a sigh and snatch up a pen and your sticky notes, you write down whoever the last tipper was and said, “Sorry, I’m making a note, and you’ll get a free action next stream, mkay?”

The person in question responds in the chat with extreme enthusiasm and thanks, they assure that is fine by them, thank God. You disconnect the wand from the tip options for the night and remove it from the rig with ease, setting it down on the bed beside you.

You lean back, sitting up on your knees again, stretching your arms above your head, showing off your body wrapped in the gorgeous rope set up you careful wound around yourself earlier. “Now, before we end, I have some exciting news for everyone.”

You watch the chat light up in response, and you begin to inform, “Summer vacation is starting next week, and I have some BIG plans for my time off, but don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging.”

A big smile as you say next, “Me and everyone’s favourite boys are going on a road trip for a few weeks, all the stops are planned around collabing with some other big names on this site, so get ready for a real slutty summer.”

You drop the graphic you put the finishing touches on earlier into the chat, the cute summer-y themed calendar that lays out the dates and times for the streams and who you would be doing them with, spanning over nearly the first month of your break from college. To say the chat explodes is an understatement, all sorts of exclamations, and the remainder of the stream is devoted to answering a few questions; yes there will still be a few solo streams, yes you were excited, yes you had met with a few of these people before but haven’t filmed with them, this would be the first time for all of them to see.

The night closes out with a final wave of farewell tips, as you signed off with a smile and a wink, proclaiming you will see everyone soon, you felt amazing. You end the stream, close the window and then fall back onto the bedspread, arms out at your sides, tired but happy, you’d get up and clean yourself up in a minute.

You were two years deep into your camming career by this point, that first stream of Billy and Stu’s you guested in on feels so long ago, you still joined the duo’s cam shows very regularly but had branched out to do your own too, the demand was there, why not capitalize on it? Did you intend on doing it forever? Not really, you were being very smart with your money, but for the time being it was hot, fun, and more than paid for everything in your life. Speaking of Billy and Stu, the pair of them had their own cam show that night and also announced the vacation plans.

Your social media accounts were a buzz in the lead-up to your trip, in all the time you’ve been doing this is the most engagement you’ve gotten by far, the hype was apparently real, many of the comments not just for you, but towards the people you were going to be meeting with.

The semester has ended, vacation has begun, you and the boys were packing the car, ready to get on the road. You post a picture to the Instagram tied with your camming account, in it, you are in sunglasses and a sun dress, able to see Billy and Stu shunting bags into the trunk behind you over your shoulder, the caption being, “Hitting the road!” with a tag to who was first on the list.

You finish posting it as Billy closes the trunk and Stu makes his way over, an arm thrown around your shoulders in such a way it makes your sunglasses slip down your nose, he asks, “You ready for about a month straight of getting every hole you have filled?”

Only then do you realize he is filming a short video to post with his phone in front of you both, you look over the frames, leaning more into Stu’s touch as you declare excitedly, “God yeah, I am dying for it!”

It is then that Billy steps into frame as he says, “If we don’t get on the road sometime today, then your holes will remain woefully empty, so come on.”

Stu and you break down laughing, rushing out a, “See you soon!” Right before he stops recording, and then you are all piling into the car.

The road trip was very fun, many pictures taken, in and on the car in varying states of dress, or in semi-public risky places, always a favourite. As well as teaser videos posted, content filmed in hotels, but between that? Tons of good food, music, conversation and everything else one would want in a road trip centric vacation, and it is just what you needed.

You three are enjoying yourselves immensely, glad for all the time spent without having to worry about classes or usual every day bullshit that simply falls away when on vacation, even if it is for work. Thanks to the meticulous planning on your part, you all remained on schedule and in a few days from your initial departure, you arrived to Ambrose right when you were all meant to. The three of you were much too busy talking to pay much attention to your surroundings, and soon you are in front of the house that was described.

When you get out, the man himself came out to greet you, with that crooked smile and open arms, Bo Sinclair, he was even more attractive up close than he was over the internet if that was possible. You were a pretty big fan, you were intimately familiar with his catalogue and could see why he garnered so much attention, from his accent to his body and the kinks he chooses to indulge in, he was unbelievably likeable.

He speaks first, “You made it! An right on time too.”

“We did! Man, I know you said the house was big-” You trail off looking up at it, “-but wow.”

“Yeah, more than enough space for y’all.” Bo assured. Casual small talk was made as the car was unpacked and everything brought in, the place was clean, you complimented him on this and got the response, “Was no small feat gettin’ it like this in time.”

“I bet a place like this takes a lot of up keep.” Billy said, and that got a laugh as he said, “You have no idea.”

Little did you know, the past few travellers who had been put to serious work to get the house in shape for your visit before they were offed. You think little of his comment or the wink he gave, you just laugh it off and the car in unpacked, you are shown the rooms you are going to stay in, and the first night is fun.

You have dinner, enjoy drinks out on the front porch, another picture is posted that night of you all enjoying the warm evening air, toasting the camera, the caption proclaiming, “T-minus 24 hours, get ready!”

And true to your word, exactly twenty-four hours after that the steam starts up, and the preamble isn’t much to speak of, you’d say it is about ten minutes of a check-in and talk about the road trip down and general banter about how well you, Billy and Stu get along with Bo.

So, important note to make, your boys can be very fucking mean, when you stream with them, it is a major focus, people love seeing them team up to wreck you, the comments claim that the sounds you make are very pretty and as Billy says your tears are even prettier.

A further important note, when Bo has someone on stream with him, he is also, very fucking mean. The first stream you ever watched of his, he had some girl, a total unknown, doing a CNC scene with him, he was exceedingly cruel to her, and it was very hot. He used duct tape to secure her in the position he wanted, he hurt her in a way that looked very real and fucked her brutally as she sobbed. You revisited that stream and watched many other similar ones too, Bo was a professional who took his job very seriously, he was so committed to whatever role play he presents that you get sucked in without fail, completely immersed, you could almost swear it was really real.

All of this meaning, getting the three of them together, you had been mentally preparing yourself to get essentially tortured for cash, you don’t know what they have in store, just it will be mean and unrelenting, and once you start? No stopping. You went to bed before all of them last night and Billy and Stu didn’t come up until you had passed out, you assume they took that time with Bo to plan out fully whatever they were going to subject you to.

Back to the present, you are sat in the middle, dressed in a lingerie set comprised of lace and mesh in your signature shade of pink, and confidently saying, “I can handle whatever you are all going to dish out.”

You regret those words in just over an hour.

With three of them, it is a lot easier to draw out the experience to the nth degree, taking every paid prompt possible and fulfilling it with ease and with their lead, you are being teased and edged into oblivion. It starts with lips on your neck and nipples being tugged and twisted while another has a hand between your thighs, and it makes you squirm and laugh with a smile, light and playful.

Leading to this, a wide plug in your ass and the pretty pink fabric is sweat soaked and plastered to your skin, with Stu between your legs. He has his lips wrapped around your straining clit, sucking harshly, two fingers stuffed into your drooling hole, curling them over and over, until you get close, then? He just pauses. Stu doesn’t take his fingers out, he doesn’t remove his lips, he just stops until the edge backs off, and then he gets right back to it. The begging is near constant from you, as if you were on autopilot.

Billy is reading out suggestions from the chat and throwing in his own very degrading commentary, but where is Bo? He stepped away for a moment, you have no clue where, your brain is sluggish, trying to parse through everything through the haze of pleasure and failing.

“Hey sweetheart, how you holdin’ up?” Your head turns, looking up, and there is Bo, you are panting, in between edges, Stu is being the most still you have ever seen him, and your throat is dry as you force out, “Ba-bad-”

“Oh? Why bad?” He asked as he sits down next to you on the mattress, you say, “Wanna, ahh, cu-cum, so muchhh, puh-lease, please-”

Bo hums, a hand falls to your knee, and he squeezes as he says, “Ah, but ol nasty there Stu won’t let you, right?”

Asshole, as if it is up to Stu, like he is the one thing holding that back, like the three of them haven’t all been taking turns to edge you stupid and reminding you over and over that you aren’t getting off any time soon. You wouldn’t dare say any of that, so you play along, you nod shakily in agreement, and Bo hums in mock sympathy before he says, “Well maybe you jus’ need to be a lil more patient.”

You whine openly, head tipping back, and Billy laughs, “Oh, come on, it’s only been an hour, you can take a lot more than this.”

Stu hums as he starts up again, your thighs tense, and you want to cry, it is a miracle you haven’t yet, as Stu’s assault continues, a wrecked moan tears out of your throat, and it is like Billy can read your mind, he speaks up, “Hey Bo, wanna see if you can do something to make her cry? People are asking for it, and once she starts, it’s hard to stop.”

“Give me a lil time, I think I got just the thing.” Bo assures and that is when he shows you, and the audience, what he stepped away earlier to get, and it is an item you know well. The three of you engaged in a lot of knife play, you’ve seen Bo do the same in streams, so naturally him pulling this out makes sense, you shiver from the sight of the large blade gripped in Bo’s hand.

You are getting close, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to creep up at this point with how long they have been working you over, you want to ask what Bo is going to do, but your mouth is refusing to cooperate.

“I really like this-” Bo says as a finger hooks under one of the shoulder straps of your lingerie, he snaps the band and says, “-s’ real nice of you to show me your collection and let me pick what ya wore, this one’s my favourite.”

You are trying to focus on his words more than Stu’s devastating mouth and fingers, but it is proving to be a massive challenge. Bo asks, “Know what I’ve always wanted to do with it?”

“Wha-what?” You gasp out, teetering on the edge, and Bo brings the knife down, he uses the tip of the blade to gently trace along your nipple before; he twists his wrist, and he hooks it and then brings it up in one smooth motion, splitting the cup completely open as he says simply, “This.”

At that moment Stu stops again, leaving you dangling on the edge, and you cry out in protest at both actions, at being denied again and Bo ruining your lingerie. You exclaim, “What the fuck, Bo!?”

His hand that isn’t gripping the knife comes to your face, gripping tightly, “I can take whatever y’all dish out, ain’t that what you said earlier?”

Strong fingers squish your cheeks and you half want to spit in his face, instead you nod as much as you are able, leading Bo to say, “Then stop fucking bitchin’.”

Stu laughs around your clit, and you jerk from the feeling, Billy is chiming in that you should “Shut up and stop complaining.”

And God, they are assholes, all of them. Bo lets go of your face. You are made to bite your tongue as Bo cuts the other cup to match, fingers dip in, and he rips both of them wider, the two slits he made frame your hard nipples beautifully, but he doesn’t stop there either. Cuts are made on the hips and the crotch of the outfit had been tugged to the side for all of them to work, and he cuts that free too.

He has extreme control with that knife, so you know that every small cut is purposeful and happens because he wants them to, all those little cuts are toys with, blood is spread, smacks on your outer and inner thighs and on your tits, as the edging continues. Stu’s jaw has gotten tired, he has taken over chat duty, so Bo has brought out a toy, it isn’t even heavy duty, it is a small bullet vibe given to Billy to use. It is embarrassing how such a tiny toy is able to devastate you in your hyper sensitive state.

The edges are coming very quickly, you are practically babbling, trying to beg for relief, the fifth edge with the bullet vibe has the tears welling up, Bo has been watching your face intently, he speaks up, “Oh there you go, c’mon, everyone wants to see it, be a good girl an’ cry already.”

Billy and Stu join in too, encouraging you to cry, Billy presses the vibe tighter onto your straining clit as he says, “Yeah c’mon little cry baby-” and Stu is chanting, “Cry, cry, cry, cry-”

You are right there and unable to hide it your moans and the shuddering of your overly tense body tattles on it, so Billy stops before you can cum again, lifting the buzzing toy from your writhing body. That next edge is so hard, so close and Bo talking to you in your ear in that deliciously low tone makes you shudder, and the dam breaks, tears spill down your cheeks, you sob. “There we go, tha’s what we’ve been waiting for!”

Turns out they decided that no matter how hard you begged or how long it took, they wouldn’t let you cum until two things happened, one, you cried and two, you would cum only when all your holes were filled. So since the first goal was reached, now they are going to get to satisfy themselves and as soon as your holes are filled up you are free to cum as much as you want.

You are rambling out thank yous on and on as the remaining clothing is stripped, and you are repositioned onto your hands and knees, Bo’s dick is being shoved into your mouth to shut you up. His head tips back with an amble moan, “Ever since I first saw you taking turns choking on these two-” a vague gesture to Billy and Stu who are gearing up to fuck your other two holes, “-I was dyin’ to get in here myself.”

Stu slides home in your cunt with a pleasured sound of his own and Billy removes the plug, making you moan against Bo’s shaft, extra lube is applied, and soon you are taking him in your ass.

Now trying to work out a good pace is difficult, but manageable, you have never felt so full, being made to choke on dick while getting your lower two holes totally demolished in a phenomenal way.

You are very familiar with the phrase be careful what you wish for, those words were nowhere in your brain today, because if they had been, you might have rethought how much you were begging earlier.

The first orgasm you experience, is Godly, the pleasure is blinding, and it is all you can do to not collapse at the first wave crashing into you, it also arrives with some of that wonderful degrading praise delivered from Bo, “Oh there you go, yeah, enjoy it, you earned it sweetheart.” It is one of the best you have ever had, and none of them stop, work you through it amazingly until it is over, and then beyond.

You were expecting some overstimulation, sure, but you were not expecting them to take every time you begged for an orgasm as a challenge to meet, the orgasms are forced from you, each one celebrated by at least one of them with some hot and nasty comment. When Billy is held deep into your ass as Stu pressing a toy to your clit as he pounds your g-spot gets you to squirt like a fountain, he sounds nearly gleeful as he calls with that classic grin of his, “What a fucking mess.”

Turns are taken, Billy finishes in your ass first the mess of his cum flows freely when he pulls out then Stu switches to your mouth making you taste yourself, letting Bo have his turn splitting your cunt apart. “God, you’d think she’d be worn out from how hard you’ve been going on her, but she’s still so tight.”

High praise you muse somewhere in the back of your mind.

Minutes later, Stu reaches his end next, he holds deep, hands on your head as he grits out, “Take it.” He makes you swallow, he makes you desperate for breath to the point it has you sucking down air when he pulls out. He of course is laughing over it, the dick is lucky you love him so much.

Throughout this ordeal, orgasms are continually ripped from your tired and sweaty body, tears flow freely, you cry on and off, unable to help it because it feels so fucking good, at one point, you are so totally overwhelmed that you gasp out, “Sto-stop, cah-can’t take it anymore-”

That earns a laugh from Bo, he has you on your back, knees to your shoulders, a full on mating press as he tells you, “Nah, you begged to cum, we ain’t stopping till you feel every fuckin’ one you asked for.”

You sobbed again over the sound of the tips still coming in, helpless to do much of anything until they deemed you “done.”

#Multi-May #Multi-May 2025 #Bo Sinclair x reader #Poly!Ghostface x reader #Poly!Ghostface x you #Cam AU #slasher x you #Slasher x reader #Billy Loomis x you #Billy Loomis x reader #Stu Macher x you #Stu Macher x reader #MWAH #ENJOY THE FILTH #Hope it was worth the wait!

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definitionsfading · 5 months ago

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I know you guys are sooooooooooo invested in my reclamation of childhood era nostalgia re: getting to play the Petz PC games again, so here's a lukewarm update after my last post about it 😌 (now complete with unrelated family drama)

on WEDNESDAY we went to see Mimi for lunch and a belated Christmas exchange, and barely after we'd eaten and given her the present (a real gold necklace with some words from scripture engraved on it), my mom initiated a Huge fucking conflict about a broken diamond ring Mimi gave away to my 20-something-year-old female cousin, right. mom apparently expressed interest in wanting this ring several years ago or something and Mimi gave it to cousin Lauren when she gave me a gold horseshoe ring back in 2021. shit got so intense about this that my mom had Mimi scream-crying and hysterical because it just kept getting worse when we found out she gave my deceased Papa's vintage Corvette to her other daughter with nobody's input lmfao. it was like living in a melodramatic episode of Succession for about two hours there.

ALL THIS TO SAY, the drama was insane and amidst the tears and screaming and theatrics I only barely had an hour to sneak into the computer room to see if the old machine was still working before we had to leave. come to find out (!!!) my grandparents replaced the super vintage tower with a Windows XP machine around 2010, something I didn't previously remember, and the old disconnected Windows 95 tower was still sitting in the laundry room inside a box. it had been Windows 95 all along and not 98 like I thought. go figure.

anyway, I brought the Windows 95 tower home with me even though I have no damn cables or monitors to try and get it running, and the plan is to return to Mimi's house [BY MYSELF. NO MOM ALLOWED] in the coming weeks/months to get the old photos off the XP system for her before bringing the entire system home with me so I can finally, at long torturous fucking last, play my goddamn Petz games. because Petz 5 will happily run on Windows XP, I went ahead and ordered secondhand copies of Catz and Dogz off eBay. they should be here by Valentine's day.

I have very minimal desk space in my room at the moment so I've cleared off a work bench in the garage to set up the Windows 95 machine and the original monitor once I obtain it from Mimi's house, lol. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it to even boot up but we'll see if there's anything on there, and if not, I'll probably just eventually donate the tower to a local electronics recycling company. as for the functioning XP tower, I need to source a flat screen monitor and then THAT one will be able to get set up in my room on my glass vanity table by the window for some cozy nostalgic gaming, god willing.

I have to arrange with Mimi's schedule because I've agreed to help her clean out her office in exchange for the XP system, but we get closer every day lmfao!!!! life got me playing the long con right now but that's okay. I've waited 15 years to play this game again, I can wait another few weeks.

#tag for my ongoing petz nostalgia saga #and other computer related moves being made in the meantime #I forgot to clarify that Mimi lives an hour and fifteen minutes away from us (rip) so this complicates traveling and going to see her

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rontra · 2 years ago

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Tell us about they/them lesbian Cinder with text to back it 👀

askfbhs okay but this post is like 2000 words long

statement one: doing a reading of a text, and then using that analysis to draw a particular conclusion for one's own enjoyment, is largely disconnected from the authorial intents that created said text. it's common for a piece of text to be able to be read in many ways, and for those readings to be able to used as supports for a multitude of conclusions. by no means should this post be framed as a comment on what "the canon text Means", because that is fundamentally not what we're trading in. we're not "proving" anything

statement two: cinder's character is complex, deftly written, and can be mined for a lot of meaning, much like all of rwby. there's a lot going on at all times in this show, and many parts remain to some degree an open question since the story hasn't finished yet. you can draw dozens of readings from almost everything in this work. by the same hand, some parts of this post were necessarily abbreviated for time lmao

statement three: cinder's relationship with gender SPECIFICALLY is genuinely textually interesting no matter where you go with it in the end, so if nothing else, at least enjoy Thinking About It... 😌

the core idea here is actually really simple hahaha. we'll take a scenic route though, to affix that idea into a more complete picture. a Pattern if you will

cinder is very strongly characterized by two linked ideas: the fear of being powerless, and the annihilation of the previous self that was powerless. the outward face of cinder's identity is very unstable because of the latter; a lot of conscious effort is expended trying to erase the cinder fall that once existed--the one that was at other people's complete mercy (and received nothing of the sort). cinder is always in "survival mode", trying to achieve some sense of personal safety and to avoid being perceived as weak and vulnerable. that terror and hunger nipping at cinder's heels is what leads into salem's claws--into a new grip of abuse, of course--because salem promises to solve it and give all the power cinder could want and more. yeah?

the most easy-to-track manifestation of those twin drives is, of course, where they intersect with a major piece of rwby's own thematic language: weapons! in rwby's language, weapons are closely tied to their wielder's identity--"They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us!", famously! (v1e2)

(...which also gives us very funny little unrelated nuggets like the eternally faceless and repressed "i was the machine, just following orders" winter having weapons whose names--if they even have any--we don't know. but that's a knowing smile for another day)

cinder was trained by rhodes to wield two swords, an idea that's later combined with archery into what we consider "cinder's weapon", Midnight. in the flashbacks of v3e7, Midnight is in its earliest and most ordinary form. this Midnight is made of normal weapon stuff like metal lmao and cinder uses it very effectively in taking down amber. HOWEVER, as soon as cinder lays hands on half of amber's power, this version of Midnight is thrown aside and destroyed: the pyre that destroys Midnight is used to demonstrate cinder's power and intimidate the Fang. after this—for the duration of the beacon arc—cinder instead uses glass to form a replica of Midnight. this "imitation Midnight" lasts until cinder is maimed by ruby atop beacon tower (and presumably medevac'ed by one of salem's other guys LMAO)

after 1) suffering this defeat, and 2) obtaining the rest of amber's power, cinder flat out stops using Midnight. beyond this point, cinder solely relies on magic to create an ever-changing roster of weapons as needed. with the completion of Autumn's power, so too is the killing of Midnight completed: as far as cinder is concerned, the "self" that was connected to Midnight no longer exists. the part of cinder's story and identity that was in Midnight has been buried and no one will ever know about it again. preferably everyone would just act like none of it ever existed and cinder has Always been powerful (and did NOT just get rent asunder by a teenager! please and thank you!)

the incremental deaths of Midnight really show the crutch that power is to make cinder feel safer and more confident, and the urge to destroy the past/the version of cinder who was not as powerful. once cinder has the maiden power, Midnight is unnecessary. it's also interesting to see that many of these magic-made weapons are visibly fractured, fragile, and expendable, which i'm sure in the Weapon Symbolism Show doesn't mean anything its fine 😭😂

anyway in this new era of relying completely on magic we start to observe another quirky aspect: rather than drawing on personal identity, cinder will frequently imitate other characters who were in some way "powerful" (or at least "impactful"). see: floating array and miló. cinder imitates people who left an impression of strength or skill; in endlessly chasing "power", cinder is nabbing pieces of what makes other people powerful and cobbling them together, to cover the "flaw" (heavy quotes) that is cinder's own identity.

without you, i am nothing.

still, what does cinder keep falling back on, like a habit you can't shake? the original! and when cinder defies salem's orders in v8, what do we finally see again, for just a brief moment? hey, i thought you were dead! for as much as cinder wants to pretend the past is dead and buried, it sure seems to be Haunting us: right there underneath the paint, as soon as cinder stops thinking about copying someone else, or is defiant of salem's control and has to rely on Just Cinder (god forbid!), there it is again.

"okay, that's fine," you might be saying, a few million words into this gigantic post, "but what does any of that have to do with cinder fall's gender". listen to me. this was all setting up very important context for the funniest thing about cinder fall.

like, anyone that's even half-awake while watching rwby will notice the huge differences between how cinder acts and looks in the beacon arc VS how cinder has acted and looked Since Then. beacon arc cinder is smooth and in control and mature and dangerous. and of course, she's feminine. i've seen people outright call this incarnation of cinder a femme fatale! and i guess i can see why; she has mystery, beauty, a little bit of seduction to sway people. she plays manipulative games. and of course, she's dangerous. cinder in the beacon arc is exceedingly threatening because of how good she is at being the underdog; when she has to use cunning instead of brute force and scheme her way uphill in both directions, she kills it! literally!

--hey that was a lot of she/her all of a sudden. hmm. let's talk about women (audience cheers) NO I MEAN. evil women (audience cheers louder)

cinder's life is strongly marked by two women in particular: the madame and salem. both of them exert an immense amount of power over cinder; when we talk about situations where cinder has been powerless, these two people are the ones that spring to mind. in cinder's world, which is very coldly divided into people who Have Power and people who Do Not Have Power, both madame and salem very much Have Power. they have maybe the Most Power It's Possible To Have, by cinder's math. this also makes them Very Important figures for our examination, because what they are will reflect back onto cinder's malleable self.

madame and salem are both feminine, both older, both powerful; examine these two and suddenly you start seeing the pieces being stolen. the mature shade of red the madame wears. salem's levelheaded control paired with her distance and mystique—(trying not to say "and her cleavage")... v8e6 even places explicit focus on the sound of the madame's high heels as a herald of incoming danger.

their bearing, their ways of navigating the world, the way they dress. their… oh my god… their gender presentation!!!

the thing about cinder fall is that the mimicry of power does not stop at weapons. this is a Pattern that extends BEYOND merely "doing the floating array trick". the entirety of beacon arc cinder, including gender presentation, is mimicry. because in cinder's mind at this point, the most powerful thing a person can be is a mysterious older femme.

to cinder, ideas traditionally associated with femininity, specifically the femininity of adult women, are explicit markers of power and threat; and these things can be picked up and worn and imitated. these things can be performed. but there's never a sense that cinder owns these things or is particularly attached to them (i mean, beyond cinder's conception of Power). furthermore, cinder doesn't fully understand how these two women operate, and (being far younger) lacks the experience to fully embody them.

(--the way cinder handles emerald in particular is very revealing of this disconnect, as the dynamic shown as early as v2 is a clear attempt to wrangle her the way salem does her own minions; but cinder fails to understand and execute the crucial part, which is tapping into what emerald actually wants. because cinder, living in their own "survival mode" priority list, can't understand or relate to what emerald wants from them. the attempts made to replicate salem's affectations only push emerald away and strain her loyalty.)

but goddamn if cinder doesn't think power is stored in the gender!

it's interesting, then, that after the beacon arc blows up and a huge L is handed to Femme Cinder, they gradually drift further and further away from this; the illusion has broken. in lockstep with their drift from salem—cinder's exile, then intentionally testing the ice to see how far salem will let them stray—the further they go, the more they assert themselves, the further they also stray away from those "markers of power" associated with salem and madame. in the era of the blink-and-youll-miss-it flash of cinder's own identity, of Midnight, we also witness the ever-increasing straying from the performance of femininity that the beacon arc cinder clung to. huh!

so, let's see, we have a very intentional and consistent streak of cinder attempting to annihilate their own identity and replace it with something else (something strong) (something no one can hurt); this theme is visible both in their armory and wardrobe. cinder is terrified of who they'll be without these masks, because that person has been victimized, betrayed, and abused by every person who had power over them. the solution cinder has in their mind is to Become So Powerful that no one can do that to them ever again, no matter what they have to do or sacrifice to get there. and a lot of that conflict is slathered in this layer of Gender Stuff! this is INTERESTING!!!! no matter what people take from this post i at least hope you can find this aspect interesting, especially if you hadn't really thought about cinder's mimicry before...

anyway the very Gendered tension in their character comes bearing down twice as hard when considering that madame verbally invokes ideas about "being ladylike" while she's abusing them, reinforcing this mental link between Being Ladylike = Having Power, Not Being Ladylike = Not Having Power (= being crushed under the (high) heel of those that Do). cinder's femininity is ungenuine at best and coerced at worst; in my opinion, that much has been gestured at pretty overtly

from here, you can draw whatever conclusions from it that you please; e.g. would cinder LIKE to claim femininity for themselves in a genuine way, or would they not? do they feel attached to it, or not? in the Midnight glimmers of cinder's own real human self—the one they try so desperately at every turn to kill and bury, by directly coöpting pieces of other people they think are powerful—what do you see there? that's a conclusion for you to draw, of course…

you've no doubt twigged by the pronoun heehoos happening in this post that i'm quite fond of they/them cinder lol. i like my non biney lesbian struggler (the lesbian part Specifically i don't have a whole post locked and loaded for, that's just because im a lesbian and i like it<3). i rotate the disconnect between cinder and their identity and their performance in my mind and go "huh! your gender is Lesbian. congrats sweet prince" well anyway i think salem shoulda been cool FOR ONCE and offered to give them top surgery when she was gluing them back together after beaconSJHBHBNSDHB

of course, there's a myriad of ways to take this and make it serve whatever gender and pronouns headcanons you like, so i'm not saying it definitely means exactly what i personally like. like i said at the start, i'm not interested in "proving" anything or whatever. i'm just observing that it's interesting, and then im applying it to beef up headcanons i personally like... so you do as you will, too 😌

but to me, no matter what final conclusion is drawn, gender is a performance and cinder fall is trapped on the stage! goodluck up there!

#is this the 2000 word cinder gender post. im gonna scream

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wraaronsen · 5 months ago

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✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ Count Aronsen Dracone

His mind Being Aronsen is stepping into an infinite room with no walls, only holes that open beneath your feet. Self-reflection does not come easily and gives him confusing results, so he simply avoids it completely. Why his mind is a mess of disconnected, unrelated memories is just a reality he accepts to keep from madness.

Always on the present. It gave him an edge in battle, wielding his full focus until it felt like time slowed but he did not. Never think of the befores, or even the afters. Advance, attack, claim, devour. The wicked rush of battle or a great hunt was his only driving desire, the pleasure in the moment of grabbing death by the roots to become one of her favorite reapers.

It was too much, to be released from the scourge link, plunged into awareness. The hunger was still there, but now with horror and shame. And there is no worthy soul to save, the voice inside his head whispered. His family was almost all massacred back home. His existence was shame, a perversion of honor. The first-born son should have been there to protect them. This catastrophic failure ripped into him so viciously he let the thing left underneath to blink alone, abandoned and hungry. Rejected by nearly every living and unliving thing, his loneliness transformed into bitter mania over years of isolation and hostility.

"This is what I am now. This bloodline needs a monster, to finish it off. I'll be our last legend."

His body There is a dangerous stink of time manipulation pouring from his mannerisms, the speed of his movements. His body is unnaturally large, skin a translucent white that reveals too much of his massive muscles. Always a brute, Aronsen has all the advantages from birth elves dream of, and more. His is a haunting beauty, carrying the grace of his elders in a sculpture of elven idealism able to charm prey and enemy alike. In undeath, he looks every part a specter from a past long forgotten with old silver and obsidian armor. Bloody bandages wrap crudely around his chest, wounds that heal slow as he keeps falling from the light's grace. There is still a shroud of ghoulish grime about his demeanor, his unnerving gaze. A hairless head save his brows accentuates his formidable skull, often the personal hammer of death when smashing his to another.

Where is he now? The unnerving displeasure of meeting him is rare but not impossible. Keeping to the Dracone estate and neighboring ruins, he keeps the legends and troubles of the Ghostlands fresh to the unlucky travelers that fate abandoned to his cruel appetite. His brother Heathcliff covers up his crimes to various degrees of success despite their bitter feud. The two brothers share the ruins of their family castle with a tense tolerance often edging towards conflicts.

Beware catching him in his own domain…

#wra

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pearlsinmyhair · 2 years ago

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𓇢 a gasp, then silence.𓇢𓆸

synopsis: how mo’at discovers that neteyam is gone.

warnings: angst. cannon character death, non-cannon interaction and reaction. brief mention of death during childbirth and the battle of home tree.

word count: 600 (it’s itty bitty)

an: i’m so sorry. i had to do it.

𓇢𓆸

mo’at learned quickly that the way of eywa was not fair, nor was it kind.

she had watched innocents suffer. saw children crushed by the home tree when it fell. saw mothers in labor lose their strength.

but after all her suffering, she had prayed to the great mother to at least spare her grandchildren. she knew eywa could make no promises, just as much as she knew that many others had prayed for the same for their own loved ones.

who was she to demand mercy? to take it away from another? to dare question the great balance?

from the moment she had held neteyam, a part of her whispered doom. he was so light, so precious, so very fragile in this dangerous world.

he grew, of course, a strong shell growing around his kind heart. she hated to see him hide it away, but she knew it was there. she had watched him rise to the occasion of war with concealed fear.

she had lost her husband and a son-in-law to the sky people. she couldn’t bare to lose her grandson.

so when they flew to the distant islands of the metkayina, she thought they were safe. surely no one would find them amongst thousands of villages.

she should have known better than to hope.

𓇢𓆸

she awoke sweating and breathless, wheezing as she processed the empty room of her tent.

she had seen blood behind her eyes, a wail of pain and sorrow, a heart beat stopping.

eywa’s messages were always cryptic. but this was easy to piece together.

it was more mo’at’s own will that prevented her from fully interpreting it.

the silence of her hut beat against her ears, so very unusual.

she was used to it being full constantly: of injured, of children, of voices dead and alive.

now, there was nothing. as though the great mother was giving her time to grieve.

she refused.

she pulled on clothes quickly, sliding her blade into its sheath as she set out for the tree of voices.

mo’at may have been old, but she knew the path well. eywa showed her some respect in clearing her path of creatures, allowing her to walk without worry.

the forest was quiet, too, sensing the lose, sensing her rising fear and sadness.

she approached the tree slowly, bringing her queue over her shoulder. her chest tightened with grief, with rage.

neytiri’s scream filled her ears.

she connected her kuru to one of the hanging strands.

it took a few minutes of meditation and searching, but soon she found him.

“hello, grandmother. is everything alright?”

“yes, neteyam. i just wished to see you.”

she did not dwell in the spritual realm of her grandson’s memories, lest she show too much emotion. neteyam did not know he was dead, and she would not try to tamper with that fact.

she disconnected her queue, and the titters of animals around her stopped.

she knelt there for what felt like centuries, hands clenched into fists in her lap. she felt like a child, wanting to scream and rage and wail and holler.

but she did none of those things.

instead, she layed her head against one of the many roots of the tree and wept.

neteyam’s breath in her ear, soft and steady.

in and out, went his lungs when he was born.

in and out, he repeated to himself when he completed his iknimaya.

in and out, he practiced as he prepared to leave his home for a strangers refuge.

in and out.

in and-

a gasp.

then silence.

masterlists.

this is completely unrelated to breath of venus if you were wondering. i just really wanted to write this. i think we forget about mo’at a lot in this fandom.

#mo’at #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam my beloved #my grief for this boy is immense #mo’at the grandmother #avatar the way of water #avatar #the way of water #jake sully #neytiri #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar angst #angst

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kryptid-writes · 2 years ago

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Chapter 11 - Desperate Times

In an act of sheer desperation, Y/N prays to the one man that is always listening.

(1.3k)

Sam’s head comes clean off with a swift slice to the neck, rolling to the floor with a sickening splat. His knees buckle as his body collapses on the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming around him. His wide, lifeless eyes stare at Dean, the pained look forever painted on his face.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Dean yells with a strangled cry, his body pinned against the wall by an invisible force.

“Wait your turn,” Lucifer taunts, admiring his work with a twisted smile.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” He shakes with anger.

Lucifer shakes his head and laughs like Dean had just told him the funniest joke.

“Sammy…” Dean whispers, unable to peel his eyes away from his mutilated brother. Tears stream down his cheeks, a look of horror and sadness pains his face.

“Now,” Lucifer steps over Sam with complete disregard for what he’s done. “you won't be getting off so easily.” He stops, just inches away from his face.

“I know what you’ve been doing with my lover,” he growls, his irises glowing their intimidating red color. He caresses his cheek with the knife, just teasing the skin.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” He presses the blade just above his cheekbone, leaving a deep gash.

Dean grits his teeth, refusing to show his pain to Lucifer.

“Did you really think she could ever love someone like you?” Lucifer seethes, his face twisting with anger. “She is mine!” He growls. His hand flys up to grasp Dean’s neck, squeezing with an unrelenting force.

Dean desperately gasps for air, his eyes bulging and face turns a cherry red. “FUCK… YOU!” He chokes out, spitting directly in his face.

Lucifer growls and wipes the spit from his face in disgust. Without a second thought, he plunges the blade deep into his chest, taking pleasure in the gush of blood splattering his face.

Dean lets out a strangled scream that’s cut off by him choking on his own blood. His eyes widen with horror before going slack. His head drops forward and his body hangs limply.

“Pity, the game was over so fast.” Lucifer frowns. He releases his hold on Dean and his body slumps to the ground, twisting in grotesque ways. He crouches to his knees, looming over the bloody scene. “But it was fun while it lasted.” He smiles, admiring the gruesome scene he created.

-------------

“NO!” I shot up in my bed, screaming at the top of my lungs. Unrelenting tears stream down my face to the point my vision is completely blurred. My chest becomes tight, my breathing coming in more shallow until I’m full on hyperventilate. My wings curl around me, shaking.

After what feels like hours, I calm myself down enough to get a grip on reality and swallow down my panic. “They’re not dead. Not yet. I can feel it.” For once, my connection with Lucifer is a blessing rather than a curse. “There’s still time,” I reassure myself, calming my nerves.

Jumping out of bed, I grab the phone that Sam had given me for emergencies and dial his number with shaky hands .

“Pick up dammit. PICK UP!” I curse, pacing back and forth as the phone rings.

“It’s Sam, leave a message,” the answering machine says as if it were taunting me.

“We need to talk, NOW!” I leave a message, before disconnecting. I desperately dial Dean’s number, praying that he will pick up.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.”

“We need to talk immediately! I’m serious, you’re in danger!” I yell into the phone, before disconnecting the call once again.

------------------------------------------------------------

6 hours. It’s been 6 fucking hours since I first called. No response. What’s the point of leaving me a number if you wont even pick up the phone.

I twirl the cheap burner phone in my hand, taking another sip of whiskey straight from the bottle. In times like this, I don’t see the point of drinking from a glass, I’d only have to refill it countless times.

I clumsily dial Sam's number again for what must be the hundredth time today. At this point, the sound of his voice on the answering machine practically burned into my brain.

“It’s Sam, leave a message.”

“FUCK!” I yell, just barely resisting the urge to smash the phone on the ground to pieces. I down the last of the bottle, still not feeling as drunk as I would like to be.

I can’t stop my brain from running a million miles per minute, replaying the thoughts that have plagued my brain for hours. I’ve considered the possibilities over and over, every single course of action I could possibly take. It all leads to the same conclusion. I know what I must do.

Calling up Dean’s phone for the last time, I pray that he answers. The phone rings and the last bit of hope that I hold onto slips away as the familiar recorded message plays.

““This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.”

I sigh and pause for nearly a minute, unsure of what to say, before I bite down my fear and start talking. “Dean, I’m not sure what to say, but I want to leave you one final message. You and Sam are in serious danger. I had a dream that Lucifer kills you both, and I can’t let that happen. I know what I have to do,” I pause for a second. “I’m going to give myself over to Lucifer in exchange for your lives. I’ll ensure Castiel gets home too. This is my mess and I have to be the one to clean it up.” I fall silent, choking back the tears that threaten to spill.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I’m sorry it ends like this. I’m sorry for everything. I’m just… I’m so sorry Dean. I wish we never got into that stupid fight, I wish I could've told you how much I care about you, how you make me feel things I can’t explain.”

“Tell Sam, thank you for everything,” I sniff.

“I guess this is goodbye Dean, take care.” I end the call, the line goes dead with a long beep. I smash the phone on the ground, broken pieces shooting off in every direction, releasing just a smidge of the pent up frustration that I have been holding onto.

I wipe my eyes and put on my best poker face. I take one last look around at the bunker. It had once been an unfamiliar prison that I was confined to, but now, it’s like the home I’ve always desperately craved. A deep sadness radiates through my core as I give one last goodbye to my home and the only family I've ever had. I find my way to the exit, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind me.

Stepping into the outdoors, the sun shines high above the sky and thick foliage extends around me, as far as the eye can see. The fact that I am really in the middle of nowhere truly sinks in as I take in the world around me. The soft wind blowing in my hair is a feeling I had almost forgotten in my time hidden away in the bunker. The crows in the tall mossy trees caw and the mourning doves coo softly, perhaps the last sign of innocent life I'll see for a long time.

I close my eyes and pray to the one man that I know is always listening. “Okay Lucifer, come and take me. I’m ready.”

In a matter of seconds, the sound of wings flapping rushes through the wind and Lucifer stands tall before me. He’s covered head to toe in what I can only assume is Cas’s blood.

“Hello my love.” He gives me a cocky, but sweet smile. His eyes gaze into mine with an adoring look. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” He chuckles. “I always knew you’d come back to me.” He places a hand on the small of my back and in the blink of an eye, the world spins and I’m taken far away from the bunker.

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Tags: @roseblue373

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #lucifer supernatural #lucifer x reader supernatural #lucifer #lucifer x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #reader inse #supernatural #slow burn #love triangle #rt

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adobe-outdesign · 2 years ago

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Sentret line review

Sentret's one of those Pokemon that isn't talked about all that much, but is pretty cute. It's a completely abstract animal, kind of like a meerkat crossed with a flying squirrel/tanuki, with a series of rings being its primary visual focus.

Visually, I like how the central ring is paler, which helps it to stand out against the darker browns of the body. The little ^ mouth is pretty cute, and the tail helps get the idea of it being on watch across. Adorable!

Sentret's biggest issue is really just that it's not that memorable—the brown color looks nice but doesn't stand out that much, and the surveillance idea is fun but not really built upon. If it had a different evo that really doubled down on that theme, I think it might've stood out more in the long run.

Speaking of evos, I misremembered this line as Furret evolving into Sentret rather than the other way around, which goes to show you how much of a sense of progression is here (that being none). There are visual elements between the two—the stripes, the nose-less face, the colors—but they ultimately feel like two unrelated 'mons slapped together in the early beta. Alternatively, I could see them being a split evo to a single pre-evo of some kind.

But as a regular evo? Furret doesn't really build on any of Sentret's themes, so you just end up with a pretty mundane 'mon—especially as it's not even a fantasy animal anymore but very clearly a ferret.

Now don't get me wrong, I do still like Furret for one reason: it's heckin' cute. I do like the patterning of the stripes a lot, its little face and whisker-like markings are perfect, and it just looks very cuddly. I don't think the tips of the ears quite fit with everything else, but aside from that, there's nothing wrong with it visually aside from just being fairly plain and forgettable.

My suggested fix would probably be to do a regional form for these guys. The Zigagoon line (i.e., the other racoon-turned-elongated-creature-line-with-distinct-patterns line) did this with fantastic success, and I think it could work well here to spice things up.

I'm not entirely sure what you could do with these guys, but the rings almost remind me of a target, and Furret's shiny is this lovely pinkish-red that really pops nicely. Maybe a regional could be a poison-type that entices other Pokemon to hit them, poisoning their predators when they come into contact with them? Idk, just spitballing, but the point is these guys could use something. An evo's not out of the question either, though these two are already so disconnected that it's hard to figure out what direction you'd take another stage.

Anyway, overall: I love how cute these two are, and Sentret's a fun little mystery animal, but the two stages don't feel connected and they don't manage to stick out much. Here's hoping they get something in the future.

#sentret #furret #pokemon #pokemon reviews

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elliepassmore · 9 months ago

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The Whispering Night review

4/5 stars Recommended if you like: secret societies, monster hunters, urban fantasy, paranormal

The Luminaries review

The Hunting Moon review

Big thanks to Netgalley, Tor Teen, and the author for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!

This one picks up shortly after The Hunting Moon. Winnie and her family are officially Luminaries again (though her mom isn't allowed to hunt yet) and all the Luminary doors are open to Winnie and Darian. Despite this success, Winnie is pretty focused on figuring out what the Whisperer is and how to stop it. Thus far, only a handful of people really believe her, including Erica and Jay, who focus much more prominently in this book than in the previous ones. With their secrets shared between them, Winnie, Jay, and Erica work hard to figure out what is going on in Hemlock Falls and put a stop to it before the Whisperer destroys everything.

There are a lot of pieces to the big mystery that's been building since book 1. The basic questions being: What is the Whisperer and how is it stopped? And, where did Winnie's dad go and is her really a witch? If he isn't, who was the Diana four years ago? I actually really enjoyed how these puzzles played out in the book and how interconnected seemingly unrelated things turned out to be. The plot was particularly strong when it came to these things and I liked the twists and turns that happened.

Winnie's focus on the big picture and figuring it out with Jay and Erica did have her leaving her new friends--Fatima, Bretta, and Emma--a little ignored. I liked the other trio and wish we'd seen more of them in this book. As it is, Winnie spent most of her time with her 'old' friends and less time with her new ones, something she is rightly called out on. At the same time, while Winnie has some pretty big responsibilities on her shoulders, in some ways she felt much younger than in previous books, more like a middle schooler than a high schooler. It's particularly obvious when she's acting younger than her age when the rest of her peers are acting their age or older, so it definitely felt like a disconnect.

Another issue I had was that, in the first two books, Winnie wanted so badly to be a Luminary again but was also able to recognize the flaws in their society. It did create a bit of cognitive dissonance for her, and her family when they see it too, but I actually really appreciated a character in a secret society/culture recognizing the issues associated with it instead of just readily defending it at all costs. However, that awareness and critical thinking was completely missing from this book, to the point where I stopped several times throughout and wondered where that Winnie had gone. And there were definitely things in this book that should've triggered those thoughts/reactions in Winnie and her family. I wanted to see more come out of it and perhaps a bigger conversation about the Luminaries' blind spots, so it was disappointing to see those topics completely ignored.

Something I did like was getting to know more about the world of the Luminaries. In this book, something called the Nightmare Masquerade is taking place. This event brings Luminaries from across the world together for fun times and to showcase the strengths and innovations of the different families. Through this we get exposure to branches of the family from around the world. We also get a closer look at the Dianas (partly through the Masquerade and partly through Diana characters that we meet and get to know). I liked learning more about the global Luminaries, but I especially liked getting a more nuanced view of the Dianas. There are definitely Dianas who are terrible and up to no good, but we also get exposure to Dianas who quit or who genuinely believe in a more balanced view of things, which I appreciated.

Overall I enjoyed this book. I think the big mystery/puzzle was definitely a highlight of the book, but that characterization fell a little flat in some places. I will say that I did think this was a trilogy, and the summary still says it's the finale in the trilogy, but the book had an open ending that makes me feel like there will be more books, so I don't know what to make of that. If it is a trilogy, I'd have preferred something a little more closed for the ending.

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ratwavekayla · 11 months ago

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From the Gamemaker's Tarot: The Moon — Talk about a game you’re working on and what you’re struggling with.

In the kindest way possible, tell me about your struggles.

I'm usually working on a couple different things at once but for a struggle I have a silly story.

I have a game currently in development called Time Flies (previously called the Test of Time, unsure which will stick in the long run). It's about characters who've found themselves in the Other Place, an area outside of time, and are enlisted by the Time Barons to complete missions keeping time running so that one day they earn enough credit to be sent home.

I have the core system for the game written up (comboing some things from Invincible Sword Princess by Kazumi Chin, with Patchwork World by Aaron King influences and some other things in the mix). I think this seems pretty fun and engaging. I also have a lot of characters and the hub world setting written.

I need to test the system to see if it works like I'm imagining before I write out more of the game. To test the system I'd need to have an adventure to run (the book will include my multiple adventures in, in my mind). To have an adventure I'd need to write one and I'd need more of the game written before I could do that. But to write more of the game I need to test the system. It's stuck.

(also an unrelated but adjacent struggle here is it's been a bit since I've played a campaign (even a short one). All the stuff I've been playing recently has been one shot and so I feel a bit disconnected from what supports needed for a campaign in a book. I'm starting a campaign at the end of the month so that's a struggle that's getting broken.)

I have a overly ambitious solution here. I'm going to write an entire other game. I'll take the Time Flies System, use it in a one shot game, then I can play test that and I'll know the system is solid (or what needs changing) and can break the jam on writing.

Also I'll get another new book out of this that I'll release first.

Thanks for the ask!

#game design

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batsplat · 7 months ago

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i just remember something i meant to ask ages ago but why did Valentinos relationship with Honda end so bad like was he already wanting to switch bike for the 2004 season or was he happy to stay at Honda if things didn't go sideways. Cause I know why he left Yamaha for Ducati, i just haven't found definite sources and reasoning for his Honda to Yamaha switch. (also while i'm here I am going to start a vale career watch once I finish Marcs (upto 2019 atleast i dont think im ready for the honda dark years just yet so i'll make myself feel a little better by watching Vale who will also be joined by Dani, Jorge and Casey)) so excited to watch caseys 2007 season when I get to it, i'm Australian and i've always been aware of him i saw an advert of his on my train the other day so that was fun this ask got so sidetracked sorry, but i'm definalty going to go over your race rec tag but i'll probably just end up watching whole seasons cause i like having the context of things if something in a previous race is going to set up tension in later races.

okay, so this is MOSTLY covered in the sete post. which I understand is a bit long lol so I'll try and give the sparknotes version here. he was getting kinda miserable at honda! winning felt too routine... the way he frames it is that he didn't feel like honda particularly appreciated his efforts and thought it was mostly just their bike doing the trick, not the rider. he talks about it in this autobiography excerpt - he felt like nobody was really getting enthusiastic about his victories anymore, that it was just expected of him, and honda didn't really give a shit if it was him or someone else doing the winning. throw in the press who were also giving him a tough time in early 2003... it just wasn't fun anymore. valentino needs stimulation, he needs challenges, he wants to feel like he's part of a team and he wants to feel loved by that team (and love them in return). it's partly an ego thing and partly just... a question of passion. winning felt too easy and it felt like it had lost his meaning - like it was just a job

and y'know, yamaha did actively court them. which even valentino at the beginning was deeply sceptical of... even though he already felt dissatisfied with honda over the winter of 2002-03, switching to another manufacturer just felt like competitive suicide. he was also being courted by ducati - and even though it doesn't seem like he seriously considered that, until quite late in the season it looked like he might go any of three ways. iirc ducati was willing to throw a particularly obscene amount of money his way lol. but in the end, valentino felt that ducati would be much like honda in their disconnect from its riders and their refusal to listen to them (gosh, could someone not have read his own words back to him in 2010). yamaha was willing to build their whole team around him... and it was also just a special challenge. it'd be something new!! valentino isn't really built for easy domination I reckon, like he just has a trigger in his brain every 2-3 years that starts making him a bit restless idk

and yeah, I always think watching full seasons is well worth it!! there's some seasons that really live and die by the complete storylines, the sense of tension and build-up - especially the first half of 2003, 2004, 2006 and 2008 don't work anywhere near as well without context I reckon. and obviously I'm a massive casey fan... though I will warn you that for reasons entirely unrelated to casey, there is a massive drop-off in average race quality between 2006 and 2007 lol. I'm actually intending to go back over the winter break and fix up my casey race recs list because it was the first I did and quite casual when compared to the later ones - I thought I could do that one without consulting my notes, which in retrospect was a bit high on the hubris and I feel like I want to do that one justice. casey's actually already a really fun presence in 2006!! it doesn't show as much in the results because he'd often drop back or crash, but you see quite a lot of him - including the first few fights with valentino. he has a very pedro-like rookie season if you want a cheap and easy comparison... results are a bit worse on paper but the vibe is quite similar, including the spectacular early season form that trailed off for various reasons. but I do have a lot of fondness for 2007, even if it has some absolute howlers. qatar, mugello, catalunya, assen, donington and estoril the highlights as I recall. still wish we'd gotten casey/valentino with a continuation of the 2006 engine regs and just like. dogfights galore featuring those two... but on the plus side, I suppose laguna 2008 wouldn't have hit quite as hard if it hadn't been such a contrast to everything else happening during that time

#i think this is an ask i didn't save from my inbox into my drafts and then the website crashed #and then i never got round to actually answering. this has a tendency to happen #also man i do feel a teensy bit bad about the ask response rate but genuinely the inbox is so full.... lads it is intimidating #//#brr brr #motogpnewbie #//clt #batsplat responds #i actually have an odd fondness for early 2008 like i quite like them as comfort watches to put on in the background #just felt like such a time of possibility... all the aliens fighting it out. all these open storylines #the alien era wasn't all bad but it didn't quite deliver what it should have really #and there's no way around it that after 2008 it got progressively worse. 2009 is already a step down but after that...#i do feel quite bad like u get casey doing such a big open innocent grin at valentino and ur like. t minus three on laguna #i mean casey had already moaned a fair bit about valentino in the press by that point but it's like. it's a complicated vibe idk man #AND i will say i feel like journalists have overcorrected in talking about how boring the alien era is vs the current stuff #not many last lap battles but they had overtakes for the lead!! i promise u #//brr brr

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illumins · 1 year ago

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𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝑛. 𝑗𝑎𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛 (#⁰¹)

✦trope: angst, contemporary

✦wordcount: 2,011

✧second pov

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You stand there, alone in the dimly lit room, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the walls. It's quiet, too quiet, and the silence weighs heavily on you, a stark reminder of the emptiness that has crept into your life. This wasn't how things were supposed to be, not with Jaemin in your life.

Jaemin, with his easy smile and warm eyes, had once been your beacon of hope, the person who brought laughter and joy into your days. But now, that warmth feels like a distant memory, replaced by a cold void of neglect. You remember the early days of your relationship, the excitement of each meeting, the anticipation of each call. But as time passed, Jaemin's presence in your life dwindled, his calls became infrequent, and those meetings, once the highlight of your day, became rare, almost non-existent.

It's not just the physical absence that gnaws at you; it's the emotional disconnect that cuts deeper. You long for the days when conversations flowed effortlessly, when you felt seen and heard, when Jaemin's attention made you feel like the only person in the world. But now, you often find yourself staring at your phone, waiting for a message that never comes, or if it does, it's brief and perfunctory, devoid of the warmth it once held.

You've tried to brush off the feelings of neglect, telling yourself that Jaemin is just busy, that life sometimes gets in the way. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and it's growing, fed by every canceled plan, every unanswered text, every unreturned call. The worst part is the uncertainty, the not knowing where you stand, the constant questioning of whether you did something wrong, whether you're no longer important to Jaemin.

The clock ticks loudly in the background, marking the passage of time, a cruel reminder of how long you've been standing here, lost in your thoughts, wrestling with your emotions. The fight within you is a tumultuous one – part of you yearns to confront Jaemin, to demand answers, to understand why you've been pushed to the sidelines of his life. But another part is scared, scared of what those answers might be, scared of the possibility of losing him completely.

You realize that this cycle of neglect and inner turmoil can't continue. Something has to change, but what, and how? Do you confront Jaemin and risk it all, or do you continue to live in this state of limbo, clinging to the remnants of a relationship that once was? The decision weighs heavily on you, and as you stand there, you feel the walls of the room closing in, a physical manifestation of the pressure building within you.

༄

The morning light seeps through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. You're awake, but the fatigue of your emotional turmoil makes it difficult to start the day. As you sit up, your mind instantly drifts to Jaemin. His career, a dazzling tapestry of lights, cameras, and adoration, has always been a source of pride for you, but recently, it's become a wedge driving you apart.

Your phone buzzes with notifications, a daily reminder of the world Jaemin lives in—a world where every move is scrutinized, every decision analyzed. The fans, once a distant entity in your relationship, have become an omnipresent force, their opinions and demands shaping Jaemin's life. You've seen the toll it takes on him, the exhaustion in his eyes, the weariness in his voice. It's a side of him the fans don't see, the price of fame hidden behind the glamour.

You recall the early days of your relationship when Jaemin's rising fame was exciting, a journey you chose to follow and cheer for him from the shadows. But as his group soared to new heights, the time and attention he could devote to you diminished. The rare moments you do spend together are often interrupted by urgent calls, messages from managers, or the unrelenting pressure of his schedule. You've tried to be understanding, to be the supportive partner he needs, but the constant battle for Jaemin's attention has left you feeling like an afterthought.

The fans, ever vigilant, have not made things easier. Your relationship, once a well-kept secret, now faces the relentless scrutiny of the public eye. Social media is a minefield, each comment a reminder of how many people feel entitled to a piece of Jaemin's life. You've seen the hurtful comments, the insinuations that you're a distraction, that you're not good enough for him. Jaemin assures you that it doesn't affect him, but you can see the strain it puts on him, the way he hesitates before holding your hand in public, the careful distance he maintains when cameras are around.

Your friends have noticed the change in you. Over coffee, they voice their concerns, their words a mirror reflecting your inner chaos. "You're not yourself," they say. "You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who can be there for you." Their intentions are good, but their words only add to the cacophony of doubts in your mind. Are you being selfish for wanting more of Jaemin's time? Are you naive for hoping that things can go back to the way they were?

The internal battle rages on, a war between your heart and your mind. Your heart clings to the memories of the good times, the moments of genuine connection and affection. Your mind, however, sees the reality of the situation – the missed dates, the one-sided conversations, the growing gap between what you need and what Jaemin can give. The thought of a life without Jaemin terrifies you, but so does the thought of continuing to live in this state of emotional limbo.

As you ponder your next move, you realize that this can't go on. You need answers, you need clarity. The decision to confront Jaemin forms slowly, like a storm gathering strength on the horizon. You know it won't be easy, that it might change everything, but you also know that you can't continue to live with this constant ache in your heart.

༄

The day of the confrontation arrives like a storm, dark and inevitable. Jaemin has agreed to meet you at your place, a rare occasion in itself. As you wait, the room feels smaller, the ticking of the clock louder. When the doorbell finally rings, your heart races—this is it, the moment of truth.

Jaemin steps in, his face a mask of weariness. The usual spark in his eyes is dimmed, replaced by a guarded, cautious look. You can tell he senses that something is different, something is off.

"Hey," he starts hesitantly, his voice a quiet echo in the tense air.

"Hi, Jaemin," you reply, your own voice barely above a whisper. The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken words and pent-up emotions.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to voice the feelings that have been simmering inside you. "Jaemin, we need to talk. I can't keep going like this. I feel like I'm losing you."

Jaemin's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else – guilt, perhaps. "Losing me? What do you mean?"

You shake your head, frustration bubbling up. "You're never here, Jaemin. Even when you are, you're not really with me. It's like... it's like I don't matter anymore."

He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of stress you've come to recognize. "It's not like that. You know how crazy my schedule is."

"But that's just it, Jaemin. It's always about your schedule, your career. What about us? What about me?" Your voice cracks, revealing the pain beneath.

Jaemin's face softens, and for a moment, you see a glimpse of the person you fell in love with. "I didn't realize you felt this way. I'm sorry, I truly am. It's just... everything's been so overwhelming."

"Overwhelming for you, yes. But what about me? Do you have any idea how lonely I've been?" Tears well up in your eyes, emotions running high.

Jaemin reaches out, but you step back, needing the space to breathe, to speak. "I keep waiting for things to go back to how they were, but they never do. I keep waiting for you, Jaemin."

He looks down, the weight of your words settling on his shoulders. "I don't know what to say. I love you, but my career... it's just not something I can put aside."

"And what about us? Is that just something you can put aside?" Your voice is a mix of anger and desperation.

Jaemin's eyes meet yours, and in them, you see his conflict, his pain. "It's not that simple. You know how much this means to me, how hard I've worked for it."

"But at what cost, Jaemin? At the cost of us?" The question hangs in the air, stark and raw.

There's a long silence, one that stretches out painfully. Finally, Jaemin speaks, his voice low. "I don't know if I can give you what you need. I don't know if I can be the person you deserve."

Those words hit you like a physical blow, the final confirmation of the fears that have haunted you. Tears stream down your face as you realize the depth of your situation. This isn't just about neglect; it's about the fundamental differences in your lives, in your priorities.

Jaemin steps closer, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry...I never wanted to hurt you."

You wipe your tears, a sense of resolution settling in your heart. "I know. And I'm sorry too. Sorry that we couldn't make this work."

The room is filled with a sense of mourning, a grief for something once beautiful, now lost. As Jaemin leaves, the door closing softly behind him, you're left with a profound sense of emptiness.

༄

The door clicks shut, leaving you in a silence more profound than before. The remnants of Jaemin's presence linger in the air, a haunting reminder of what just transpired. Was this the right thing to do? The question echoes in your mind, but deep down, you know the answer. It was necessary, painful but necessary.

You move through the apartment mechanically, each object you touch a reminder of the moments you shared with Jaemin. The picture on the fridge, the gift he gave you on your birthday, the shirt of his that you loved to wear. It's like walking through a museum of a past life, a life that's no longer yours. One he took away with him.

He's gone. Really gone. The thought hits you like a wave, overwhelming in its finality. Your heart feels like it's been hollowed out, leaving a void that throbs with every beat. You sink onto the couch, the fabric still holding the faintest scent of him, a cruel reminder of his absence.

The days that follow are a blur, each one bleeding into the next. You go through the motions, but it's like part of you is missing, left behind in that last conversation with Jaemin. You see him everywhere—in the strangers on the street, in the melodies of songs you used to share, in the quiet moments before sleep when the loneliness is most acute.

Your friends try to help, offering words of comfort, distractions, but nothing fills the gap. Their concern is a balm, but it can't heal the wound that Jaemin's departure has left. They don't understand. They can't.

As the initial shock fades, a deep, aching sadness sets in. It's in these moments of quiet reflection that you begin to see the truth of your relationship. Were we ever really happy? Or were we just clinging to an idea, a hope of what could be? The questions are painful, but necessary.

You think of Jaemin, of the life he's returning to – a life of lights, cameras, fans. A life that no longer includes you. You wonder if he's hurting too, if he lies awake at night thinking about what was lost. Does he miss me? Does it even matter?

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⎙ authors note: this is my absolute very first time at an attempt on an imagine. So please do forgive if the pacing seems off along with emotional aspects of it. I'm used too lengthier works.

𔘓⁩ ᵗⁱᵖʲᵃʳ

#jaemin imagines #jaemin angst #na jaemin #nct jaemin #kpop ff #kpop #illumins #nct imagines

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thegreatyin · 1 year ago

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arcturus religious arc?? do say more

arcturus is funny because i haven't actually talked about them and the rest of the MCM cast on this blog very much (in fact i don't think i've even namedropped leus?) but they occupy so much of my brainspace. at least 1/339274th of my singular braincell. and lemme tell you that's more than any one OC frankly ever should

anyway! arcturus is religious. like. in the freak sort of way. in the they're Really Fucking Normal about this sort of way. they're so fucking normal right now. you can trust them. they swear. they are soooooooooooooo normal.

to elaborate further would be getting into MCM (and some hints of APF) lore as a whole, which i will do anyway, but under the cut because i like to pretend to respect my follower's dashboard scrolling time

so. the thing about APF and MCM is that they are two wildly different stories taking place at wildly different times in fantasy world history. but they are taking place in the exact same setting with the exact same shared fantasy world history.

this is the full mimue geographical world map, sans cities, primarily made for APF purposes but also featuring MCM's two (unnamed as of right now) focus continents off to the far left. MCM's story mostly spans the northern part of this duo. unlike what i affectionately refer to as "the APF plot triangle" (or eastern mimue, if you wanna get technical) country names are not synonymous with continent names and this is weirdly way more important to MCM lore than you might think.

this is an extremely rough mockup of a "mimue political map". green designating arboret, gold designating sanctus, blue designating requies... and brown designating medeis, with icy blue designating sulia. grey designates a cluster of various smaller border countries that definitely exist but i haven't worldbuilded them as of yet and don't really plan to go in-depth with them because they're mostly irrelevant to anything ever.

MCM focuses on medeis and sulia. and only these two. another crucial element of MCM is that everyone living there is completely disconnected from the other side of the world. the map makes them seem relatively close to arboret but in actuality it's way more like a mutual undiscovered new world situation. the folks in western mimue have absolutely no idea there's an APF plot happening in the first place, much less a cluster. similarly, everyone in APF is unaware of western mimue's existence and they all consider arboret to be the furthest edge of the known world (with just ocean laying beyond that). christopher columbus hasn't attacked mimue yet is what i'm saying.

however. they do share a world history, and setting, and magic system, and hey wasn't there a whole thing with eastern mimue and an angel blessing the world a thousand years ago that encompassed the entire planet in scope and you can go read about it on Ao3 if you feel like it right now?

y'know. that mildly significant part of mimue history that basically overturned the world forever and inspired a new religion in eastern mimue dedicated to following the angel like it's a god. that mildly important minor detail.

yeah, the MCM crew has no idea about any of that. but they were still affected by it. they just... interpreted it slightly differently.

magic in the world of mimue is an anomaly by mimian standards. something New and Weird and Unnatural. eastern mimue, with the context of the blessing angel as a bringer of peace and forgiveness and prosperity, treats it as something to be valued and admired.

western mimue does not do this. western mimue basically got blasted with magic with zero context of what was going on across the ocean, and everyone is CONFLICTED about it. some believe it's a favor from their gods, others believe it's a curse from those that scorn them, and still others shun anyone with "too much" magical ability in the first place.

by-the-by, completely totally definitely unrelated to that above statement, who are those western mimue gods?

well.

while those in eastern mimue have largely abandoned mimue's old ways and barely anyone has any real recollection of The Before Times, western mimue is desperately clinging to those exact same old beliefs. to its old gods, for lack of a better word.

no, seriously. who were these old gods?

dragons, of course. they're the primary subject of worship in western mimue- and a dying one, at that. in modern-day MCM (and by extension modern-day APF, though it takes place a long while before MCM) most of the median and sulian population haven't seen a real "godlike" dragon in centuries.

but they are still very much around. just. hanging out. being worshipped and served by mortals. fully sapient talking dragons held up as gods. are they actually? that's debatable, but also a debate topic that'll get you a lot of stink-eyes in sulia and some especially devout sectors of medeis.

speaking of.

arcturus! remember when this was an ask about them and not just a mimue theological history lesson? yeah i don't either. but lets discuss them anyway.

a lot of what y'all can know about arcturus (without spoiling MCM too much) can be found in their point-of-view story, wherein they admittedly don't spend a lot of time ruminating on their faith but do namedrop their draconic overlords at the very end all dramatic-like.

they briefly allude to their backstory though! that's something!

to keep an even longer rant about medeis political lore short, arcturus is in a position roughly equivalent to the president. their official in-universe title is Honored Exemplary, but in terms of real-world-analogy it's essentially just being president of the united states.

y'know. if the US was an expansionist empire with technology far surpassing anything else in the world and was also powered by a monster kept in the basement that has to be fed live sacrifices weekly or else the entire thing goes to hell. and also the president and the head of parliament had a weird toxic yuri situationship going on and it's probably inevitably going to end in either murder, a double suicide pact, or both.

so, just the US, really.

the funny thing about arcturus is that they aren't actually native to medeis. parallax is! they aren't. their original home was conquered early-on in their youth, and they've basically grown up surrounded entirely by median society and technology.

and they've adapted like a fish to water. they're like if the country mouse discovered cars exist and became an absolute sicko over it. meanwhile parallax is like if the city mouse just really yearned to be eaten alive by moss (neither of these fucks are normal or honestly entirely sane)

worship of the great big questionably-deity lizards was a BIG part of what little they can remember about their old life. and they're like. REALLY into it. they're the guy who insists you have to pray before every meal and spends an hour daily kneeling in front of their dedicated God Shrine asking for repentance. they latched onto dragonology like a dying man in the desert latches onto a water bottle. they're very very very big on punishing themself for the whole technically-being-a-serial-killer-by-feeding-the-basement-monster thing and they see religion as an outlet for exorcising their own sins. which is really normal behavior, im sure.

and also magic tends to be viewed in a really negative light by Hardcore Traditionalist People™ and they were raised in that environment and as a mutant with zero magical ability to speak of they were basically uplifted as a savior and a favorite of god from day one and they've got an absolutely horrible case of hyperempathy + religious savior complex because of it. so y'know. that's also a mildly important factor. just a tad bit.

TLDR;

arcturus does this. but like. for dragons.

#my official word of god statement as to why dragon worship USED to be widespread in east as well as west mimue #is because civilization in east mimue originally found it's way there from west mimue. but like. that was a LONG time ago.#long enough for both sides to forget the other existed sort of long ago. it's irrelevant to everything it's just a fun mimue trivia fact #think people getting to america via a land bridge and then when that went away they stuck around and got disconnected #it's basically that. but with fantasy human-adjacent guys #apf #mcm #a lot of the art im showing here has been posted before im just bringing it back for visual reference purposes #and also so this ask doesnt look TOO much like im just rambling nonstop for 50 paragraphs #fun fact in terms of design parallax and arcturus are both loosely inspired by like. priest clothing.#because the weird religious undertone train never stops apparently #long post #not on the dashboard but like in general. ur welcome arrow #this is why you people should never ask me for oc lore #but also please do #ask

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two-reflections · 1 year ago

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Been ill for the past week. Still not doing great now. (More info below.) But whatever, I'm back, though I'd be surprised if anyone noticed I wasn't around thanks to my queue. 😅

Haven't written anything for MMM because I haven't been awake for long enough each day to do much writing aside from bits for the upcoming exchange. I suppose I'm awake enough now to do a quick story audit, though. Click the Read More to see what I'm working on, and how I'm doing.

Writing Audit:

Aside from the first, these are vaguely in order of completeness/when they're likely to be posted.

TOP PRIORITY - Fic for the summer exchange. I have been doing some reading, and have put together an outline. I'm excited about this one, I really hope my giftee will like it. The problem? If I stick to this outline, the story will be several chapters long, and I'm probably not well enough to write all of it before the deadline. I wonder if it's acceptable to only put up a chapter or two of a gift exchange fic and finish it over the next few months?

Of Steel and Flesh - The next chapter was largely written back in January after the game that inspired this story, but as a consequence, it feels a bit too much like a TTRPG summary... It needs to be fleshed out more. Also, should it be split into two chapters? Unfortunately, while I love this story, it probably takes me the most effort to write, so it has been hard to work on recently. (Update the next day - Put out a chapter of this! Took me weeks to get it together.)

Alpha Legion short - I have a Alpha Legion short I threw together for an MMM post a while ago but I didn't post it because it was more silly than hot. My concern with this one is that I could easily see it becoming something much longer, like Iron Will, Crimson Whispers did. I don't have the space for another long project now, so I've been ignoring this one for a while. But I like it, and it shouldn't take too long to edit it...

Even in Death - The final chapter is basically complete, I just need to decide if I'm moving one section earlier so all the flashbacks will be in chronological order or if I should leave it as it is so there is a happier flashback following a sadder one. Once that's done, I can edit and post it.

Vulkan x Roboute short - Started outlining something for a friend. The pairing is cute and I want to make her something nice involving her OTP. This one will take me some research, though, so it probably won't be ready until after July. (Update - I guess I have to put on my clown makeup now, because I was reading The Art of War for unrelated reasons and ended up YOLOing this one.)

July MMM - One of the discord servers I'm in has been very keen on MMM recently. We're choosing a couple of prompts each month. Problem is, I recently wrote two stories that were a bit similar to July's prompts ("It's raining outside" is a thing in Feel for It, "knives and blood" was a thing in Afterparty). I've got something ready for it, though. Just need to wait til next Monday to post it.

Techmarine Story - This one is still in EARLY days. It doesn't even have a complete outline, just like 7-8k words in disconnected sections. I think I may need to severely narrow the scope of this one and make it either a oneshot or 3-6 short chapters. But I can't think about it anytime soon now I've signed up to a fic exchange.

Salamander Slice-of-Life Romance - My comfort project. It's coming along bit by bit, I probably add about 1k words to it a month. Still, I'm not in any sort of hurry to finish it. This is the one I really don't think anyone but me will ever want, haha. It's literally just an Astartes' first year or two on the job in a reserve company. Lots of mundanity, city life, squad dynamics, smaller deployments, and a romance with his brander-priest. I love it. It'll be ready when it's ready.

How I Am:

Warning, this is kind of a rant.

I miss being well. I was SO prolific just a month ago, before I got Covid again and had to go off my narcolepsy meds for an unrelated reason.

Even mild Covid sucks, but untreated narcolepsy is fucking shite. I've been on meds since I was 19, so I forgot how disabling it is. It felt less crushing before I was diagnosed, but at that point, that was the only way I had ever lived. Now, I've spent eleven years without the constant sleep attacks, and I can't remember how I used to manage this. (Probably badly since I ended up doing a full sleep study, lol.) It feels like I'm out of practice, if that makes sense? This whole thing has really thrown me for a loop.

Aside from writing, I haven't been painting much because I fall asleep when I sit still for more than a few minutes. Coffee helps, but I can only have one a day, so I'll drink my one coffee and then get a decent hour or two of painting at most before I'm back to being a bit useless. That may sound like a lot, but I'm a very slow painter. So, that's no fun.

I really don't want to just complain. My life is great, I'm very lucky to have a lovely spouse and not to be in a position where my narcolepsy could endanger my job or leave me homeless. I'm also lucky to be in the UK, where my diagnosis was free and I could actually afford eleven years of treatment without difficulty. But, fuck me, I want to be able to do normal human things again without falling asleep. This isn't forever, I'm off them for a good reason, but it may be a long time before I can go back on.

Ending on a happy note:

Hopefully, two friends and I will get to play Blood Bowl soon. She has played the digital version, he used to play but hasn't played for decades, and I've never played at all, so it should be a lot of fun. Plus, if there's three of us, whoever isn't playing can sub in for me if I fall asleep, haha.

#I don't wanna be like “woe is me” and all #But man what the fuck has this year been?#2023 was one of the best of my life #2024 is gunning for weirdest and potentially worst #wip wednesday #Writing

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