#everyone get excited to live under a dictator

[demontruth]

Nice job media, the spineless ball-less democratic party, useless polls, one debate (which if any of us had stand there listen to Trump lie for that long and not be able to cuss him out we all be lookin old too). For forcing Biden to drop out of the Presidential race. This goes out especially to democratic party where the fuck where y'all with candidates beside Biden way back month ago...oh yea I remember being complacent, useless, politicians. That couldn't be bothered to do shit. But now 5 months, 5 fucking months before the Presidential election y'all decide to completely screw the American people, throw us in complete chaos with no hope of winning in November.

I've said this before I'll say it again we need more ever, more than a 2 party system. Those other parts have to be included in our government like in the way it works in other countries like Denmark, Norway, etc.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 06.

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. SOME ROMANCEEEEEEE BECAUSE I DIDNT BUILD THIS STORY UP FOR NOTHINGGGGGGGG and they KISSSS AT THE ENDDDDDDDD, Madame being stubborn and not wanting to open up, alastor being a unconventional flirt, other overlords wanting to fight Madame, fighting, THEY KISSSED FINALLLLLLYYYY RAHHHHHHH ROMANCE CHAPTERRRRRRRRRRR RAHHHHHHHHH ENJOYYYY RAHHHHHHHHHH

A/N: IM BACCCKKKK WITH ANOTHER CHAPAPPPTTERRRRRR, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY AND THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO STILL KEEPS UP WITH THIS STORY I LOVE YOU SOSOSOOOSOSOOSOSOS SOOOOOO MUCH THANK YOU ENDLESSLY FOR THE SUPPORT I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH!!!! IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS CHAPTER SO THIS IS SHORT BUT YEAH ENJOY!!! As for the taglist, I’m afraid it’s closed as of right now, just because I physically cannot tag anymore people on these posts, so I’ll try to figure something out with that!

Tags: @dollops-of-delusion @nebsisdead @speedybeta @rosedasy @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @ikkyboy @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @sockgoblin @nxrdamp @l0ca1ax010t1 @inutheangel @writing-fanfics @ghostdoodlen @elaemae @fantasy-angelo @patchesofdreams @sunnyslug @arrozyfrijoles23 @kimmikreates @lqmons @mangobango69 @lily-ann-b @venusasf

Masterlist // Navigation // Part five //

Word Count: idk too much to count

Alastor wandered through the dimly lit corridors of his domain, his thoughts consumed by the recent encounter with Madame. The battle had been a humbling reminder of his own limitations—something he wasn't accustomed to facing. Despite his confidence and power, Madame had proven to be a formidable opponent, one whose control over shadows and icy demeanor had far exceeded his expectations.

As he moved through his radio tower, the events of their confrontation replayed in his mind. He had approached her with the usual bravado, fully expecting to bring her down like all the other overlords he’d bested. But she had met him with a calm, almost eerie composure, deflecting his every move with an ease that unsettled him. He could still hear the sound of his staff shattering under her attack, the unpleasant screech of static in his own mind as she sent him back to the Pride Ring with little more than a thought.

It wasn't just her power that gnawed at him—it was the way she had affected him. Alastor was used to being in control, to dictating the flow of events, but something about Madame had stirred feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. She was cold, calculating, and impossibly strong, and yet... there was an allure to her that he found difficult to ignore. It was a weakness, one that he despised, but it was there nonetheless. He felt if he ignored it, it would go away. All he needed to do was to be stronger—better. Then she’d crack under him, make her the newest voice of his broadcast, make her feel so little the way she had done to him.

As he pondered over these thoughts, Alastor was brought back to the present with the realization that the meeting with the other overlords was quickly approaching. These meetings were a regular occurrence, held every few months, and were crucial to maintaining the balance of power in Hell. They were a time for the most powerful and influential figures to discuss territory, strategies, and alliances. Alastor had never missed one, and he had no intention of starting now, especially not with the recent developments concerning Madame. Maybe he could find the next overlord he could to dethrone.

Arriving at the grand hall where the meetings were held, Alastor made his entrance with his usual arrogance, his presence immediately commanding attention. The room buzzed with the energy of powerful entities discussing territory, power, and politics. Alastor mingled easily, his charm masking the storm of thoughts still brewing from his encounter with Madame. He decided to try pushing their little petty fight to the back of his mind for now.

But as the discussions swirled around him, the grand doors suddenly swung open, their creak cutting through the noise like a knife. The room fell silent as every head turned toward the entrance. The air felt cold, chilling, and the energy in the air swirled of death. Like if a reaper had come back to kill them all a second time. Madame stepped into view, her presence electrifying the air. The shadows clung to her like a living entity, her authority almost tangible. The surprise among the gathered overlords was immediate—Madame’s arrival at such a meeting was nothing short of shocking. She was never one who cared to mingle outside of her own will, and despite being advised to attend these meetings, it was rare she’d ever come.

Alastor’s eyes locked onto her, his usual smirk straining as he took in the sight. Her presence had instantly shifted the dynamics of the room. This was no ordinary gathering now; it was a battlefield, and Madame had just declared herself a major player. Alastor had never felt so small before, even in a room where some would say he had a target on his back. She made him feel like biggest loser in a game of chess. He hated this feeling.

His mind raced as he watched her, the earlier feelings of unease mingling with something deeper. He couldn’t shake the effect she had on him. This meeting was supposed to be about power, about control, but as she moved with that same eerie composure through the room, Alastor knew that his own feelings were becoming just as much a part of the game as anything else. This felt different, like something he couldn’t fight.

As Madame strode into the grand hall, her entrance caused an immediate stir among the gathered overlords. The room fell into a stunned silence, all eyes drawn to her commanding presence. The shadows that cloaked her seemed to deepen, adding an air of mystery and authority to her arrival.

A tall, imposing figure was the first to break the silence, his voice tinged with a note of surprise and curiosity. “Madame, what a surprise,” he said, his tone careful but laced with underlying tension. Even he was nervous. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence here?”

Madame’s gaze swept across the room, her eyes cold and unyielding. “Pleasure is not the word I would use,” she replied, her voice smooth and controlled. “I believe it is time for a new alignment of power. The affairs of Hell are shifting, and I intend to make my influence known.” She said, her eyes shifting to the other overlords in the room. It was deathly silent.

A smaller, serpentine overlord slithered closer, suspicion narrowing his eyes. “And why should we welcome you here, Madame? You’ve always preferred your isolation. What has brought you to our gathering now?”

Madame’s expression remained inscrutable. “Times change, and so must we. I am here to ensure that my interests are represented. The dynamics of Hell are evolving, and I intend to be at the forefront of these changes. You should know me better than this by now, or so I’d hope.”

Another overlord with a severe demeanor stepped forward, her voice sharp with authority. “You have been a formidable force in the Pride Ring, Madame, but this is not your usual territory. What exactly are you proposing?”

Madame’s eyes met hers with unwavering resolve. The woman almost shrieked when Madame had turned almost too quickly to face her. “I propose that we reconsider our alliances and strategies. The balance of power is in flux, and I have no intention of being left behind. If any here believe they can dictate the future without considering my position, they will find themselves gravely mistaken.” Madame said, and at this, her eyes finally met Alastor. It seemed as though their little fight had pulled Madame out of her long dug out grave.

The assembled overlords exchanged uneasy glances. Madame’s arrival and her clear assertion of power had shifted the atmosphere in the room. Alastor, observing the exchange from a comfortable distance, felt the tension rise. He was drawn to her presence, not just as a rival but as something more—a feeling he found unsettling. He couldn’t deny the pull of attraction he felt toward her, but it clashed violently with his usual sense of lost control. It made him uneasy, this mix of admiration and something dangerously close to affection. But it seemed she was proving to be quite the ally.

He had heard tales of her power, of her cold demeanor and strong will, but seeing it firsthand stirred something unexpected within him. It wasn’t just respect for her strength; there was an undercurrent of desire, something he had never allowed himself to feel before. And he hated it. Hated that she, of all beings, could make him feel this way. It was a weakness, and Alastor despised weakness.

Yet, as she spoke with such calm authority, claiming her place among them, he couldn’t help but be fascinated. There was a part of him that wanted to test her, to push her limits, to see just how cold and powerful she truly was. But another part, the part he tried to suppress, wanted something more—to know her, to understand who was under all this power.

The tall overlord who had first spoken tried to regain his composure. “Very well, Madame. We will hear what you have to say. But know this: the balance of power here is delicate, and any attempt to disrupt it will be met with resistance.”

Madame inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment. “I understand the stakes. Rest assured, my intention is not to disrupt, but to integrate my influence into the existing framework. The changes will benefit all, or none.” She said, looking around before landing back onto the previous overlord. “Though I wouldn’t mind a good fight. I haven’t had one in quite some time.”

A good fight? Had he really made himself look like that much of a fool? Her words angered him, and he fought hard not to attack her right then and there. But who knew what the other overlords would do. Alastor had a feeling he wasn’t the only one considering attempting to make her his new ally. She seemed like a sure asset to survival. Alastor remained silent, his mind racing with thoughts he wasn’t accustomed to having. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that she had this effect on him. But as much as he tried to push those feelings down, he knew they were there, lingering just beneath the surface, making him question his own intention.

After the meeting, the grand hall slowly emptied as the overlords departed, leaving behind only the first overlord and Madame. The tension in the air was palpable as the first overlord turned to her, his gaze sharp and probing.

“You don’t usually involve yourself in these meetings,” he remarked, his tone laced with suspicion. “What do you really want, Madame? What brings you here now, after all this time?”

Madame’s expression remained unreadable, her eyes cold as they met his. “Perhaps it’s because you’ve failed to keep your so-called allies under control,” she replied smoothly. “There’s been a shift in the balance of power, and it seems you’re struggling to maintain it.”

The first overlord bristled at her words, his jaw tightening. “What they do doesn’t concern you. My goal is to keep us all in power, and I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“Are you?” Madame’s voice was calm, almost dismissive. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’re losing your grip. I, on the other hand, have no such difficulties. Power comes naturally to me, and I don’t need to rely on unstable alliances to keep it.”

Her words cut deep, and the first overlord’s face flushed with anger. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Madame alone in the echoing silence of the grand hall.

After the overlord had stormed out, Madame lingered in her positing in the meeting room, her thoughts a complex web of plans and calculations. The conversation had been revealing; it was clear that the balance of power was more fragile than anyone wanted to admit. The idea of aligning herself with these other overlords seemed increasingly unnecessary. She could sense the cracks in their unity from a mile away and knew that exploiting those weaknesses would be far more effective.

But she wasn’t truly alone.

Alastor had been listening, concealed in the shadows, his presence undetected by either of them. He had heard every word of their exchange, and now, as the first overlord’s footsteps faded, he decided to make his presence known.

Stepping out from the darkness, Alastor’s voice broke the silence. “You’ve certainly made quite the impression tonight.”

Madame didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice. Instead, she turned to face him, her expression as inscrutable as ever. “And you’ve been eavesdropping,” she noted coolly.

Alastor smiled, though there was a hint of something darker beneath it. “Curiosity is one of my many vices,” he admitted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her. “But I must say, you’ve surprised me, Madame. Not many can make him lose his composure like that.”

Madame remained silent for a moment, studying him with a measured gaze. “What do you want, Radio Demon?” she asked finally, her tone devoid of warmth.

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider her question. “Oh, just a chat between acquaintances. Perhaps over dinner?”

Her answer was immediate and firm. “No.”

Unfazed, Alastor took a step closer, his smile unwavering. “Are you sure? I might know something that could be of interest to you.”

Madame’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident. “I said no.”

But Alastor didn’t retreat. Instead, he moved closer still, until he was near enough to feel the chill radiating from her. He could sense the coldness of her aura, a stark contrast to the warmth of his own presence. His nerves prickled with a faint anxiety, but he concealed it behind his ever-present grin.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Business, of course. And who knows? You might just hear something you’ve been curious about.”

Madame studied him for a long moment, her gaze piercing. Finally, she relented, though her tone remained cool and businesslike. “Fine. This is strictly for business.”

With that, the tension between them shifted, an agreement made but far from trust. As they prepared to leave the room, Alastor couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. This was just the beginning, and though Madame remained an enigma, he was determined to unravel her secrets, one way or another, wether she liked it or not.

Later that evening, as the darkness settled over Hell’s Pride Ring, Alastor arrived at Madame’s grand estate. The ominous shadows that seemed to live within the very walls of her home barred his entrance, forcing him to wait outside. He stood there, outwardly composed, but the anticipation was a slow burn beneath his skin.

The front door creaked open, and for once, she chose to step outside rather than melt into the shadows. The sight of her made him still, his usual suave demeanor faltering as he took in her appearance. Madame was clad in a sleek, all-black ensemble that hugged her form elegantly. The way the fabric moved with her, dark and fluid, almost like the shadows she commanded, made it seem as if she was an extension of the night itself.

Alastor's sharp red eyes traced every detail, from the delicate curve of her neck to the way the dim light glinted off her attire. For a moment, he fought to keep his usual control, but the sight of her was... disarming. She was a vision of power, one that both thrilled and unnerved him. He began to wonder if having thoughts of Madame in, other ways, were something his mother would approve of. He wasn’t raised to be so, ungentlemanly.

"You look... stunning, if I may say," Alastor remarked, his voice laced with a gentlemanly charm that barely concealed the genuine admiration beneath. There was a subtle flirtation in his tone, something almost out of character for the Radio Demon, but then again, Madame had a way of bringing out what lay beneath his facade. She felt a proud sense in this moment.

Madame paused, her gaze cool and assessing, yet something softened in her eyes. A slight smile tugged at her lips—just the faintest hint of amusement or perhaps acknowledgment of his words. "Be quiet, Radio Demon," she replied, her tone as sharp as ever, but there was no real bite to it. The smile remained, even if just for a moment, before she turned away, signaling the beginning of their 'business' evening.

As Madame stepped closer, her calm demeanor unwavering, she glanced at Alastor with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “So, where exactly are we dining tonight?” she asked, her tone as measured as ever.

Alastor’s smile widened, an air of mischievousness dancing behind his eyes. “I do hope you enjoy venison,” he replied, his voice smooth. Before Madame could respond, Alastor extended his hand slightly, and with a mere flick of his wrist, the shadows around them swirled and engulfed them both in an instant. The world shifted, and they reappeared at a secluded, upscale restaurant deep within the Pride Ring.

As they materialized at their destination, Madame found herself standing on a balcony overlooking a secluded, upscale restaurant nestled deep within the Pride Ring. The restaurant was lit with soft lanterns, casting a gentle glow across the water. The air was thick with the scent of rich spices and sizzling meat, the restaurant’s specialty.

Alastor kept a polite distance from Madame as they walked to their table, though his eyes couldn’t help but wander to her from time to time. "I trust you enjoy venison?" he asked casually, glancing at her to gauge her reaction.

Madame didn’t miss a beat. “It’s acceptable,” she replied, her tone even. “But I’m more interested in why you chose this particular place. Seems a bit... quaint for an overlord.”

A small, knowing smile played on Alastor’s lips. “Ah, but that’s the charm of it, isn’t it? A little pocket of calm in the midst of all the chaos. I find it helps... clear the mind.”

Madame’s eyes briefly scanned the surroundings, taking in the dark wood paneling and the warm glow of the lanterns that lined the walls. “I suppose even demons need a break from the constant power struggles,” she mused, though her voice held a hint of skepticism.

Alastor chuckled softly as they continued following the host. “Indeed. And besides,” he added, lowering his voice slightly as he leaned in just a fraction closer, “it’s not often I get to dine with such... intriguing company.”

Madame shot him a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Alastor,” she said, though there was the faintest trace of a smirk on her lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening as they stepped out onto the balcony. The cool air of the night greeted them, and the view of the pond below made for a striking backdrop. The host gestured to their table, positioned at the edge of the balcony, was isolated from the other diners, giving them an unexpected sense of privacy. The atmosphere was intimate, almost deceptively so, as if the very setting was designed to disarm and enchant.

Madame paused for a moment, taking in the scene before her. It was, as Alastor had described, a little pocket of calm. But she knew better than to be lulled by the surface. “Interesting choice,” she remarked, allowing a hint of approval to seep into her voice.

Alastor pulled out her chair with a flourish, his smile never faltering. “I’m glad you think so. I find it’s always worth it to seek out the unexpected.”

Madame allowed herself a slight nod as she took her seat. “We’ll see if it’s worth it,” she said, her tone measured, as Alastor took his place across from her. Despite the seemingly relaxed atmosphere, the undercurrent of their conversation was anything but casual. Both knew that this dinner, like everything else in Hell, was a game of strategy—one where neither could afford to lose.

As they settled into their seats, a server approached with a polite smile, ready to take their order. Alastor gestured for Madame to order first, but she simply nodded at the server, her expression impassive.

“I’ll have whatever you think is the best dish on the menu,” Madame said, her tone decisive, as if challenging the server to impress her.

The server blinked, slightly taken aback but quickly recovered. “Very well, Madame. We’ll make sure it’s something special,” they replied before turning to Alastor.

“And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the venison,” Alastor responded smoothly, handing the menu back with a courteous nod. “Prepared exactly as the chef recommends.”

The server took their menus and bowed slightly before retreating, leaving the two of them alone on the balcony, the soft sounds of the night providing a serene backdrop. The silence between them stretched on for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

It was Alastor who finally broke the silence, his tone casual but with a hint of something more. “You know, Madame, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘Radio Demon.’ It’s Alastor. A simple name for a not-so-simple demon.”

Madame looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing his words. “I’m surprised you’d share something so personal,” she replied, her voice cool and measured. “Names hold power, and in Hell, that’s not something you should give away lightly.”

Alastor smiled, unfazed by her caution. “Perhaps, but I don’t mind people knowing my name—especially if that person is you.” His tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an undertone of sincerity that gave his words more weight.

At this, Madame grew silent, her gaze steady but thoughtful as she considered his response. For once, she found herself at a loss for words. His openness caught her off guard, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. The usual sharp retorts or calculated replies seemed out of place in this moment, and that realization unsettled her.

Alastor, noticing her hesitation, simply smiled and leaned back in his chair, letting the silence settle between them again. He didn’t push further, content with the small victory of having her momentarily off-balance. The night was still young, and there was plenty of time for the game to unfold.

Moments later, the server returned, balancing plates of expertly prepared food and a bottle of wine. With a polite nod, they set down the venison in front of Alastor and another dish for Madame, which appeared to be the restaurant’s specialty. The bottle of wine was uncorked with a practiced hand, and two glasses were poured before the server bowed slightly and left, leaving the two alone on the balcony.

The night air was still, with only the faintest sound of the water from the pond below. Madame, ever composed, picked up her glass, swirling the wine briefly before taking a sip. She set it down gently, her gaze sharp as it met Alastor’s.

“So,” she began, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “what is it that you so strongly think I should know?”

Alastor leaned back slightly, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. “You have such a way with words, Madame,” he said, his voice smooth. “But I assure you, I wouldn’t have asked for your time if it wasn’t worth your attention.”

Madame remained silent, her expression unreadable as she waited for him to continue.

Alastor, sensing her impatience, leaned in slightly, his demeanor shifting to something more serious. “You’ve been making waves, Madame, whether intentionally or not. The power you wield, your control over the Pride Ring, the overlords—it’s drawing attention. Not just from me, but from others who are far less… civilized.”

Madame raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Civilized? And you think I can’t handle a few envious overlords without a man?”

Alastor chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Oh, I have no doubt you can handle them. But there are forces at play that are more cunning, more insidious. They’d rather undermine you from the shadows than confront you directly.”

Madame’s eyes narrowed. “And why would you be warning me about this, Alastor? What’s in it for you?”

“Consider it a gesture of goodwill,” he replied smoothly. “You see, Madame, I prefer a more… direct approach. If I want something, I’ll let it be known to all who listen.”

Madame studied him for a moment, her gaze piercing. “ Very direct and very vague, of course.” She said with a scoff, looking away from him, not noticing how Alastor’s eye twitched at her comment. It was clear he could not fool her. “And what is it that you want, Alastor?” She said looking back at him.

Alastor’s smile widened slightly, his eyes glinting in the low light. “Simple. I want us to work together. You’re strong, powerful, and let’s be honest, Madame—you’re far more interesting than the rest of them. Imagine what we could achieve if we combined our strengths.”

Madame didn’t respond immediately, her mind processing his words. She couldn’t ignore the flattery, but she also couldn’t fully trust him. She picked up her wine glass again, taking another sip as she weighed her options.

Finally, she set the glass down, her expression firm. “I’ll consider your proposal, Alastor. But know this: I’m not easily swayed by words alone.”

Alastor nodded, his smile never fading. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, mon chère.”

The night sky over the Pride Ring was a tumultuous swirl of crimson and black as the group of overlords gathered for their planned ambush. Their leader, a towering figure with an aura of dark energy, spoke with grim satisfaction.

“This is it. Madame won’t see this coming,” the leader said. “We strike quickly and decisively. She’s always so isolated. She thinks she’s invulnerable. This will be her lesson.”

A hulking overlord with a body of molten stone growled in agreement. “We’ve waited long enough. Let’s kill her already.”

Another overlord, draped in ice added, “She’s always been a thorn in our sides, thinking she’s better than us. Without her, we can consolidate our power and crush any opposition.”

The group spread out, their malicious grins reflecting their eagerness to finally take down Madame. As they prepared to ambush her, their confidence was palpable.

Madame, however, despite their past beliefs, had sensed something was amiss. Emerging from the shadows with her usual poise, she took in the sight of the assembled overlords. Her eyes, cold and calculating, swept over them.

“I see you’ve decided to pay me a visit,” Madame said smoothly, her tone carrying an edge of disdain. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

The overlord leader’s eyes narrowed, a mixture of surprise and irritation on his face. “You’re not in a position to be so composed. You’ll be begging for your life soon, Madame.”

Madame’s lips curved into a faint smile. “And you think you can do that easily? You forget yourself.”

“Enough talk,” the molten overlord roared, stepping forward with an imposing presence. “Let’s get this over with. I’m sick and tired of her.”

Just as the overlords closed in, ready to strike, a burst of static crackled through the air, causing them to halt in their tracks. Alastor emerged from the shadows, his usual flamboyant entrance turning heads. The overlords looked at each other in surprise, confusion evident in their expressions.

“Surprised?” Alastor’s voice echoed with a hint of amusement. “I’d say you’re a bit out of your depth. I think we all know I love good entertainment!”

The overlords hesitated, momentarily thrown off balance by Alastor’s sudden appearance. Madame seized the opportunity, her shadows whipping out with precise strikes, catching the attackers off guard.

The overlord leader’s eyes widened. “You’re with her?”

Alastor smirked as he manipulated reality around them, creating chaos among the enemy ranks. “Indeed. Seems you’ve underestimated both of us.”

Another overlord, speaking with annoyance, said “He’s only with her because she’ll kill him if he tries killing her. He’s too weak.” At this, Alastor felt himself grin, his aura shifting to a green tone, the way it had when he had first fought Madame.

Madame’s eyes glinted with determination. “Alastor, keep them disoriented. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Of course, Mon chere,” he replied, summoning a burst of static energy to further disrupt their opponents. “Let’s make this an entertaining show!”

The fight erupted into chaos, with Madame and Alastor working in tandem. Alastor’s chaotic influence complemented Madame’s shadowy precision, creating a whirlwind of confusion for the overlords. They fought back fiercely, but the combined might of Madame and Alastor proved overwhelming. Alastor had proven himself to be quite the asset to her.

One of the overlords, cornered and desperate, shouted, “You can’t defeat all of us! You’ll get tired eventually!”

Madame’s shadows enveloped him, pinning him down. She laughed, a smile on her face, one Alastor took the time to stop and admire as he watched her speak to the overlord beneath her.“We don’t need to defeat all of you, I was actually planning on killing you. But I guess I can rough you up just enough to make you reconsider your plans.”

As the last of the attackers fled, the battlefield fell silent. The ground was littered with the defeated, the acrid smell of blood hanging in the air. Madame stood tall, her gaze sweeping over the scene, while Alastor casually adjusted his jacket, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, that was quite the display,” Alastor remarked, turning to Madame. “I must say, mon chère, we do make quite the team.”

Madame regarded him with an unreadable expression. “This doesn’t make us allies, Alastor. You helped because it suited your interests.”

Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Perhaps. Or maybe I simply enjoyed the spectacle. It was a great show!”

Madame’s lips twitched slightly. “Regardless, you were useful tonight. But don’t think this changes anything.”

Alastor chuckled, his tone both light-hearted and sincere. “Of course, Madame. That’s what makes you so intriguing.”

As they left the battlefield, Madame cast a sidelong glance at Alastor. “You’re more complex than I expected.”

“And you, Madame, are a mystery I’m quite eager to solve.” Alastor replied smoothly. “Though all that can wait, I’m quite starved. Would you like to accompany me to our usual restaurant? I hear there’s a special tonight.” Alastor said in a sing-song tone. Madame sighed, joining Alastor at his side as he summoned a portal.

“I guess I could bother myself with your presence for a bit longer.” She replied, a small smile on her face as she stepped through with Alastor.

As the evening wore on, the restaurant’s ambiance shifted from casual to intimate. The soft glow of candlelight flickered over the polished table, casting warm shadows that danced across the walls. Madame and Alastor had finished their meal, and the atmosphere between them was charged with a new tension, an unspoken expectation hanging in the air.

Alastor stood up from his chair, his movements deliberate and graceful. He adjusted his suit jacket, his usual playful smirk replaced by a rare seriousness. With his hands clasped behind his back, he took a deep breath, his posture straight and his gaze focused intently on Madame. The light caught the gleam in his eyes, emphasizing the earnestness of his next words. “Madame,” he began, his voice soft yet filled with intensity. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Madame looked up from her wine glass, her expression guarded but curious. “What is it, Alastor?”

Alastor’s eyes never wavered as he leaned forward slightly, the formality of his stance softened by the genuine emotion in his tone. “When I first sought you out, it was with the intention of understanding you, and perhaps even taking your power. You intrigued me, and I thought I could manipulate it to my advantage. But as I watched you, as I saw how fiercely you fought and how you stood your ground tonight, something has changed, and I believe I can no longer keep these emotions to myself.”

Madame’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of skepticism and anticipation. “Changed how? Keep what to yourself?”

Alastor’s gaze was unwavering, his voice carrying a sincerity that seemed foreign to his usual demeanor. He took a small step closer, his body language open and vulnerable. “I believe, I have… fallen for you.” He said quietly. The air was still, silent. He continue. “I’ve never felt this way about a single living soul, not even while I was alive. At first, I was drawn to your strength, your control, and your resilience. But I find it is more than that now. You’ve touched something within me that I believed was long dead. My feelings for you have grown beyond mere admiration.”

Madame’s expression softened, though she remained silent, processing his confession.

“I am aware,” Alastor continued, his hands now loosely clasped in front of him, his stance slightly more relaxed but still tense with emotion, “that you do not need me. You are more than powerful and capable on your own.” He said, trying to disband any doubt in Madame’s mind. “But I want to be by your side, to fight alongside you, and only if you will have me. I’ve never felt this way before, and I cannot let this go unspoken about any longer.” Madame studied him for a moment, her emotions a tangled web of surprise and contemplation. “I love you, mon amour.”

Alastor’s smile was slowly faltering with the more silence she gave him. He felt his mind begin to race. Maybe he had made the wrong decision. But if she doesn’t say yes, surely he can’t have her be with someone else, right? Fighting her again would be hard though. She surely wouldn’t just allow him to lock her away forever right? Alastor took another step closer, his hand hovering just above hers, a silent offer of connection. “Please, say something.” He asked. At this, Madame just hummed.

Madame had grown…accustomed to Alastor. It had been months since their initial meeting, and during that time he’d stuck rather close to her. Whenever she was out on the town checking on her boutiques, he’d send her lunch or occasionally flowers. Some days while she was resting home, looking over plans and notes, a shadow would report to her with a message about how Alastor had single handedly taken down another overlord who she knew had been plotting on her for a bit. He had proven himself to be useful, but she was beginning to find it harder and harder to ignore how he had truly made her felt. Outside of a business sense. He’d invite her to tag along with him on business endeavors, and she’d sit and watch as Alastor racked up souls like if it was a game. Sometimes she wondered if he really took anything serious, and if he could ever take her serious.

She’d never trust a man. How could she when she watched her sister be crushed by one? She was afraid, being with someone meant being vulnerable, giving herself up. Giving up everything she believed in all because she’d fallen in love with a man in her afterlife? This wasn’t how she thought she’d be spending her eternity, but here she was. But, she’d be damned if she ever made the first move.

Maybe, she could trust him? Or learn too, at least.

Madame’s gaze remained steady as Alastor finished his confession. She took a moment to process his words, her expression betraying little emotion. Her posture was relaxed but maintained, the epitome of composure. She sat upright, her hands resting neatly on the table, fingers interlaced as if to keep her emotions in check.

“Alastor,” she began, her voice cool but with an underlying softness, “your confession is unexpected. I never imagined being in a position where my own feelings would be so… exposed.” Alastor chuckled at her words, his nerves calming a bit.

She briefly looked down at their hands before meeting his gaze again. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, softened ever so slightly as she continued. “You’ve managed to breach the walls I’ve carefully constructed. It’s disconcerting, though not entirely unwelcome. Your presence has affected me more than anticipated.” She paused a bit, before continuing.

“I never imagined I’d hear such words from you, let alone in a setting like this. I have spent so long keeping my emotions in check, I convinced myself that power and control were all that mattered. But you have managed to break through those barriers in ways I hadn’t thought anyone could.”

Madame shifted slightly in her seat, leaning back just enough to create a bit of distance, yet her eyes remained fixed on him with unwavering focus. Her fingers, previously interlaced, now rested lightly on top of his own hand, betraying the calm control she was trying to maintain. “Though I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, I . You’ve brought out parts of myself that I thought were hidden away, and yet you stand here, offering me your heart and your loyalty. I’ve been so scared to let anyone in, to risk the control I’ve worked so hard to build. But with you, I feel like I can let my guard down, even just a little. You’ve managed to make me feel something I thought I had left behind.”

She adjusted her posture, her movements deliberate and measured. Her fingers gently tapped the edge of the table, creating a subtle rhythm as she spoke. Her eyes locked onto his, a tender sincerity in her gaze. “You’ve captured something in me that I thought was lost forever. And for that, you have my heart in ways I don’t think anyone else ever could.”

Alastor’s gaze softened as he took in her words, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I’m deeply moved, mon chère,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I’ve never felt anything like this before, not even in life. You’ve captured my heart in ways I never imagined possible.”

He took her hands in his, his eyes locked on hers. “Je t’aime plus que les mots ne peuvent le dire. You are everything to me, and I’m here for you, not just because I must be, but because I want to be. I will stand by your side through all of Hell’s chaos.”

As he spoke, he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with hers. The space between them closed as he gently pressed his lips to hers, their kiss a tender promise of his unwavering devotion, and her promise to him, to begin opening up more, and letting herself be just that, herself.

[bizarrelittlemew]

hey just wanted to remind you that there is a fan event called Asexual sunday tomorrow that has been organised for a while. i saw you posting about bangaversary, and i think you van definitely post about that, but pls keep that fan event in mind 💜🩶🖤

okay let's address some stuff

first of all, yes, i am aware that asexual sunday is tomorrow, and i've been planning on participating. however, this ask annoys me for a number of reasons:

it is TOMORROW, not today

today is, however, the anniversary of S2E6 airing, which yeah, i made what is essentially shitposts about, but honestly it is important to me and many other people that a middle-aged queer couple actually canonically had sex in this show, i'm celebrating that

i was under the impression that the point of asexual sunday was to post asexual headcanons etc., not that any mention of sex or reference to the characters having sex was prohibited for the whole weekend

adding to the point above, i'd like to quote the event post:

Anyone can participate! You don't have to be ace to join in on the fun! All headcanons and ideas welcome! Sex-repulsed, sex-indifferent, and sex-favorable! Gray-ace and demiace! Ideas where one is allo and one is ace and figure out how to navigate that! Post about Ed and Stede being on the glorious asexual spectrum!

referencing ed and stede's "bangaversary" is not incongruent with the kind of posts that are encouraged for the event

fan events are not mandatory, and someone organizing a fan event is not a license for you to police what everyone posts (especially not the day before the event?! what?!)

in general, you have absolutely no say in what i do or do not post on my blog, so i do not care what you "think i can post about". if you don't like my posts, unfollow

like, i know your intentions are probably good, but you get why this is completely unnecessary and frankly counterproductive to getting people to participate in this voluntary fandom event, right?

if this ask had just been the first part reminding about the event, i would've been happy to post my excitement about it and promote it. but as soon as you act as if you have any say in what i post, it comes off as policing. don't come into my house and try to dictate how i live - if it bothers you, just leave

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The surprising truth about data-driven dictatorships

Here’s the “dictator’s dilemma”: they want to block their country’s frustrated elites from mobilizing against them, so they censor public communications; but they also want to know what their people truly believe, so they can head off simmering resentments before they boil over into regime-toppling revolutions.

These two strategies are in tension: the more you censor, the less you know about the true feelings of your citizens and the easier it will be to miss serious problems until they spill over into the streets (think: the fall of the Berlin Wall or Tunisia before the Arab Spring). Dictators try to square this circle with things like private opinion polling or petition systems, but these capture a small slice of the potentially destabiziling moods circulating in the body politic.

Enter AI: back in 2018, Yuval Harari proposed that AI would supercharge dictatorships by mining and summarizing the public mood — as captured on social media — allowing dictators to tack into serious discontent and diffuse it before it erupted into unequenchable wildfire:

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2018/10/yuval-noah-harari-technology-tyranny/568330/

Harari wrote that “the desire to concentrate all information and power in one place may become [dictators] decisive advantage in the 21st century.” But other political scientists sharply disagreed. Last year, Henry Farrell, Jeremy Wallace and Abraham Newman published a thoroughgoing rebuttal to Harari in Foreign Affairs:

https://www.foreignaffairs.com/world/spirals-delusion-artificial-intelligence-decision-making

They argued that — like everyone who gets excited about AI, only to have their hopes dashed — dictators seeking to use AI to understand the public mood would run into serious training data bias problems. After all, people living under dictatorships know that spouting off about their discontent and desire for change is a risky business, so they will self-censor on social media. That’s true even if a person isn’t afraid of retaliation: if you know that using certain words or phrases in a post will get it autoblocked by a censorbot, what’s the point of trying to use those words?

The phrase “Garbage In, Garbage Out” dates back to 1957. That’s how long we’ve known that a computer that operates on bad data will barf up bad conclusions. But this is a very inconvenient truth for AI weirdos: having given up on manually assembling training data based on careful human judgment with multiple review steps, the AI industry “pivoted” to mass ingestion of scraped data from the whole internet.

But adding more unreliable data to an unreliable dataset doesn’t improve its reliability. GIGO is the iron law of computing, and you can’t repeal it by shoveling more garbage into the top of the training funnel:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/05/29/garbage-in-garbage-out-machine-learning-has-not-repealed-the-iron-law-of-computer-science/

When it comes to “AI” that’s used for decision support — that is, when an algorithm tells humans what to do and they do it — then you get something worse than Garbage In, Garbage Out — you get Garbage In, Garbage Out, Garbage Back In Again. That’s when the AI spits out something wrong, and then another AI sucks up that wrong conclusion and uses it to generate more conclusions.

To see this in action, consider the deeply flawed predictive policing systems that cities around the world rely on. These systems suck up crime data from the cops, then predict where crime is going to be, and send cops to those “hotspots” to do things like throw Black kids up against a wall and make them turn out their pockets, or pull over drivers and search their cars after pretending to have smelled cannabis.

The problem here is that “crime the police detected” isn’t the same as “crime.” You only find crime where you look for it. For example, there are far more incidents of domestic abuse reported in apartment buildings than in fully detached homes. That’s not because apartment dwellers are more likely to be wife-beaters: it’s because domestic abuse is most often reported by a neighbor who hears it through the walls.

So if your cops practice racially biased policing (I know, this is hard to imagine, but stay with me /s), then the crime they detect will already be a function of bias. If you only ever throw Black kids up against a wall and turn out their pockets, then every knife and dime-bag you find in someone’s pockets will come from some Black kid the cops decided to harass.

That’s life without AI. But now let’s throw in predictive policing: feed your “knives found in pockets” data to an algorithm and ask it to predict where there are more knives in pockets, and it will send you back to that Black neighborhood and tell you do throw even more Black kids up against a wall and search their pockets. The more you do this, the more knives you’ll find, and the more you’ll go back and do it again.

This is what Patrick Ball from the Human Rights Data Analysis Group calls “empiricism washing”: take a biased procedure and feed it to an algorithm, and then you get to go and do more biased procedures, and whenever anyone accuses you of bias, you can insist that you’re just following an empirical conclusion of a neutral algorithm, because “math can’t be racist.”

HRDAG has done excellent work on this, finding a natural experiment that makes the problem of GIGOGBI crystal clear. The National Survey On Drug Use and Health produces the gold standard snapshot of drug use in America. Kristian Lum and William Isaac took Oakland’s drug arrest data from 2010 and asked Predpol, a leading predictive policing product, to predict where Oakland’s 2011 drug use would take place.

[Image ID: (a) Number of drug arrests made by Oakland police department, 2010. (1) West Oakland, (2) International Boulevard. (b) Estimated number of drug users, based on 2011 National Survey on Drug Use and Health]

Then, they compared those predictions to the outcomes of the 2011 survey, which shows where actual drug use took place. The two maps couldn’t be more different:

https://rss.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1740-9713.2016.00960.x

Predpol told cops to go and look for drug use in a predominantly Black, working class neighborhood. Meanwhile the NSDUH survey showed the actual drug use took place all over Oakland, with a higher concentration in the Berkeley-neighboring student neighborhood.

What’s even more vivid is what happens when you simulate running Predpol on the new arrest data that would be generated by cops following its recommendations. If the cops went to that Black neighborhood and found more drugs there and told Predpol about it, the recommendation gets stronger and more confident.

In other words, GIGOGBI is a system for concentrating bias. Even trace amounts of bias in the original training data get refined and magnified when they are output though a decision support system that directs humans to go an act on that output. Algorithms are to bias what centrifuges are to radioactive ore: a way to turn minute amounts of bias into pluripotent, indestructible toxic waste.

There’s a great name for an AI that’s trained on an AI’s output, courtesy of Jathan Sadowski: “Habsburg AI.”

And that brings me back to the Dictator’s Dilemma. If your citizens are self-censoring in order to avoid retaliation or algorithmic shadowbanning, then the AI you train on their posts in order to find out what they’re really thinking will steer you in the opposite direction, so you make bad policies that make people angrier and destabilize things more.

Or at least, that was Farrell(et al)’s theory. And for many years, that’s where the debate over AI and dictatorship has stalled: theory vs theory. But now, there’s some empirical data on this, thanks to the “The Digital Dictator’s Dilemma,” a new paper from UCSD PhD candidate Eddie Yang:

https://www.eddieyang.net/research/DDD.pdf

Yang figured out a way to test these dueling hypotheses. He got 10 million Chinese social media posts from the start of the pandemic, before companies like Weibo were required to censor certain pandemic-related posts as politically sensitive. Yang treats these posts as a robust snapshot of public opinion: because there was no censorship of pandemic-related chatter, Chinese users were free to post anything they wanted without having to self-censor for fear of retaliation or deletion.

Next, Yang acquired the censorship model used by a real Chinese social media company to decide which posts should be blocked. Using this, he was able to determine which of the posts in the original set would be censored today in China.

That means that Yang knows that the “real” sentiment in the Chinese social media snapshot is, and what Chinese authorities would believe it to be if Chinese users were self-censoring all the posts that would be flagged by censorware today.

From here, Yang was able to play with the knobs, and determine how “preference-falsification” (when users lie about their feelings) and self-censorship would give a dictatorship a misleading view of public sentiment. What he finds is that the more repressive a regime is — the more people are incentivized to falsify or censor their views — the worse the system gets at uncovering the true public mood.

What’s more, adding additional (bad) data to the system doesn’t fix this “missing data” problem. GIGO remains an iron law of computing in this context, too.

But it gets better (or worse, I guess): Yang models a “crisis” scenario in which users stop self-censoring and start articulating their true views (because they’ve run out of fucks to give). This is the most dangerous moment for a dictator, and depending on the dictatorship handles it, they either get another decade or rule, or they wake up with guillotines on their lawns.

But “crisis” is where AI performs the worst. Trained on the “status quo” data where users are continuously self-censoring and preference-falsifying, AI has no clue how to handle the unvarnished truth. Both its recommendations about what to censor and its summaries of public sentiment are the least accurate when crisis erupts.

But here’s an interesting wrinkle: Yang scraped a bunch of Chinese users’ posts from Twitter — which the Chinese government doesn’t get to censor (yet) or spy on (yet) — and fed them to the model. He hypothesized that when Chinese users post to American social media, they don’t self-censor or preference-falsify, so this data should help the model improve its accuracy.

He was right — the model got significantly better once it ingested data from Twitter than when it was working solely from Weibo posts. And Yang notes that dictatorships all over the world are widely understood to be scraping western/northern social media.

But even though Twitter data improved the model’s accuracy, it was still wildly inaccurate, compared to the same model trained on a full set of un-self-censored, un-falsified data. GIGO is not an option, it’s the law (of computing).

Writing about the study on Crooked Timber, Farrell notes that as the world fills up with “garbage and noise” (he invokes Philip K Dick’s delighted coinage “gubbish”), “approximately correct knowledge becomes the scarce and valuable resource.”

https://crookedtimber.org/2023/07/25/51610/

This “probably approximately correct knowledge” comes from humans, not LLMs or AI, and so “the social applications of machine learning in non-authoritarian societies are just as parasitic on these forms of human knowledge production as authoritarian governments.”

The Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers’ Workshop summer fundraiser is almost over! I am an alum, instructor and volunteer board member for this nonprofit workshop whose alums include Octavia Butler, Kim Stanley Robinson, Bruce Sterling, Nalo Hopkinson, Kameron Hurley, Nnedi Okorafor, Lucius Shepard, and Ted Chiang! Your donations will help us subsidize tuition for students, making Clarion — and sf/f — more accessible for all kinds of writers.

Libro.fm is the indie-bookstore-friendly, DRM-free audiobook alternative to Audible, the Amazon-owned monopolist that locks every book you buy to Amazon forever. When you buy a book on Libro, they share some of the purchase price with a local indie bookstore of your choosing (Libro is the best partner I have in selling my own DRM-free audiobooks!). As of today, Libro is even better, because it’s available in five new territories and currencies: Canada, the UK, the EU, Australia and New Zealand!

[Image ID: An altered image of the Nuremberg rally, with ranked lines of soldiers facing a towering figure in a many-ribboned soldier's coat. He wears a high-peaked cap with a microchip in place of insignia. His head has been replaced with the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.' The sky behind him is filled with a 'code waterfall' from 'The Matrix.']

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

 — 

Raimond Spekking (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Acer_Extensa_5220_-_Columbia_MB_06236-1N_-_Intel_Celeron_M_530_-_SLA2G_-_in_Socket_479-5029.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

 — 

Russian Airborne Troops (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vladislav_Achalov_at_the_Airborne_Troops_Day_in_Moscow_%E2%80%93_August_2,_2008.jpg

“Soldiers of Russia” Cultural Center (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Col._Leonid_Khabarov_in_an_everyday_service_uniform.JPG

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

[qlventingspace]

I'd like to drop some of my thoughts about The Heart Killers here.

You know I'm kinky ace, my love of Pete in the VegasPete days was quite evident as well as my belated realization that I forgot I've always been kinky on some level.

I get that show like Heart Killers is not everyone's cuppa and it's totally fine to be sad about not being able to watch show with your favourite actors for whatever reason.

But.

But this is a show made by a queer man about fantasy queer men.

If you start hating on it (based just on what was shown to us in a trailer) just because you can't watch it and/or it's too sexual or kinky for you ... that's not a problem of the show.

That's a you problem. If you don't like, do not watch and for fucks sake do not start with moralizing.

I'm more than happy to be surprised and I'm on the edge of my seat looking towards what the show is gonna be like bc they didn't give us any concrete hints.

FUCK YES.

I also think that First and Khaotung are literally powerhouses regarding acting and I can't wait to see them in completely new roles we haven't seen them before.

It's surprising, yes, considering how fluffy and cute and comfy vibes they're excluding in their own personal lives but what do we know?! Maybe they wanted to try smth new or maybe they are multifaceted people who like the roles for personal reasons?

Not my place to speculate.

But to see people insisting on them being pushed to filming scenes like that against their will or feeling like they are 'too pure' for kink or sex scenes - that is outright disrespecting their integrity and free will and truly viewing them as only a dolls fans can play with and dictate what they can and cannot appear in.

They are talented, mindful and picky actors, who have enough of will and freedom to choose whatever roles they wanna explore.

P'Jojo is adamant about actors being okay and comfortable filming scenes like that and it was also mentioned that the final nc scenes are always first approved by the actors who star in them (as mentioned in the OF bts).

So knowing all that, insisting on FK being somehow unwilling participants of that, is reeking of homophobia and fan entitlement to actors choices. Stop that.

I went on a tangent a bit.

What I wanted to share as well though is the joy and anticipation!!

I struggle with series that literally rely just on sex scenes, while the plot, cinematography and editing is shite. In those cases sex scenes (though filmed well) are not enough to keep me interested.

In case of Heart Killers I am only excited. I know Jojo's work, so that's in itself is guarantee of quality as well as authentic queer experience (or fantasy in this case).

The soundtrack again will be a blast bc of Jojo's excellent taste and ofc Khaotung singing the smashing ost.

As for the genre I still have no fucking clue what's that supposed to be but I'm swinging wildly from action to romance to crime to comedy to thriller.

(side note: why are people now complaining about it being "soft/lith porn" is beyond me when similar people were excited about porn in different series ??? explain?

sideside note: also manymany straight media is basically porn hiding under fantasy or romance genre but I don't see people accentuating those being porn when talking about them

sidesideside note: also reducing the series that HAVEN'T EVEN COME OUT YET to mere porn is outright disrespectful to creators as well as actors)

The plot (excluding any possible spoilers since I avoid them like a fucking plague) seems engaging and interesting and full of twists and it will probably be not what we imagine or expect but that's exactly what I ehehe EXPECT of it.

As for the sex and kink.

Why should it be smth bad or morally wrong just because it's a bl? Just because it's a gay sex and kink?

I swing wildly between finding sex scenes boring, fascinating, completely no shut it off and being horny cause it's hot.

It's just how I am.

THK has the advantage that it has FK to keep my hyperfixation happy and considering the filming crew, the aesthetics and general vibe of the nc scenes will be bloody fucking beautiful.

I was fully hooked from the trailer and I can say that the combo of FK talent, sub/dom vibes, bondage and probably whole layer of christian guilt (saw you Jesus on a shirt, I'm so sorry) will be my downfall.

[millenari]

warning for da:veilguard spoilers, like end-of-game spoilers, like big-reveal-of-the-whole-game spoilers under the cut.

MAN what gets me the most about The Varric Thing™ is how i noticed all the signs! I noticed he never interacted with the other characters! I noticed he remained unhealed when Harding recovered from her own injuries so quickly! I noticed everyone was kinda fucking talking about him like he was dead! And I dismissed all of it because I assumed that expressing confidence in Varric vs doubting him at the beginning was a choice that was going to dictate whether he lived or died-- I thought maybe they feared backlash for killing him off so they slapped in a choice + a couple generic scenes last second during development & that was why Varric felt so shoe-horned in the story (Sebastian in da2 felt very similar at times).

BUT NO! I fell for it! Before the game came out I saw the teasers and I was waiting for him to die, I was genuinely excited to see his big heroic death + sendoff, but then he didn't die! And I let my guard down! And when they revealed that he actually died in exactly the way I was expecting him to, only dozens of hours of gameplay later my ass W E P T irl tears. They played me like a fucking fiddle. Agonizing. Varric you crazy son of a bitch you took my first irl cry over a fictional character from me!

[tmwcs]

His and Her Perspectives - Chapter 3 (18+ Only)

So sorry for the delay. I wanted to get this to you guys before I head out to run some errands, been pretty busy the last few days. This was edited and somewhat partially drafted into completion, however, it is not at all proofread or checked over for errors so please excuse all of that. When i get time tonight, i'll look it over and fix any errors that exist. but for now, enjoy the read!

Pairing: Ooohohohohoho you know who. ;)

Warnings: Yes, this is like pure smut, the whole chapter. Not at all for anyone under the age of 18, so minors please ignore this post. As per usual, the smut is very descriptive, and some curse words. Just the standard stuff. But still a good read if you're trying to get in the mood or an idea of what car sex is like with MGR/MRE/HHP Heeseung ;)

Next chapter is also going to be fully smut-ish so for those of you that live for smut, stay tuned.

The surprise i have in store for you guys will be posted later, i just wanted to get this chapter out because ive been on and off working it for the last few days and I am just ready to get it out so i can work on the next one.

Summary:

Summer was swinging by faster than you could enjoy it. Emily and the girls thought of ways on how to dedicate the remainder of the break to make the most out of the last couple of months and enjoy the season to its fullest. That was when they thought of a nice trip into the valley with the boys, a mass get-together where we could all enjoy each other’s company and have game night at a rental.

It didn’t take long for the girls to find a large home at a decent daily rate, located near one of the famous vineyards in the country. The boys all thought the trip was a good idea and even offered to take charge of the barbeque, much to Emily and the girl’s delight.

You could tell Heeseung liked the idea of the trip, even though he maintained his usual habit of remaining calm, quiet, and sitting with his arms crossed, merely giving a simple nod and half a smirk when Jake turned to ask him if he was excited about the trip.

After a few days, you all had prepared and packed up for an early departure. The drive was long, nearly four and a half hours into the valley, everyone agreed to leave early in the morning while it was still dark out, hoping to mitigate the risk of getting stuck in traffic. Much to the boy’s dismay, the girls dictated that the carpool-maintained gender integrity, mainly so that they could enjoy each other’s company and catch up on daily gossip while they boys spend some quality time themselves.

Witnessing the dictation of transportation assignment, you noted Heeseung’s lowering tilt of the chin as his hat hovered and casted a shadow to cover more than just his eyes. He didn’t like the idea of making a long drive without you being beside him, not because he was the clingy type, it was more so because he had planned on taking the opportunity to rest you on his lap and tightly embracing you.

Though the feeling was mutual, you felt deep down that traveling separately was for the better. Based off the last time you sat on his lap, you both found that it was a prime position for one of your many sexual episodes.

It was on a Friday evening, you and Heeseung decided to go the movie theater. Arriving fairly early, he parked his car near the back end of the lot where it was secluded and sparse, just so you both could have some privacy to talk and freely display your affection without having to worry about exposing yourselves to people passing by.  The windshield overlooked the wide shopping center across the street, with the glittering lights that decorated the shops, and the pleasant view of shoppers mingling from afar, the view produced a wholesome charm of simplistic night life.

Admiring the view, you felt a piece of your hair being tucked away as Heeseung continued to admire your profile. You shyly chucked towards his lovely notion, which only invigorated him more.

Once you both had walked in, found your seating, and watched as the movie began, the moment the beginning credits displayed the main roles was when you lost all interest in the original event. The feeling in your gut proved to be too distracting after the moment in the car. You became stimulated by the act of him moving your hair aside as he peeked at you with one visible eye from underneath his cap.

Making sure to hide it within the hair that framed your face, you glanced over to see that even though Heeseung was facing the screen, you could tell that the sexual tension was building up by the way he kept bouncing his leg. His hat that traditionally covered his eyes, gave his face more shadow from the dimmed lighting inside the theater, it made it hard to tell if he was looking at the screen or possibly gazing at something else while facing it.

His elbow propped up on the arm of the seat, as his face slightly resting against his hand, you took visual notice of the way he had his index delicately placed on his lips, brushing it back and forth gently, occasionally dragging the skin with it as he revealed a subtle display of teeth. Moving your eyes back forward, the tingling sensation grew stronger and even though you tried hiding it by crossing your arms over your chest, the depths of each breath you took was too steep, the inclining rise of your breast was too noticeable. Unsure of how to remedy the situation at a public setting, you both sat there in silence as the movie continued playing. When suddenly you heard Heeseung stand out of his chair.

Two steps in, your view of the screen is blocked by Heeseung, casually standing in front of your crossed legs and extending a hand to you. He doesn’t say a word.

You look up to see that the bill of his cap, along with the effects of the lack of lighting, aggrandized the shadow over his face, leaving only his lips to remain visible, along with the hazy side smirk it formulated. Grabbing his hand, you realized how much the tension was affecting him when you felt the weight of his pull nearly levitated you off your seat. It was so sudden, the way your body lost contact with the cushion as your legs caught up with the movement to keep you from falling over. His grip on your hand was welded.

After straightening your posture, his free hand moves up, and you stood admiring the mask of shadow that his face wore, as he gently fixes your hair with the tips of his fingers. Beginning at your hairline, you felt the light touch of his skin as his fingers pinched a small amount of hair as he delicately relocates it to the side and tucks it behind your ear. The tips gently wrap’s the piece around and behind your helix, where they remained for a second before dragging along the skin behind your ear until they encountered your earring.

He rests the dangle on his index, admiring the butterfly trinket attached. Afterwards, he continues the trailing movement of said finger, letting the earring fall from its rest as he traces your partially exposed jawline inwards towards your chin, where he used his thumb and inner knuckle to nourish a faint hold. Committing to another favorite habit of his, you felt his thumb extend its reach and brush over your lips, from center moving outwards as he rests it on the outer corner, composing small light strokes.

Heeseung synthesized many habits that reciprocated his sentiment towards you, one being his usual and most displayed act in moving, playing, or fixing your hair to amplify the exposure of your face, mainly your eyes, as evident from his showering verbiage expressing his fondness when admiring them. The second habit was the stroking and brushing of your lips.

Of all his habits, there was one that he frequently committed, at least once a day. It was his penchant for facial contact, with or without kissing permitted. Every day when you were on your way to your next class, Heeseung would do the same and walk in your direction. Regardless, it had only been a couple of hours that he hadn’t seen you, it was obvious that you were indefinitely on his mind.

Once you found yourself breaching his presence close enough to ask him how his morning classes were going, he carried his usual trait of withholding a verbal response. Instead, he’d raise a hand to push the bill of his cap up, revealing a raised eyebrow that gave him a confident expression. The tilting of his bill is followed by him placing the same hand on the back of your head, administering a slight grab of hair as he would pull your face in to meet his, nose to nose. The groove of your lips is met with his, but not in the form of a kiss, just touch. He would angle his forehead inward and flutter his lashes against your own, initiating butterfly kisses as he formed his tenacious smirk against your lips, leading to a dual chuckle that you give to each other.

In the theater, you continue to be the canvas of his thumb strokes as he savored every precise detail of your face. Using the grip he had on you, he turns and walks you out of the building, across the wide lot, and back to his car, not a word is spoken from him. With only the view of his broad shoulders, you catch yourself admiring his lethal frame from the back, watching his tall stature as he moves closer to the car with his arm extending backwards as he maintains the grip of your hand, trailing you behind. The wispy length of his hair barely extends pass the nape, faintly touching the back of his collar. No matter the angle you viewed him in, you couldn’t help but find him irresistible.

His pace slows as he reaches the back seat door, opening it, he pulls you by his grip and swings you around to face him. While maintaining the grip, he swings his hand around your backside, bending your arm by the elbow as it is pinned to your lower back, fingers intertwined with each other’s. He pulls you in and kisses you, just a small kiss, but ever so tender like the others. He nods you to get inside the backseat.

Once you slid in, you shift down to the window seat next opposite of the one you had just entered through. He follows in after you, positioning himself on the center seat with his legs widespread, each foot placed behind the two front seats. He faces in your direction, slightly leans over to kiss you once more. You feel his hands roaming from your breasts down to the smallest part of your waist and with utter ease, you’re surprised at his strength as he lifts you, only releasing a single deep moan and breath into your mouth as he picks you up, shifting your backside during movement so that it was facing him as he positioned you on his lap.

The feeling of sitting on Heeseung’s lap became one of your favorite sensations in the world. The moment he rests you on his lap, his hands drag from your waist, and down to your hips as he presses you down against his crotch, enforcing you to feel an overwhelming and pleasurable pressure from the back. As your back arches, your head tilts back against his, you feel him pressing his nose and lips against the soft skin at your nape, burrowing his soft kisses.

His hands that rests on your hips begin to set the pace for your hips to move along with. Pushing and pulling you to a rocking motion, the arch in your back simulates oceanic waves as the back of your head remains resting against his forehead. The soft kisses on your nape transition into a passionate massage as you feel his tongue becomes involved and traces small circles with each wet, and suckling kiss he leaves. You feel him inhaling the scent of your perfume that you applied on the base of your neck, with his face attached to your nape, he enjoys each whiff he takes in. Just as you relish feeling the air he pulls in with his nostrils against your skin, your body slight jolts out of shock at the feeling of his teeth gently nibbling, following by the caressing of his tongue. Concentrating at the center, his oral performance migrates over to the side of your throat as he pulls you in closer, your back fully meets his chest and your head rests on his shoulder as he burrows his face in the nook of your neck.

The motion of your body does not stop, in fact, it continues with a stronger pace as you begin to feel his hips thrusting upwards against your derriere, syncing with the moment your hips roll down on him. His eagerness is evident by his desire to increase the pace, but you use the weight of your hips to suppress each thrust to tease him a little. Not being able to take it, he reaches down and lifts the flare of your skirt up, pinning it to your pelvis with his other hand as he maintains a grip on you. He pulls down your panties, they nearly rip off from his eager ardor had it not been you lifting one leg to feed through it, salvaging the lace material as it drapes and falls on the other leg, collecting in a ring around your ankle.

Accomplishing the goal of getting your sensitive bud exposed, you feel the cold air greeting the skin in between the two folds. The sensation is followed by the pressure of his fingers as he reaches over your thigh and rubs his tips in circular motion against your clit, afflicting gentle taps with his rubbing motion. The moans that rush out your mouth are both soft and harsh as each gasp takes your breath away. The beat of your heart speeds up, pounding against your chest plate, feeling as if it will explode.

Commencing the last rub, he cups you as his middle finger is injected into your opening. Your moves speed up as you feel your mouth drying up from the consistent moaning and gasping, you’re committed to. Once he felt that he has acquired the first phase of your desire, he sticks his index in to join his middle, feeling the fluid of your arousal gushing out, coating each finger.

The arm around your waist tightens, and you feel him pulling you even closer as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Each moment they thrust in, you feel him lifting you upwards as the base of his palm pushes against your base, shifting your weight upwards. Your head surpasses his shoulders, and your chest extends higher, nearly reaching his face as you feel his lips softly pecking below your collarbone.

The sound of skin-to-skin contact is promoted by the heavy moisture flowing in and out as his fingers manipulate the pace and your movements. Just when you feel as though you can’t take enough, his fingers thrust in deep, and remain still. You feel them waving inside you as he massages the interior flesh of your cavity, effectuating unanticipated moans to burst out from your lips as your body wallops upwards from the overwhelming sensation.

Slowly, he slides his fingers out. The sound of his zipper and button coming undone, along with your exhausting pants fills the hollowness of the stagnant car. Feeding through the opening of his briefs, you feel the warmth of his shaft and the tip graze in between your thighs. It is soft, dry, and smooth, it feels gentle and similar to baby skin as it rubs against your skin.

Your head rests on his shoulder. Nose, eyes, and lips facing the window as the side of your cheek and neck is decorated by the hair sticking on to the faint bit of sweat that glazed your skin. From the corner of your eye, you watch as his strong, and large hand grabs the base of his shaft. His long fingers wrapped around the thickness of his diameter, which was so thick that in fact, compared to it his notoriously large hand almost appeared smaller in size.

With his firm grab at the base, he extends the length perpendicularly, the tip eyeballing the roof of the car. A shiver travels from your toes, along your spine, and to the back of your neck as the size of his penis intimidates you. It didn’t get much better as you kept gazing at it, the more you had looked, the larger it seemed to appear. You kept your face off to the side and squint them shut as you prepare yourself for penetration, knowing it’s about to come as you feel the skin of his tip inching closer to your folds.

He guides the tip to rub in between the skin, up and down. He coats the muscle with the wetness that escaped you during his earlier performance, and before you know it, the sound swirling sound of wet skin swooshing against one another returns. The sound takes over your gasps as they die down from the break.

The sudden feeling of his face burrowing into the nook of your neck went unappreciated as you didn’t get the chance to apprize the feeling due to his entry that followed immediately after. The combination of his open lips against your neck, breathing out semi-harshly and the tip of his nose pressing into you right below your ear, enshrined the severity of his penetration. You felt the hot air from his breathing coating your neck, it condensates your skin as you feel drips of moisture trinkling down to your collarbone. The sharpness of his entry can’t be ignored, but the feeling of his face on your skin helped in distracting you from the pain, even though it was only slightly.

The sound and feeling of the vibration in his voice as he gasps and grunts into your neck takes you over the edge as he simultaneously thrusts in and out. He starts of deep but slow, going in, pulling out, just as the tip is edging its exit, only for him to thrust back in deeper than before. The feeling of pressure and being filled shrills you, it’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before he came into your life. It was overpowering, both enjoyable and painful.

The movement of your body shifting upwards became more prominent than before when he used his fingers. His hips bucking up into you dramatized the elevation of your weight. The moans were replaced with cries of immense stimulation as each thrust incites your muscles, causing them to contract and shake, ridding more moisture than before as it gushes out, only to be thrusted back in.

The feeling of his chest permanently attached to your back provided a feeling of comfort and safety. He felt so broad and hard, the width of your shoulders was not even half of his. Your hands rest on the sides of his seated hips, desperately trying to find something to latch on to from the excitement of the sting and ecstasy convulsing in your body. All you could feel was the smoothness of the faux leather seat, the flat surface giving you nothing. The feature of the newly modeled car allotted for the seat belt latches to remain hidden and tucked in between seats, to maintain a slick aesthetic appeal, which had ultimately work against you as you couldn’t dig them out with just your fingertips.

Desperate as the quivering sensation takes over your body, you reach up and grab on to his arm that remained steadfast and wrapped around your waist. You felt the muscles of his forearm as he slightly pushed you down each time he thrusted, then lift you when he partially exited. Upon feeling you reaching up and grabbing onto his arm, it propelled him to increase the pace, he burrows his face in deeper to the nook of your neck, causing his cap to fall completely off his head.

His soft hair cushions against the straight edge of your jawline. His heated gasps are now accompanied with soft kisses, the sensitivity of the skin on your neck shivers upon receiving them. The arm around your waist remains steady, even tightened as the pace grew, while his other hand rests on your inner thigh, gently applying pressure to maintain the spread of your legs. His fingertips tapping your skin every so often when your cries became harsh and out of breath.

“Uh! Baby. Fuck!” He states in between his gasps.

“You’re so damn beautiful, I’m so fucking lucky I get to be the one to do this to you.” The more he spoke in his low and calm tone, the more you felt yourself gushing out the natural essence of your body, which only promoted him to thrust in and out with ease.

“Fuck baby, keep getting wet for me, makes it easier to fuck you. You’re so fucking tight.”

He was right, it did make it easier for him to ravish you, the pace of each thrust came in faster, and faster. He was rough, but nowhere near as ferocious as his Ethan. There was still a soft side to Heeseung’s performance that allowed you to maintain some aspect of the setting, whereas his Ethan persona would normally induce you to a state of unawareness and peaked exhaustion.

The pace continued to go faster, unsure of how it was possible, yet all you could do was to take it. It didn’t matter how loud your cries and pleasuring moans were, the car was parked away and at a distance where no one could see, hear, or save you. You were at his mercy, for the pleasure was too great at times, you almost felt the desire to escape his grasp. Whenever you shifted, attempting to close your legs or extend your hips away from his groin, the hand that laid firmly on your inner thigh would hold you down and spread, reminding you that there was no escape, not even from the gentle Heeseung. His vigor remained ever present no matter what side he was taking, himself or Ethan. For both entities, the difference on the achievement didn’t matter, there was one goal that they shared to obtain, and that was to get the both of you to cum.

Suddenly, your body couldn’t take anymore. You felt your muscles violently contracting, the shaking of your body terminates the smooth sail of your body’s movements that had, up until that moment, followed in sync with his thrusts. Your hips jolt, up and down, left to right, only to be suppressed by his grab on you as he forces you to remain steady while he continues thrusting. The feeling was beyond overwhelming, it was too good that it was almost painful. Your body tries to fight it by shifting fiercely, trying to break free, yet the slap of his hand against your thigh as he pushes you down with his arm and strengthens his grab overpowers you, causing you to scream.

“Oh yeah, that’s it baby. Cum for me.” The feeling of his lips moving as he spoke, grazing against the sensitive area of your neck did not help the matter, your mind went into the state of confusion as to trying to configure if the sensation you were forced to succumb to was good or bad, or both.  All of which became null and void when your orgasm kicked in and put you on cloud nine.

His thrusts became heavier, deeper, and dowdy as the speed increased, all the while you became limp and barely out of breath as each weakened moan escaped you. The tingling high you felt in our gut shuddered your muscles as your body began to gradually release a fluid that is different from the natural lubricant it produced before. It felt sour, almost stingy but not at all painful, just overly euphoric. You couldn’t control it as you screamed and dug your fingertips into the arm around your waist, feeling him pushing you down as he felt the flow of your orgasm drowning his tip and trickling down his length.

Three deep thrusts in as you were cumming, you felt the fierceness of his gasps coughed against your neck as he releases into you. His hand that had rested gently on your inner thigh suddenly grabbed hold and just like you, the fingertips dug into your skin, pushing your thigh outwards more in the process while bruising the skin. A series of hard but slow thrusts followed suit, as if he was making sure every drip went deep inside.

What followed suit were everlasting moments of peaceful rest as you both regained your breaths, mainly you. Your raging pants were gently persuaded to calmness as you felt his hand rub and massage your chest, while his relentless kisses on your neck continued.

“Breathe for me. Breathe for me, baby.”

He calmly tells you, all the while his shaft remains in your body, surrounded by your warmth and softness.

[gg-university-if]

Okay I have loadsss to say!!!

Apologies in advance! It's a long rant. I'm excited.

Spoilers below!

All my ROs are Male so hence the pronouns my MC is a MLM

1. Beck is the most adorable fucking thing in the history of everything. I love him. Omggggggggggggggggg just how could your brain even come up with such a bean of a dude. He seems so stressed but so sweet. I adored his interaction with Jason it was so funny to read. And how much he actually misses his friend. Loved that I can have a crush on him because come on.

On that note tho:

Can I throw Ethan off a bridge???? Like Jesus dude cut it out. I see I'm gonna have issue with him on a beck route because dude doesn't know when to take a step back and not come off as a di....dingleberry!

2. The farewell with the fam was bittersweet as my MC has very complicated feeling towards the parents but Jace is just the best brother ever. Makes me sad I'm an only child.

3. Sids cute. ♥️ just so cute. Friendly and funny. Quite charming.

4. R is such a little lovebug. I love how we cldnt say no to him. And I had to stand up for him because no one gets to push my roommate around especially if they are really hot.

On that note again: ugh I want to punch Hader so badly... but I also want to romance him.. but I also wanted to throw a can at his head..empty can.. calm down.. 🙄 he can be glad he's hot and that I'm Slightly masochistic when doing IFs.. I also go for the your an asshole but i like you routes.. unfortunately 🥲

5. F seems like he is soooo fun! Very charismatic and DRAMATIC lol

6. Question. You said we would encounter EVERY (yes i saw that) RO.... did I see correctly and is there a secret RO.. and does that mean they are in the chapter? If it's Ethan end me now. It's gonna be an enemy to lovers route cuz he is aloooot.

Hmm what else..

I love the little things. Like choosing our aesthetics. Clothes, dorm room set up. It's a nice touch in customization. You love us awww 😭

Was wondering about customization and if MC is gonna have the option to have any piercings or tattoos their family know nothing about.

Oh I did see a bit of a typo I suppose. After Haders scene and meeting F. After you choose your food in the cafeteria. Instead of saying as you take a "bite out of your chicken katsu curry" it says take a "sip" but that's all I noticed. Also if you ever need beta readers.... 👀👀👀👀

Overall I loved the entire update. I can't wait to interact more with everyone. And as I'm on a music scholarship Hader is gonna have to get used to my MC talking back 🙄 it's great. Your writing is great. This is so fun to read and reading it brought a smile to my face. Thank you for working so hard on it. ♥️

Spoilers under the cut, let's break this down!

I love, love, love all the detail!

So I'll try and answer or have a comment for each bit since you made so much effort to give me feedback when you didn't need to.

Fun fact: Sid and the male form of one of the ROs are actually holdovers from an ill-starred short-lived mlm fic I wrote before GGGLU ever existed.

1. I'm so glad you liked Beck! I was worried that people would get irritated with him or end up not liking his personality but I thought the way I wrote him was most authentic to the story I wanted to tell for his route. He's so exhausted but so willing to help and isn't that just the cutest thing ever?

Ethan is Ethan, you'll definitely get your chance to be snarky and put down some fighting words with Ethan in the future. Infact at no point do you have to come to like him for Beck's Route but I can atleast say that there is a reason that he is Beck's University BFF and to a certain extent in my mind it makes his character a lot more...understandable if not your cup of tea.

2. (Obviously) there's the death of the author and I don't get to dictate how others interpret my writing but I'm so glad that you saw it the same way that I saw that scene when I was writing it because to a certain extent parting is a bittersweet moment for the MC regardless of how they feel about Jace and their parents.

3. Sid is adorable, just a ball of pop punk flavored sunshine. Was definitely one of my favorite characters to write in this part of the chapter and as a music scholarship MC you might be seeing more of them...but I'll shut my mouth for now.

4. Yeah I had debated allowing the MC to deny R and totally skip the cafeteria scene but I thought it was more fun if it was a compulsory event and the idea that R already has so much sway over the MC is sorta funny to me.

Hader is a bag of emotions and definitely stormy ones at that, I can't promise he'll ever be B or R levels of adorable but I can say that Riley wasn't lying when he said Hader isn't always like that and that usually he's a little more hot than scary and broody than angry.

The intended effect for my Hader-mancers was that they would want to punch and kiss him at the same time and seeing as they were already simping I had to ramp up the punching bit.

5. Fred is also good fun to write, I keep on saying this but also one of my favorites to write this time round and also one of the hardest for me. I'm not naturally a very dramatic or big personality so it's hard to write someone who is naturally charming and affable, I'm happy it was able to work somewhat as intended.

6. Hehehe the secret RO is in the demo currently and seeing as they're already implemented it's not a particularly big deal for me to reveal them BUT seeing as you guessed wrong I guess I'll be keeping it a secret for a little while longer.

A little hint: part of the reason H is so angry has to do with our beloved secret RO.

7. Customization is going to come as necessary to the story, things like tattoos and piercings are planned to come in part 2 of chapter one.

At some point you'll have a chance to get bigger tattoos but so early in the story the only tattoos you can have hidden from your parents will be pretty small.

8. I do need beta readers 😭😭😭 but I don't know how to get in contact with anyone through the proper routes and I'm famously awful with Discord amongst my friends.

If I ever figure out how to set up a Discord or interact with readers outside of Tumblr itself through the proper routes of communication then you will definitely be at the top of the list!!!

Finally we're at the end, thank you for giving me such a comprehensive breakdown of your experience. I really couldn't and wouldn't be able to write if it wasn't for your encouragement and excitement to push me forward to write.

I'm glad my writing style is atleast palatable and I'm more than ecstatic that it was able to provide a momentary amount of joy when reading.

Thank you for reading!

[nepalsaysrawr]

Meiker April Fools Recap (Y2K24 edition)

April 12, 2024

Alright, it's final. This year's limited-time April Fools special is now officially BENCHED, as just what tradition dictates! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you... THE TRAGIC TALE OF APRIL FOOLS PRANK #3, "THE PAYWALL"!

Last year, I had this idea for a paywall-themed prank, but I ditched it for a solitaire-themed prank, so this year, I decided to bring back this idea and give it a go. I created the "game" a few weeks before April Fools, where I had plans to upload it on March 31, but due to a birthday vacation, I wouldn't upload it until the time I went home on late April Fools day. I let it stay for almost 2 weeks, due to another sojourn (AGAIN!) before killing it off for good. Addio, my dear prank, we hardly knew ye.

Some screenshots of the darn thing (most of which were taken on the day it went live on the day after April Fools' Day)

This is how it appeared in the New Games section, aside from my pizza game, which thankfully is still up till this day.

It even landed a sunny spot on the Trending section and at some point made it to the first place. No wonder why everyone got themselves fooled in the first place. Sweet. Kekeke.

This, on the other hand was a pic of the description and tags. Yes, they were indeed the real-a deal.

Once hitting up that Play button, you'd be greeted with this thing. So if you were wondering why you'd need to pay a thousand dollars to play this thing and gain all those privileges, it was all nothing more than a weird ruse I concocted. In fact, this game even admitted it! Don't worry, I won't put future games under paywalls. My games are free and will always be free. On the other hand, you'll get to see the fuller version of the message down below, without watermarks this time:

As you can see here, I took some inspo from old infomercials to create this message, but with my own twists. I originally was going for a standard blue backdrop or a Frutiger Aero style, but went on with a galaxy-inspired look.

And now for the abosolute truth behind all this. All the items in the game were clones of the icon below which on the other hand were snuck behind the message with categories placed under the [fixed] tag.

But wait! How 'bout the icon for the game itself?

Yes, this was also the real deal just like the description, I'm not kidding. I only used a simple gradient I made, added in some text, and a doodle of Mei (the Meiker mascot for starters) as a police officer. Sometimes simplicity is the best policy.

And that's a wrap for this year's April Fools prank recap. Tune in next year for another exciting April Fools deal! Or hopefully!

[cosmicluzer]

hi asking about ur Gross wip in the hopes that the song fic title is from the song i know that is titled “Gross” also 👀

if you are thinking penelope scott’s gross then you are thinking correct lol. kind of hoping you are - that song is one of my personal favorites hehe. kinda sad if it is - the original idea got warped into something WAY more fluffy than gross is, but never fear bc that song will return with its intended angst wether i have to force myself to write it or not.

anyways, you probably won’t have toooo much interest in it, seeing as it isn’t for sp. it’s a one piece (live action bc i love them) fanfic, because i am a liar and a fandom hopping fraud. I was scrolling through my yt shorts one day and stumbled upon that one “you dated brutal dictator of Nicaragua?!” meme and my brain went: “oh. i can do something with this. Small snippet under the cut ;P

REMINDER THAT THIS IS A WIP AND A ROUGH DRAFT AND THAT I KINDA SUCK AT WRITING OK OK GOOD NOW PROCEED WITH CAUTION

Sanji is washing the dishes, the rest of the crew sitting at the dining table conversing. He flits in and out of the conversation, adding bits here and there as he continues his task. The day is peaceful, and Sanji feels at rest.

Nami sits, legs crossed over the top of the chair next to her - Zoro’s - with the newspaper propped into her lap. Zoro sits in his chair, slouching against it and looking mildly annoyed at Nami’s legs at the back of his chair but not saying a word about it. Across the table is Usopp, tinkering on seas knows what, and Luffy, content in gnawing through a bundle of fish jerky Sanji made earlier that morning.

The breeze is light, floating through the open windows and door. The sunshine shines brightly through into the galley, and with the crew this docile together it’s, well… peaceful, like he’s said before.

Of course, that’s when they decide to throw the conversat into a depth Sanji is thoroughly avoiding, and has been since six months after… that.

“Usopp, how long were you and Kaya together?” Luffy asks, interrupting Usopp’s story - one about Kaya, and those were the closest you can get to the truth from him.

Usopp pauses at the words, face going slightly red as he sputters out a reply.

“W-Well, Luffy, the great captain Usopp speaks not of the mountains of women he’s conquered! It is not befitting to-“

“They weren’t together,” Nami says, looking at Usopp with an unsurprised look. “He’s too chicken for that.” With that, she turns her attention back to her newspaper, flipping the page and reading it off.

“Hey-!”

“Did you ever have someone like Usopp didn’t have Kaya?” Luffy asks, because the kid can’t read a room. Usopp lets out an offended noise, and Nami doesn’t even look up from the paper as she speaks next.

“Nope, no time for that.”

Luffy hums, looking over the table. He goes to speak, most likely to ask the question to Zoro, but the green-headed swordsman interrupts him.

“No, Luffy. That’s not my style. Why not ask cook?” Zoro’s tone turns from unamused to smug, and he smirks. He turns in his seat to face Sanji, who has gone back to vigorously scrubbing the plate in his hand as he hopes to be kept out of the conversation. “He’s seen the most people, he must have great stories.”

Sanji turns, sneering at Zoro, before he grabs the next plate and gets to scrubbing.

“Sanji! Tell me a story!” Luffy shouts from his spot, getting excited. Nami turns her attention from her newspaper, looking mildly intrigued. Sanji sighs.

“No. I gave you food, occupy yourself.” Sanji shouts over his shoulder, and Luffy pouts.

“C’mon, Sanji. You must have a good story for us.” Nami says, trying to bait him into it. Everyone turned to face him, Usopp and Luffy putting on their best puppy dog eyes in hopes for some entertainment. Sanji pauses his fish washing, considering before shaking his head and turning around.

“I’m sorry, Nami dearest, but there truly is nothing for me to discuss on this topic. There has been nobody of notice in that area of my life, and besides, a gentleman does not kiss and tell.” He says, using a tone of remorse. Nami quirks an eyebrow at him, face going from casual to interested.

“Was that a lie, Sanji-san?” Nami asks, face breaking out into an amused smirk.

Of fucking course the brilliant redhead would see through his lie. He sighs, admitting defeat.

“You truly are too clever for your own good, my swan.” He says, moving to the table and sitting in an empty seat. The other three males look at him with varying degrees of surprise - it is very out of character for Sanji to lie to the crew let alone Nami, a woman.

“Sanji, share!” Luffy whines, wanting to hear what could possibly be such a grandiose secret to Sanji that he’d hide it.

“Be quiet, Luffy, I’m thinking of where to start.”

“How about the beginning, curly.” Zoro says, and Sanji so wants to ring the other man’s throat for being so smug. Instead, he takes a deep breath.

“Alright,” Sanji exhales, grabbing at the pack of cigs in his pocket and the lighter sitting near them. He knows he’ll need a cigarette to get through this. “So this story starts about five years ago…”

[multifandomfern]

👀

Ok so I've had an Angels and Devils AU for Gerame in my head for a while. It's a lot, so I'll put it under the cut.

In this AU angels and devils are enemies. They hate each other and constantly fight. A risky angel and daring devil fall in love and have a child. Frightened that they'll be found out, they abandon the baby and break up. The baby looks like an angel with a halo and wings, but he has fire power which is something only devils have. (devils can have fire and shadow powers while angels can have healing and water powers in this AU)

A young devil named Gilbert comes across the baby and is at first scared because it's an angel. But then he "confronts" the baby and figures out he has fire power. Gilbert is intrigued and decides to become the baby's awesome big brother. Gilbert raises Ludwig along with another devil named Arthur, and they teach him how to control his power. They hide him away from the other devils but try planning a way to explain the situation and not get shunned.

But those plans quickly get left in the dust when a new leader takes over with an extreme hatred for angels, even worse than before. Leader, he's more of a dictator. So Gilbert and Arthur help Ludwig escape their devil society or something not exactly sure what lol. But anyways Ludwig escapes and eventually finds himself among angels. He's really excited to see others like him, but he's also incredibly shy, a mix of nurture and nature. He struggles to find a place there until he meets Alfred.

Alfred is a pretty popular angel. He plays Skyball and is really good at it. (it's a made up angel sport lol) Alfred, he gets attention from everyone except his father Francis. Francis isn't exactly neglectful, but for some reason he's always busy working or worrying over Alfred's twin, Matthew. Matt is a quieter angel without any powers. Even though he got no powers Alfred envies him since he gets their father's attention and can get along with everyone. Alfred may be popular, but that doesn't mean he can get along with everyone.

When Alfred meets Ludwig he finds him interesting. Ludwig isn't like everyone else. He's blunt, awkward, shy and weirdly clueless about angels. Ludwig claims to come from far far away which Alfred unsuccessfully questions. Still Alfred enjoys Ludwig's attention, so he doesn't think too hard about it. The two start hanging out more and start finding themselves falling in love. Ludwig has a moment of almost telling Alfred the truth, but before he can, devils are evil comes up, that trope lol.

Continuing with tropes, devils later find the angels and attack them which leads to a reunion between Gilbert and Ludwig. Alfred sees and hurts Gilbert thinking he was going to hurt Ludwig. Ludwig gets mad and Alfred gets confused, and Ludwig finally explains. Alfred is angry and betrayed, so he leaves. Ludwig is heartbroken but pushes away his feelings in favor of helping Gilbert.

Then later there's of course an apology and forgive ness scene. So Alfred and Ludwig get back on good terms and realize angels and devils don't have to fight. So they make plans to stop the fighting and create peace. They gather people up like Arthur, Francis, Matthew and other characters in this AU I haven't mentioned. Then it's revealed that Matthew has fire power meaning he's part devil. That leads to Arthur coming out as trans, bisexual and as Francis's lover. Alfred and Matthew are Francis and Arthur's sons.

Then things somehow get resolved, I haven't really thought about that yet, but everyone is happy and accepting.

This AU is filled with tropes and cheesiness, but I still love thinking about it. I really do want to write it, but I honestly don't think I ever will. It's really confusing, long and things are always changing in it, so I think it'll just be something that lives in my head. If anyone wants to write it or take any ideas, feel welcome to. I'd just like credit and to be tagged :D

[fate-magical-girls]

The Queen had low expectations for her husband. Unimpressive, coddled, unpredictable...that was the basic impression she deduced from rumors and the ambassadors' sugarcoated descriptions. She could imagine even wilder scenarios, but that didn't matter. She didn't expect to live with him any longer than she absolutely needed to. Only long enough for the royal court to get used to her as the queen, and then she would dispose of this unneeded partner. He wouldn't be the first man she killed, and likely wouldn't be the last.

The King, however, had high expectations for his wife. Very high ones. Sure, there were all these rumors about a wild, hateful, arrogant virago of a princess who stabbed a knight for displeasing her, and whose last suitor backed out of betrothal when he heard news of the stabbing, but her portrait...even filtered through a layer of oil paint, she's the liveliest and prettiest woman he's ever seen. He takes her portrait into his study, so it can keep him company as he works. And when he's not working, he spends long minutes staring at her lovely face, especially those lush lips that seem every ready to break into a laugh. He almost can't believe that such a sweet face would stab a man, but there's something fierce about her eyes. As the betrothal is finalized and the wedding day grows closer, he's a ball of excitement and anxiety. Hours spent with the portrait become a ritual -- an obligation -- an addiction. He knows he can't hope for someone so beautiful to love him, but he'll at least be able to look at her and hear her voice, and hopefully not get called a creep. And yet he dreads being a burden for yet another person who deserved better than to waste their time on him. Especially a wife -- what would he even do with a wife? Sometimes he barely felt like a person, so how could he be a husband? Or maybe she would just stab him and that would be that. Grimly, he wonders if this would be the best thing for him...

They meet for the first time right before the wedding. Then there's the wedding feast and the wedding night. Enough time for them to talk to each other and be surprised. And then they keep being surprised in the days to come.

The Queen realizes her husband is a better man than she expected. He's not a bad looking man at all, certainly less generic than his portrait. And he's much more energetic and interesting than his heavily dictated letters would suggest. What he doesn't have in political acumen he makes up for in patience and kindness and sincerity. Yes, he has his pet peeves and insufferable habits, but so did everyone else. So long as she respects him, listens to him explain, and then tells him exactly what she needs him to do and why she needs him to do it, he could be perfectly rational and understanding.

She had disavowed love long ago, when she set out to accomplish her ambitions. And yet she finds herself wanting to be around her king, and wanting to be affectionate with him. Because how could she not, when he values her as much as he does the beetles which are his life passion?

The King finds out his wife is as lively and beautiful as he expected. She's also intelligent and highly capable, and starts cleaning up his country's problems as soon as he asks her to rule for him. And yes, she's definitely fierce, but never toward him. She protects him and listens to him and encourages his creative side. That said, she does have one unexpected flaw, and that's her constant nagging. She always watches him closely, fussing over him to stay warm, eat right, sleep at decent hours of the night, walk in the garden under the sunlight...She even made a scene admonishing the servants who hadn't stocked enough firewood for his study, even though he had gotten used to being cold and the servants had gotten used to leaving him alone...Still, as annoying as she could be, he enjoyed knowing she cared for him.

He has had crushes before, but none of them match what he feels for his wife. He craves her presence so much it hurts. How could he not, when she would put all her ambitions on hold for him?

She kisses him first, when they both pretend to sleep as they lie in bed together. She can read the desire in his eyes, and surely he's seen her attempts to flirt with him. Yet it remains a frustrating game where he's too scared to make the first move and she's too proud to beg him for affection.

Their first real kiss is in the gardens. They were bent over together, observing some pollinator beetles. Suddenly the King notices their foreheads are pressed together, and he can smell the mousse in his wife's hair. He halts his explanation about this beetle species and stares at her. Then he seizes her arms and leans close. She tenses at first, then blushes and leans in as well.

But he hesitates. And then he lets go and turns away. She's left feeling embarrassed and not in a good way.

"What's wrong?" She demands. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

"Of course I want to kiss you..." He whips back to look at her, clearly scared and frustrated. "But I know you wouldn't like that. I like you and I want you to like me. You're so pretty I'd be happy just looking at you, and I'm really, really glad that you're nice to me and talk to me and listen to me talk. And I don't want that to stop because I did something you don't like."

For a moment, the garden is silent except for his ragged breathing.

She mulls over what he has said, and she beckons to him. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me. I won't dislike it."

He can't believe what he heard, but he's desperate and he'd be an idiot to refuse her. He dives in and kisses her. Not gracefully. But he finally kisses her. And after that she shows him how to kiss the right way.

At the end of their little tryst, she tells him, "I like it when you kiss me."

It takes a long time, and him saving her from assassins, for her to admit, "I like kissing you."

And at some point, after they're able to have a good laugh about the expectations they had for each other. The King shows the Queen the portrait he's kept in his study. It embarrasses her because it had been rushed out on short notice, and her husband deserves a better keepsake. And she also needs a better portrait of him, one that actually looks like him.

She pesters him to get a proper portrait painted. He admits he has a hard time holding still during his sessions. She grins and tells him she has a solution for that.

The royal painter receives a commission for a double portrait, one where the Queen is sitting in the King's lap.

I think the funniest dynamic for arranged-marriage royalty would be a queen who came here 100% prepared to murder her future husband and rule as a widow queen in her own right, only to discover that the king is autistic as hell and responds to her wish to rule with "oh thank god please do, I don't want to be bothered by these people. I can just tell them to go bother you instead, if you really want that. I've got beetles I wanted to study."

[rjmhereunderprotest]

I Miss My PC Games

Years ago, I had a desktop like pretty much everyone else. Had all my stuff on it. All my games. All my work. Everything important to me at that time. Then, out of the blue, the whole rig just died on me. The disk drive gave out. I lost everything prior to my back ups. It was devastating. Since then I've been using a succession of laptops, one after the other, as my desk where the desktop used to be has become cluttered with stuff. I've kept saying I'll get a new one, I never have. And something always seems to go wrong with my laptops sooner or later to boot. This one I'm currently writing on is honestly reaching the end of its lifecycle. I'm considering getting a new one.

But I suspect, the next laptop won't be anywhere near powerful enough to work with any of my games. The ones I've had sitting in storage, waiting for installation. I've repurchased them digitally from Steam of course, but the laptop can't play them. Hell, about all I can play on this thing is Doom, which isn't very impressive. Doom plays on everything. Meanwhile all the other games I want to play with, the old favorites, the franchises I love? Sitting in a corner or stuck in the cloud.

Every year I get especially nostalgic around this time. I remember things I missed and haven't seen in a while. So, because I'm feeling extra sad because of... everything, I wanted to try and cheer myself up some, remembering fond memories of the games I used to play. And hope, one day, to play again.

First a brief disclaimer, I'm excluding a few games based on the fact I can still play them with minimum difficulty. It's also based on how comfortable I am playing them on the consoles they're available on. As well as the quality of the remaster or console release. There's some exceptions to this, but not many. So let's start.

RTS games were always a big thing for me. Playing the general in a massive war never failed to excite my young mind. Empire Earth appealed to my inherent history nerd, more so than most as it didn't tie itself down to to a singular era or form of combat. From the Stone Age to the far future, you could command all sorts of armies to absolute victory.

With four campaigns in total, Greek, English, German and Russia, each with their own distinct settings, it was an amazing slice of history to play around in. I remember spending hours upon hours battling from Medieval England to the Napoleonic Wars under the English banner. Where else could I go from knights to muskets in the span of a few minutes?

A lot of my time though was spent on the German and Russian campaigns, although I didn't particularly like the final missions of the German campaign because it involved an alt-history scenario where the Nazis. As I'll explain, I don't like helping the Nazis. I prefer to kill them. The WW1 levels though were pretty good. Fighting through Verdun, brutal, but very rewarding.

The Russian campaign, that was something else entirely. A completely original story set in the future where brutal Russian dictator seizes power and attempts to conquer the whole world. Only he can't live forever to see it through, so he downloads his mind into a robot successor, who becomes even more brutal in its insane quest for power. The only hope in the end is for a heroic pair of warriors to travel back in time and stop the dictator before he ever comes to power. It was a really fun campaign... although I imagine a reemergent Russian Empire is not exactly as fun to talk about these days.

There was an expansion that added new campaigns, including an American one spanning most of the Pacific War. As well as another future campaign with a new epoch to expand into, the space age. Now that was a hard campaign, I much preferred the Pacific War, as a I'm always invested in the World Wars historically. I'm sure someone big into Roman history would've enjoyed the Roman campaign way more than I did, although I like it fine.

What was great about Empire Earth was how much it revered history as much as I did and used history to tell its own stories. It's unfortunate we don't get more RTS games that are willing to span the length of history. Nor as many that will take on less well known or used eras in history. There really should be more WW1 Real time Strategy games honestly, far too few in my mind. Sadly, the game is still only on PC. I mean, the RTS genre works best on it. But really, with advances in tech that's making consoles basically just PCs in their own right, it should be a lot easier to adapt them to consoles more often. If only to make it easier for everyone play them.

This one might be more familiar to you as a result of some recent developments. Age of Mythology was always right up my alley. As a student of history, I was also always drawn to the myths born of history. An RTS that explores Greek, Egyptian and Norse myths? Sign me up! You don't know the true joy that can come from raising an army of Hydras that only get stronger the more heads they grow. Or watching an alligator with a sun beam laser burn through enemy fortresses. Or summoning Nidhogg the dragon to basically annihilate your enemies from on high. Simply the best.

I played through the whole campaign at least twice, because I was that obsessed with it at the time. It was the only way I could use more of the crazy awesome units available to you in this game. Scorpions, Valkyries, Krakens, Anubis Soldiers, there's a friggin turtle that you can use to transport troops! And let's not forget the god powers, summoning meteors from the sky is never not fun!

It was also just really nice to see Egyptian mythology represented for once. I do love me Ancient Egypt and it's pantheon of Gods. Sadly, they're not as used as the Norse or Greeks for things. Which is really a shame, they got some killer stuff that is worth adapting. In AoM, we actually help assemble Osiris so he can come back to life and help stop the apocalypse! I feel there's a bit of a concern among people though, that they'll get it wrong and offend someone. Which I can sorta understand. But not using Egyptian Myth to create media is almost as bad as getting it wrong.

I suppose I should just be happy they aren't going to have Kratos kill all my favorite Egyptian Gods. At least I can be grateful for that much.

You might be asking, why not just play the Retold remaster? I would, but it's just not the same. Something feels lost in the dialogue and delivery of the updated campaign. I don't know if its me or I'm just misremembering it, but I felt Arkantos had a much better commanding presence with his original voice actor. Now he just sounds off. Don't get me started on Gargarensis. He just sounds all kinds of wrong, his evil poetry doesn't read the same. Also, the achievements are a problem too. So ridiculously overly difficult. I'd be forced to play the game forever just to get most of them. Not really worth it in my mind sadly.

Overall, I'd rather play the original on PC, not as many issues there. But at least I still have the original disc if I ever want to go back.

Let's switch this up, Crimson Skies is an arcade-style flight combat game. One that, in my mind, is one of the few alt-history settings I'm still actually interested in post-TNO and what it did. More on that, but not too much, later. Right now, it's the Fortune Hunters' time!

You play Nathan Zachary, ace fighter pilot and ex-playboy who leads a band of merry sky pirates, the Fortune Hunters, in an alternate 1930s America that has split apart following the stock market crash of 1929. In this Balkanized United States, conflict is ever present and railroads and highways are no longer safe for travel and trade. Which means zeppelins have become the new means of import and export and that's opened the path back up for the cutthroats of the world to start a new golden age of piracy!

I love planes, and Crimson Skies offers so many to choose from. All of them wildly imaginative in design, from reverse construction with the propeller in the back, to planes with rear turrets in their tails, bi-wing design or whatever crazy stuff you can think of.

If nothing else, Crimson Skies drew me in with its cast of colorful characters, pulpy action-packed storyline, and damn good dogfighting action. Seriously, so of the most fun I've had flying the unfriendly digital skies was in this game alone. I've pretty much measured every flight sim and air combat game by its metric. If it's not nearly as fun as Crimson Skies, it isn't worth my time.

The game did get a sequel, on consoles no less, which is backwards compatible, even better. High Road to Revenge is indeed a great game... however, it's downsized. The cast of Fortune Hunters is cut down to three, which includes Nathan, so it's more like two. It's not nearly as long, there aren't many returning characters or factions, and frankly it's just more simplified in its roster of planes and upgrades. It's a good game, but its not the original, which is nowhere to be found on any console, remastered or otherwise. It's not even on steam. If you can get a physical copy, good for you. Probably might cost you a bit though. But the truth is, if I ever want to play Crimson Skies' original entry ever again, I'll need to get a new PC.

I don't even understand why there hasn't been a new entry in the franchise. Microsoft just lets it lay there on the shelf, practically abandoned. I wanted to see what this world's WW2 would've ended up looking like. Can you imagine how a United States with such divided ideologies would end up like? Trust me, something like THAT would be worth exploring.

From a past that never was, to a far future in space where none can hear you scream and if it bleeds we can kill it. Aliens vs Predator 2 is the pinnacle of either franchise in shooter form. There have been many games since featuring both the xenomorphs and predators, but none have ever reached these heights since.

Playing as a Marine is perfectly fine for those just looking for a solid FPS experience, but it's really only the tip of the iceberg. Being able to play as the Alien, facehugger to warrior brings an entirely new dynamic to the game as you become primarily focused on stealth more than anything. Similar to the Predator, but you have more weaponry and other abilities that switch things up considerably.

Each campaign had its own feel to it, following branching paths of the same storyline. Everything you could ever want out of these franchises is here. From the Marines' assault rifles, to the Xenomorph being able to skewer enemies with its tail, to the Predator's plasma cannon and thermal vision. And each of them feel powerful in their own right.

While I can always pick of the eventual sequel to this that came out on consoles, it's still not the same. Something about this entry just feels the best of all of them as it wasn't too reliant on nostalgia and fanservice as others. It was just focused on telling a story in this world, helped along by the Aliens vs Predator comics that were so prevalent around this time. Don't take this as me complaining about how Disney owns both IPs now, its not. I just recognize that, at the time, games based on big IPs weren't as concerned about recreating moments you're familiar with. They were concerned with getting the feeling down.

I really don't want this to sound like I'm complaining, so I'm making that clear. AvP2 just wasn't worried about reminding you why you liked these two franchises because their place in pop culture was more recent and known to the target demographic. Regardless, maybe we're starting to see a resurgence. The success of "Prey" and "Alien: Romulus" proves there is still life in these franchises, and maybe they'll actually meet up again in the future. Although if they do, one would hope they follow this game's lead. Send in the Marines! Come on, it's been decades since an Alien movie has featured the Marines! Disney, you have James Cameron on payroll now! Ask him to make the next AvP movie with the Colonial Marines once he's done with Avatar! Come on, give people an excuse to release a new AvP game or at least remaster the old ones.

Freedom Force is a comic book lover's dream, a top down RPG in the vein of Diablo but starring Superheroes, in a Silver Age 1960s ripped straight out of the panels. If you love classic comics of the era, whether DC or Marvel, Freedom Force checks every friggin box.

There are so many awesome characters in this, it's hard to pick a favorite. Minuteman, the leader of the team. A clear stand-in for Captain America, save for the fact he's not actually a frozen WW2 Soldier, but an aging scientist who worked on the Manhattan project, revitalized into a younger version of himself with twice the strength and patriotic bravado because an alien chemical landed on him. Yeah, it's basically that sort of game throughout. The Any is basically Spider-Man, but he got Ant powers, again, because of alien chemicals. Man-Bot, former playboy, got in an accident, hit by the chemicals, forced to live in a metal suit forever. You get the picture.

You work your way through chapter after chapter fighting a variety of bad guys and enemies in various scenarios that you could've found in any of the comics of the 1960s. There's even some cutscenes done in the style of those old comic books. Your powers even make the same sort of sound effect onomatopoeia that is so connected to the medium. It is very clear the creators loved old comic books. Oh by the way, Ken Levine of BioShock fame worked on this, just to let you know.

There was an expansion, this one featuring time travel, where the heroes go back in time to stop Nazis from re-writing history. It introduced some new heroes, including my two favorites, Green Genie and Tombstone. The former, a fun loving Muslim-girl whose powers have granted her reality warping powers and green skin. The latter, a wrongfully accused man who was executed in the electric chair just as the alien energies struck the power lines. Turning him into a badass skeletal specter who punishes the guilty. He might be a little out of place in the Silver Age, but damn it if he isn't cool.

I don't play a lot of games like Freedom Force, the Diablo-Style mechanics can be overwhelming. But it had a number of features that made it easier to handle, such as pausing the action to plan out attacks. This made the gameplay a lot more accessible but no less fun, as picking the right team of heroes and upgrading them effectively to face any foe was pretty much half the fun. It's been forever since I've played the game, but I still remember the joy I got watching Minuteman clock a goon in the face straight up before shouting "FOR FREEDOM" at the top of his lungs.

If only they had made a sequel, they would've expanded out to future comic book eras and added even more heroes and villains based on those periods. Sadly, while it is on steam, it's not on consoles and probably never will be because it's not exactly the most well-known superhero game out there. I don't believe in this "superheroes are played out" nonsense people claim is going around. That's simplifying cultural shifts in my mind. There's always going to be a place for superheroes, in films and games.

I just wanna watch Green Genie change some dude into a flower vase while Tombstone shoots a goon with his dual blaster guns. Is it weird I ship them? It's probably weird I ship them together.

Alright, time for another alt-history and RTS game, this one a bit more interesting in my mind, as its about the Soviet Union, recognizing its about to die and can't sustain itself, makes the Cold War go hot, invading West Berlin before the rest of Germany and Europe. Finally taking the war to the shores of America on the very day in our timeline when the Berlin Wall was supposed to come down.

My version of the game is played exclusively from the American perspective, leading company of US Army Soldiers as they tried to turn back the red tide as it sweeps through Washington State. The ultimate goal being to take back Seattle before America and Russia inevitably turn this conflict into a nuclear one.

There was an expansion I never played because I rarely care about playing the obvious bad guys. Soviet Assault gave the game more missions from the Russian point of view and greater towards the larger conflict. You don't actually change the outcome of the campaign, this doesn't add a new ending, as the Soviet missions play out parallel to the American ones. But they got a long way to showing a different side to the events unfolding in the story.

For me, World in Conflict was a seminal game and a core memory, important to crafting my ideas concerning how to tell a war story. It had some of the most exciting missions and gameplay in an RTS, focusing purely on commanding units rather than base building. It kept the action fluid and constant. And it made you very careful about which units you ordered into the fight and how you used them.

The real fun part was when the game let you go all out with artillery and air strikes. That was the big draw honestly. If you accumulated enough combat points and did well enough in objectives, you'd gain access to powerful strike capabilities that could turn the tide of battle. Napalming Soviets on the highway or targeting occupied buildings with surgical airstrikes is supremely satisfying. And with how often enemies will get in close, you will be shouting "Broken Arrow" more often than not.

I'm pretty sure every current edition of the game is packaged with Soviet Assault, completing the overall experience. All I know is, without a proper PC rig, I cannot run the game anymore. So I'm locked out of one of my favorite RTS games with one of the best campaigns I've played in a long time.

They say every time you mention this game, someone, somewhere reinstalls it. I can believe that, it's just it's never been an option for me for a good while. Vampire: The Masquerade: Bloodlines is just one of those RPGs that manages to succeed despite itself. Not because of anything it fails at, but because its development was screwed and it was released in such a sorry state. Fixing it proved to be more than a little difficult, but fans pulled through and have been consistently adding onto the game for years since, long after the license has expired.

For me, this was the one time in my life I actually wanted to play as a vampire. When it comes to supernatural creatures, vampires are always last on my fantasy list. Bloodlines somehow managed to make it something worth playing, by abandoning some clichés, enhancing stronger tropes, playing around with the mythology and actually making the Vampires interesting as a species and culture. I tend to better respect something that can defy my usually and admittedly steadfast and stubborn edicts. If you can somehow get me to like something I'd otherwise hate, you have my respect forever. That's Bloodlines, it made being a vampire fascinating.

Not because Vampires were all powerful or anything, but because they were all so deeply fucked up. The game blatantly admits that vampire society is basically full of scheming, conniving backstabbers. That they're all absolutely terrified of their own disease that gives them so much power and are constantly fearful of being extinguished. Their entire society revolves less around controlling the world, and more around just surviving by any means necessary. It's a sad existence, but they don't really have a choice. It's this or damnation. And even then, they're all still worried about a possible coming apocalypse that will spell unspeakable doom. And you, as a fledgling vampire, get caught up in the middle of all this, as a pawn of various factions and individuals, all out for each other's blood. At the end of the day, your job is the same as everyone's, survive.

It's a unique take on vampires, basically admitting that you're a blood-sucking parasite and you're probably on borrowed time. Best you can hope for is to try and make it to the next sunset alive. And seeing how all these different vampires deal with the reality of their existence, none of them really good, but not exactly evil, humanized them somewhat in my mind.

And yes, fine, Jeanette Voerman is super hot and I love her and all that. I really love her and her sister's storyline. Her school girl outfit and pony tails did things to me, whatever. I'm not going to lie about what I am, but I would prefer not to be mistaken for a stupid gooner gamer. I played this game several times over for a lot more reasons than just Jeanette you know.

I also really liked playing the Malkavian for the funny dialogue.

Obviously, since it has no console release, I can't play it anymore. And it looks like the long gestating sequel is going to be an entirely different animal that is slowly losing my interest as more about it is revealed. I don't even know if Damsel is still showing up or if I can customize my character at all anymore. And that's if it even comes out. Next chance I get to play this game, I'm going to do my first playthrough with something other than a Malkavian for once. My original playthrough was with Brujah, which was fine, and I prefer being a Malkavian overall. But I think I need to try something new for next go around.

And maybe fix the dialogue fonts too, they never appeared how they were supposed to.

I don't know why we keep trying to colonize Mars when it's just gonna cause problems. All the video games say it will. Red Faction was one of them. Sold on the very exciting concept of being able to destroy the environment around you to create shortcuts or take out enemies, Red Faction was a kickass shooter about rebelling against corporate tyranny on Mars.

Created by the dudes who would later go on to make the Saints Row series, Red Faction might have otherwise been an average shooter was its environment destruction mechanic not its focal point. Being a miner on Mars gave you access to a lot of explosives, honestly the Ultor corporation should've seen this coming. So as a result, within the very first level of the game, you're already blowing up walls or busting through floors to push forward. Before long you'll be doing the same to take out towers, bunkers or maybe just get past a locked door.

Don't get me wrong though, it is a fun game. I've taken a lot from it honestly and the idea of fighting corporate tyranny never gets old. I just recognize that there isn't much else that separates it from other games of the era. Although it took some seriously crazy swerves. Fighting an evil psychic-enhanced mad scientist and all his creepy mutant creations was not what I was expecting to take up a good portion of the second act. Let me tell you.

It's been so long, but a lot of the game still remains fresh in my mind, even if its less gameplay and more specifics. Really though, none of the other Red Faction games did it for me in the same way. The Rebels became exceedingly unlikable come "Red Faction Guerilla" and the actual Red Faction 2 is not at all connected with this one. Strangely, I could play this game again without the PC, it's on the Playstation 2, which I have. I just haven't gone out of my way is all. I suppose its because it's never been more core console. I am an Xbox gamer. I know, a lot of you probably want to call me scum right now. I get it. But I still love the system, nothing you say is gonna change that, no matter how crappy the company can act. It's not like they're the only ones being dicks in the gaming market today.

Just to be clear, this is the whole series, which are too many to really name as of now. Getting into all of them would take too long. Let's just say, C&C had a huge impact on me and it has not left me since I first played around in their worlds.

From fighting the Brotherhood of Nod and it's seemingly ageless charismatic leader Kane, to thwarting psychic megalomaniac Yuri in Red Alert 2's expansion pack, I am intimately familiar with the series' ins and outs. As well as its highs and... lows. Real big lows.

Let's not mix words here, EA fucked this series. It fucked it so hard. They wanted to turn it into an E-Sports game to rake in Starcraft money and it failed so hard. They ruined the Tiberium universe with the fourth entry. Cancelled the Generals sequel outright. And Red Alert 3, while perfectly fine, is pretty much just so ridiculous that you can't take any of it seriously. Granted Red Alert 2 already made that half of the universe less serious to begin with, the Soviet campaign had you turn the Eiffel Tower into a Tesla coil. But there was still a semblance of taking the material seriously beneath the B-Movie charm.

I still have a love for the various entries though. Red Alert 2, Generals, Renegade, (Who would've thought you could make an FPS out of an RTS?) each hold a place in my heart one way or another. I just wish I could try to experience the games again from the start. Don't get to though, no console release, not even for the remasters. I still have my box set for the original four games, the Renegade CD, Generals and its expansion (Although I'm not as fond of said expansion because its campaign's story is ridiculous... even if currently plausible thanks to certain recent events) and of course there's Yuri's Revenge, which really cranked up the silliness before Red Alert 3 came around. All the same, good series in its heyday. Wish EA hadn't basically destroyed it like it does most games and studios it touches. Let's keep hoping BioWare doesn't join Westwood in defunct studios owned by Electronic Arts. Mass Effect 4, you are our best hope now.

"Cause No One Lives Forevvvvveeeerrrr! But evil never diiiiieeeesssss!"

Cate Archer is not only one of the most awesome/hottest fictional spies out there, she is also one of the least well known. Its unfortunate that her series faded into the background, but I suppose that's the consequence of the shooter boom post Half-Life and Halo.

However, that doesn't diminish what this game accomplished, creating a wholly original spy thriller that somehow was able to keep the camp without sacrificing the seriousness of real-world espionage. Sure, Cate uses a robot poodle to blow enemies up, but she's also a consummate professional dealing with 1960s sexism in a field dominated by men. I'm sure today grifters would be complaining this thing was "Woke" or whatever. Or maybe they wouldn't care because Cate shows off her boobs while wearing a tight spandex spy suit. Who can say?

All I know is I had a blast whether sneaking or fighting in both entries. And I enjoyed how much it paid homage to the classic spy movies of the era without ever feeling crass or cynical about them. It played itself straight at all times, even when the dangerous menace that threatens is using a weaponized chemical agent that makes you burp a lot before you explode violently, killing yourself and everyone.

Yes, that is real. The sequel makes you fight mimes while escaping on a tiny bicycle. Also ninjas.

You laugh, sure, but it's still fucking cool. Don't expect a video game now, let alone a shooter, to ever be allowed to have some fun anymore. I'm more than positive someone out there would claim this type of silly pulpy humor would be cringe or whatever. Maybe Cate's eventual reboot will be some hyper-realistic spy simulator that takes itself extra seriously and removes anything funny from its story. All in favor of increasing the edge super high because its the only way you'll take Cate seriously. Women aren't allowed to be funny anymore, look what happened to She-Hulk. She cracks a few jokes and dances a little, suddenly everyone wants her head on a pike. They even predicted it would happen! How you think Cate Archer having a little fun with her killer robot poodle or weapons disguised as accessories is gonna be treated? Not well, I can tell you that!

Maybe I'm overexaggerating some. Point is, No One Lives Forever was a franchise gone too soon. I wish someone would try to bring it back in some form. Maybe Nightdive has it on its Radar. I suppose we'll have to wait and see. Until then, I won't be playing it. Just waiting for a chance to.

Time to get into a theme here, starting with this one. Company of Heroes was a top down RTS game that followed various branches of the US Military as it worked to retake France from Nazi Occupation. From D-Day to the Falaise Pocket, it recounts the struggles and triumphs of the first step to liberating Western Europe.

This holds a special place in my mind because... I never finished it. I got to the last level, the last mission... didn't finish. And because my computer crapped out, I probably will never get to finish.

Company of Heroes has had other entries, but this is the one that I care about the most, as over time I feel it has run into the trap so many of these RTS games do now. The sequel that took place on the Eastern front with the Russians drew criticism for seemingly demonizing the Russians you were playing as for their, historically accurate, brutality against their enemies. The third game decided it was going to frame its single player campaign on the German side of things... while trying to pay tribute to the indigenous population they committed war crimes against.

Ok... what? You want me to play as the guys who did war crimes? I already don't like playing as Germans in WW2, it always leaves a sour taste in my mouth. But... I gotta tell ya, RTS games let you play as Nazis a lot more often than should be normal. Disturbing, I was instantly turned off of the third game, needless to say. If the only real narrative campaign option I have is the fucking Germans, you've instantly lost me. You could've let us be the British, but nah, just play as the fucking War Criminals I guess. Sure there's another campaign where you play as the Allies taking Italy, but that's an entirely different sort of single player experience that is much more free flow. I'm talking about the narrative campaign that I usually pick these up for.

Company of Heroes, the first one at least, knew better than to try and make us play as the fucking Nazis. Its cover system for your squads was engaging, the units themselves diverse and interesting, and the tactics involved in how to use them effectively were fun to figure out. I did bust through the various levels after all, I had a ton of fun getting through the game. I just... never got the chance to finish it is all. Sucks, I know, and I just want the chance to properly finish something I started. I don't like leaving things unfinished.

Alright, we're down to the real good stuff now. The games that cemented my status as a gamer. Medal of Honor: Allied Assault was one of my first full-fledged shooter titles. Given its release timing, I likely played Halo on Xbox first, but that hardly changes things. All I know is that this game spoke to my history nerd so hard. I needed to experience it, I was not disappointed.

I think Allied Assault was special to me because it proved how cinematic games could be. Yes, the D-Day mission is straight out of Saving Private Ryan, but a lot of it was like that. The music, the action beats, the in-game animation, it all just expressed this incredible aura. Like I was starring in my own adventure. That I was a part of history.

That's what worked so well for me, that it completely pulled me into this period in time. Infiltrating submarine bases, moving up Omaha Beach, pushing my way through sniper alley, stealing that tank and using it against the Germans, all to an epic score I can still hear in my head.

The game of course had two expansions, extra missions covering other aspects of the war in Europe. Spearhead and Breakthrough were both excellent additions in their own right. The challenge was at times frustrating, but ultimately rewarding. And while Medal of Honor couldn't survive the transition to modern shooters like CoD did... I'm kinda happy it didn't. I don't think I would've liked Medal of Honor sacrificing its heroic optimistic outlook and production values to become what Call of Duty is now. A dreary, hyper monetized, cash cow that can feel exceedingly soulless in the face of how many studios are slaved to making its multiplayer maps. We can only hope Raven will one day be free of those mines.

I suppose there is merit in better showcasing the horrors of war, but CoD has just completely slipped in to a very right-leaning outlook on a lot of things, torture especially, although that is by no means unique to it alone. Medal of Honor always felt like it was more balanced. That war is hell, but there is still inherent true heroism to be found within the horror. Perhaps it hasn't all aged perfectly, and its own brand of patriotism can be tiring, even misguided. But I appreciate the series for shedding a light on the sacrifices made to defeat the greatest evil this world has ever known. I wish more people today were as willing to take a stand against similar ideologies, especially since similar ones to the Axis powers have become so prevalent today.

I just miss when games like Medal of Honor tried to share history with you, as much as anything else. And help place back in another time, to help us understand what it was like. And I really wanna hear that music again, okay? That shit was fucking kickass!

Call of Duty wasn't always the shooter juggernaut. It wasn't always the biggest franchise in existence, released annually like Madden to keep the multiplayer shooter scene satiated. It wasn't always stale and desperate and edgy and bereft of anything original. I hear Raven actually managed to make the new Black Ops at least a little less formulaic at least, good for them, hope they can get to do their own damn games again soon.

Back when CoD was just starting out, it had one mission, to illuminate the lives of those who fought in WW2. Not just Americans, but British and Soviet soldiers too. Trying to show everyone that wars are not won by singular individuals, but by scores of people risking everything for the homelands and the people beside them.

And it worked. We got to experience being an Airborne Paratrooper, an SAS Operative and a Russian Conscript. Each of the fighting on their respective fronts to bring final victory in the most devastating war known to man. It was a fun and engaging game that never got stale because you were always shifting perspectives, you were never static or in one place. There was always something different waiting around the next corner. It felt like a breath of fresh air in a sea of steadily increasing WWII titles that even by then were getting a bit much.

As CoD went on, it adopted more and more of its less savory aspects. Focusing more on multiplayer, single player getting downplayed, formulas being overdone, things just not working out the way they were supposed to. CoD got further and further away from its origins, now it practically own the FPS scene to the point it has become stifiling.

I barely play CoD games anymore. The only time I purchase them is when they go back to WW2, hoping to capture the same magic again, never really managing. I can technically still play the first CoD. It's on my Xbox 360, released under the arcade titles. However, you can't get that anymore with the 360 store closed down, so the rest of you are out of luck on that front. But I can't play the expansion, United Offensive, which I guess is why it's still here. I'm locked out of the full experience for the first Call of Duty. And that's sad, it really is. Maybe one day, that won't be the case though, we can hope.

Of all the games I've talked about, this one, right here, is the most important in my mind. Return to Castle Wolfenstein is the single most important game in my life, alongside Halo and Medal of Honor, as I played each in very quick succession of each other. But RTCW has always held a huge place in my heart because it spoke to me on so many levels that have become synonymous with how I view gaming even now.

Sure, there are stealth sections that can be a pain. Sure some enemies can be cheap as hell. Sure the challenge can be overbearing to the point of madness. But I replayed this campaign from start to finish on my PC more times than I can count. That's how damn good it was.

From the second I woke up in the castle dungeon and knocked out that guard, I was hooked. I made it my mission to try and sneak around, not get caught for as long as possible. Generally so I could over hear the Nazis in the next room going on about stuff. When it was time to go Rambo, I did so. Kicking in doors, blasting off a stolen MP-40, raining lead down from on high before finding a plate of delicious food to eat to heal me up.

This was, in my mind, the pinnacle of gaming. It was like Indiana Jones meets Captain America, it was everything I ever wanted. The supernatural elements, the crazy mad science, the kick ass weapons, that scene at the rocket plane airbase, when the elite Nazi paratroopers drop in, that was fucking cool from start to finish. Everything about this game made me smile, I loved it that much.

I was a fan of the Wolfenstein franchise from then on... until Bethesda and Machine Games broke my heart with that insult of a reboot. The New Order, in short order, killed the series for me. It's alt-history storyline was a complete clusterfuck, it's characters pissed me, its weapons weren't all that fun to use, and they literally stuck a middle finger up at the previous games in the series. First by dismissing any supernatural elements from the story outright, then by releasing that godawful Old Blood stand alone that was nothing more than them redoing RTCW's story, but worse.

I hate what they did to the series. I hated what it did to me more. I became so bitter and angry. By this time, my desktop computer had already given up the ghost, so I couldn't go back and play it again to wash the stink out. I had to get the game's original Xbox release just to be able to play it again! I needed to play it again just to remind me what had been lost.

So yeah, this is the one game on this list I really can still play in full, but I miss playing it still. As much as I love that the Xbox version is there and even has some improvements on the PC version, it's still not the same, it doesn't feel the same. And that's why it's just a substitute. Yeah, I can play it, and enjoy it on console. But I do still feel I'm missing some only the PC version had, sadly.

Well there it is, a small stroll down memory lane. Hopefully this brought some memories back for yourselves as well. I know this probably isn't my most insightful post. But maybe it gave you all a better idea about me.

We'll see what the future brings. Maybe I'll get a computer that can run these games again. We can only hope. Until then, I'll keep waiting to return to my old stomping grounds.

[bewitchingbooktours]

Immortal Wounds by Angie Barton - Haunted Halloween Spooktacular

On This Night

On this night of blood and bats

Of howling wolves and pointed black hats

Of dreadful tales shared ‘round a fire’s glow

Of cackling witches and their familiar crows

Suppressed within tall grass, it is hard to see

But a haunted cemetery it is said to be

A chill and an eeriness hangs within its gate

As sinister whispers promise ill fate

Their words come straight from hell

Yet mesmerized you fall under their spell

For on this night of sinful play

The buried you disturbed now hunt you like prey

Immortal Wounds

Immortal Wounds Series

Book One

Angie Barton

Genre: Fantasy/Historical Fiction/Magical Realism

Publisher: Angie Barton 

Date of Publication: April 22, 2022

ISBN: 979-8990647206

ASIN: BOD9XTF25K

Number of pages: 392

Word Count: 93,000

Cover Artist: Donnell McKenzie

Tagline: Did Isobel make an error in landing in the wrong time, or was it part of her destiny?

Book Description: 

After witnessing the brutal deaths of her mother and husband, Isobel overhears a confession from one of the murderers, a ruthless vampire who claims to be her father. For fear that she and her unborn daughter’s death could come next, Isobel uses the only magic she possesses and summons a portal to take her two hundred years in the past to revisit an ancestor in Scotland who she believes may know the truth of her parentage. However, in her haste, Isobel lands in the wrong century. Before she realizes her mistake, she stumbles upon a family: a ferocious Highland warrior and his two sisters.

Isobel could not have prepared herself for what she discovers during her stay: the vampire who claimed to be her father, alive three hundred years in the past! With the help of Meg, the youngest sister, and Mariam, both women’s ancestor, Isobel finds herself belonging in a world she never dreamed of—one entangled with vampires and webbed with revenge, curses, and a prophecy that has dictated all of their lives for the last four hundred years. 

Did Isobel make an error landing in the wrong time, or was it part of her destiny?

Amazon

About the Author: 

Award winning author, Angie Barton, published her first novel, Immortal Wounds, in 2022. Angie’s love for writing centers around the fantasy genre, but she also enjoys writing thriller and romance. Her passion for reading, which led to her love of writing, began in elementary school with the Scholastic Book program. Her parents, who are life-long avid readers, have been a huge influence on her reading. Therefore anything and everything Angie could get her hands on she read.

Angie has been an early childhood educator since 1986 and hold a B.S. in Child Development. Her love for literacy has continued throughout her career, not only for herself, but also with the children she has cared for and taught. What Angie is most passionate about is helping others discover the excitement that reading brings. Her greatest desire in writing is to create and bring joy and entertainment to everyone she touches.

Currently, if Angie isn't reading at least three books at a time or working on a rough draft for her next book, she can be found outdoors gardening, woodworking, or relaxing by her pond. She shares that she's a Capricorn, tried and true, drinks way too much tea, and that her "to be read" pile of books can spike at any time.

www.authorangiebarton.com

https://www.facebook.com/author.AngieBarton

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/angie-barton

https://www.instagram.com/immortal_wounds/

https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomangie_barton

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[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[jupitermelichios]

I hope you don't mind me adding to this very good post, but in general i think the financial supremecy of movies and (more recently) tv has lead a lot of people to assume that the best stories can be interchanged between mediums. That every book can be adapted into a movie, every light novel into an anime, every movie into a video game etc etc

and that's the same attitude that underlies all the 'the goal of fanfic is to file of the serial numbers and publish it' or 'fanfic isn't real writing because real writing is novels and fanfic is usually structurally so different from a novel' type of takes come from.

this assumption that the medium is largely coincidental to the story being told

when that's just not true.

the very best adaptations always change things, because mediums are not interchangeable, and they fundamentally shape the stories told in them.

there are things you can do in fanfic that are simply not possible in a traditional novel, because you're starting from that possition of love and knowledge, and because you aren't bound by the need to be canon compliant, so you can ask questions like 'if these characters met in other lives, under different circumstances, what would they be like? how different would they be? how much of what makes them them is tied to the circumstances they found themselves in?' or 'what was it like to not be the heroes, to not be actively involved in the cool exciting bits? what was it like to be a minor character, left behind to deal with the consequences' because your audience is already invested, they'll show up for questions like that in a way a movie or novel or tv audience wouldn't.

there are things you can do in a podcast or radio play that are not possible in visual mediums like film or tv, because you're relying on the audiences imagination. there's a reason the best radio comedy tends to be surreal, and the best podcasts tend to be horror, those are both genres that thrive when the audience's imagination is allowed to fill in blanks.

there are things you can do on TV that are not possible in a novel or a movie. the way WandaVision completely changed its visual style with each episode is something that would not work in any other genre, but it's essential to the story. TV usually exists in very defined seasons, but cannot traditionally be consumed all in one go, which is not true of almost any other medium, and that dictates a specific type of pacing. combine that with the fact that it's a visual medium, and you get something like the overarching stories of the 9th Doctor's season of Doctor Who. No other medium could have delivered the resolution to that storyline as effectively.

Video games can force the audience to consider their own part in events. No movie could do what Spec Ops did, when it gives you a button prompt to commit a war crime, and then turns around and asks you why? why did you do that? was it too easy? do you think it felt like this when the US government committed the exact same war crime within living memory? Was it easy then too? A novel or a movie could show you walker doing this terrible thing, but it could never convey the point with the same effective simplicity, and it could never make you the audience feel culpable. only the author is responsible for the actions of the characters in a novel, but in a game, it's the audience who bears that responsibility, and that allows for moral questions other mediums struggle to effectively convey.

Comics can tell stories that take three decades and ten different writers to tell. Movies can use silence more effectively than any other medium because cinemas give you a captive audience and close-ups means you can reliably assume they can see everything that's happening (unlike theatre, which can use silence, but can't assume everyone has a good view). Theatre provides real time audience interactivity and a very special and unique kind of suspension of disbelief. Professional wrestling can tell ongoing stories in real time over years or decades, and walk the line between fiction and reality. Novels can immerse you more fully in one person's view of the world than any other medium (which also allows for information to be hidden from the reader without it feeling cheap the way it can when a movie does the same thing). Live oral storytelling allows the story to be adapted on the fly to fit audience reactions, allows for infinite variations of the same story, because no two tellings will ever be identical.

Fanfic isn't a genre, not really. Fanfic has genres, but it isn't a genre in and of itself. Fanfic is a medium, and like all mediums, it offers storytelling tools that are unique to it, that it does better than any other medium. and as OP pointed out, one of the big ones is that it can assume both familiarity and love from the audience to the characters depicted. We can stray far further afield from where we started in fanfic than the original creator ever could, because our anchors are not the narrative, but the characters.

I think one of the big strengths of fanfiction as a medium is that it can, on average, assume the reader has a way higher degree of familiarity with canon than like…canon can. If you’re in the Star Wars AO3 tag you probably like Star Wars enough to remember more things about it than the average Star Wars-enjoying-ten-year-old. Which makes it way easier for fanwriter a to get to the juicy stuff and really engage with the worldbuilding or minor characters without having to spell out like. Who Wedge Antilles is for everyone who forgot or never noticed him in the first place. You could write a book about Wedge in the old EU because EU readers could also be assumed to be serious fans, but you can’t make a new canon Disney+ show about him. Those cost money to make and are intended for a broader audience.

And all this means that like. A good fic writer can and often will surpass canon when it comes to like. Thematic resonance and stuff, because they can really dig into something. Star Trek 2009 gave Kirk a new, more generic tragic backstory because it couldn’t expect the average moviegoer to be familiar with Kirk’s old, way more interesting tragic backstory. (Frankly, I’m not sure jj abrams knew about TOS Kirk’s backstory) whereas I have read a LOT of well-written, interesting, deeply resonant fanfic examinations of Tarsus IV, and what it means for Kirk’s character that he’s a genocide survivor. Star Trek 2009 answers the question “why did Kirk cheat on the kobayashi maru?” With “‘cause his dad crashed a spaceship when he was a baby.” A close examination of TOS canon implies the answer is “because he lived through a real-life Kobayashi that did have a win option, but which wasn’t taken.” BUT—and this is significant—even the TOS canon movies can’t really assume knowledge of the full TOS tv show, so that implication is never examined or made explicit. Instead it’s fanfic (and maybe spin off novels? Idk I’ve only read 2 trek books, if there’s one out there that covers this that would be really cool) where we get dives into that thread, where Kirk gets a commendation for original thinking because he can look a testing board in the eye and say “I’ve seen what happens when someone is entrenched in this kind of thinking, and I cannot let it happen to me. I understand the lesson, but it’s not hypothetical anymore and it never will be. I did what I had to do.” And that’s interesting! That’s meaningful! That can’t happen in a summer blockbuster. But it can happen in fic, easily, and that’s a strength of fic, I think.