#warhammer world no so bad after all

[heliinx]

BRUH THEY HAVE SPAGHETTI?

[anarchotolkienist]

you’re attacking that neopagan kind of birthstone post about druid plants, but could you please elaborate or at least clarify the explicit trope that is being used that has been historically weaponized?

I used to spend about a good third of my time on this godforsaken website attacking that idea, but sure, I'll do it again. This will be a bit of an effortpost, so I'll stick it under the readmore

There is a notion of 'celts' or Gaels as being magicial and somehow deeply in touch with nature and connected to pre-Christian worldviews that the people who decided to make up the "Celtic tree astrology" used. This is also why Buffy used Irish Gaelic as the language of the demons, why Warhammer uses Gaelic as Elvish, why garbled Scottish Gaelic is used by Wiccans as the basis for their new religious construct, why people call themselves Druids to go an say chants in bad Welsh in Stonehenge, or Tursachan Chalanais, or wherever, etc etc. This stuff is everywhere in popular culture today, by far the dominant view of Celtic language speaking peoples. Made up neopagan nonsense is the only thing you find if you go looking for Gaelic folklore, unless you know where to look, and so on and so on. I could multiply examples Endless, and in fact have throughout the lifespan of this blog, and probably will continue to.

To make a long history extremely brief (you can ask me for sources on specifics, or ask me to expand if you're interested), this is directly rooted in a mediaeval legalistic discussion in Catholic justifications for the expansionist policies of the Normans, especially in Ireland, who against the vigourous protestation of the Church in Ireland claimed that the Gaelic Irish were practically Pagan in practice and that conquest against fellow Christians was justified to bring them in like with the Church. That this was nonsense I hope I don't need to state. Similar discourses about the Gaels in Scotland exist at the same time, as is clear from the earliest sources we have postdating the Gaelic kingdom of Alba becoming Scotland discussing the 'coastal Scots' - who speak Ynglis (early Scots) and are civilised - and the 'forest Scots' (who speak 'Scottis' (Middle Gaelic) and have all the hallmarks of barbarity. This discourse of Gaelic savagery remains in place fairly unchanged as the Scottish and then British crowns try various methods for integrating Gaeldom under the developing early state, provoking constant conflict and unrest, support certain clans and chiefs against others and generally massively upset and destabilise life among the Gaels both in Scotland and Ireland. This campaign, which is material in root but has a superstructure of Gaelic savagery and threat justifying it develops through attempts at assimilation, more or less failed colonial schemes in Leòdhas and Ìle, the splitting of the Gaelic Irish from the Gaelic Scots through legal means and the genocide of the Irish Gaels in Ulster, eventually culminates in the total ban on Gaelic culture, ethnic cleansing and permanent military occupation of large swathes of Northern Scotland, and the destruction of the clan system and therefore of Gaelic independence from the Scottish and British state, following the last rising in 1745-6.

What's relevant here is that the attitude of Gaelic barbarity, standing lower on the civilisational ladder than the Anglo Saxons of the Lowlands and of England, was continuously present as a justification for all these things. This package included associations with the natural world, with paganisms, with emotion, and etc. This set of things then become picked up on by the developing antiquarian movement and early national romantics of the 18th century, when the Gaels stop being a serious military threat to the comfortable lives of the Anglo nobility and developing bourgeoise who ran the state following the ethnic cleansing after Culloden and permanent occupation of the Highlands (again, ongoing to this day). They could then, as happened with other colonised peoples, be picked up on and romanticised instead, made into a noble savage, these perceived traits which before had made them undesirable now making them a sad but romantic relic of an inexorably disappearing past. It is no surprise that Sir Walter Scott (a curse upon him and all his kin) could make Gaels the romantic leads of his pseudohistorical epics at the exact same time that Gaels were being driven from their traditional lands in their millions and lost all traditional land rights. These moves are related. This tradition is what's picked up on by Gardner when he decides to use mangled versions of Gaelic Catholic practice (primarily) as collected by the Gaelic folklorist Alasdair MacIlleMhìcheil as the coating for Wicca, the most influential neo-pagan "religion" to claim a 'Celtic' root and the base of a lot of oncoming nonsense like that Celtic Tree Astrology horseshit that started this whole thing, and give it a pagan coat of paint while also adding some half-understood Dharmic concepts (three-fold law anyone?) and a spice of deeply racist Western Esotericism to the mix. That's why shit like that is directly harmful, not just historically but in the present total blotting out of actually existing culture of Celtic language speakers and their extremely precarious communities today.

If you want to read more, I especially recommend Dr. Silke Stroh's work Gaelic Scotland in the Colonial Imaginary, Dr. Aonghas MacCoinnich's book Plantation and Civility in the North-Atlantic World, the edited collection Mio-rún Mór nan Gall on Lowland-Highland divide, the Gaelic writer known in English as Ian Crichton Smith's essay A real people in a real place on these impacts on Gaelic speaking communities in the 20th century, Dr. Donnchadh Sneddons essay on Gaelic racial ideas present in Howard and Lovecrafts writings, and Dr. James Hunter's The Making of the Crofting Community for a focus on the clearings of Gaels after the land thefts of the late 18th and early 19th century.

@grimdr an do chaill mi dad cudromach, an canadh tu?

[bloodyshadow1]

Adaine's Furious Fist pt 2

The second day of school starts with half an assembly, half a wake. You aren't surprised, but you also don't really care. Arthur was a crackpot, but you respected him for his bloodlust and power, not to mention when he was more in his faculties his refusal to play by anyone's rules but his own, and probably not even then. Doreen was a fine woman, but you normally ate in the teacher's lounge so your paths didn't really cross.

Gibbons on the other hand was an asshole, through and through, you're glad he's gone. He might have preached about feelings and all that garbage as the guidance counselor, but you've always known what he was. He could fool everyone else with the calm caring persona he put on, but you always knew there was a monster bubbling under the surface. He had was fueled by spite, not even rage, and was just too much of a coward to do anything about it. The look in his eye that he always had when talking to someone who turned away and he thought no one was watching. It actually creeped you out enough to avoid the little bastard.

Well he's dead now, probably in some hell somewhere if there's any justice in this world, and Justice has been dead for a long time. You'll find his grave after school and piss on it when no one is around for your own form of justice.

But well death happens and time moves on. You still have classes to teach and the second day which means you actually get a good look at the freshman this year. There are always two types of barbarian freshmen. There are those who are afraid of their rage, soft weaklings that you need to mold, or there are arrogant little bitches. The latter were often kids who hit puberty before the rest of their age group. They grew taller and stronger earlier which tended to give them an ego. It was important to break them down early, to knock them off their high horses and make them realize there was more to being a barbarian, more to rage than just being bigger and stronger than your opponent. Sure it helped, but monsters tended to be bigger than adventurers, even if they're not bigger than you anymore, so being bigger and stronger than the rest of your party didn't cut it in the real world.

That's why you have the gauntlet the first Friday of the year for your freshman class. You open it up to all comers in class, anyone who can take you in a one on one fight gets an A for the semester, don't even have to come to class. You won't even use your warhammer, just your barehands. You've been teaching at Aguefort for a long time, no ones even managed to knock you down much less beat you. There are always some cocky little shit who thinks they're big and bad because they're taller or stronger than their classmates, but none of them are as big or as strong as you. Usually three is enough for the class to get the message, and this year will be likely be no different.

As always, it's always the bigger stronger races in your class. Goliaths, half-orcs, orcs, firbolgs who aren't interested in druid classes. But there are also two shorties in your class this year. Donavan a Satyr and Skuttle a Kobold. Both short, both girls, but you don't care. You're a lot of things, but you're not racist or sexist. sure you are planning on other throwing your goddess to take her place, but that's because she's not willing to finish off her ex wife or sister. And for power, power a big part of it. But no, it's not about putting a woman in her place no matter what anyone might think.

Donavan is a trembly as the Abernant girl was yesterday. But there's something about her that makes you take an interest. She's strong, not the strongest, but it's still something. She hasn't even raged yet, but there's something about her that stops you from suggesting she take a different track.

Skuttle on the other hand is the strangest barbarian student you've ever seen. You've mostly seen the scared or the cocky, you've never met an apathetic barbarian until yesterday. You thought it might have been first day nerves, but she might actually just be like that. She does what you tell her to do, nothing more nothing less. Like Donavan she's strong for her size, but you're still unsure how to teach her. You just decide to ignore her for now, let her do the classwork and then go on her forums for whatever. Not worth teaching someone who is apathetic in the face of rage.

The only other outlier is Thistlespring. He says his name is Gorgug, you don't really care, he looks like a Gorbag to you anyway. He's the softest fucking barbarian that you've ever seen. He actually thinks singing is a good way to deal with foes. He is strong as fuck, but you still almost kicked him out of your class then and there you were so angry.

But then the Fig girl, the tiefling from the other day piped up. she might be enrolled in the bard class, she might even be a bard, but you can tell she's a barbarian at heart. There's a fire in her, not just in her blood, and it was pure poetry that came out of her mouth when she talked about rage. You almost shed a tear. You were a bit let down when you learned it wasn't her that finished off Doreen, but it will be worth it to have her in your class regardless now.

The worst part of Arthur dying is Kalvaxus is the new acting principal, kind of. He doesn't actually have that much power since he's still the vice principal, but he acts like he's in charge. The new video crystals that the faculty has to review every day or so so and it's your turn now.

You hate reviewing the crystal footage, sure Watches and Wards might not be in the library, but who would be foolish enough to attack a school of adventurers right after their principal and other faculty was killed. It might seem like a good time for idiots, but it actually meant the school was on high alert.

You also hated the AV club, especially that Biz. He thinks he's some sort of stud and the gods gift to women. You want to turn the little bastard into mulch the second he said two words to you, but you have to maintain the teacher persona for awhile. Arthur might be dead, but you are no closer to the name so the plan is stalled for a bit unfortunately enough.

It was boring reviewing the footage, kids doing dumb kid things, yougot enough of that in class. that is until you reviewed the AV club footage that you find something interesting. Fig and Gorbag's adventuring party they formed with the other detention kids shows up there. They're still only first years but they seem more competent than any first years you meet. Arianwen's daughter..., Balewyn is there clearly being a key part in the investigation. But Biz doesn't care enough about that, just about the pretty girl who waltzed into his lair.

Your blood boils. You don't care about the girl at all, you don't even know her name other than Abernant, but you might not be a bad guy, there are some rules you should follow if you're going to call yourself an adventurer. There's something called professional courtesy. Sure adventurers fell in love all the time, but that doesn't mean you hit on everyone you find attractive. That's just creepy and annoying. regardless if they are students, they are at the adventuring academy and trying to solve a mystery, that means the Abernant girl, no matter how pretty she is, Biz should have respected her as a fellow student at the very least or a fellow adventurer.

But you actually laugh at the way the wizard girl dresses down Biz. She calls him on his shit and dresses him down on the way he talked to her and her friend Gorbag without any mercy. It was a thing of Beauty. It's strange for you to applaud a sharp Abernant tongue, but you do all the same. She didn't look scared now, she looked righteous. Not quite the same as rage, but when she talked was so sure and right, you're not even sure you're looking at the same girl as the other day.

Unfortunately that was it, but it actually seemed to make Biz think, even if you could tell it wouldn't last. They all rush off after seeing something in the monitors, but you're done for the day so you don't care. Still, between that Fig girl and this Abernant daughter, there's prospects to the plan that you never thought of

Part 1

[securitybreach]

hellooooo what are ur favourite frostiron fics? i’ve exhausted most of my favourite tropes and i’m looking into new tropes to obsess over if u have any recs? tysm! :)

Hi emeraldfrostraven,

thank you very much for your message! This turned out harder than I thought (please excuse me for making you wait) because there are so many talented writers in the frostiron fandom. So this is a very short list but I enjoyed every single one of those stories and I hope that you might enjoy them too. There were a few other fics I would have liked to share but they're locked and I decided to respect the authors' decision.

Thank you again for sending this ask. I hope there are a few fics on my list you don't know already (that's why I decided to pick some older stories). I'm wishing you tons of fun!

Everything by the very wonderful @fullofleaves, whose glorious fic Are You There, God of Mischief? It's Me, Tony (Explicit, 2013) was the first frostiron fic I ever read.

Let's Go Get Lost by hypnotically: Loki doesn't want to be here. Tony doesn't know how he got here. They probably should have taken the jet. (Teen And Up Audiences, 2013)

Bostock by hannahrhen: Tony sets out a lure with almonds and powdered sugar. (General Audiences, 2014)

of Trust and Necessity by @roseapprentice: A story of card games and dubious claims. After five years, Loki finally escapes Thanos's pack. And immediately gets all snared up in a new one. (Mature, 2014)

Those Sinned Against by Arkada: When Asgard invades Earth - led by a huge blond man in a red cape and wielding a massive warhammer - it takes six months for Tony Stark to come up with a plan to turn things around: let himself be taken prisoner, and bring the Asgardians down from the inside. But it takes less than an hour for the plan to get away from him, thanks to the black-haired Asgardian prince who takes personal - very personal - charge of him. (Explicit, 2014 - 2015)

Taking the Fall by @usedupshiver: Everyone expects Tony to end up eaten alive sooner rather than later when he is put in the same cell as the Lyesmith, a man so dangerous even the members of his former gang are afraid to come after him. But sometimes it might actually be wise to just grin in the face of danger. (Mature, 2015)

A Matter Of Inertia by @roseapprentice: There was a tall, lanky omega getting into his car, holding an especially shiny-looking switchblade pointed in Tony’s general direction.Tony was fairly sure he’d had more than one wet dream in his life that started about like this, and the thought distracted him until the passenger door slammed shut and the omega snarled, “Drive!” with deadly ferocity.Yikes. Tony turned his wheel to steer away from the barrier and stepped on the gas.In which Tony makes a lot of bad decisions, and regrets none of them. (Mature, 2015)

Project Snowflake by @usedupshiver: When Howard Stark met his untimely death he left behind a secret project no-one ever knew about. (Teen And Up Audiences, 2015)

Did You Do Something With Your Hair? by STARSdidathing: Loki cuts his hair and Tony is extremely fascinated, almost to the point of obsession. Honestly, Tony's just trying to ignore this wonderful new problem. (Teen And Up Audiences, 2016)

From Anonymous by STARSdidathing: When Tony was caught in a lab explosion three years ago, he was lucky to walk away with his life. He gained a lot of injuries and retreated from the world. He now lives in seclusion in an apartment complex he owns, but his retreat doesn't stop him from noticing his neighbour or developing a crush on the handsome man. (Teen And Up Audiences, 2019)

Clockwork by @amidnight--dreary: When Loki's suppressants fail, he registers to be paired with a companion during his next rut. It's a lot easier than finding an actual mate, which he's already given up on, anyway. He doesn't expect much to come of it except the very-much needed relief and a few days of casual fun. He certainly doesn't expect to fall in love, but it just kinda happens, anyway. (Explicit, 2022)

(This list is also my contribution to the @frostironflashbingo May to August 2024, Card 1: Free Space)

[ghostinthegallery]

As a transformers fan I love robots who have divorce drama stretching millions of years but also have a body count in the trillions. Thus it has taken little convincing but I think I shall investigate these undead robots.

In the event of my death I'm Telling. This is your fault. How do I start wading into this mess bc my only encounter with Warhammer was when a very drunk frat guy tried to explain the horus heresy at a party.

Well you are in for a treat then! Robots with marriage/divorce drama, severe mental health issues, and body counts best measured on a planetary scale are our specialty in Chez Necron.

If you want a setting overview before you dive in, Bricky's two part series going over all the factions is quite solid. Long, but hey this has been around since the 80s. (no drunken Horus Heresy rambles*)

First, watch this clip of Trazyn the Infinite, as an amuse bouche before your meal.

As for books, there are two main places I'd start for necrons:

The Infinite and the Divine- the classic starting point for necrons (and 40k in general). Trazyn the Infinite, lord of the Prismatic Galleries, battles against Orikan the Diviner, master chronomancer and prophet. Clash of godlike beings over...what amounts to a magic Rubik's Cube. It's so petty. This fight spans epochs, multiple wars, and one legal case. There's no heterosexual explanation for their dynamic. Also this book has dinosaurs. Some of whom carry shuriken canons.

Now, this book has a ton of 40k stuff. Most major factions make an appearance so there's a very good chance there will be words/things that a new person is unfamiliar with. If that doesn't bother you, awesome! Proceed. Ask me things, I'll explain that an aeldar is just a space elf or whatever. Or watch a lore vid beforehand. However if that is a turn off I'd recommend starting with...

Severed- Novella, so shorter which is nice. Do you like angst? The horrors of immortality? Lord/knight love story? One very silly guy? Then meet Zahndrekh and his loyal bodyguard Obyron as they set out to conquer a planet where the necrons are...wrong. Complicating factors include Obyron's crippling depression, Zahndrekh's asshole ex, and the fact Zahndrekh is insane and believes them all to still be the creatures of flesh and blood they were before a bunch of star gods ate their souls and turned them into robots. Prepare to cry.

After those, I cannot recommend the Twice Dead King duology highly enough. Oltyx, an exiled prince attempts to save his dynasty from destruction while battling his own creeping madness. He's got an adorable crush on his hot best friend. The voices in his head were put there on purpose so its fine. Well most of them were. Everything is fine. I didn't cry multiple times reading these...

Then refer to my reading guide for the good short stories and boom! The wonderful world of gay undead space robots is open before you.

I accept full responsibilities for my actions. If you die I promise to say mostly nice things at your funeral.

*mini rant, but I honestly think the Horus Heresy is one of the worst ways to introduce someone to the 40k world. It's a series with like 70 books! Many of them are bad! You need a flowchart to keep track of the timeline! I know there's some good books and characters, power to all who love the HH, but it is not newbie friendly! Also it only has humans which robs you of some of the best parts of the setting (like...y'know. Necrons). Ease people in, then they can make an informed decision about tackling the mountain of buff space men with daddy issues shooting each other.

[yodomi-nikki]

Why are Nurgle followers happy? When do they despair?

I was thinking about this interesting topic that was presented somewhere. There are still many materials to read, so if there are any books on this topic that I should refer to, please let me know…

When we think about why Nurgle worshippers remain happy, become depressed or despair, or break up, we first consider the reason for the happiness they feel. It is the love that Nurgle gives them. That love is to help them survive in a miserable state while remaining miserable. Of course, death is the end of the agreement between mortals, but where other Chaos Gods would declare the game over, Nurgle gives them a blessing, saying, "You can still do it." You asked for salvation, but you turned into a filthy zombie! It's not a tragedy! Becoming a filthy zombie is a blessing, and it's the beginning of a fulfilling daily life.

For example, in an arcade game, if you lose, you have to give up your seat and go outside, but in home games, no matter how inexperienced you are, how badly you play, and how boring it is, you can continue as long as you have the will. Nurgle lets you play single-player mode on a home console endlessly. Regardless of your skill level, as long as your worshipper plays it wholeheartedly, Father will be happy to watch. The followers are happy when surrounded by friends who have more to do with fun than with training and discipline, and receive the warmth of family.

The followers will be troubled, disappointed, or despair when they accidentally see someone else's replay or score. They will want to deny the time they spent as a casual player, considering their own skills, interpretation, and the appearance of their avatar. The followers who are confident that they are playing in their own way under Father will not despair. Typhus is an example of this. The Death Guard can bring their own controllers to play against each other, and Mortarion's guidance also intervenes, so the tragic part when they come to their senses is emphasized. He is a leader, but he is not a father who presents new values ​​and encourages them to become familiar with them.

Because of the results of his love, it is often said that Nurgle is "abuse disguised as love, and everything is a lie." However, Father innovates the true interpretation of lies by teaching that rotting corpses are the cradle of new life. If you become a living being because of Father's love, can you call it a lie? Still, life in the Warhammer world is tenacious, so it's inevitable that he'll come to his senses even after doing all that.

Things to consider from now on:

The treatment of the plaguebearers, who are thought to be the most common and low-ranking in Nurgle's Garden, where will they end up? Will they be left behind from that sense of time and continuity? I'll look for testimony.

I thought the analogy worked well. Kugath is worried about erasing his father's data! But looking back on one's environment in terms of skill and weakness at the game may make it seem like Nurgle is a group of only tanks who are bad at fighting, so a follow-up may be needed.

Is it like being surprised at how different your island is from other people's in Animal Crossing?

[yandere-fics]

*you (Somehow) kill Veronia and escape to the outside world

*you're soon brought to a nearby kingdom, news of what you've done gets around

*you're hailed as a hero, a dragon slayer, basically become a celebrity for what it's worth

*months later you're staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, you feel like something is wrong, very very wrong.

*you start to smell smoke, and you hear the flapping of wings in the distance, getting closer, and closer, followed by a very familiar roar

"Oh shit."

-girlfailure anon

♡ You Kill Veronia But She Comes Back ♡

(I've basically decided it's canon that after slaying a dragon you get a mark on your body just because I really think it would torture Elisha anyways Elisha's look like the stigmata however I decided reader's will be in their eyes. This got very off track but I loved writing a lot and I like the direction it took.)

♡ You kept your head low, never looking back, never trying to call attention to yourself or the marking that appeared in your eyes the moment you hit her with the warhammer, you really hadn't expected it to work, sure it was a dragon slaying warhammer however she wasn't average and beyond that you didn't really want it to work, sure you felt as though you had to try to escape her once but you really thought it would just be one earnest attempt and then she'd laugh angrily and force you to cuddle for weeks and you'd be able to give in knowing you'd at least done everything you could. ♡

♡ You hated going to markets, no one had recognized the symbol in your eye but soon they would and you wouldn't be allowed to return to her cave anymore, why would you want to return to the monsters den, they wouldn't understand how you slept there hoping Veronia's body would somehow rise again, like she was just hibernating except you'd checked her pulse and every herb you bought from the market that was supposed to heal mystical beast failed. ♡

You made a mistake, the merchant had seen your eyes, had seen the mark and had clearly recognized there was a hero in their mix. You darted down an alley but it wouldn't be long before they closed in on you, before you lost your freedom, would be forbidden from sleeping next to the grave site of your former lover ever again. You prayed Veronia would rise from her grave sensing your distress and take you back and then you'd never have to make another stupid market trip again, she would provide for you again and you'd throw yourself at her feet in apology. For now however you could only sit in the alley as the villagers continued to search for their hero.

♡ You can picture her grave in your dreams, you wake up sticking your hand out towards it and the maids around you jump, they say the hero went crazy after the torment the dragon put them through in the epic battle, they don't know her but it's hard to brush aside the comments. The crazy rumors don't bother you, you are going crazy, they ripped you away from the grave you needed to tend to desperately, they robbed you of the chance to be there when your Vero returned, there was no way she was dead, it just couldn't happen. If she were truly dead you wouldn't be here but if you're being honest with yourself you might as well be dead being so far from her. ♡

♡ You've gotten better at pretending to be what they want you to be at galas, you'll never escape and be able to flee to her grave if they think you're crazy, you need to be strong for her sake but it feels difficult when they ask about the claws you wear around your neck, a presumed trophy from your legendary kill, they'll never know it's a cherish token from a lover you've lost. They don't need to know, only you and her need to know the truth, too bad she isn't here to share in your secret. ♡

He reaches for the claws around your neck marvelling at them before jumping in surprise when you shove him down and away from you. For all the harm this has caused, you've learned to defend yourself in Veronia's absence, though you're constantly reminded you're not as strong as she was, if she were here this bastard would have been pushed into the marble flooring. If she were here she'd burn them all and you could dance together on their ashes.

"I'm sorry miss hero, I was just wondering if you might sell one of them, they would be a precious commodity-" He whimpers and pisses his pants as you unsheathe your sword, the same eyes he was just praising for being a beacon of peace boring into him as if you wanted to slice him into a million tiny pieces, that would only remind you that you can't cut as precise as her and thus you put your sword back, deciding to withdraw from the party, everyone chattering about how intense the fight must have been in order to cause this.

♡ You try not to remember her name anymore, everyone knows herr as the evil dragon, when you say her name they immediately forget anything you said and thus it's pointless to correct them on her being an evil dragon. You call her V if you must ever refer to her out loud, you never let them know V refers to the dragon they all praise you for slaughtering, you tell them V was your lover, you tell them you couldn't save her, it's true you couldn't save her from your own stupid cruelty. ♡

♡ You have one friend, they don't really understand but it helps the pain of knowing your lover will never return, even if she came back you know she would not come for you, not for someone who betrayed her when her back was turned with something she'd brought for you simply because it looked pretty trusting you to never use it for it's intended purpose, someone backed away as she wheezed, who left as she drew her last breaths for you to stay by her side, someone who didn't stay and tend her grave. ♡

"V was stronger than me, she should still be alive, I'm the one who should have died in that cave." You friend pats you on the back, it doesn't help any, you wish she had been unaffected by the hammer, you wish instead of ignoring you and refusing to return to life despite your pleas she would have returned and killed you with her bare hands for your betrayal. You wait for her to kill you as you sleep and are at your most vulnerable, she never does. She haunts your dreams pleading for you to return to her cave, the one she made perfect for you, you never do.

Your friend will never understand.

♡ You are alone, you snapped at your friend when they called her the evil dragon, they couldn't understand why you were defending a creature who killed your dearest lover, you wish they would die, they don't know better. Everyone calls for your beloved lovers gravesite to be found and destroyed so you can finally recover from the pain haunting you, you decide they should all die and they do. ♡

♡ You wander the woods hoping you'll know which direction is your lovers grave, you're drawing near you can tell based on how loudly your head pounds as you draw near, your heart racing to finally be so close again and you allow yourself to lay down and rest knowing you will be reunited with her soon. You pray she forgives you for leaving her for half a year. ♡

The smell of her smoke brings tears to your eyes in your sleep, you think she has finally come to kill you for leaving, she hasn't. You open your eyes to her covering you in one of your old favorite furs, she looks terrible having been dead for a year, you don't care as you kiss her and plead with her to never scare you like this again.

"I take it you didn't enjoy your little break then." She teases and you sob as you finally get to see her smile again, the same small smile of forgiveness she gave you when she died clutching your ankle.

♡ For the first time in a year you feel alive. ♡

[zmasters]

A Dance with Death, a Warhammer Short

Based on the results of the following series of polls

A shadow blitz through the streets of a city. A multicolored blur bouncing from hab block corner to back alley without so much of a stumble or stop for breath. For the odd ganger or beggar on the quiet streets during the dead of this smoggy night, all they witness is a sudden breeze that at most catches them off guard for the nanosecond it blows past their ears. All unaware of the hand of death that just barely graced their pale skin.

The masked figure stifled a cough. He wasn’t used to the dank land that the monkeigh called “Hive Naraka-Beta.” Only such barbaric people would willingly settle a world inhabitable to their very being, and only such a stupid race would call the megacities of the world A, B, C, and so on.

“Almost there, Caerdor.” The assassin whispered to himself, the curved blade of his shrieker cannon cleaning cut a knick into a metal wall as he passed another alley.

A flash of blonde appeared in front of the leaping shadow. The target. With one crack and a quiet chuckle, a woman’s body collapsed to the ground, her head vanishing with a black and pink blur.

Caerdor landed on a nearby rooftop with a grace only an aeldari harlequin could perform. “You Chaos fools always make this simple enough” He sighed, his grinning face hidden by his Agaith false-face.

Gripping the severed head by her hair, he raised the target's dead, red eyes to his mask’s visor. The left side of his mask held the image of a fleshy-pink skull.

After a few seconds of a silent staring contest, Caerdor tossed the head over the edge of the building. “Bloody body doubles.”

High above the crime filled city, two women overlooked a gang shoot out from an air-locked balcony. Both pale, one a brunette, the other blonde.

��I feel so much restraint being forced to watch the violence of my city from here.” The brunette sighed as she twirled a knife between her fingers. Her white dress was bare and boring for someone of her standing, the only decoration being a few dull red stains scattered around the dress.

“Well, Lady Idris Brele, if you help my organization, you can be the one down there.”

“Your little club sounds too good to be true, Mari.”

Mari chuckled. “No salesman would tell a potential buyer the cons of their products out the gate. But I’m not a salesman. I’ll tell you everything you need to know about my organization and our current plans, both the good and the bad. If you don’t like it, I will leave and we can both pretend this meeting never happened. If you are interested, we can continue our discussion at my place. Sounds like a deal?” She stuck out her hand.

Idris took a second to think about it shortly before taking Mari’s hand. “Deal.”

On a rooftop over, a green glint focused on the blond target. “Just one more second.”

“Khiladi.” A familiar voice interrupted the sniper’s work as a gun barrel was placed against her copper skull.

“Caerdor.” She laughed. “How’s my favorite clown doing?”

The titular clown responded by slamming his boot into the back of Khiladi’s head, her still, copper face smashing into the concrete roof with a crack. “Why are you here, deathmark?”

“Same reason you’re here, death jester.” The necron groaned, turning her head to face the eldar. “Killing a chaos champion.”

Caerdor glanced in the direction Khiladi was aiming her rifle at. “Why didn’t you shoot her then?”

“I was checking to see if she was a body double or not, leaf lover boy. Something you weren’t doing.”

“So what, they’re all chaos followers. And I’m no longer an exodite.”

“It doesn’t matter if you trade out the dragon cloak for a clown mask, your old uniform made your ass look perfect.” Khiladi laughed.

Caerdor's mask hid his blushing.

“As for holding my shot,” she continued, “your mindless slaughtering has only alerted the cult that someone wants the boss dead.”

“Who cares? Only weak cowards use body doubles, I doubt whatever warriors they have will stop me.”

“Unlike you,” Khiladi sat up, “I’ve been paying attention to what these cultists are doing. We’re dealing with the Disciples of the First Prince, mortals and neverborn of all four marks fighting side-by-side in unison. And the target isn’t using body doubles because she’s scared of death. The one they call Bloodfly is everywhere, pulling hundreds of strings all at once. Sure, if you kill enough pale blondes, you’ll get her. But they’ve adapted with every head lost. If anything, thigh highs, the only thing you managed to do is make my job harder!”

“Good!”

“At least you’re hot.”

“By Cegorach, why do I have the only necron with a sex drive following me around?”

“You know you love it.” Khiladi’s still face produced a giggle-like sound.

Caerdor sighed, silently thanking the gods that he was wearing a mask.

“Now, unless you want to have fun right now, please get off me so I can get back to work.” The necron’s one green eye focused on a red glint that sparked on a rooftop behind the clown.

“First tell me how you’re telling these monkeigh apart.”

Khiladi shoved Caerdor off of her. “In a minute!” She shouted before vanishing.

As Caerdor collapsed to the ground, cursing the deathmark’s name, he watched a solid red beam fly pass him. The beam barely missed, breaking a clean hole through the lip of the building’s roof. He caught his footing, sprinting behind the roof access for cover. Khiladi reappeared right next to him.

“Told you were making a mess of things!”

“By Khaine what was that?”

“It was a human weapon called a lascannon! I knew you were going to attract assassins, but a bloody anti-tank weapon?”

Caerdor poked his head around the wall, before ducking back as another red streak flew past.

Three eyes followed the red blast, the beam streaking past the skyscraper that the body double was in. Khiladi got a ding in her mind, a confirmation that the so-called double wasn’t a double. Her vision zoomed in, right onto the woman’s grinning face.

“I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Distract them!”

“Wait what?” Caerdor tried to stop Khiladi, but she was already gone, and he was instead greeted by a third lascannon shot.

A lone astartes adjusted his aim. The large cannon, heavy even by space marine standards, sat awkwardly on his teal shoulder pauldron, the wiring connecting directly into his shadow-black helmet replacing any need for a scope. A husky voice relays through his vox, confirming that the target is still behind the entrance to the building, but that his accomplice has vanished. One eye focused on the auspex, confirming that he was the only one on the rooftop of the tower he stood on. The second adjusted the aim of his lascannon.

The marine silently questioned why he was ordered to use a lascannon specifically. It was a powerful weapon, certainly able to kill an eldar in a single shot, but it’s not an appropriate weapon. The xeno race was fast, never seemingly able to hold still for a second. A single-shot, low fire rate weapon was not a good weapon to take out such a quick bugger.

He caught a glimpse of the clown’s mask as he poked his head around the corner, before ducking back. The xeno was testing, measuring shots to figure out his location. Clever. All he had to do was hold his shot until he could hundred percent confirm a hit. Slaanesh will feed well tonight.

The auspex flashed a dot on the scanner. There was a second being on the roof with the space marine. He turned, and was met with the glowing green of a synaptic disintegrator.

Caerdor jumped as Khiladi reappeared next to him, heaving an ash covered shoulder-mounted cannon.

“Good distraction.”

“What are you doing?”

“Killing our target.”

The coils of the cannon glowed red, before sending a beam of red light straight towards the grinning target, the cannon itself flying out of Khiladi’s hands.

The beam hit on target, the resulting blast sending red hot glass shards and rebar falling to the city below, likely landing on some unlucky plebs.

As the dust settled, the two xeno assassins were able to make out the woman, now missing the right side of her torso and arm, collapse to the floor.

“Mission accomplished.” Khiladi giggled.

“But I didn’t kill her.” Caerdor pouted.

“Dead is dead. You got the kill last time.”

“Why do we always get the same target?”

“Maybe someone above us finds this funny, clown boy toy.”

Caerdor was about to shoot back at the necron, but was interrupted by the sound of cracking and buzzing.

The target was slowly approaching the death jester and deathmark, a pair of crimson insect wings letting her fly over the gap between the skyscrapers. Moss and vines curled over her wounds, slowly stitching her body back together.

“Grandfather Nurgle finds your plight hilarious.” She laughed. “Though Prince Be'lakor finds you two annoying.”

Both assassins opened fire on the flying chaos lord. Shrieker cannon rounds and synaptic disintegrator blasts filled the air of where she was, but for a diseased corpse with wings she was fast.

With a heavy thud, the winged woman landed directly on top of Khiladi. With a clawed talon wrapping around her throat, her head was slammed into the roof, a crack forming in both the concrete and the metal skull.

Caerdor swung the bladed end of his cannon, the lord catching the blade in her hand.

“Thank you for aiding my plans.” She growled, ripping the cannon out of Caerdor’s hand. “There’s a supernatural serial killer in Naraka-Beta, and more and more people are looking for someone to protect them.”

“How many body doubles have you killed?” Khiladi asked.

Caerdor threw a punch, which was caught in the beast’s other talon.

“Since landing on Naraka three days ago, your pointy-eared friend has killed fifty two of my non-mutated kin.” The beast grinned. “Thirty six were female and only seventeen even resembled by disguise.”

Caerdor felt the green orb Khiladi called an eye glare at him. “They’re Chaos cultists.”

“Only twenty-five are tied to my cult.”

“It’s good that you’re hot.” Khiladi groaned, her voice muffled by the clawed foot covering her mouth.

“Oh, so now you care about monkeigh?”

“I just know how to be subtle, and everyone I killed is tied to the cult.” 

The necron was silenced by the talon gripping her skull and slamming it into the concrete roof again. Following suit was the aeldari being thrown down next to her, the lord’s free talon quickly wrapping around his throat. 

Two pairs of arms tried to fight off the dark wood talons with little success. Caerdor struggled to breath in the iron grip while Khiladi was blinded from the talon pushing into her ocular unit.

“As much as I want to KILL you two right now, and I want to kill you soooo badly~ That! Fucking! Hurt!” She slammed Khiladi’s skull with each word. “Buuuut I have some ideas~ Some lovely, torturous, ideas.”

Caerdor struggled to breath. His sore, oxygen deprived arm collapsed from numbness as vision faded, bumping into the now-still body of the assassin he’s cursed to somehow always run into. Somehow, ever since he was an exodite and into his joining of the Masque of the Reaper’s Mirth, this flirty, Ogdobekh deathmark has followed him, fate always putting them into a position where killing each other is the dumb move. Thousands of orks, space marines, daemons, and tryanids have fallen to their hands in the past centuries, and he would be lying if he said he’s happy to see this member of his race’s eternal rival die.

As his vision faded to black, a memory flooded his mind. A shirtless Caerdor sat hunched over, the corpses of orks surrounding him.

“Ow! Watch it!”

“I lost my skin before your species touched the stars.” Khiladi sighed, her skeletal fingers carefully using a needle to stitch a wound on Caerdor’s back. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“I know.”

The two sat in silence, the only sound between the two being the whirling of Khiladi’s servos and the dripping of Caerdor’s blood.

“Necron.” Caerdor broke the silence.

“Thigh-highs.” Khiladi answered.

“Why did you do this?”

“What? Saving your life or fixing your wounds?”

“Both. You could’ve left me for dead or finished me off, but you helped me.”

Khiladi was silent.

“You don’t know why, do you?”

“My overlord hasn’t ordered your death, so I have no reason to kill you.”

“We’ve been running into each other for centuries, and we’ve always been put into situations where we are fighting the same enemy. Today is the first time where you could easily walk away and just leave me bleeding out with a knife in my back.”

“I wouldn’t call the hunk of metal that was sticking out of your spine a knife.”

“I’m serious!”

“I don’t know. Maybe I just like you.”

“It can’t be that simple!” Caerdor turned to face Khiladi, who just finished stitching the wound.

“It could be!” She defended. “You know how hard it is to have friends as a necron assassin! The only person in my entire species I can talk to is my Overlord! It’s like if the only other eldar you can have a conversation with is that damned clown you call a god!”

“Is that why you helped me? You consider me to be a f-friend?”

Khiladi produced a sighing noise and laid down in the grass. “My flesh, blood, and soul was taken to fight a war that only worsened the galaxy and everyone involved. My sole purpose is to be the unquestioning assassin for a noble who’s sanity is barely holding on by a thread and rules a nation of mindless automata. If having a conversation every once in a while with a thin waist flesh bag like you is the only thing keeping me sane, then I don’t care.”

“So… What would happen if your overlord ordered my death?”

“They're unlikely to put out a hit for a sole death jester, but…”

“There’s nothing you can do?”

Khiladi was quiet. Caerdor knew she would be crying if she physically could.

He laid down next to her. “Let’s make a promise. The only way for one of us to die is by the other’s hand.”

“How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“If either of us are in danger, the other has to save them. The only way for either of us to die a true death is from the other.”

Khiladi giggled. “Ok. Caerdor of the Masque of the Reaper’s Mirth, by the Nightbringer I will be the one to kill you.”

Caerdor grinned. “Khiladi of the Ogdobekh Dynasty, I swear to Cegorach and Isha that I will be the one to kill you.”

His eyes snapped open, his mind returning to the present. The clawed talons of the winged chaos lord were slowly tearing into his throat. With the last of strength, his fingertips felt something. A rifle. Khiladi’s disintegrator.

Blinded from a lack of oxygen, he grabbed the rifle and fired.

The talon released his throat, the chaos beast collapsing with a screech of pain. Caerdor had shot the leg that gripped Khiladi’s head, the plant limb slowly crumbling to ash, struggling to regrow from the burnt stump.

Lightheaded, Caerdor struggled to his feet. With each heavy step, he fired another synaptic blasting into the mutant, its flesh melting into a pile of ash. With each shot, the creature roared with deafening screeches, pleading to dark powers to save her. A shot to the mouth silenced her, blasting the headless corpse over the edge of the building, only to rain ash on whatever's down there.

“Ni-ce s-shot.” Khiladi stuttered, her necrodermis slowly repairing her damaged skull.

“Thanks.” Caerdor huffed, collapsing to the floor.

“What do you think of my prototype, Lord Iska?” A chitinous creature hissed as she perched on a nearby spire top, a pair of crimson wings buzzing with each word.

“A fine specimen, Vera.” A second creature with crimson wings hissed back, this one wearing a suit of black armor with silver trim, though his shoulder pads bore a teal that matched the color of his partner’s chitin. The glowing green eyes of the tusked helm met with the glowing green of his partner’s horned mask. “Though I am not a fan of her zealotry to Nurglith.”

“It’s difficult to create daemonkin who aren’t zealots. It doesn’t help that we had to stuff a rot fly to where her soul used to be to get functioning wings.”

“It’s a prototype, it’ll take time to perfect it.”

“May I suggest a base creature other than human?”

“Like eldar?”

“There’s one right there.”

“Not yet. I suggest we lie in wait, make the xenos think you’re dead. Once enough time has passed, we strike a loan patrol or maiden world, or barter with the drukari.”

“Prince Be’lakor won’t be happy that we have to leave.”

“Invasion can still happen with or without us, and I think our Master can convince him to look the other way.”

[relax-and-read-on]

2024, Hello!

What a year it has been, right?

I usually try to talk only about warhammer 40k on this blog. I don't like mention if my personal life, or politics, or even other fandom, really. That said, this year was... Far from easy for me. Health problem, job problem, finances, politiques, (shout out to all the queer french canadian who are also scared shitless!), moving in a new place, insane inflation....

I had given myself the huge objective to publish 200k words for 2023. At the end, this is the result:

108k words. You can also add about 50k of unpublished original work. Here is the list of fic that I have published/updated in 2023 (by view count), and some little thought/insight on them:

Agency - My big fem primarch au. You can really see me grow, if you read it from start to finish. It's been *years* since I started this fic, at this point, the ending that I have planned is like my white whale. One day.... One day, I will defeat it. Terribly hard to write but SO satisfying

Tales of different lives - if Agency is my dark nemesis, than my planet swap is coming home to a soft bed. It's so easy and FUN to write that au. I know not everyone like the lighter take toward the world this one take, and that's ok. Sometime... It's just nice, to have softer things, especially after such a year.

Phantom of the (warhammer?)-pera - I am begging you. On my knees. Read this one. It's my fav thing I have ever written. It's so much fun. It's totally INSANE and I loved every moment of it. I want to go back and fight the formatting again, to finish implanting all the notes. They are SO much fun. Also has AMAZING cover art by @skrankku !

Five times People tried and failed to Seduce Roboute Guilliman to Chaos... - Absolute surprised to me how people loved that fic. Ngl, I was actually sick/very depressed when I wrote it, but it warm heart that other enjoyed it.

This Once Nearly Was Mine - This one does not count, it's @kingwithpaintedfingers AMAZING Vulkan's POV to Castle of Glass, my Mortarion/Vulkan soulmate au. I am amazed and humbled to be able to work with such a great writer, and be able to call you a friend. I HIGHLY recommend all their work.

Trust - I had to actually check that one, and turns out, it was the update to my Talos/Septimus fic! Can you believe that I forget my own fic?! I am silly. Surprisingly delightful. I need to write more of this ship.

Birdcage - written for an exchange, specifically for @funboxsupreme , another criminally good writer. This fic, in my humble opinion, is some of my best writing. Extremely dark, I also SOMEHOW managed some really cool "special effect" in it, and I am PLEASED with myself.

In the Garden - a VERY quick and horny piece for Nan, a PROLIFIC writer whom I cannot help but be in awe of (also heeeelp I don't have your tumblr, poke me and I will tag you!)

Old Crows and Young Cardinals - This is an interesting one! This fic seem barely started, but it's mostly because the rest of it require MASSIVE planning and careful writing, as it deal with time travel and has a stupidly complex plot. I cannot wait to unveil more of it.

By proxy - hehehe, another really cool gift for a friend, this time for Lieara/Allyria! Even if this list is making me realise how many of yall tumblrs I don't know. I feel like an Old man trying to remember phone number lmao.

Day 2 - Bootworship and Sister of battle - a fun little fic part of the "40 kink for 40k" challenge that I NEED to continue, started by the wonderful @iapetusneume . Also.... Lesbian. Need more Lesbian.

The only way - A other fic that I had completely forgotten that I wrote. It's such a strange feeling, to reread your own words and go "I did this??" It's not bad, but it was written during one of those hard period of the year, and as such feel extra alien to me.

Day 1 - Geneseed, but sexy and Homeworld - another 40k for 40 kink fic, this one was a LOT of fun to write! Amd kinda specifically made for @bobthebobhere , another good friend in this fandom!

The miracle of science (and children) - a gift fic that was supose to be part of an exchange, but took too long! This one is for @shootertron-stuff , an artist that I highly respect and love! If you like it kinky, go tead their stuff, they are an inspiration.

In the Lion's Den. - Hahahahahaha lmao. So, fun fact: On reddit, there is a user who post horribly misogynist/homophobic Tau torture porn with his OC chapter. I got mad, and wrote a spit gay porn fic of his OCs. To his credit, he rolled with it and was amused at it. I still don't like him, and never will, but I have his blessing to keep it up, so!

The Bird, The Wolf and the Keeper - a little experiment, in poetry format fic. I liked it well enough, and will attempt some more in 2024 I think :)

(A secret fic exchange, yet to be revealed)

(another one!)

So.... 18 fics total. I think there should be pride in that. I like the variety of them, even if I want to push out more, do more unique and stranger fic, for 2024. It was a difficult year, but creating so much made it easier, made it more worth it. I am... Happy, with it all.

If you have questions about my fics, now is the time! Otherwise, I will see you soon, with more writing, and more joy in sharing.

I wish you all a wonderful year 2024, better than the last, safety, comfort, and peace. May we all had fun in this fandom!

[alpaca-clouds]

Arcanepunk is a strange Genre

I am trying to talk more about the punk genre. I am trying.

So, let me talk about another punk genre, that is a rather strange example of the punkpunk genre. Because it is one of the rather small genres of the genre group, but the examples that exist are surprisingly strong.

Arcanepunk in general refers to a story or aesthetic, that involves both magical and technological elements. Often times we see it as a world that has some steampunk-y or teslapunk-y technology, but also uses some sort of magic. Though definitionwise there is no reason why it could not be in even higher developed. Shadowrun, which mixes Cyberpunk with magic, is often also considered as Arcanepunk.

One of the reasons that Arcanepunk can be considered rather big, for the fact that it is one of the lesser known subgenre under the punkpunk umbrella, is, that it has some entries that are rather big.

Most notably, of course, there is League of Legends, which very firmly falls into the Arcanepunk setting, and with that all media that comes out of the LoL franchise. Including - yeah, it is on the nose - Arcane.

Other big examples are the aforementioned Shadowrun, arguably some of the Warcraft lore, Warhammer, and also Pratchett's Discworld.

The irony is that for a genre that has some really big franchises tied to it, there is a lot less of other stories within the genre - and the term is just rather unknown, leading also to the fact that there is a lot less of smaller novels and comics that really lean into the genre.

Of course there is also the fact that Arcanepunk once more is not always that strong on the punk aspect.

Let me talk about League of Legends, because frankly: Out of all the big Arcanepunk examples, LoL and Shadowrun are the ones I am most familiar with.

Now, those who mostly know Arcane might actually think that it is fairly strong on the punk aspect. After all Arcane very much places an emphasis on how unjust the system of Piltover and Zaun is. While one could argue that the characters most rising up against the system are the villains, it still does show there is a need to rise up against it. And the council of Piltover is most certainly not depicted in a sympathetic light.

However, if you look at League of Legends, the lore is often a lot more... complicated. Because League of Legends has the issue of "there is no real main character". For the most part they want players feel good about playing any of the champions, but given that some of those champions are colonizers, if not just outright fascists. But again, you can play them. So they all need to be main characters of sorts. Hence: The overall narrative cannot go and say: "Actually, this is super bad and we should focus on the rebellion against it." Which would actually put more punk into the story.

It really makes me wonder, how Riot plans to deal with this going forward, given that they decided that Arcane is now part of the main canon - but I digress.

You can see a similar thing (from what I know) in Warcraft and Warhammer. Due to all the factions being equally playable, a lot of the associated media tends to be held back onto picking sides - even though it is bitterly necessary.

And Shadowrun... Oh, well. Shadowrun is another issue entirely. One that I will talk about seperately. Some day. Not today.

Well, at least there is still the Discworld series. Because those are very much on the punk side of things. After all, more than anything Pratchett was simply based.

[undyingembers]

OC Kiss Week - Victoire & Siavash

An OC Kiss Week entry featuring my Rogue Trader Victoire and @dujour13's Siavash. Thank you for letting me do this to him. This was fun.

There are some content tags for this one. Warhammer 40K is very grimdark, and Victoire is...not a nice person. I'm grateful for Dujour for letting me do this to her charcter.

cw: torture mention; shooting mention

Even hours after she put down the little insurrection on Dargonus, Victoire still smelled of blood and gunpowder. Her principal colony was used to a little unrest now and then—people wanting free time, increased pay, and, Emperor forbid, limited working hours. This time was different. This time, the peasants didn’t simply ask for more bread and fewer lashes. There was talk of wanting to create beauty and art and fulfilment in doing what they enjoyed instead of serving the Imperium. Workers shirked their duties to go dance and feast in the hills. Their bad behavior didn’t abate no matter how many lashes they received. Eventually, even the foreman and enforcers put down their whips to go join in the discussions and festivities, encouraged to see the people they oversaw as fellow workers and people. The governor of Dargonus couldn’t keep it under control, so the Rogue Trader had to fly all the way to Mundus Valancius system to deal with it personally.

Victoire put an end to that brutally. She gathered all her armies to gun down the celebrations, had the Drusian priests to deliver sermons on austerity and devotion, and punished everyone who stood in her way.

They were able to put an end to all of this at last. The very last of the agitators held a large bonfire and feast right outside the capital. They even had the nerve to send Victoire an invitation to “see for herself what it was like”. Victoire responded by personally leading a squadron to gun everyone down.

Now, Victoire was in a shuttlecraft with the sole survivor of that massacre. Victoire had expected the chief agitator to be some grand revolutionary inspiring the rabble with speeches and heroics. However, from her reports, it seems that it had happened almost by accident. Some charming stranger had come into one of the bars and chatted and greeted everyone as if he were a friend, playing his music, imagining a world where the patrons there drank for enjoyment instead of getting through the hardship and monotony of the day.  

What she saw now was a broken bird in a cage. The man’s amber-touched yellow hair fell limply around his sallow cheeks. His hazel eyes stared blankly ahead of him. According to Victoire’s officers, he was already like that when they found him, which was partly why Victoire had decided to forgo the usual torture.

Victoire had not meant for this man to survive. It was a miracle that he had. Now everyone he led was dead. She could only imagine how that felt.

“No one was rebelling against you,” the man said in a hoarse broken voice. “We were just getting together. Raising each other up. Enjoying life.”

Victoire gripped this poor fool by the chin and forced him to meet her gaze.

“You should never have crossed me,” said Victoire. Her captive did not resist as she leaned over and planted her red lips on his forehead.

“Things don’t have to be like this,” he said. Odd, even in this broken state, he’s still spouting this nonsense. It was almost as if it were his nature. “Even you don’t have to live in such a miserable world.”

Victoire let go and stepped away before his words could unsettle her even more.

The shuttle dropped them off in a grassy area of the planet Dargonus. The place was riddled with large trees, boulders, and the ruins probably left behind by some xenos that had settled on the planet long before mankind came in. It was a good location to give her prisoner a fighting chance.

The guards dragged him out and uncuffed his wrists. The poor man looked around confusedly.

Victoire cocked her sniper rifle. “I’ll give you an hour’s head start,” she said before taking off in the shuttle again.

[dragonagesummer]

Her heart is racing in her ears. She feels—drunk, but not, too aware of the world to be drunk—everything brighter and louder and more—but disconnected, like this is all happening to someone else.

Nat Brosca, casteless, branded, less than the dust on her shoes, little more than the heel of the boot Beraht uses to keep the Carta in line. Standing in the Proving Arena. Winning. What began as a last-minute, desperate plan to save their necks has panned out better than she ever could have thought, and even though the armor she wears fits poorly and stinks of cheap ale, even though her muscles burn and her eyes sting with sweat, she only has one more fight to go. Then they’re done. Beraht gets his coin. Everd gets the honor she won for him. Her sister gets a bit more time.

From the high balcony, in a booming voice, the Proving Master calls out:

“Men and women! Lords and Ladies! May I have your attention, please!”

Nat looks up, with the rest of the crowd. The helmet, too large for her head, slips to block her gaze, and she adjusts it—again.

The ceilings in this place are dizzyingly high. Dust Town is cramped, crowded, choked, but at least it’s familiar. Even with all the bodies, more people than Nat’s ever seen in her life in one spot, it feels so… open. She doesn’t know how his voice carries the way that it does. Something with the Stone, how it’s carved?

She’s branded, not smith caste. Damned if she knows how any of that works.

He’s still talking. Rica’s always telling her she needs to focus.

“...held on the eve of battle for the honor of House Aeducan! Having won all matches prior! I give you! The Lord Duran Aeducan himself!”

The noise of the crowd lifts to an ear-splitting roar, and Nat can hear nothing but wordless screams and the rush of her heartbeat in her ears. The doors open. Lord Aeducan steps out—polished armor, steel and silver and bronze, a massive two-handed warhammer slung across his back. He looks Nat in the eyes. He bows. Numb in the fingers, Nat bows in return.

She can’t decide, even after everything that happens, if Everd’s drunken entry in the prince’s wake, sparing her from that fight, was good or bad.

[meraxes-of-new-albion]

White person being annoyed with white people so if that's not your thing pls move on

but i was at hobby night at the warhammer store tonight, and one of the other regulars who's a white girl was there. she's nice, i like her fine, but sometimes she gets on a very black and white thinking mode and it just.... doesn't work with the way my brain works, because it's about things like "animal welfare" or "crime rates" or whatever and she's just regurgitating propaganda uncritically.

It was crime rates tonight, in regards to fucking public transport of all things.

and like. look. i'm a white girl from suburbia. (or close enough to girl to not matter, anyway.) i'll be the first to admit that there's some lingering biases in my brain about POC that i'm trying to unlearn, and probably some things that are stuck in there deeper than i realize. but also? i lived in birmingham AL with the only transportation i had being my own two goddamn feet for almost a year. i gave money to homeless folks whenever i had cash on me. i interacted with people off the street. sometimes they were weird! and i got a little uncomfortable!

but i was never in any danger.

once or twice i'd reach out to a friend discord and say "hey if i'm not home by x time, i'll be walking after dark, pls check in on me". because i'm also not stupid. but i was never threatened in any way.

so whenever someone else comes along, and goes "but stranger danger!" i think about that. about the guy who approached me and asked for cash, and i gave him what little i had, and the discussion we had about the ways the world had changed. how he addressed me with "we're part of the same community".

and so it really rankles me. when someone else very clearly hasn't dissociated "weird" from "bad". or "the south" from "bigoted racists". or "Black folks" from "danger". because i KNOW from firsthand experience that none of those things are true.

"but i have anxiety" bitch me too it's what makes me good at my job but like. there's a difference between "this person is acting weird and making me a little uncomfortable, i'm gonna message my friends and let them know to check in on me in a bit if I don't check in" (which i think is fair, all things considered) and "this person is making me uncomfortable and therefore I'm Going To Get Murdered Like Those True Crime Podcasts" which is just blatantly fearmongering.

something something white women need to learn how to sit with their discomfort literally ever

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk

[cursedvibes]

I feel like I'm missing something that makes everyone love Gideon the Ninth so much. Granted, I haven't gotten that far into it yet. I read the first 4 chapters a while back, but dropped it because I just wasn't vibing with it. I thought though that maybe I went into it with the wrong expectations, this was during the height of my Warhammer novel mania after all, where I basically read nothing else. Seeing how some friends of mine (who usually have similar tastes in fiction) are such big fans of it, I'm giving it another try.

I want to wait at least until the action really picks up and we are introduced to more characters, but the way the book is written still bothers me. The sentences often feel so...choppy? Shallow? Idk, I'm just not getting a lot of feeling from it, it hasn't managed to suck me into it's world yet. Also at times it's really difficult to grasp from the scarce and convoluted descriptions where Gideon even is (in relation to others or just in general) and what she's doing. And it's not in a mystery sense, more in a "what kind of scene am I even supposed to imagine here" way. Like, they are standing before an altar. Okay cool, but what does it even look like? We spend ages naming characters I will have forgotten in a few chapters anyway because they don't appear anymore, but we barely get any description for what this planet or city or catacomb even looks like.

Maybe it gets better later on. Harrow is shaping up to be somewhat interesting, which is good because so far I'm not liking Gideon. She comes off as very try-hard edgy to me and not in an endearing way, it's just annoying. Unfortunately, she's the POV character for this book. I want to like this series because sci-fi and necromancy is a combination I love otherwise, but so far it's just meh...not bad, but also not that different from your average YA dystopian novel, except with more skeletons and corpse paint.

I still have faith that things will get better when the exam starts and we focus less on Gideon.

[nerendus]

Okay, finished Rogue Trader, time for my in depth review.

This was my first Warhammer 40k game, and in terms of just how good it is to start with as someone who has extremely limited knowledge of the lore, it's very good. As a person who quite likes dark choir and Gregorian chant music and just existing online for a long time, it's kinda difficult to not gather some, albeit extremely out of context, snippets of the lore, but this game does it really well that you can go in completely blind and still be able to understand what was going on.

Before I go over the negatives of this game, I naturally have to bring attention to many of the positives.

The true highlight of this game was easily the companions. I was unable to grab Ulfar due to a bug and I got rid of Marazhai when I realised "oh no, he's going to be an awful person to all my canon lovers," but everyone else I loved dearly. Cassia....least of all, her whole thing got boring very quickly, and Yrliet was cool but her combat dialogue made me very annoyed with her. Yes, you are not my xeno pet, now can you please shoot that celestial being that is trying to kill all of us?

Everyone else, I have no complaints with. Argenta was very extreme, but in a sort of endearing way. Idira's story made me so sad, and I'm glad I was able to give her an ending where she lived a happy life. That bit of Jae taking her to go see the void whales nearly brought a tear to my eye. Heinrix...I like to make fun of him and call him a snitching bitch, but I do genuinely like him. It's just I like him in a way that I constantly want to bully him because I think it's funny. Jae and Pasqal are legally both my wives and I don't care what canon says. Abelard...Abelard is my Kim Kitsuragi. Most of my choices in the game were based around if he would approve or not. I wasn't able to give most of my friends the best possible outcome (tbh at a certain point I stopped trying), but just being able to send that old man off peacefully surrounded by people who love him was the greatest feeling in the entire world.

In terms of gameplay, naturally my favourite part was the space exploration. Finding new worlds and uncovering their ancient pasts...it was all so much fun. More on that in a moment.

The story towards the end did begin to bother me, but there were two moments that really made it worthwhile. First, the final goodbyes to all of your friends. I don't know how different the conversations would be if you were an asshole to them, but being on good terms with everyone really just warms the heart. Being able to hug Idira, Pasqal saying he was glad to travel with me, Abelard........being Abelard. The only thing I would change is that I think, as Lord Captain, I should've been able to order a group hug. I loved them all so much and I truly think they should've at the bare minimum hugged (bare maximum: best orgy the Expanse has ever seen).

The second part was...the ending sequence itself. I did the Iconoclast ending with my lovely son Nomos, and that whole sequence of the Rogue Trader going Go, my sweet summer child and watching my son becoming a literal god was great. I had...a few concerns throughout the game that because I played a good person I would get a bad ending since the Dystopian Fascist Government That's In Denial That They Are A Dystopia would naturally try to off my girl, but Nomos coming in clutch to save the Expanse was amazing. If Iconoclast had been a certified bad ending, especially after all the bullshit that happened in Act 3 and beyond, I would have been so pissed. Having a satisfying ending, however bittersweet it may be, made the difficult and stressful journey worth it. Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader was my Mordor, and I was Frodo Baggins and Abelard was Samwise Gamgee.

In terms of endings.....I did okay. Abelard got the best ending, Idira did as well though she didn't reconcile with Vigdis or Argenta--if someone can explain how you do that, especially Vigdis, please tell me I'm curious. Everyone else....lived a life. Heinrix got assassinated, Jae got assassinated, Pasqal became a heretic which I think is hot of him, Yrliet was killed by Pasqal which is honestly kinda funny, Cassia...I didn't care enough to actually read her ending but I think it was okay.

I was only really trying to get good endings for Abelard, Idira, and Pasqal because naturally they were the characters I got the most attached to. I was initially trying with Jae, but after I realised that after Act 3 you can't go forward with romancing her, I was so fucking tired of this bullshit that I gave up. Everyone else I did make an effort to help them, but I didn't care that much about getting the perfect ending for them.

So...now is time for the negatives. First one is the one that I've mentioned a few times, and that's the story. Up until Act 3 I was deeply immersed in the story, I really liked where it was headed. But once you get to Commorragh (which I will now refer to strictly as Low Budget Tower of Latria) it starts to fall apart.

The very beginning was great. The Rogue Trader being mentally tortured and struggling to get by as she searches for her comrades that have also bear witness to the Horrors. Finding out the different ways they were abused at the hands of that....fish....elf....mermaid....thing was great. And the idea of then going to try and get revenge on the fuckers who tortured you was also good but it just...kept...going. The battles were just so boring, and the dungeon just kept spiraling on in a way that wasn't fun at all. It doesn't help that the story also just...wasn't appetizing. After we gather the crew and Tervantias told us to fuck off, it just became boring. Yeah, those dudes want to see us fight to the death, can I please continue on to the next area already?

I also just have an issue with just how...after Act 3 the torture is only really referenced in idle dialogue between companions. Funnily enough, the only one I got to mention it was Idira and she wasn't even there. Like, I feel like they should have put in at least a little bit of extra effort into placing those events into the overall storyline for the companions that were actually there. Make Abelard sad, Cassia even more of a whiny bitch. Hell, you literally tell Pasqal "hey man, we'll deal with the weird xenotech in your body once we get out of this place" and then it is never mentioned again. It felt so out of place for you to go through literal hell with your best friends and it not have a lasting impact on anybody. At the very least, there should have been the ability that the companions that went to Bad Latria to have new dialogue options open up at the bridge--there's no way you wouldn't have a deeper connection with these folk after all that.

But eventually, Act 3 passes and Act 4...was Act 4. I'm trying to keep my breakdown of the events linear, but I just...really think Act 4 and Act 5 should have been switched, or at the very least, the bosses switched. But I'll get into that in a moment.

Act 4 wasn't terrible. Most of it was just finishing up on companion questlines, and the questlines were genuinely fun to do...except Cassia. Look, at a certain point you lose patience with characters like her, and I just picked options that didn't make me sound like a total asshole. Pasqal's questline was fun...even though it was hard to keep up with the constant new information and names I most certainly don't remember being referenced. I really wasn't expecting the Truth to be that he is like, robot Moses, I really thought that he was just a septuplet or something. I did really like the twist even though I didn't fully understand it. Argenta's mission was cool. Abelard's was amazing even though I had to enlist the help of the wiki since it didn't really click at first.

There's also the bit on Footfall of making things normal again, and honestly, gathering a squad of bandits-turned-politicians-turned-bandits, pirates, priests, drunkards, to fight against Some Woman was really fun. But...then the inquisitor sends you off to war.

The war part itself was fun, even though it was just a storytelling bit. Grandpa Opticon-22 died, but comparing that to his Alive Ending....his sacrifice honestly just felt far more satisfying than robbing him of his martyrdom. Also, he's Grandpa, his legs must be so tired, he deserves some rest.

But then you get into the facility and the anger just comes back at full force. Listen, I'm not the biggest fan of turn based fights in video games--if I went seeking gameplay like that I'd go play DND--but Rogue Trader had been for the most part not bad though it does get quite repetitive and boring, but the shit on that planet fucking sucked. It wasn't fun. It was over staying its welcome for a really long goddamn time. And then you go fight Urlon and the bird....it's the same shit. It was boring as hell and didn't spark any fun whatsoever. The Urlon portion wasn't that bad, but the bird....man, fuck that bird.

There was a moment after returning to Footfall for answers that I did like, and that was all of the faction leaders sort of wishing the Rogue Trader good luck on her journey. It was cute, but I didn't manage to max out friendship with any of the factions by a long shot. I was aiming for really good rep with the Navy and AdMech since the colony stuff related to them was the most interesting to me, but...alas. Are you able to max out more than one faction? I've heard people maxing out the Navy, but I don't know if the only way to max out a faction is by focusing solely on one or what.

There was that bit of a Star Trek feel when you finally get through that portal and end up somewhere completely uncharted. It felt so magical, but it ended just as quickly as it began. There was only like, four, maybe five systems that you got to explore before you were at the end of the game, which just fucking sucked. The map for the Expanse is so huge and you only get to explore like 1/3 of it that if felt so...unfulfilling. I loved that feeling when I first pulled open the map and thought "Wow! This thing is huge! I can't wait to explore every nook and cranny!" and just for most of that space to go untouched really hurt my explorer brain.

So....the Inquisitor. I really hated how the story handled him. Sort of suddenly and disjointedly at the end of Act 4 the story begins to try and paint him as the big bad mastermind of the game and it just...didn't work for me. If there had been more intrigue...mystery....unanswered questions that just chewed at your brain throughout the game, maybe it could have worked. But really it was mainly just, you go up to this man and he has to explain how every little detail of the game was directly his fault. It did not feel satisfying at all. It just happened, and then he was dead.

I think, even if they kept him as the True Mastermind, he and Urlon should have swapped places. Urlon and Kunrad just mean so much more for the Rogue Trader's personal journey, that I can't help but think they should have been put at the end instead of the Inquisitor. So much of the story had been this sort of quest for revenge, and for the ending to not be a fulfillment of that revenge just feels wrong.

As for the actual final boss, no major complaints. C'tan was a bit....boring. They could've hired their orchestra to have a truly magnificent final boss theme and gave him far more cool and epic moves instead of just...standing there most of the time. I will say, though, I did really like that one attack that puts a bunch of spears in a companion and you can just...have another companion swap places. I think that was really neat.

The other part of the negatives is bugs...but this is already way too long so I'll be quick with this part.

Ulfar just...wasn't able to be recruited

enemies just remaining in their idle poses during fights and it taking upwards to a minute for the game to finally move to another fighter

Stairs.

Idle dialogue not supporting the canon events (Abelard grieving the idea of the Rogue Trader and Cassia being put into a loveless marriage....despite that not being a thing)

This isn't really a bug, but fuck if the camera angles in oddly shaped rooms don't just jerk you around constantly

There's probably more bugs and more grievances I have that I have just forgotten...but this is long and I just want this to be over.

I've wanted to get into Warhammer 40k for years, but with there being so much material and not knowing what would be a good starting point as someone with no knowledge, this game was a godsend. There's very certain things that I'm very much into about the universe: AdMech, the Necrons, the Elves all specifically and having now the basics to go forth I know what I want to go more into since there is no way in hell I'm going to play every game and read every book there is.

I'm not very interested in the Space Marines and the Imperium...but not for the reason you'd think. I don't care that they're facists and their god is a dead dude, it's....just that they look ugly. Not physically, some of them are quite attractive face-wise, but them just wearing this big bulky armour but their faces being exposed just fills me with a rage that even I don't understand. The reason I want to kill the God-Emperor isn't because he created an awful place to live, it's because I saw one picture of him as a Man In Armour and it just made me so mad and now I hate everything he stands for. It's weird, I can't explain it.

But yeah...I'm really glad that I played this game. There's talk of a DLC mayhaps coming, and I have absolutely no desire to play it. Act 3 and beyond just makes the game immediately unreplayable for me, but I am still very grateful that I did play it.

Final score. 6/10.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Ruby: The main four factions of Fallout 4 are all garbage!

Ruby: The Minute Men? Militaristically the weakest when you start, being literally One Guy, and the group of survivors that are sticking around him! Then you save One Little settlement of TWO PEOPLE, and ALL of a sudden he thinks you're hot shit. And y'know what? They can become arguably the strongest faction in the game. They get Artillery, you can build robots, and they get access to the Mechanist Facility, which one could feasibly just Reprogram the robots idea of 'Safety', but Bethesda are cowards, and same could be said of Nuka-World, but like. Whatever, even without that, you can build the Minutemen up anyway!

Ruby: The problem is that it's UP TO YOU!

Ruby: YOU'RE THE ONLY THING BETWEEN THEM AND OBLIVION!

Ruby: And their also just 'Generally Good Guys' with nothing more than 'I wanna Help People' as a motive, but I suppose I'm one to talk, but for all those settlements to just agree? Kinda lame.

She drinks a glass of water, before taking a deep breathe.

Ruby: Now, the Railroad? Ignoring the very blatant and very poor - I can't Even call it a Ripoff! It straight up is just taking directly from the actual, historical underground railroad! But ignoring that major, somewhat probably racist copying of an important part of history, They just suck.

Ruby: Tunnel-Visioned on, yes a noble cause, but wholly uncaring about the after effects of their actions on those they save, or making the Commonwealth better so they can really give the synths a new life, BUT NO!

Ruby: They sit in their little hovel, preaching about freeing slaves, but not helping anyone around them, and as such making themselves weaker. Now I get that they need to be stealthy, but they are just so bad in terms of effectiveness, and you know, changing their keys and Signs, and passwords, that they aren't good at the whole espionage thing!

Ruby: They don't even operate in cells! A big part of resisting something is being able to survive despite a section missing! Like splitting an army to force the enemy to fight on two fronts! But they maintain a generic centralized power structure, Severely Weakening their ability to recuperate from any losses of leaders!

Ruby Groans, pinching her nose, preparing for another rant.

Ruby: The Brotherhood, I refuse to waste much breathe on. They are just a racist, selfish military force, effectively the goddamn Imperium of Man from Warhammer, but like, way lamer.

Ruby: They live in a goddamn Zeppelin -

Ruby: and it is a Zeppelin due to the rigid structure that maintains its shape-

Ruby: filled with Hydrogen. I suppose large supplies of helium would probably be hard to come by in post apocalypse, but, bearing in mind I'm not a particle physicist, when you have FUSION TECHNOLOGY, Could you possibly fuse Helium into Hydrogen? Maybe try something like that? or possibly not keep your Elder in a ticking time bomb? If a storm rolls in, and some grounding equipment fails, KABLOOEY! DEAD! GONE!

Ruby takes another sip of water

Ruby: Honestly the biggest fault of those three was the fact they decided to blow up the Institute, instead of using it's teleportation tech, it's computer and medical resources, or even just taking fresh clothes?

Ruby: *Sigh*

Ruby: Which leads into the worst of the factions.

Ruby: The Institute. The Cowardly, Self-Centered, Hypocritical, Ham-Fisted, Hot-Headed Institute.

Ruby: The first attempt at communication and working with the Commonwealth fell through, so they kill whoever, they want to take over the commonwealth so they start replacing people with high-quality synths, they're supposed to be smart, but can hardly work together, They rely heavily on using force to communicate with the outside, while relying upon outside resources to stay alive.

Ruby: And the worst part?

Ruby: They constantly Contradict themselves.

Ruby: The Institute wants to be "Mankind: Redefined" But when the very human Synths begin to show humanity, they kill those synths.

Ruby: The creation made with the express purpose to be a better mankind, is often destoyed, because they show signs of humanity.

Ruby: So that's mostly what's wrong with the Fallout 4 base game Factions.

Weiss, Tied to a chair and Crying: Please! I Just wanted to play a Dress-Up game in the computer!

Ruby: NOW THE DLC FACTIONS-