#i might ... have gotten some of my art spark back .... i think

[ganondoodle]

everyones more than welcome to send me asks about stuff* btw, i know i havent been that good in answering, but i think thats largely bc i always want to do too much, like .. drawing entire character design sheets and everything and then never having the energy or motivation for it so it sits around like all of my hundreds of wips i never finished bc i lost energy/motivation, waiting for it to come back .. which might never happen (and i still dont know how to handle compliments ,, i might never will tbh- if i havent answered a compliment its very very likely i dont know how to properly convey my gratitude- feeling like theres no amount of things i can do or say to 'pay back'? ... kinda weird if you think about it .. but i am weird so what do i know jsklfnhsdk, i promise you i treasure it)

im pretty sure not everyone that sends an ask expects a drawing or multiple and pages long text right? thats my skewed perspective isnt it?

*stuff being like .. about my ocs, about my zelda comic, about the totk rewrite project, suggestions, ideas, rants too, kind of anything though im less likely to respond to personal things (and in case theres anyone newer to tumblr, asks dont have to be literal questions, you can write in those what you want, i like them alot bc its a lil message without the chat type of commitment to it ... im even worse at keeping up responding in chats (not intentionally .. my short term memory sucks) o3o)

[swordsandholly]

Should I start working on this College AU rugby player Soap x art history major (sort of low self-esteem) reader again?

I’ve been thinkin’ about it. Their story haunts me. Anyway here’s a snippet for you to judge:

You sit in the common grounds on an old, tattered quilt under one of the oaks. You managed to score a good spot today, just enough sun to be warm but not enough to force you to squint. The tree curves in that perfect shape for you to lean back against it. You’ve settled into your millionth re-read of Howl’s Moving Castle. A go to when college gets too hard for your brain and you need something easy to digest. Like saltines on a sick stomach.

A faint call of, “Bonnie!” jerks you from the quiet of your moment. Oh, God. Johnny comes jogging up from a group of his fellow rugby players. If only the way he smiles at you didn’t direct all of your attention onto him, maybe you could have gotten away with pretending not to see or hear him.

As it is, you totally can. You push your sunglasses up onto the top of your head and pluck out an earphone just to sit up on your elbows. “Johnny.”

All six foot of the man comes plunking down onto the grass beside you. “I don’ get tae see ye around campus often. Feels like I havennae seen ye in forever.”

“I work a lot.” You repeat. Why couldn’t the gods gift you with at least moderate conversational skills? “It’s only been, like, four days. You weren’t in class yesterday.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Aye… Might have, eh, partaken a bit too much…”

You snort. “As long as you weren’t drinking and driving.”

“I would never.” The response is immediate, his tone unrecognizably dark. A sore spot.

“I’ll give you the notes.” You tilt your head back, changing the subject quickly. The shadows move and the sun begins to encroach upon your spot. It’s nice, actually.

“Ye donnae have tae-”

“I don’t mind.” You wave him off. “We can go over them on study night.”

A loud whistle and a holler echo from the other side of the lawn. Johnny’s buddies are all grouped up, staring. Well, the ones that aren’t actively being distracted by pretty girls are. Your eye meets with the man in the mask, staring each other down for a very brief moment. A shiver runs down your spine as he turns away. Two of the others lean in, snickering while they watch the two of you. It makes your chest hurt in a far too familiar way.

“I think your boys are calling.” You turn back to look at Johnny.

“Och, they can wait.” He shrugs those wide shoulders. Has he gotten bigger recently? “Whit are ye readin’?”

“Oh, nothing, just some kids book…” Before you can tuck it away he snatches it up, flipping it over to the back.

“My sisters read this! They watched the movie a lot. S’about tha’ girl who gets swept off her feet by a dashing wizard, eh?” He grins and leans in. “Remind ye of anybody, bonnie?”

You sit up and scoff, snatching the book back. “Fancy yourself dashing, MacTavish?”

“On occasion.” He winks.

You roll your eyes and mock gag. The man sure lays it on thick. “Well if you read the book you’d know he’s a whiny little brat, so, frankly, yes, it does remind me of a certain somebody.”

Johnny pouts dramatically, only further proving your point. “Got a sharp tongue on ye, hen.”

“It comes in handy.” You chuckle.

“God, I’d be so good to ye.” He says so fast you almost miss it as he grins wide.

You splutter out an awkward laugh, caught entirely off guard. The words sting a bit. He’s joking, obviously. It’s a little cruel. Uncharacteristically so.

Another shout has Johnny rolling his eyes and standing up. “I’ll see ye Thursday?”

“Thursday…” You nod, eyes still wide. You���re sure you look ridiculous.

Mr. Johnny-Sees-All grins back at you with a knowing spark in his eye. “Later, hen!”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

How about Kieran practicing asking out his crush in front of some Pokémon in the terrarium? Oh and said crush is currently using the synchro machine with a Pokémon who can easily blend in with the ones found in the terrarium and is among the group watching / listening to him. Thankfully his crush likes him back.

Here's some cuteness for Pokemon Day! ❤

..........

'Man, this synchro machine is fun.'

It was just another warm and sunny day in the Terarium, with you running around as a Smeargle and painting on rocks to your heart's content. A few others were doing the exact same thing, not knowing that you were actually a human trainer in disguise.

It was nice becoming a Pokemon for a little while. You didn't have any immediate responsibilities nor would you attract unwanted attention from others.

People kept coming up to you asking for battles, especially after you became the new BB League Champion. Even now you didn't think it was that big of a deal...

Besides, you still felt bad about ripping the title from Kieran.

You knew that he needed to be humbled and beaten in battle, although the guilt lingered as you recalled how devastated he was that he lost to you again.

Fortunately, things have gotten a lot better for him, as he learned to enjoy Pokémon battles again and realize it's just a silly title at the end of the day.

It's not something he needed to have in order to be worthy of love and respect.

All in all, your friendship has grown stronger than ever. To the point where the casual battle you both had didn't stress him out. He enjoyed it despite its outcome.

But today you haven't seen him anywhere in the academy, although Drayton pointed out that he ventured into the Terarium...and said nothing more than that.

You figured he just needed time to ease back into everything after a much-needed break in Kitakami.

Of course you two recently saved the whole land from Pecharunt's possession-spree. So you'd give him time to ease back into things.

So while he was doing whatever in the Terarium, you were just living the life of a Smeargle, painting a pokeball on the face of a boulder. One or two others have joined you, inspired by your art, and a few stray Deerlings and other Pokémon stopped by to observe.

Then suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

"Th-This is kinda awkward, but...you think you and your friends could help me out?"

"Smear??" Spinning around, you completely forgot you were a Smeargle for a second, eyes wide to see Kieran there, and he was holding...a paper?

'Oh right..I'm a Pokémon, he can't tell..' You realize and internally sigh with relief, curious as to what he wrote.

"I'm just..t-trying to ask out this person I really like, but..I'm too embarrassed to do it in front of people. So...Pokémon might be better? I dunno.." He grumbled to himself, shaking his head. "Just let me know if this is good or not."

You looked to the other Pokemon, who seemed to understand him with a collection of nods, chirps, and growls. You gave your approval with a thumbs-up.

The way Kieran smiled at you made your heart skip a beat.

"Okay, th-thanks...ahem.." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the paper, before pocketing it and looking directly at you. "So..[y/n]..."

'It's...me? Oh my arceus..' You held onto your tail brush, trying not to give yourself away but at the same time feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 'Be cool, be cool, be cool-'

"I know I..wasn't a great friend back then, but I'm glad we were able to move past all of that stuff. You've made me happy in ways I could never imagine. I lost my spark..and you were the one to put it back into me, and I'm forever grateful. That being said..I-I...um...I'm ready to be more than just friends....so....I.....w-wowzers..this is tough..I dunno if I can do this." His posture became slumped, and you frowned a little.

"Smear, smearg!"

'Kieran, c'mon..don't give up.' You silently encouraged.

He perked up at your cry and saw the other Pokémon cheering him on, and he shyly smiled. "Thanks guys, so..would you...um..like to go out with me, [y/n]? Or wait, that might be comin' off too strong..uh...wanna grab somethin' at the cafeteria later---no, no..that sounds too much like Drayton...ugh....I'll be fine."

Rubbing his hands over his face, he calmed himself down and looked at the group, sheepish. "Worst they can say is no, right? But...I-I hope they don't. They mean a lot to me..although if they wanna stay friends, I don't mind that too.." He mumbled.

You felt a strong tug on your heartstrings upon seeing the despondent look on his face. Like he was expecting you to reject him right away.

It made you wanna desynchronize right now and reassure him you accept his confession, but you didn't wanna scare him with the fact you were listening this whole time.

Maybe you could drop subtle hints.

You wanted to express your feelings for him, too, in your own way.

So after the Pokémon dispersed, and Kieran stood there pondering over what to do next, he noticed you walking up to him, handing him a rock.

"What's this..?"

After close examination, he realized there was a heart painted on it.

"You think [y/n] would like this?" He blinked, before smiling and kneeling down, patting you on the head. "Thanks, Smeargle...y'know your tail color is also their favorite color. Funny coincidence, right?"

"Smear.." You pointed to yourself, tilting your head.

"Yes. You." He laughed a little. "You don't happen to belong to them, do ya?"

"Smear..smear!" You nod.

"Oh? Where's your trainer?"

"..........."

A look of realization crosses his face. "Hold on-"

Suddenly, you switched off the synchro machine, causing your Smeargle to vanish and him to freeze, now understanding what was going on.

It was you.

This whole time you were synched to it, listening to his confession and watching him fumble over his words like an idiot.

After you emerged from your hiding place, back in your actual body and Smeargle at your side, you searched around for Kieran--only to find him sitting by a small pond, his back to you.

"Ki?"

His shoulders were tense, although he didn't dare look at you. Instead his face was buried into his hands, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, if he sat very very still....you wouldn't see him.

But unfortunately luck didn't shine on him this time, as you just calmly sat beside him, chuckling. "C'mon, that was actually really sweet. Practicing in front of Pokémon. They don't judge."

"...I-I didn't know you were there.." He spoke, voice slightly muffled. "I'm so embarrassed...this isn't how it was s'pposed to go-"

"Well, if you want my answer..it's yes."

"......huh?" Peeking through his fingers, he gazed at you for a long while, wondering if you were joking or not. But the look in your eyes was warm, and your smile genuine.

"I was trying to use Smeargle to express my own feelings, but just so there's no confusion...I'll go out with you, Kieran." You told him, feeling your heart beating fast again. "You make me happy and..I wanna keep being there for you. Through the good and the bad. So...I'm ready to be more than friends, too."

He was stunned. "Really..?"

"Yes." You opened your arms up to him, and a few moments later he uncovered his face to hug you tightly. It lasted for several seconds, before you pulled away to kiss his cheek.

Immediately, he began burning red. "W-Wowzers...so..we're official, huh? Just like that?"

"Yep." You chuckled at his flusteredness, intertwining your fingers with his own. "And if you wanna go on a little cafeteria date, I don't mind."

All Kieran could do was nod and smile, his gaze going to your Smeargle who was painting absentmindedly on a different rock. And when it was done, it presented you two with a simple drawing of you holding hands with him.

They were stick figures, but it was still a masterpiece.

You got yourselves a little wingman in the form of a Painter Pokémon.

[magua-vida]

[Death's Mercy excerpts] A Death Jester Spares A Guardswoman + Outcome

(art is probably by AKIMBLYA just like the art for A Deadly Wit, but I couldn't see in the gallery)

Context: Harlequins encounter an unarmed injured guardswoman while on the hunt for humans invading Nequofendi, the main characters being: a grounded but sadistic Death Jester named Adroniel, a forgetful but bold Troupe Master whose name is Duruthiel, and a cryptic Shadowseer called Echo who's often high. They banter about many things in the story, but one of the arguments that stood out to me is whether a "mon'keigh" is worth sparing.

[...] Duruthiel: ‘There’s scarce a patch of unsullied floor to place my feet. Bodies everywhere.’ Adroniel: ‘If you’d been precise, you are stepping on parts of bodies, not whole corpses.’ Echo: ‘And yet in the carnage stirs a soul.’ Duruthiel: ‘What do you mean?’ Echo: ‘In the search of fear a spark of hate…’ Adroniel (enthusiastically): ‘Look! Oh! Oh! This one! I can see it is still breathing, ahahah! (grimly) But not for long.’ (FX - ECHO PREVENTS ADRONIEL FROM SHOOTING) Adroniel (angrily): ‘Ah, what is this, Shadowseer?! Do not interrupt me at the moment of releasing death’s mercy.’ Echo: ‘By your own admission it is spite that moves you.’ Duruthiel: ‘This conversation bored me the first time. I will have no further part of it again.’ (FX - WOUNDED GUARDSWOMAN MOANING FROM PAIN ON THE FLOOR) Echo: ‘Did you see? The eyes desire life and so by your argument it would be spite to end it.’ Adroniel: ‘Did I ever assert that I was above spite?’ Echo: ‘The splinter of your past life can never be fully drawn while you harbor this mood.’

Echo and Adroniel continue to disagree with one another. The guardswoman vocalizes pain. The Shadowseer asks the Death Jester if she's afraid that the human's words would spark her conscience. Adroniel denies, aiming her weapon at her. The wounded person begs to be spared as she is without a weapon, but the Death Jester calls her an animal. She and Adroniel have a brief sass exchange with the former angrily asking the latter to just kill her already. Adroniel is amused by the feisty sass. Echo chimes in that the "blade that hangs is worse than the one that drops swiftly".

A distant explosion sounds off in the distance, signalling that the fight is still going on.

Adroniel: ‘Events are moving on without us. It is time to rejoin the company so I must end its miserable life.’ Echo: ‘Or… spare it?’ Adroniel: ‘Why?’ Echo: ‘Must there be a reason? Think of possibilities, of endless fates yet unplayed. A simple act, the execution of which costs you nothing, might one day bring great harm to She-Who-Thirsts. It is in your gift to deliver a deadly fate, but equally to grant extended life. Is that not powerful to you?’ (FX - WOUNDED GUARDSWOMAN SOBS ON THE FLOOR) Echo: ‘Act without reason for we are the Harlequins of the Laughing God. As a spirit is snatched at whim from damnation, why not spare this life?’ Adroniel (thinking that over and finally taking the gun away): ‘Hm, you may go back to your companions. If our paths cross again, you will die.’

The guardswoman stands and runs away. After just having taken out a Titan from the inside and having gotten out of it, the trio receives a battle report from the Autarch of Yme-Loc and spy the same human they spared returning to her fellow people.

[...] Adroniel: ‘And see there, scrambling through the mud? A lone trooper of the foe, the one I spared?’ Echo: ‘A ripple on the skein set free to the embrace of Morai-Heg once more.’ (FX - IMPERIAL GUARDSMEN REJOICE AT THE ARRIVAL OF THE SPARED GUARDSWOMAN) Duruthiel: ‘They are pleased for your gift, Adroniel.’ Adroniel: ‘Indeed, I… Wait, I spy one among them… garbed differently. See the black coat and gold decoration?’ Duruthiel: ‘A leader of some kind?’ Echo: ‘The others draw back. I smell fear more than duty.’ Adroniel: ‘Why does it raise its weapon towards its own? Ahahahah, do they think it cowardly perhaps?’ Duruthiel: ‘Or tainted by your mercy.’ (FX - DISTANT GUNSHOT) Duruthiel (angrily): ‘Kin slayer!’ Echo: ‘Truly the ways of the mon-keigh are barbaric. What of you, Adroniel? To see your choice made mockery?’ Adroniel: ‘Ahahah, I hope you see the truth now. I am the Death Jester. There is nothing of me that is turned to life, only its ending. My work shall never cease until I claim myself and another steps up to the role.’ Duruthiel: ‘You are not saddened?’ Adroniel: ‘Why should I be sad knowing myself, Duruthiel? Does the rampant ego of the Red Swan depress you? And I am glad for fate has guided me to my next target.’ Echo: ‘To avenge the slaying of the one you spared?’ Adroniel: ‘Do not be so sentimental, Shadowseer. It is merely a glimmer from the skein that has caught my eye. Perhaps, it is a sign, the will of the Laughing God... but, probably not! Ahahahaha!’

The Death Jester readies her cannon.

___________________________________________________________

This is one of those times where we get to see Aeldari-Human interactions that aren't totally negative (roughly), but I do like how much nuance they're given in certain stories like this one. Compared to A Deadly Wit (and likely also because the Death Jester is the main character this time), Adroniel has shown special sadistic spite towards humans that seem to stem from her past compared to when she was slaughtering Orks.

Not art this time, but I just want to share some Harlequin lore that isn't brought up much.

[valscigarette]

Mine (Ones I Used to Know)

Summary: Vox reminds Val who he belongs to. For Day Twelve of the December Challenge.

Tags: Smut, Bondage, Overstimulation, Degradation, Top!Vox

WC: 1.5k | AO3 | Art by @aflatfacedprick

-

  Restraining a demon with as many limbs as Valentino is a feat, but after decades together, Vox has it down to science. Each of Val’s wrists is completely immobilized by coils of Vox’s cables, his thighs are pinned under Vox’s knees, and his face is mashed into the pillow from Vox’s grip on the back of his neck. He can struggle all he likes; he’s not getting free, and his desperate attempts to escape only provide more friction against Vox’s clothed dick.

“Fucking asshole,” Val complains into the bedding as he makes another attempt to pull his arms free. “You haven’t put out in weeks, and now-”

Vox shuts him up with a smack to the ass that makes his own hand sting. He sneers, “That’s rich coming from you.”

   How dare he complain as if he hasn’t spent days so far up Angel Dust’s ass that Vox considered building a probe to find out if he stores coke in there or something. It’s not fair. He gives Valentino everything. Fucking everything! Vox has wracked his brain trying to determine what that gangly slut has that he doesn’t, but has yet to come up with a single satisfactory answer for why Val keeps dragging a junkie into a dressing room bed instead of returning to theirs.

“With how busy you’ve been, I almost forgot you were married to me, not your cotton-candy whore.”

Val laughs until Vox digs his claws into the sides of his throat and taints the air with the copper tang of his blood. Vox’s filters are fine-tuned to protect him from noxious fumes like pollution or Val’s toxins, but no amount of programming overrides the thrill of smelling freshly spilled blood. As much as he wants to taste it, he needs to make this last. 

“Jealous?” Val pants. 

“Sick of your shit,” Vox corrects. “You promised, you said no more public performances, no more fucking around, I-” He reins himself in. The more upset, the more vulnerable he sounds, the less likely he is to get Val back under control. “I just think you've gotten confused, is all.”

Under him, Val bucks his hips, trying to throw Vox off with the might of a scruffed kitten. “Confused? You’re fucking confused.” His struggles only chafe the tight binding of Vox’s cables. “I told you that I wouldn’t star in any more films-” his long tongue lolls out of his mouth as he inhales like it’s the last breath he’ll ever take, “-which I haven’t. And you should be grateful, Voxxy.”

“Should I?” Vox bites. 

He grabs the central cord down Val’s back and yanks him upright, his torso forced into such a tight arch by the bondage that he trembles to hold the position even with Vox’s support. The funny thing is that Vox has seen this porn: Val trussed up, writhing and helpless, to receive his punishment from an overlord whose face never came on screen. It’s a classic vintage Valentino, and one of Vox’s personal favorites. 

When he reaches around Val’s waist, Vox doesn’t have to grope around for his cock. The excitable appendage seeks him out first and winds itself between his fingers, already sticky with precum like Vox knew it would be. Nothing gets Val going like a fight. And, despite his many irritating protests, he always has the most spectacular orgasms when he loses.

“This,” Vox growls, tightening his hand around Val’s dick, “belongs to me. Not the cameras, not your sluts, not you. Me.”

Val chuckles even as he blurts precum over Vox’s fingers from the possessive spiel. “Very funny, baby. But this cock is under contract; half my bitches signed their souls over for a standing appointment.”

On some level Vox knows that–he’s read all of Val’s contracts–but the reminder glitches his systems badly enough for his screen to blank as electricity sparks from his claws, drawing another glob of fluid from Val. It really is no wonder he wound up doing porn with his afterlife. He’s made for it. 

“Good for them,” Vox sneers, a cheering sound effect bolstering his words, “but you’re mine.”

Another condescending laugh bubbles from Val’s throat until Vox shoves him back down in the blankets and kicks his legs apart once more. While Val will fuck anything that moves, he’s tetchier about who gets to rail him. He’ll swear up and down that it’s because no one compares to the skill of his own prehensile genitalia’s reach, but Vox knows the truth has more to do with how sensitive the pink pussy tucked between Val’s balls and asshole is. Since becoming an overlord, there’s no one he trusts to destroy him like that. Even Vox typically gets relegated to the backdoor.

“Or did you forget?”

“Fuck off.”

Val continues struggling as Vox trails his hand down to press against his dripping pussy. The first press of his thumb into the slit spills slick down to Vox’s wrist and makes Val shudder, his arms flexing against the cables restraining him as if he’ll suddenly be able to break free now, when every attempt so far has been endearing at best. 

“This is mine too,” Vox carries on conversationally. He doesn’t have the caps that would protect Val’s delicate insides from his claws, but he doubts Val is going to complain, especially when Vox doesn’t plan on much prep. He simply pets Val’s pussy, smearing his juices from his hole to the base of his cock and back again. “No one else’s. Right, Val?”

“I’ll kill you,” Val sing-songs.

But his voice wavers, shivering worse than he’ll be after Vox fucks some sense back into him, and the threat dies in the air between them. If Val was serious, he would’ve killed Vox the first time he tied Val down to prove a point. Or the fifth. 

“Good luck with that.”

Vox lets go of Val completely to pull his own dick out and stroke himself a couple of times to coat it with Val’s slick. The aphrodisiacs in it don’t affect his mechanical body like it would most sinners, but the warmth leftover from Val’s body is a potent enough drug to make up the difference when Vox shuffles forward to press the head of his cock against Val’s hole.

Val groans like the sound was forced out of him and shudders. It’s a pitiful showing for a demon that used to make his living off taking the biggest cocks in Hell, but then again, he doesn’t let anyone fuck him like this anymore. No one but Vox. 

“That’s more like it,” he purrs. He can’t move as fast as he’s used to, Val’s too tight around him, but that’s probably for the best. If Vox was able to fuck Val at the pace his instincts demand, then this would be over before the real fun starts. “Want to know how I can tell it’s mine?” 

Before Val can answer, Vox spanks him, which in turn has Val cursing into the pillows and dribbling more precum as he tightens around Vox’s dick. He thrusts the rest of the way in until his hips press into the backs of Val’s thighs. 

“Because I fit perfectly.”

“Has nothing to do with you,” Val whines. “It’s my fucking pussy, of course it’s perfect.”

It’s not that Val’s ass isn’t great, but it doesn’t mold around Vox like a sleeve designed to the contours of his body, and it’s never this wet no matter how much lube Vox uses. More importantly, it doesn’t make Val melt like this. He can play feisty all he wants, and it won’t change the puddle forming beneath him, or how easily Vox can feel Val clenching around him.

“Right.” Vox withdraws halfway just to bottom out again in a single rough thrust, punching a wet moan from Val in the process. “That’s why you save it for me, then?”

If Val planned on replying, his words disappear behind another moan when Vox takes hold of his bindings and uses them to pull Val back onto his cock. The cables help, but Val is too heavy to really use like a fleshlight when he’s gone dead-weight from being fucked in a way he so seldom indulges. 

“Don’t tell me you let Angel Dust fuck you like this.”

“Nnnn,” Val gurgles, probably meaning to say no but unable to manage it when Vox is fucking him with computed efficiency. 

A buzzer sound snarls through Vox’s speakers. “Not really an answer, but great effort!” He smacks Val’s ass again and adds, “Good thing I don’t keep you around for your brains.”

Val keens, seizing up around Vox like a vice as he comes, splattering the sheets with an obscene amount of jizz. He’s always a firehose but milking an orgasm out of him seems to make it worse, to the point that the bed becomes too slippery for Val to hold himself up on his knees and he collapses prone atop the mattress. Vox follows him without allowing a second’s reprieve.

“There you go,” he coos, worming a hand under Val to curl around his oversensitive cock. It spills another wave of cum despite Val’s sobbing. “See? Mine.”

And with Val’s nonexistent refractory period, Vox intends to prove this particular point as many times as it takes.

[pulpmusicalsfortnight2024]

Signing Off!

As I’m posting this, Pulp Musicals Fortnight 2024 has officially ended! And what an event! I will still be reblogging late submissions a week after, but it's done. It was my first time running something like this, and I had such a blast. So, fair warning, this might get sappy.

First, a huge thank you to everyone who participated in this event! It quite literally could not have existed without you, and all the effort you’ve put into it. I’ve seen some of you talking about your work for months, and it completely paid off. Your creativity astonishes me, and I am glad all of you are in the fandom! I’ve laughed, screamed in pain at some of the more angsty work, and just been in awe.

It’s amazing to me just how much I’ve seen this fandom grow over the past couple of months. When I got into Pulp, we had about 12 fics. Now we have over a hundred! Most of the art I saw back then was from @its-short-for-jackalope, and now I’ve seen tons of gorgeous pieces from all sorts of talented artists! I’ve seen more and more people sucked into these beautiful musicals, enraptured easily.

Thank you to everyone who makes Pulp what it is - the actors and Jackie (your art for the covers and the character portraits is really beautiful!) You’ve put so much time into these musicals, and it’s made a wonderful final product! Your skills make these musicals an utter treat to listen to.

And, finally, to Matt Dahan. I’ve loved your work for years, even before I got into Pulp Musicals. Starry kept me company through COVID, your work on Hatchetfield was part of what drew me into the fandom. Your musicals have gotten me through long work shifts. I’ve scream-sung along to them in the car, quietly sang along while I’ve done chores. I’ve had them on the brain whenever I have spare time (and even sometimes when I don’t, really.) The way you use leitmotifs has made me gasp in delighted shock multiple times, and I catch myself thinking about the arcs for the characters you write over and over. (My particular favourite is Samuel’s, but I believe they’re all done wonderfully.) Your musicals brought me closer to so many interesting, amazing people I might never have known otherwise. They’ve sparked my creativity to heights even I’m still astonished by. I’ve found myself smiling with glee at the themes of creativity having value, of life being more than just getting by day by day, of humanity being about creation - “feeling so small, yet never more part of it all”. It is quite possibly one of my favourite things of all time.

The world is a better place for what you have created. I believe that with all my heart. I hope if you see this event, it makes you even half as happy as Pulp has made me over these last couple of months.

So with that, this is Fortnight signing off! Hopefully I’ll see you all next year!

[daily-rayless]

25 Years of Rosa

I've been doing this character appreciation series for a while now, and it's about time we got to a very special character – the first character from the first JRPG I ever played that I first really fangirled over – the first character that was my Number One Favorite Video Game Character – Rosa Farrell from Final Fantasy 4.

June 1999

We are going so far back that I have no idea what my first Rosa fan art was. It's not this – but I wanted to highlight it because I was incredibly proud of myself. Rosa, all sad and anguished because she's missing Cecil.

But let's talk some about her, the good and the -- maybe? -- bad.

October 1999

I first played FF4 in May 1999, on a rickety and unreliable Super Nintendo. The cartridge was prone to failure and wiped out my first save once I'd gotten the team underground. But by then, I was invested, too invested to give up and play Chrono Trigger or something. I had to find out what happened to Cecil and Rosa and everyone, so I slammed that cartridge right back in and started up a new game. Fortunately, that one lasted all the way through.

January 2000

As I said, it was my first JRPG, and I adored the medium, especially the story. Along with having a rickety SNES, I also had a house with a not-great internet connection, and this was long before you could easily look up Let's Plays and videos of your favorite scenes. Convinced in my young mind that the game might never properly work for me again and would never, I don't know, be republished, I immediately sat down and wrote a detailed, dramatized summary of the whole thing just so I wouldn't forget it.

April 2000

And my favorite element of the story was Rosa, the healer, the archer, the female lead. Maybe it's just that FF4 was my first game, but I like to think there's a special spark to Rosa that makes her stand out.

June 2000

I was bubbling over with enthusiasm and, along with writing out a detailed summary, I subjected my patient and obliging mother to endless dissertations on the characters and story. I specifically remember talking to her about Rosa, and her commenting that Rosa was a traditionally “feminine” character, even “passive” – a healer, a love interest, needing to be rescued not once, but twice.

November 2000

And I think that's worth exploring – as neutrally as possible. On one hand, in fiction we do have a very long history of imperiled, secondary, predominantly supportive heroines, and the fact that so many had to be written that way reflects something bad in the real world. On the other hand, I really do believe that most tropes are just tropes, and even if they've been overused, often badly used, that doesn't mean they can't be used.

August 2001

In a lot of ways, Rosa is a very safe character. Though she's a studied mage and master archer, that's not why she's in the story. Her main involvement is as a love interest, both to the hero Cecil and his rival/best friend Kain.

November 2001

Rosa's reason for joining the adventure comes down to her love for Cecil. She isn't seeking her own quest. She never states a goal that isn't Cecil's. In fairness, the game is very stripped down, and none of the characters voice very complex motives. You could just as easily say Cecil is Cid's reason for joining the adventure.

November 2002

But Rosa's story beats all come down to Cecil and Kain. Surely, on such an adventure, Rosa would grow and discover things about herself, but you never hear about it. What you hear about is her worrying about Cecil, worrying about the fate of the world, taking care of others, and of course getting kidnapped. All very safe, non-disruptive things for a female character.

June 2004

There are even moments where the game leans into a slight but still apparent sexism. At the siege of Fabul, despite Rydia and Rosa being practiced fighters and valuable mages, they're sent to tend to the injured while the men go off to fight.

June 2005

This is echoed at the end of the game when Cecil himself, who knows full well how powerful Rosa and Rydia are, still forbids them to join him in the ending level. There's some brief resistance, but then the girls, in all apparent obedience, quietly leave while the men remain to save the world.

September 2005

Part of it may be that Rosa comes from a very early video game, but if we look at sci-fi/fantasy itself as a genre, we had more boundary-pushing heroines long before the early 1990s, at least in the West. By then, we already had Princess Leia, Red Sonja, Alanna the Lioness, and others.

April 2006

Rosa is brave, talented, and loyal, but is she ultimately a regressive character?

October 2007

I don't know if I have a perfect answer to that. What I do know is that one of the things I've always loved most about Rosa is that she knows her own mind. Yeah, she'll support you. Yeah, she'll cast Protect and Haste on you, and then she'll Cure you when Bahamut takes your HP down to 1. But she does not do it meekly.

2008

One of her first scenes is her comforting Cecil as he deals with his thorny ethical angst. But she quickly stops murmuring kindly to him and tells him he can't just mope and complain about things. He has to take a stand. He has to own his actions – change himself, one of the themes of the game. She sees it long before he does, and she isn't exactly tender as she tells him.

July 2009

She joins the adventure for Cecil, but she doesn't join with him. He leaves without her (she doesn't beg to come with him, she has things to do) and when he goes missing, she sets off on her own in search of him, going faster and getting farther than he did before desert sickness stops her cold.

March 2010

And at the end of the game when this selfsame Cecil, this guy who grew up with her and is in a relationship with her and knows her so well, tells her to go home and be safe while he and the guys save the world, she does meekly turn around and leave. But she doesn't go far. She and Rydia stow aboard his spaceship and travel with him and the men to the moon. Whereupon she tells Cecil, with no ambiguity, that he cannot keep her from coming.

October 2011

Which is a good thing, because I have beaten FF4 many times, and let me tell you, you are not surviving the ending boss without Rosa Curing you, Protecting you, and probably Lifing you more than once.

February 2013

So have I exonerated Rosa? I've shown how assertive she really is. Have I proved she's not regressive?

October (?) 2018

Honestly, I'm not a big fan of the assertive woman = automatically good female character theory. A woman can be physically weak, even psychologically timid, and still be an incredibly interesting, complex, and strong character. And another can be bold and brave and badass and still remain uninteresting and shallow.

2020

But I think I've shown that, whatever Rosa is, she's not passive.

August 2021

Being a back-row archer isn't a problem, being a healer isn't a problem, being conventionally feminine isn't a problem. Even, at the end of the day, being a “safe” character isn't actually a problem. It comes down to how well the character's written – and, even more subjectively, how they connect with the audience.

May 2024

Rosa connected powerfully with me. Since then, other characters have come and eclipsed her number one spot in my heart. But I still love her a lot, and I don't want to see her dismissed.

[just-a-carrot]

any advice to give for an aspiring beginner game dev who is unsure of where to really start on making a video game?

wuah that's very broad

what kind of video game? do you mean like a VN? or some other type of game? it's hard to say without knowing a bit more specifically about the type of games you'd want to make

to keep it more general then i would say:

don't overscope; especially if it's your first game, don't try to make some huge blockbuster, start small with an idea you feel passionate about; i realize this feels hypocritical of me to say given my first VN was OW BUT... i did end up breaking it up into many pieces, so in a way, it was like i split it into multiple smaller games in a way; if you do have a really large idea i would recommend doing something similar as it really helps compartmentalize things a lot; at the end of the day, no matter what, ensure the game is something you feel strongly enough about that you will feel motivated to keep working on it even on days where your motivation or energy levels are low

don't try to make everything perfect, otherwise you'll keep working on the same bits again and again and again and never get finished; you can always go back later and put more polish on stuff if you decide you don't like something (which is exactly what i'm doing LOL)

work on it in such a way that it lets you actively see the progress, which can help give you a lot of motivation; this was and is still a big thing for me i think -- in the beginning, i made a really prototype-esque version of the first half of arc 1 that just had text, music, sound effects, and some unfinished photo bgs, but being able to get it done quickly and actually see how it was looking even without art or anything fancy was super motivating and gave me a lot of spark to keep working on it, leading into then actually starting to work on art, etc.; even on later games i was the same way, like with OC i put together a prototype of the day-to-day mechanic to make sure it would work and started writing up funny text convos to try out in game before i started actively working on all the art and such to make the game feel more polished -- if i had started by just working on art without being able to put it in the game right away and see how it was looking, i might have gotten burnt out quickly; i generally work on art as i get to it, essentially writing and scripting the game chronologically and working on new sprites and CGs when i reach that point rather than work on all the sprites or all the art in the beginning, and that allows me to put all the art i do straight into the game and see how it looks, which really helps with satisfaction and motivation

that's just some general tips i have off the top of my head!!

[kaurwreck]

you remind me of a time i wish i could go back to; a time in which i would obsessively read and keep reading about anything that interested me slightly. i would stumble into entirely new ways of thinking with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop, and learn to engage with it on its own terms. the ability got lost somewhere in the haze that was school and uni and people and work and now i’ve… lost the ability to think on my own. it comes maybe twice a month, in random bursts, and i fucking hate that i don’t have access to it continuously anymore. i hate that now when i’m bored i can’t think up stories in my head and chew on ideas in my free time. i see you and i’m so happy and so envious; i wish for my thirst for life back. i’m so tired. i’m saying this to you because, of all people, might be able to see it clearly. i respect the fact that you managed to retain it to adulthood or beyond is so much. you don’t know how much that means to me, as a young adult.

If it helps, I don't read nearly as much as I did as a kiddo. Like, not even remotely close. Quite frankly, I've only recently gotten back into reading lit, after years of only reading comics and manga, and not nearly at the volume I did before.

But! There are all sorts of opportunities to engage with stories and ideas and reconnect the synapses that spit where they used to spark. Once, in the throes of a heavy and prolonged period of uncertainty, I was gripped by the color of spray paint on the sidewalk on the way to pick up an espresso while sleep deprived. I consciously chose to stop and appreciate it.

Which is to say, I also get exhausted and burnt out and go through periods where I wonder if I've lost some fundamental part of myself. But then I rest or I change my routine or I receive an affirmation I didn't realize I desperately needed, and my verve returns, as it does. I think having pediatric onset bipolar disorder has advantaged me in this regard because even when I feel like nothing, I know that the intensity will return, and that it will continue to ebb and flow like the tides. I used to dread the ebb, but the ebb has its own value, too; in the ebb is where I nurture roots.

But to my earlier point, there are lots of stories and ideas buried in all sorts of moments. We can imbue meaning in the things we do as an observed ritual until it becomes habit until it becomes sincere. And for the periods in which we can't, it's worth remembering that the winter solstice is the longest evening of the year, but the sun will come back because it always has. In the meantime, you can stoke a hearth and sip on coaxed together warmth while tucking into your memory this grief so that you will recognize what you've been missing when it returns, so that feeling excited is remarkable enough to cut the present ennui. In time, you'll start to feel substance in the contours of the grief, too, because to be exhausted and numb and tired means that you exist enough to be anything at all.

And, if you're too untethered from yourself for even that, find something mundane and look for a glimmer of anything worth observing. If you can't find anything, choose to give some facet of what you see meaning anyway.

(It's not that the sidewalk was purple. It's that I chose to see that it was that particular, beautiful shade of purple rather than remain adrift into my own ether and, in doing so, tethered my intangible enormity in something tangible enough for me to stoke while I weathered the season.)

If you practice enough, this becomes muscle memory. Same with thinking on your own. I don't think reading is ever enough on its own anyway; sometimes, we mirror ideas and mistake them for our own. Or we encounter ideas but don't allow ourselves to be changed by them.

It's why it's important to engage intentionally, and it doesn't have to be with text. It can be with movies, art, those around us, our environment, our own understanding of the world, the condensation on a window. Mindfulness helps, but so does adopting the mindset of a toddler and asking why? Constantly. Again, it may begin as a rote exercise, but the more you do it, the more it becomes muscle memory. If you think you know something, consciously stop and ask why? Where did you learn that? What assumptions does your conclusion rely on? Could there be another explanation? Pretend you're someone else for a moment, a favorite character or historical figure or loved one. What would they think given the same facts? Also important is saying, like a toddler, because I said so! as the only reason you need. Try things for the sake of having not tried them before. There's a reason why Lao Tzu advises being like a newborn baby, soft boned with a strong grip.

There's very little I do, read, watch, or consume that I don't think about applying elsewhere, too. This is sometimes exhausting. But it's also where I get my well of passion. Because there's always an opportunity for meaning, my life bursts with it.

This doesn't mean I don't still have rough weeks or months or years. I have bipolar, adhd, cptsd, and social phobia; I have frequent insomnia and sleep paralysis, etc. etc. But I look forward to what I might learn next, and there's purpose and intention to how I experience even my lows. The life I'm currently living is so unlike where I came from, in part because I decided I wanted meaning and purpose. Before I knew what that was supposed to look like, I picked a direction and strove for it, feeling out what I couldn't see. I still do, when necessary. It will always be necessary.

So, while I don't know if what works for me will work for you, I can promise that something will excite you again, eventually. Adulthood isn't a linear decline or a separation from yourself. It's variable and dynamic, and you have agency in what you do with that. There isn't any objective meaning or purpose to be assigned, so you get to choose it for yourself, and it can be as variable and dynamic as you need it to be. So, if you don't want to grow into someone who can't think on your own, you don't have to. If you don't like your current state of mind, you don't need to settle in it.

tl;dr: It's not what I've retained, it's that I've ebbed and flowed and changed, and given myself the space to clumsily stumble towards what I want and what I value, even if I'm not always sure what those are. I'm letting go of the construct that I have to be anything, and I emphatically choose not to be lots of things. It's a process, and it's nonlinear. But nothing is, and there's grace in the inevitably of ebb.

[lyrical-fanfics]

Was I too forward? (Jamil ViperxFem!Reader)

Sorry this took so long! I struggled so much with my motivation! I hope this satiates y'all for a little bit!

This is part of a series of one-shots that will later tie into a longer series on my AO3. They're meant to be read like the vignettes in Twisted Wonderland, so if you want a sequel please let me know. Also, let me know if you think you know what the dorm the reader is based on!

The reader is not Yuu. The reader is a student at the OC sister school Fantasia College for girls

3rd person POV

Genre: Fluff, comfort,

Fem!Reader

Whispers had been accompanying the cold winter wind that blew through the combined campuses. As soon as (Name) had gotten back from her winter break at home, she heard the insistent chittering of Scarabia students as they talked about their experience.  

‘Another Overblot’ hissed through their teeth. ‘He went crazy’ they whispered under their breath. ‘Kalim is the only reason he’s still where he is.’  

These remarks, these hush words, they were all too familiar. She knew there was something deeper with every story. She also knew that with each overblot, there was power there.  

She winced as she heard another whisper. She might not have known the full details, but she knew that there was more than just ‘going crazy’.  

Overblot had been on the rise since Fantasia merged with NRC, but the Fantasia College for Girls often tried to cover up any overblots that happened, lest the old superstition about female mages and their dangerous tendencies crop up again. The Fantasia College for Girls had trouble negotiating a merge in the beginning, as Fantasia had recently gone through a scandal grand enough to where the Headmage stepped away for some time, leaving the three sister substitute Headmages that Fantasia had today. No one really knew the extent of the scandal, and most of the evidence had been scrubbed.  

Despite having been practiced in the art of a cover-up, Housewarden Rebecca’s overblot spread like wildfire. (Name) could do nothing for her friend and Housewarden as Rebecca absorbed the abuse around her. She admired Rebecca, and every pointed glance or silent sneer ached (Name)’s heart as Rebecca put up with every single bit of it. Whispers sparked embers, and hisses of disapproval fed the flames like fresh tinder. (Name) had known Rebecca for years, yet she couldn’t help her in the complex situation that led up to her overblot. She carried that guilt with her every day.  

NCR didn’t cover up the overblots as well as Fantasia did. The current kindle of whispers was focused on Jamil Viper. While (Name) didn’t know him well, she had been watching him for the past few days. Maybe it was the grace that was similar to Rebecca’s, or maybe it was his silent ambivalence to the words around him while he continued to work hard at school that made her focus on him. Either way, she found herself staring more often than not.  

Jamil was highly aware of this staring, however, and he dealt with it along with the gossiping of the two campuses. Each whisper was like a cigarette being extinguished on his skin. He endured while rebuilding the image he so carefully had to hold in front of him, the image of a devoted attendant, but part of him was glad it shattered. Part of him wanted to crush the pieces beneath his feet and scream at the world. Kalim knew everything now, and his behavior had changed somewhat, but he knew that his image was in tatters. Any sort of trust, any sort of reputation that he carefully crafted, grain by grain, was gone. He didn’t know what was more frustrating, the fact that he had to build it back up, or the fact that he almost didn’t want to. 

While he was frustrated with piecing his image back together, he was also rather perplexed by the girl who kept staring. Most people had one of two gazes, it was either one of disdain or a simple glance before scurrying off. This one, however, just stared. Her gaze was hard to read, but she never approached, despite its intensity. She looked like she wanted to, but she never did.  

He would catch her gaze from time to time, but each time she would blink, turn, then scurry away. He was getting a bit annoyed by it, and eventually, he couldn’t help but feel his curiosity overtake him.  

He had his chance one day when he saw her running about with a binder in her arms. She of course gave him a glance as she passed by, but paid the price dearly. She ended up tripping over an uneven part of the pavement, launching herself across the walkway. Her binder flew upward, scattering some papers that were covered in schematics and plans, along with a lengthy list of things to do. Jamil panics as he rushes over to (Name), whose face, hands, and knees were now scraped up. Blood was starting to well at her knees.  

“Are you alright?” Jamil’s immediate concern caused other onlookers to hesitate with helping. (Name) was clearly flustered as she tried to scramble to her feet, but her knees betrayed her. Jamil hovers his hands over (Name) as she attempts to get up again, and he encouraged her to grab ahold of him while she did so.  

“My binder…” She pointed out as she gripped Jamil’s jacket. He lifted her up while turning his head, spotting the binder on the ground, splayed open with multiple pages scattered on the pavement.  

Jamil responds with a sigh “Sit up for me first and I’ll grab them.” His hand gently lead (Name) to sit up before grabbing her precious binder and papers that went flying. He took note of some of the papers, remarking that this girl must have a busy day ahead of her. He turned his head before sighing again, as the girl was clearly trying to stand back up again.  

After gathering up everything, Jamil went back to check on (Name), who was still in a bit of shock after eating the pavement that hard.  

    “Don’t try and walk this off,” He chastised, “You’re way too wobbly for my liking. Just relax and let me take care of this.” Jamil took it upon himself to bring her to the closest infirmary and take some precious time out of his day to care for (Name).  

The infirmary is primarily empty, as most students stop pretending to be sick once classes are out for the day, and most dorms take care of any minor injuries themselves. Because (Name) was running about the NRC campus, she didn’t have the option to pop back into her own dorm. After patching her up, Jamil finally had the opportunity to talk to the girl that had been incessantly staring at him. She had been quiet the entire time, and not even a hiss of pain came out of her when he applied anti-septics. He did finally get to read her expression slightly, as her eyes seemed trusting and soft. 

After applying the final bandage, Jamil decided to scold her. “You should be more careful next time, you were completely distracted…” He trailed off at the end, thinking about why she was distracted. Sure, she was staring right at him when she tasted concrete, but there had to be more than that.  

“I suppose I was distracted. Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” (Name) smiled a little before looking down at the bandage job, she was right, he wasn’t like the rumors. He’s just as smart as she thought he was too. What a brilliantly complex person. She could feel her heart rate spike as Jamil watched her.  

Jamil shifted his jaw with a bit of curiosity and exasperation. She seemed calm, which was good. She wasn’t fighting against his recommendations either, which was a relief for once.  

“You’ve been staring quite a bit. If it’s not too much of an intrusion, may I ask why?”  

“Oh, so you noticed,” (Name) nervously played with a strand of hair, and Jamil was quick to snap back.  

“How could I not have noticed? We’ve made eye contact several times!” Jamil pouted and (Name) giggled.  

“Right, right, I was hoping a little too hard that you didn’t notice.” (Name) admitted. She looked at her palms which had been professionally cleaned and bandaged. “I guess I admire you.” 

Her genuine smile and timid tone she took while admitting her admiration gave him whiplash. His eyes bulged and his body tensed. His throat closed up as he lost his words. Sure, a sense of pride also welled up in him as well, but he didn’t expect such a compliment from the girl that had a staring problem.  

“Sorry, was that a bit too forward?” (Name) blushed and looked elsewhere, but the lack of her gaze made Jamil feel a bit lonely. He cleared his throat to regain composure.  

“No, I was the one who asked. I appreciate your honesty.”  

It had been a little while since he heard such praise or admiration. His overblot incident caused his carefully crafted facade to be trashed, but maybe it hadn’t reached the Fantasia campus. He didn’t know if he wanted to correct her or not, as he wanted to continue to have someone admire him, for just a little bit.  

(Name) smiled as Jamil allowed himself to get a bit closer. Who was she exactly? Why did his reputation not tarnish with her? His eyes couldn’t help but finally take a better look at her while she rested.  

He continued to watch over her, asking if she needed food, water, or anything she desired, but she denied most inquiries. He soon became comfortable enough to sit on the edge of her bed and have a type of conversation he’d been sorely missing. She took him seriously, and her calm aura relaxed him. She held a realistic admiration for him, but she expected nothing from him at the same time. Her conversations were interesting, and he enjoyed that she could keep up with his own quips and responses.  

Just as Jamil became enthralled with the idea of sparking a friendship with (Name), his phone interrupted the moment between the two with its buzzing and ringing. He grumbled as he whipped it out and looked at the name plastered on the screen before apologizing to (Name) and taking the call. (Name) only gave him a wry smile, she could tell through his face and tone that Jamil wasn’t exactly thrilled to speak with the person on the other end.  

“Kalim? Is there something wrong?”  

“Jam-iiiiiil!” Kalim was so loud over the phone that (Name) could hear the entire conversation. “Jamil! There’s an emergency!”  

(Name) watched as Jamil’s face scrunched and fell as he went through all the stages of grief in less than 2 minutes as he listened to the totally avoidable emergency his Housewarden had gotten into.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. I’ll call someone from my dorm to get me.” (Name)’s independent assurance made Jamil feel as if Cupid’s arrow had just grazed him. It was a relief, but now he didn’t want to leave her. He felt torn about leaving her in the infirmary, but he knew that chances were better than not that he’d see her again. He’d just have to bide his time and get to know her better. For now, he had to accept that this was all he was going to get.  

    Jamil pointed at (Name)’s phone, then opened his hand as if he was asking for it. (Name) obliged, unlocking it as he spoke to Kalim over the phone. She gently placed it in his hand with contacts open. “Just calm down, I’ll be there soon, but before I get there, I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say and do it.” as he spoke the instructions, he quickly entered his number into (Name)’s phone and did his best to memorize hers. After completing his task one-handed, he gave (Name) back her phone. (Name) watched as Jamil got up and walked toward the door, but before he was about to leave, he quickly turned around, smiled at (Name), and waved goodbye.  

(Name) smiled as she watched him leave, and waited patiently for a member of her dorm to arrive. Once a dorm member did, she was surprised to see (Name) had waited there instead of just returning to the dorm herself.  

“It’s unlike you Vice-Housewarden (Name), usually you would be in such a hurry to complete your list that you’d be fighting us to get out of bed!” The member flicked her mouse ear as she placed her hands on her hips. She wasn’t particularly afraid of confronting (Name), as such questioning was never seen as blasphemous.  

(Name) shuffled the sheets off of her, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed before smoothing the wrinkles out of her uniform skirt. She could only smile at the curious mouse beastman girl.  

“I don't know, I was shown kindness by someone I knew they had, but it felt so special I didn’t want it to end. Maybe I just waited because I was hoping for something.” (Name) bluntly admitted, and her dorm member furrowed her brow.  

“You really are an open book about some of your thoughts, huh?”  

(Name) laughed at the student’s comment “Ah, was I too forward again?”  

[rosavulpes]

Testing the ground beneath him with every step he took , he could feel small beads of sweat trailing down from his chin to his chest underneath his layers of insulating clothing .

However , he could not risk removing them . Not yet , not now . Not while the winds around him still howled , the snow continuing to fall heavily around him . At times obscuring his vision , other times ? Obscuring his path forwards .

Making use of an elongated broken branch as a walking cane to help secure his footing as he made his careful descent down the mountains . He knew that he still had a ways to go still before he reached his destination , assuming it was even real in the first place , and that the stories that he had heard of her ? Weren't just all tall tales .

With his breath coming out as a fine mist against the low temperatures , as tempted as he was to continue onwards in search of this mystical forest ? He could feel his body starting to slow down , the strain of his journey thus far catching up with him . While he'd been taught to compartmentalize , and disassociate himself from feelings of physical pain in order to push through them ... he knew it was wiser to listen to them when appropriate .

This was one such moment .

By his own approximations , he should hopefully reach the home of the rumored witch within three day's time of walking . Past these mountains , until he'd hit low laying rolling plains , and then ? A deep forest , where he'd at least be able to walk unfettered by the cold .

Finding refugee within a cave that bore deeper into the mountains . He'd set himself up near the mouth , after exploring the depths to ensure there were no signs of life , animal or otherwise that might pose a threat to him .

Setting down his rustic camping backpack , he'd pick out a large pot from among his belongings , and some materials to spark a fire underneath it . Packing his pot to the brim with freshly fallen snow and ice so it could begin to boil . Knowing it was safe to drink once fully , and properly boiled as it was snow that was not near any form of man made contaminants . Clean . Though he'd still inspect , and filter it before he'd allow himself to use it of course . Water starting to rise within his pot before long .

Resting his weary back against the cavern walls , he could feel ice protruding from the rock . A place such as this ... might have certainly scared others off from going any further , discouraged the curious . However , in Mamoru's mind ? It bore a striking resemblance to another . One that he'd learned to scale from base to summit through years of grueling training .

Training , that had resulted in vast improvements to his physique , his martial arts prowess , his knowledge of complex mechanisms , machinery , and engineering . He'd gotten the answers to most every question that he could possibly think of ... save for the one that he spurred him to leave behind the life of luxury that he'd been born into . A life , that even now , remained within his grasp . But , a life that he no longer had any interest in living as Mamoru Chiba . The heir to the Chiba family fortune . He'd died long ago on a night that had felt as cold as this one did .

Brining out a worn book , and pencil . Mamoru skimmed through it's pages until he found a blank one . Putting pencil to paper , and beginning to write as he waited for his water to reach boiling temperature .

" I've made more progress today . At least thirty miles roughly . Scaling the mountain ranges that lay between me , and the flatlands that should further lead into the forest where the witch resides . As I've hiked , I've had time to think back on my travels thus far . I can only assume that Duchard is hunting for me , as are likely many others for " Bruce Wayne " , and while I do not fear them ... I still wonder if I made the right choice . Before I met Duchard , before I trained under the league , I followed many within the international criminal underworld . All because I wanted to know why ... why do people ... why someone would be able to point a gun at someone else and kill them . To take what is most precious , life . Whether it be for a political cause , for vengeance , for revolution ... or just for the simple wads of paper in their wallet . Why ? Is it a cry for help ? A sign of failure of a government , an economy ? or is it a sign of evil ... a sickness . One that cannot be alleviated , or cured unless met in kind with death . It's a spiraling abyss , one that I've looked deep into for so long now ... but I've yet to fall into like so many others have . I don't know if I'd be able to come back ... or if I'd even want to . How do I fight against that darkness without becoming it ? How could I save others from it ? I think ... that the only thing that truly frightens me now ... is what would become of me if I were to give up on trying to find my answer . If I allowed myself to fall into it . If I were to stop violence with death , to stop death with death ... That's why I've chosen to search for her . The Witch . A name , and a term coined by man , as a means of attempting to explain what she is by our own terminology . Our way of seeing the world . A way of making the unknown , less frightening . A means of attempting to reduce the power she holds over many by her presence alone ... the power of fear . Of the unknown , of something that cannot be understood , or explained but remains present all the same . That power , is what I hope to learn from her "

Setting his journal down as he noticed his pot of water steaming , and beginning to spill out a bit on the ground . Mamoru removed the pot from the open flame , serving himself a cup that could be enjoyed hot to warm himself up . The rest , to be used as a base for a simple stew with pieces of chopped vegetables , and meat .

@cursedfortune

[catgirl-frostmoon]

Memories Come in on Little Cat Feet

@fyeahghosttrick  it be the #ghost swap and it be for you, @katecattus​ I ended up following three of your prompts (mostly by accident, mind you XD). Here they are: Prompt #1 Anything on how Yomiel met Sissel, could be at any point in their lives, any situation, just give me a first spark that attracted them to each other Prompt #2 I don’t get tired of Yomiel in prison, so anything on that note, be it a story or an art would be nice Prompt #3 The main cast interacting with Yomiel post canon. Make it an accident or something planned, apologetic on one or both sides, but something with a feel-good vibe And here’s the Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48004426 ____

It has been said that 'the fog comes in on little cat feet'; perhaps that is why your thoughts came in like fog, a gradual build-up of emotions and memories.

That's when I met you, old friend.

I had ransacked your body, claimed it as my own. I had pitter-pattered those little cat feet - no, little kitten feet, given how small you were (as small as you are now, because I took away your ability to grow up) - off in search of food, of water, of comfort and 'home'. All I could hear originally were your base thoughts: 'I need food', 'I'll die of starvation', 'it's just so cold', and 'I'm lonely'. 'I'm lonely, lonely, lonely, abandoned by all those who might love me.' (I was so lonely, too. That's almost certainly what drove us together.)

So I took you out, traveled away from the corpse I didn't realize was mine, and gathered you food, and gathered water water, and gathered even the occasional appreciative human. In those days, as you slept on the brink of consciousness and I had forgotten my own twisted existence, life was vaguely peaceful, a sort of fuzzy cohabitation where neither party was truly in their best minds. And then I found her, dangling down from our ceiling, and everything I had forgotten came rushing back.

All the memories of yours that had crept in like mist, the immediate recollection of who was in front of me - they made me realize that I was somehow in someone else's body, rummaging around a house I just traveled to on subconscious instinct alone, parading around some cat while my own body was gods-know-where and my fiance was, well. I don't even remember what happened directly afterwards; I know I retrieved my corpse at some point and had puppeteered it back home, but how exactly I did that has only gotten fuzzier over time. Despite the whole "taking over your body" thing, I still had yet to fully absorb the implications of my abilities, or my state of being, because wow, who'd have thought that the lack of feeling was some weird side effect of being a walking corpse and not just an awful trauma response? All I know is that a few days later, I was somehow taking care of the starved kitten I accidentally saved, adopting a name for you I never thought I'd use again.

…I think it was that convergence of memories that netted you the name Sissel."

And so, the ghostly black cat who moved as though he was transient, blue mist - he blinked back, his fur rippling against the blood-red backdrop. "I see."

 (I'm fighting the urge to facepalm, Sissel, because that was a non-response if there ever was one.)

"Yes, well," a slight bristle here, a twitchy whisker there, "I'm not sure if I have any good responses to this." (I can't mess up on my words here…!)

"Cat got your tongue?"

"...."

"...still," the man-formerly-in-red-but-now-currently-in-pink spoke with an-almost smile, a sight more common as each day in the new world passed, "thanks for listening. You and the other Sissel check up so frequently that I can almost push past the leftover despair." And with that, his not-quite-smile darkened with melancholy, a much more familiar sight. "Almost."

And so, in lieu of a response, Sissel leaned himself into Yomiel's shoulder; an ethereal feeling, as everything in the ghost world is, but a comforting touch nonetheless. "Then," with a patented cat smile, "I'll just keep asking you questions until you can truly smile. Okay?" And without waiting for a response, the mental link ended, the world no longer painted in hues of red, a ghostly black cat no longer (visibly) gracing his presence.

"I'll hold you to it."

[apalonecreations]

Analysis time with Othello: Hamato Ninpō

Okay I can't sleep so now it's everyone's problem.

I've been thinking about the Hamato Ninpō and how the turtles actually received it.

Technically they never actually tapped into said ninpō until they ended up with a life or death situation for their siblings (ehem, Raph falling off the really high tree) and even then they weren't thinking about the ninpō at the time. They only got it when they *weren't* trying to get it, which makes me think that they didn't actually need meditation, they just needed a *reason* for the ninpō.

The ancestors probably got theirs sooner and easier but that's likely only because A. They knew more about how to get it and the older era was so much different than it is now, B. They actually had a reason to need theirs (keeping the dark armour locked away/fighting off the Shredder in the past), and C. They were actually trained in the Hamato arts well before their time of needing it.

This makes me think that even if the turtles hadn't known, they still would have tapped into that Hamato Ninpō purely because of their strong desire to protect those they cared about. They just needed a very good reason, and they got their reason when they had to save Raph.

I also hypothesize that their Ninpō was actually also charged by their strong bond with each other. Remember, they got theirs *together* when going after their brother whom they *all* had the same desire to save. Their Ninpō might actually be more connected to each other than we previously thought.

And since they're of Hamato genes, they likely already always had it, it just laid dormant for their whole lives because it was never really necessary. Sure people may point out when Leo was dropped off the roof, that they should have gotten it when saving him then, however they didn't take it seriously (or at least Leo didn't) and he was saved thanks to his mystics.

Actually, what if maybe he *did* actually tap into his Ninpō then and he just didn't realize it? Sure, it was mostly powered by mystics (or so we think) however it was super powerful, and it was powered up when he really needed it most: when Leo was dropped off the building. Leo could have died, and Raph knew that full well. He was scared for him and likely way more than the show actually let on. Perhaps he was actually the first to unlock it, and maybe that was how he was able to get it so easily when they saved him from the tree.

Though this hypothesis ends up making my other one seem weaker, so let me back it up.

Yes, I said that their Ninpō could all be connected, however maybe it did actually connect. Perhaps it actually unlocked that small spark in the others that just hadn't been fully developed in them yet.

We see in the movie how their Ninpō is this ball of mystic energy surrounded by a ring of some sort, so perhaps he just strengthened theirs when he unlocked his completely during the roof scene. That could be how they had such a powerful power up when they *did* completely unlock theirs.

It's likely just a stretch, but it's fascinating and fun to think about.

I had this thought at 3AM on a school night so it's probably not as concrete in details or anything because of it.

[peoplcshope]

🤩 Who is someone in your rpc that you admire?

unconventional asks meme / accepting

Bruv sit down cause this is going to be a list. The people below are the ones I admire, or WELL some of the ones because this could go for a bit. And note these are in no particular order, so the first doesn’t mean the best and the last doesn’t mean the least. I love all these peeps and admire ‘em equally.

We startin’ with my main man Ethan at @hopefromadoomedtimeline . I wake up in the morning and hope my portrayals are half that good and that ain’t even glazin him. Go on his blog and see it for yourself, we love DBZ but let’s not lie, damn show has more holes in it that spongebob and my boy here has made wonderful HCs to compensate. Really putting that unique spin on the dude.

The writer that brings me angst and I always come for more, my homie Koko @kiealer . Everytime when she be showing me her wonderful art I feel that spark that I used to have when I was young to pick up a paper and go draw somethin’ but..nah the skill ain’t there anymore but she does inspire me to do better at my manga coloring. 

Homie here that’s just pure chaos on my list, it’s my homegril T @acoldsovereign . She does bring me the angst too but usually it’s just covered with a lot of bullshit moments, add a little comedy into the mix. She’s soo great with her writing and it inspires me to do better. Really all I need to do is get better at bein descriptive AND not to mention my grammar. 

It wouldn’t really be my blog if I’m not saying Tazzy’s @dragvnsovl praises. The fact that this homie o’ mine writes RADITZ, NAPPA AND WHO? The OG GOAT YAMCHA, that inspired me to throw Krillin onto my multi. Always loved him and really he just..that’s my guy and she really do doing great with her muses too that I hope I can do the same for my multi..when I’m not too lazy.

These are my homies that always gimme a little inspiration everyday. But you think I was done??! There's @swordsxandxsakuras  who took an already known muse and said fuck it, let’s go canon divergent with this bih and basically turned Nezuko in somethin’ that works for her. The bravery and strength t’ do that on a public space like Tumblr? Nah i’d be caught lacking. Then there’s @eternalbxtterfly Snow who’s given me Elise’ smile for years now. What little time my muse gets to spend with @aceparagon  muse is time well spent too, and I’m really biased when it comes to Bishamon faces. Don’t get me started on my girl Rena’s muse. @zorkaya Has been inspiring your boy with his villain play because she does write a good villain as well. 

You think I was finna finish this segment without mentioning  my snom sis @universestreasures . Girl here has inspired me when it came to the romance genre. I still feel like it’s my weakest genre but I can tell you she’s helped me feel a little more confident in starting ships now. Oh can’t forget about Chai @infintasmal  . Aspire me to be a better Sinbad because she was THE PERF Ja’far for him. My homie Meli @crimsontwins  back when I REALLY was deep into Genshin lore, inspiring me to learn MORE and more about the game in order to make our roleplay that much nicer. I think I might have gotten to half of my homies but man, imma have to put a long post warning.

[drsoulblast-official]

The Second SoulBlast Newsletter is here!

What's new?

The search for artists is likely nearing its end, as SoulBlast now has S.D and Darkduckpl as its newest team members! There are other candidates still going through their own tests and trials, but once those are over, SoulBlast character designs may begin to appear overtime!

Where did the songs go?

Just like with the break we needed in the newsletters, the team had taken a small break from making the high priority songs in the soundtrack to make 10 side themes which we hope to be able to show here soon. RoTheNonBinaryPal and Averie_0 have been working behind the scenes to create original tracks for additional bonus rooms in the AU's school replacement, which is why the break was needed.

While on the topic of songs, the "ooohsocoolblast" theme has since been finished (and appropriately renamed, as "ooohsocoolblast" was just a placeholder). And to make up for the missing newsletter, here's a little teaser of another one of SoulBlast's songs!

"It’s for an area theme in chapter 1 and is heavily spacey"!

ZETARUNE Partnership?

Between the last newsletter and now, SoulBlast has officially made a partnership with @zetarune772 ! For those unfamiliar about ZETARUNE, here's a shortened explanation from Cel (AU owner):

Howdy! Welcome to ZETARUNE! A little au focused on making some... interesting spins, shifts, and switcharoos, where earth and electricity swaps with light and dark. Relax, sit back, order a coffee or two, take time on those projects or schoolworks you've been needing to do. Just don't get lost in the glades...

Earth <> Light

Spark <> Dark

Dess <> Kris

Asriel <> Susie

Noelle <> Ralsei

Discord: https://discord.gg/hjsdDyeCrk

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/zetarune772

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zetarune772

Twitter: https://twitter.com/candles_n_stars

What's Terra been up to?

Recently, I haven’t gotten much done. Most of my time was “free” whenever I was in a car or bus. I’ve completed literal weeks of deltaswap work for Alter in a couple days (NOTE: Terra is very good in regards to thinking of fitting ideas quickly , and it's still to see with how much he's able to do! - Imaginary-Regret-608). I expect to either do a bit of work for my Dusttale take soon, or to work out some specific details for main characters in chapter 1 of SoulBlast. I think you’ll like the songs we have in store :)

Wait, but what's ALTERNIMO been up to?

Sup, it’s Alter, and here I am with my own newsletter section! (never thought it’d happen.) So, I’ll go ahead and say what I’ve been up to recently; I’ve been writing down all the ideas that Terra’s made for Deltaswap (chill Terra chill, I keep trying to give you Deltaswap breaks but you just can’t get enough (can’t blame you)), which some of you might not even know that I have a Deltaswap take but I indeed do. I’ve also been searching for new artists for SoulBlast, and…haven’t had too much luck, but I’ve got a few, and we’re hoping we’ll be able to pick up the pace with art stuff. I’ve also been drawing lil concept arts of SoulBlast characters, but…won’t get too much into that. Anyway, I’ll quit my yapping, since Alter doesn’t fully equal SoulBlast and this is a SoulBlast newsletter, not an Alter one… peace.

That's all!

Go check out our stuff below! The next newsletter will be posted in 2 weeks (since it’s biweekly)

YouTube: https://youtube.com/@soulblastau5574?si=fuh6MJy1Hgd4FVaT

SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/UVadRL6CSVdqxkRv9

Discord: https://discord.gg/3bAtNkxH2P

[f0rt1e]

Devlog #0 | An unexpected journey into a game development

What does it take to go from gamer to game creator, especially when you're the team's artist, coder, and tester, all rolled into one? I would like to have an answer!

In this blog, I invite you to join me at the very start of an (hopefully) exciting journey: developing my own indie game, solo. As I dive into the territories of game design and coding, I'll be sharing regular updates about my progress, the hurdles I encounter, the solutions I discover, and the lessons I learn along the way. 

Whether you're someone who's interested in the behind-the-scenes of game creation, a fellow developer, or perhaps someone thinking about starting their own project, this blog will give you a window into the real-time ups and downs of bringing a game to life from scratch.

So why do I want to dive into a gamedev? You know, I've always been hooked on video games, always curious about the magic that goes on behind the scenes. Back in school and through university, I dabbled in a few courses on Unity, GameMaker, and Unreal Engine. But, to be honest, I never really threw myself into it—either the motivation wasn't there, or the ideas just didn't spark. Fast forward a few years, I've kicked off a career in tech, working now as a technical architect, yet my love for games hasn't faded a bit.

Recently, I found myself thinking, "Why not take a crack at the gaming industry?" But with little direct experience or relevant skills, just a ton of passion and a nagging curiosity, I realized I needed something solid to show for myself. So, I signed up for some new courses and decided to start my own little project. It’s sort of a mini-portfolio, something to back up my leap into game development. Let's see where this goes!

Sparkling idea

Lately, I've really gotten into city builders. I've played everything from SimCity to Cities Skylines, and from Banished to Settlers — not to mention the recent Manor Lords. It's been a blast, but sometimes these games can get a bit too intricate and overwhelming. That got me thinking — what if I could create a game that's more laid-back, user-friendly, and just easy to dive into? That's when the idea hit me: why not develop a medieval city builder? I imagined a game with a straightforward economy, some interesting research and discovery elements, but nothing too complicated. With just that simple concept in mind, I started developing my game.

As I mentioned, I was somewhat familiar with Unity, so naturally, I started my project there. I even made some headway — created an island with procedural generation complete with biomes and objects like rocks, trees, and flowers, got some pathfinding in place, and even prototype of a building process. But it didn't take long to realize that Unity might be a bit overkill for what I had in mind. My project wasn't that massive, and Unity felt too complex for my needs.

So, I began looking for something a bit simpler and more user-friendly. That's when I stumbled upon Godot. At first, Godot seemed a bit mysterious, but I decided to dive in and give it a shot. I'm really glad I did! Despite a slight shortage of learning materials, Godot has been a dream to work with. It's flexible, feels more approachable, and has everything I need for my 2D city builder, which, by the way, is going to be in pixel art style.

Right from the start, it's clear that being an artist is pretty much a prerequisite for game development. Sure, you could take the easy route and just buy or download assets, but where's the fun in that? Here's the thing—I'm no artist. Drawing a square is about as artistic as I get, and even then, it's a pretty questionable square. So, learning to create my own graphics was a big hurdle I had to overcome. Pixel art caught my eye because it seemed like it had the most forgiving learning curve for a beginner like me. So, I decided to give it a shot.

Current state and future plans

So here I am, just starting out with my project. I recently moved everything over to Godot, and it feels like a fresh start. Right now, I've decided to put the procedural generation on the back burner. Instead, I'm prioritizing what really matters to me at this stage—creating my first pieces of art, laying down the basics of the road system, buildings, navigation, and sketching out the interface placeholders. I’ll dive deeper into the progress I’ve made in my next post.

It's been almost two months since I started developing this game, and boy, it’s been a journey. There aren’t always clear-cut answers in game development—it’s more like an art form, with your imagination and ideas being the only real limits. I’m constantly faced with new questions and challenges, but that’s what makes this process so exhilarating.

I’m really hoping this is the start of something great, not just another fleeting idea. I want to see it grow into something both playable and visually appealing that I’ve created myself. I’ve got plenty of ideas buzzing around, and I’ll be sure to share them as the game develops and hopefully bring them to life.

Just a note to my future self: all you started with was an idea, interest, and a challenge to yourself.

Keep an eye out for more updates—I’ll have more to share very soon!

By the way - here is the photo of a project 2 months ago:

This white square is a house. Believe or not.