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I’ve posted the current version of the 3000-word first chapter of my 23k-and-counting longfic in progress on my Patreon for $3+ patrons. Logged-in patrons can see it in the latest activity post, labeled “Chapter 1 Preview.” I’ve been spending the past couple of weeks rewriting the latest chapters (5-7) and will be getting back into accumulating wordcount within the next day or two. Freelancer-era RvB stuff, which is all I plan to say about it for now, mostly because I’ve got Plans that involve destroying everything you love forever.

Please consider pledging if you’re interested or sharing with others you think would be. I think this is unequivocally the best work I’ve ever done and even have someone beta reading for once, so hopefully you’ll find it worth it.

4 notes

Parallax

[AO3]

Looking at something from two different angles, it can be hard to tell if any of it was ever real.

(Wash/Tex fill for the kink meme. Warnings for emetophobia, depression, and suicidal ideation, though not during the sex parts.)

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epsilontucker:

but have you considered: asexual south and aromantic north

yes. yes. yes I have. Let’s talk about asexual South who uses indiscriminately sexual language as an aggressive social tactic to shock people, and who’s capable of powerful aesthetic attraction but only has the urge to touch people to trace their shapes and how their gorgeous parts connect. Let’s talk about aromantic North who’s separated from the roiling incestuous electron cloud of Freelancer romantic relationships but that doesn’t stop him from caring about the people and relationships in it, or from watching South’s romantic flings from as much of a distance as he can make himself maintain because, as she reminds him and he tries to remind himself, she doesn’t need his meddling. let’s. let’s talk about that.

121 notes

  1. glorifiedmonster said: i cannot believe you bought books to help you with this.. dedication, man..

In my defense, two of them are from the library. In the complete opposite of my defense, I have one of those in both real book and audiobook form.

1 note

So, for those charting my descent into ruin, I’m now over 20k words into the current fic and have in my possession three (3) Halo novels. No one could have predicted this. (This was utterly predictable and I am ashamed I didn’t see it coming after finishing season 6 for the first time.)

If I were someone whose writing process were not my writing process, I would be posting chapters as I complete them. As it is, I’m editing all over as I continue writing and therefore have to settle for dumping the whole thing at once after it’s all polished up. Just wanted to let folk know that this is still a thing and I’m still making good progress.

3 notes

oh……..

lies down

2 notes

thislovelymaelstrom:

hello, world!
if you post red vs. blue things could you do me a huge favor and reblog this so i can find and follow you? i’d really like to see more rvb on my dash. c:

(via punishandenslavesuckers)

283 notes

Support me on Patreon

cineresis:

Hey, guys. So this week, I started another fic that is already five chapters and over 12k words in and is looking to get a lot huger before it’s finished. The thing is, first of all, that when I’m writing I’m doing nothing else, only writing every moment I’m conscious enough to do so. (To give you an idea, I’ve been writing so much this week that I keep forgetting meals and having to pull together something I can eat while still typing one-handed.) Second, I’ve been doing this instead of work that I might be able to sell. And because I’m chronically ill, even if I were doing the latter, I almost never have the energy necessary to seek out either freelance work or a publisher for stories I write independently.

I’m not going to stop writing fanfic, because clearly it has long ago snagged me by the hair and dragged me inescapably to its tenebrous lair, but it would be incredibly helpful to me — not to mention a huge incentive to keep writing — if you would check out the Patreon I’ve set up and consider becoming a patron. There are what I think are some good rewards and opportunities you wouldn’t otherwise get, such as access to wip excerpts and outtakes in the patron activity feed, and at higher levels the ability to influence what I write about since I don’t have the health to be able to do free fic requests. There will also no doubt be original fic in the mix as well, which I hope you’ll find as enjoyable as my fanworks. Whatever you end up doing, even if it’s only a signal boost, I appreciate it immeasurably.

Support me on Patreon

Hey, guys. So this week, I started another fic that is already five chapters and over 12k words in and is looking to get a lot huger before it’s finished. The thing is, first of all, that when I’m writing I’m doing nothing else, only writing every moment I’m conscious enough to do so. (To give you an idea, I’ve been writing so much this week that I keep forgetting meals and having to pull together something I can eat while still typing one-handed.) Second, I’ve been doing this instead of work that I might be able to sell. And because I’m chronically ill, even if I were doing the latter, I almost never have the energy necessary to seek out either freelance work or a publisher for stories I write independently.

I’m not going to stop writing fanfic, because clearly it has long ago snagged me by the hair and dragged me inescapably to its tenebrous lair, but it would be incredibly helpful to me — not to mention a huge incentive to keep writing — if you would check out the Patreon I’ve set up and consider becoming a patron. There are what I think are some good rewards and opportunities you wouldn’t otherwise get, such as access to wip excerpts and outtakes in the patron activity feed, and at higher levels the ability to influence what I write about since I don’t have the health to be able to do free fic requests. There will also no doubt be original fic in the mix as well, which I hope you’ll find as enjoyable as my fanworks. Whatever you end up doing, even if it’s only a signal boost, I appreciate it immeasurably.

21 notes

Fic: Way Ahead Way Behind

punishandenslavesuckers:

cineresis:

"Y’know, there’s a lot of ways people deal with the death of a teammate," says the last person in the troop bay. He returns everyone else’s attention with a friendly nod, crossing his legs comfortably. "Not all of them healthy, obviously! And trust me, whoo, I’ve seen some pretty destructive coping methods." He laughs lightly. "I mean, it’s a stressful event, and the thing about stress is you’ve gotta burn it off somehow or it’ll fester, right here." He pats his chestplate. "Fighting, drinking, making jokes, making…well, I won’t be crude, but you all know where I’m going with this!"

"Is that your coping method, Florida?" York asks, with a wry twist to his lip.

Florida laughs again. “Who, me? Nah, I could never. Can’t really get into the spirit, you know? No, I put in a few hands of poker.”

Having just started watching RvB a month or so prior to epsilongrif posting this picture, I was pretty much not at all expecting to see it tagged “why is there no fic of this?” and think, wow, you know, I could really make fic of this. It’d be easy. Two or three thousand words, tops, just the thing to get back into casual writing with.

I can’t really justify my narrative choices in this except that they seemed like a good idea at the time and by the time I determined otherwise I was too many thousands of words deep into the sunk cost fallacy to do much more than adjust what I could. I’m especially disappointed with some problematic tropes that came up after I remembered Oregon was a woman three thousand words in. It’s probably bad policy to kill off someone else’s OC. I’m pretty sure that’s a thing. Let’s just…pretend it’s a different Oregon, entirely unrelated to any other female Agent Oregons out there.

The other thing I’m most disappointed about is my overall pace being much less impressive than it started out being when I got sick three days and five thousand words into writing. Instead it’s almost exactly a month later, which is kind of awesome but not as awesome as approximately one million words in a week.

York’s pun is probably “teleportland”, which is a hilarious pun and the main reason I could not bring myself to change the character involved. I’m sorry about a lot of things regarding this fic.


edit
This post was originally made July 18th at noon. Editing it on mobile to add a few tags I had forgotten changed the timestamp for some reason. I can’t do anything about this.

psssssst. everyone. I already recommended this one but I’m doing it again because I really like this one because fucking dialogue is perf and the characterization is perf and the whole thing is a fucking adventure and has the tone and meanness of a military story but also the dead-on camaraderie of the freelancers in shitty times of war. solider banter. poker. naked freelancers. its everything you want. 

(gray has now transcended to a higher realm beyond mere physicality; nothing remains of their gross mortal shell but effusive tears)

49 notes

Juneou, 2556

cineresis:

[AO3]

Locus has nearly finished clearing this area when a blip of red appears in his motion tracker, so quickly that he might almost think it was a glitch. Drawing back into cover behind a slashed conifer, he scans the direction it appeared in and sees a crevasse in the cliff face terminating the northwest edge of the forest, half-hidden by fallen grey boulders. The flash in his tracker was either a wild animal, unworthy of attention, or a living member of the undisciplined squad he just took care of, in which case it needs to die. Whatever it was, it’s now motionless enough and shielded by enough rock that he can no longer pick it up.

He’s willing to wager that the crevasse is large enough to contain at least one human body. There’s no good angle of approach on it, and he can’t see a target to get a clear shot, so he unloads a double set of three-round bursts into the roof of the hollow.

There’s a garbled, half-muffled scream as the stone shrapnel finds a mark. Locus uses the moment to move up before aiming again and expending another six rounds. This time they’re followed by a panicked utterance and the crash of undergrowth as the crevasse’s occupant hurls itself out of its shelter in a badly-aimed roll. Locus is there to kick the submachine gun out of the human’s hands as he rises and attempts to bring it to bear. The gun goes flying and hits the cliff, letting off a stuttering salvo of bullets that find their place in the roof of the very shelter the man just left. He takes a wild swing at Locus with his unbroken hand. Locus catches his wrist and with his other hand drives a combat knife through the forearm and into the cliff.

The man’s scream is unrestrained this time.

Read More

26 notes

Juneou, 2556

[AO3]

Locus has nearly finished clearing this area when a blip of red appears in his motion tracker, so quickly that he might almost think it was a glitch. Drawing back into cover behind a slashed conifer, he scans the direction it appeared in and sees a crevasse in the cliff face terminating the northwest edge of the forest, half-hidden by fallen grey boulders. The flash in his tracker was either a wild animal, unworthy of attention, or a living member of the undisciplined squad he just took care of, in which case it needs to die. Whatever it was, it’s now motionless enough and shielded by enough rock that he can no longer pick it up.

He’s willing to wager that the crevasse is large enough to contain at least one human body. There’s no good angle of approach on it, and he can’t see a target to get a clear shot, so he unloads a double set of three-round bursts into the roof of the hollow.

There’s a garbled, half-muffled scream as the stone shrapnel finds a mark. Locus uses the moment to move up before aiming again and expending another six rounds. This time they’re followed by a panicked utterance and the crash of undergrowth as the crevasse’s occupant hurls itself out of its shelter in a badly-aimed roll. Locus is there to kick the submachine gun out of the human’s hands as he rises and attempts to bring it to bear. The gun goes flying and hits the cliff, letting off a stuttering salvo of bullets that find their place in the roof of the very shelter the man just left. He takes a wild swing at Locus with his unbroken hand. Locus catches his wrist and with his other hand drives a combat knife through the forearm and into the cliff.

The man’s scream is unrestrained this time.

Read More

Fic: Way Ahead Way Behind

"Y’know, there’s a lot of ways people deal with the death of a teammate," says the last person in the troop bay. He returns everyone else’s attention with a friendly nod, crossing his legs comfortably. "Not all of them healthy, obviously! And trust me, whoo, I’ve seen some pretty destructive coping methods." He laughs lightly. "I mean, it’s a stressful event, and the thing about stress is you’ve gotta burn it off somehow or it’ll fester, right here." He pats his chestplate. "Fighting, drinking, making jokes, making…well, I won’t be crude, but you all know where I’m going with this!"

"Is that your coping method, Florida?" York asks, with a wry twist to his lip.

Florida laughs again. “Who, me? Nah, I could never. Can’t really get into the spirit, you know? No, I put in a few hands of poker.”

Having just started watching RvB a month or so prior to epsilongrif posting this picture, I was pretty much not at all expecting to see it tagged “why is there no fic of this?” and think, wow, you know, I could really make fic of this. It’d be easy. Two or three thousand words, tops, just the thing to get back into casual writing with.

I can’t really justify my narrative choices in this except that they seemed like a good idea at the time and by the time I determined otherwise I was too many thousands of words deep into the sunk cost fallacy to do much more than adjust what I could. I’m especially disappointed with some problematic tropes that came up after I remembered Oregon was a woman three thousand words in. It’s probably bad policy to kill off someone else’s OC. I’m pretty sure that’s a thing. Let’s just…pretend it’s a different Oregon, entirely unrelated to any other female Agent Oregons out there.

The other thing I’m most disappointed about is my overall pace being much less impressive than it started out being when I got sick three days and five thousand words into writing. Instead it’s almost exactly a month later, which is kind of awesome but not as awesome as approximately one million words in a week.

York’s pun is probably “teleportland”, which is a hilarious pun and the main reason I could not bring myself to change the character involved. I’m sorry about a lot of things regarding this fic.


edit
This post was originally made July 18th at noon. Editing it on mobile to add a few tags I had forgotten changed the timestamp for some reason. I can’t do anything about this.

confessionforanothertime said: I RP a character named Agent Oregon so the set up to the poker fic made me super sad. D:

Learned human empathy informs me I should express sorrow for your pain, but base nature insists I splash joyously in the public fountain of your tears before absorbing them to replace my own.

6 notes

cineresis said: I felt you would like to know that a fic now exists of the freelancers playing strip poker as a result of your fanart. cineresis(.)tumblr(.)com/post/92153104149/fic-way-ahead-way-behind

eponymous-rose:

epsilongrif:

i’m only on the summary and i can already tell this is going to be some of the best shit i have ever read oh my GOD.

So this is, um. This is easily one of my all-time favourite RvB fics. It’s gallows humor and perfect character voices and a fantastic distant third-person narrator that is so rare in fics. And, most importantly, poker.

South is particularly well done, but everyone in this fic just shines, including Wyoming and Florida. If you asked me to sum up the Freelancers, I think this would be the story to do it.

(For anyone who missed it the first time around, the fanart in question is here and also, incidentally, fantastic.)

(gray is seen weeping quietly, their tears falling like the soft misty endless spring rains no longer able to be contained by the poignantly permeable nacreous membrane of the skies)