#world's fair was about getting completely lost in fiction

[canislupusangelus]

ISTTVG could not have come at a better point in my life tbh...... like very beginning of summer break, right before my 17th birthday, after a year of (more severe than it had been for a while) depression. And I watched it with two of the people I love most. It was insane.

[transmasc-tabris]

.

[guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy]

three coffees please - verstappen / ricciardo

(gif not mine @maxgovroom)

pairing: max x fem driver!reader x daniel

summary: Max, Daniel, and you. Inseparable. Their bond from childhood rivals to best friends to lovers.

themes/warnings: alcohol, no smut, domestic, fluff, some angst, hint of daniel being possessive, daniel's tattoos, no use of y/n THIS IS FICTION

wc: 1.8k

a/n: craving maxiel x reader that isn't straight up smut so enjoy this completely self indulgent fic. also trying to get back into writing so if you have request pls put them through <3

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/59444749

You and Max grew up racing together in karting. Your families weren’t friends but you two gravitated towards each other after a few years of hard racing and a fair share of head butting. Your shared love of cats really began your relationship. 

You were usually the only girl at the track so you were subject to endless teasing from the other boys about many things, including your close friendship with Max. It didn’t really matter though, you or Max ran them off track eventually and the comments and snide remarks stopped. 

Your relationship with Max never grew from more than a friendship, except for that one time when you were thirteen and you shared each other’s first kiss behind a building behind a building before a race, for good luck of course. You and Max ended up sharing a 1-2. 

Max ended up joining the Red Bull Driver Academy whilst you joined the Mercedes Driver Academy. The rival academies were of no concern to either of you and had long ago figured out how to manage your relationship on and off track. 

Max ended up making his Formula 1 debut a year earlier than you. This was when he properly made Daniel’s acquaintance. 

Daniel. Charming. Loud. Handsome. Cheerful. The Australian had the motorsport world wrapped around his tattooed fingers, including Max. Many of your phone calls with Max that year involved a funny anecdote about Daniel’s antics that week. 

You joined the grid a year later, driving for Williams and wanting to prove yourself for the Mercedes seat. No one was more excited than Max, eager to have his childhood best friend and now F1 best friend in the same place for twenty something weekends a year. 

You finally met Daniel that year. He was everything you thought and more. His kindness and genuine nature surprised you, having pulled you aside for coffee and a quick chat during pre-season testing. After all, it wasn’t long ago that he was a young, nervous rookie. 

You were sucked into the shiny whirlpool of Daniel Ricciardo soon after. Hangouts with Max in his Monaco apartment on off weeks turned into the three of you spending hours on each other’s living room floors. On the days where distance separated the three of you, Facetime calls and gaming sessions were the norm. 

You and Daniel started seeing each other three years into your F1 career. At this point, you had lost the last of your baby fat and had grown into a beautiful young woman. Daniel had always thought you were beautiful, but recently, you had become something otherworldly. 

It started after someone’s birthday celebration in some Monaco nightclub. You and Daniel danced together as you always had, but Daniel’s grip on your hips was tighter and the way he leaned down on your neck was closer than he had ever been. He eyed off other men, daring them to try and take a piece, knowing he’d come out on top. 

Max was oblivious to the entire situation, too blind drunk to notice the lingering touches as you and Daniel helped him into bed at the end of the night.

A light hand on your hip, a longing glance in the dim light of the kitchen ended with you in the guest room, wrapped in Daniel’s arms as he worshiped you until the early hours of the morning. 

Daniel greeted you with a cup of coffee, an old Red Bull shirt he kept at Max’s, and a joke that you looked good in the red and dark blue. 

You two started up a breakfast in the kitchen, bringing out a hungover and bleary eyed Max from his room. Max didn’t catch the look shared between yourself and Daniel, a silent agreement to not tell Max about the night before. Max ignored the Red Bull shirt with the giant 3 on the back, chalking it up to not wanting to wear alcohol ridden clothes, rather than a sign of Daniel’s claim on you. 

You and Daniel continued seeing each other for the next year. Well, “seeing” each other in loose terms. You kept it casual, aware of the challenges of romance as an F1 driver, more so between two drivers and even more so when you’re the first female F1 driver in what felt like forever. Still, for what it’s worth, both of you never saw another person. 

Max began catching on soon enough. A flash of pink fabric behind a closing door of Daniel’s room, much too small for one of Daniel’s loud shirts. Fading bruises on your chest, only noticeable up close on yacht days in the summer. Max seeing Daniel going into your room late Saturday night and seeing you two walk into the paddock together the next morning. 

Safe to say, Max was confused. He wasn’t upset that you and Daniel were hanging out without him. It would be more weird if you two weren’t. But the nature of your relationship was confusing to him, enough for him to begin digging. 

Now, Max wasn’t one to snoop, but he’s known you long enough for you not to care. You were in the shower after some shared training which was good enough an opportunity for him. Your password remained the same, but Max scrolled past the games he’d play on your phone to your photo album. Nothing out of the ordinary, some dumb selfies and pictures from the paddock and Monaco.

Two photos caught his eye. The first, a dark room illuminated by the flash from your phone. You were lying against your sheets, hair messy on the pillow behind you. You were smiling, eyes tired, but there was an unmistakable hand with a rose tattoo around your neck - Daniel. The second, less obvious but still recognisable to Max. The morning light was streaming through your window and a man sat on the edge of your bed, his back to the camera. The defining curls were definitely Daniels and the muscles on his back were the same ones Max had been admiring for years. 

Max put the phone back where he found it. He had the confirmation he wanted but it didn’t settle the heavy pit in his stomach. Both you and Daniel were attractive people, there was no denying that. He’d even caught himself looking at you both several times throughout the years. Sometimes he was delusional enough to think the looks were reciprocated, but that would be in his wildest dreams. 

The feeling was no longer confusion. It was a strange myriad of emotions he’d only felt in fleeting moments, quickly shut down by his brain. The dam is open now. A feeling longing for his best friends, the people he loved most and could never define his relationship with. Jealousy, not directed at a single person, but perhaps at both of you in a way Max could not understand yet. Betrayal, for not being told or trusted enough with this information, when Max could tell the both of you anything. 

You could tell something was bothering Max, but you never pushed. He’d come to you when he was ready. Years of knowing Max has taught you enough of his emotional processing. Still, you brought it up to Daniel one night in bed. He assumed it was stress at Red Bull, but you thought otherwise. 

It came to a boil at Daniel’s apartment one night. The three of you organised a casual homemade dinner. You answered the door with dishevelled hair, blaming it on training earlier in the day but if anything, it was from certain activities prior to Max’s arrival. 

All three of you had a few drinks that night. Max was sober enough to know what was happening but had enough alcohol to count as liquid courage. 

Max sat on a beanbag on the floor, eyeing you and Daniel on the couch. You sat on the end with a glass of wine, Daniel right next to you, thighs touching yours despite the spacious couch. 

I know you two have been hooking up. 

Shock. Panic. Backs against a corner. Words stuck in a clogged throat. 

Apologies streamed out, from you and Daniel. Your hand ended up in Max’s hair, your other holding his hand. Daniel on Max’s other side, holding his hand and arm. Tears came from all three of you. 

Max sat there, almost numb and resigned. He was hurt, but he also hated seeing you and Daniel like this. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the heightened emotions or the unholy combination of both. 

Consequences be damned. The three of you will emerge from the aftermath later, like always. Max just needed his people. 

Max leaned in to you and cut you off mid sentence with a hard kiss. Another round of shock, then confusion from which emerged a feeling of familiarity. These were the same lips that touched yours all those years ago. This was Max, who always had your back. Your Maxie. You kissed him back and the grip he had on your hand tightened. 

Max pulled away, breathless and eyes wide. But breathing was you, and breathing was Daniel so he pulled Daniel in by the curls on the back of his head. Daniel pressed in as much as he could because this was Max. His Max, and when he had no one, he always had Max. 

They had each other that night, making up for emotions and lost time, where nothing else mattered but the three of you. 

Max lay in between you and Daniel in the sobering dawn light. You leaned on your forearm, running your fingers through Max’s hair. Daniel lay half asleep, cuddled into Max’s side. 

I need you. Both. 

Max spoke those words into the ceiling. A crossroads, that would forever change the trajectory of your lives. 

Daniel blinked sleepily at you. Another silent communication, that perhaps Max was the missing piece between the both of you; the catalyst for the next step. 

We’ll have you.

Always. 

You layed back down, tucking yourself into Max’s side. Daniel tightened his grip around Max’s waist and drifted off into sleep. 

Life became a little simpler after. You all kept your own apartments, but every night was a sleepover with your best friends. Things eventually started migrating between places; toothbrushes in mugs, each other’s hobbies and crafts and everyone’s favourite snacks having a permanent stash in each other’s apartments. 

Daniel liked to begin mornings by bringing in coffee for the three of you. He blamed the Italian in him when Max protested one early morning and tried to bury himself further into the sheets and you. 

He was an extrovert and a lover at heart, so it wasn’t a surprise when Daniel’s personal team found out about the relationship first. The public would never know, they were long ago used to seeing the three of you out and about, even when the catch ups turned into dinner dates. 

Daniel was a giver, proven to him on the night Max won his first championship. A quiet moment on the balcony of his hotel room, watching you and Max slow dance, the lights of the city reflecting on your slinky black dress. He realised he would give anything for you and Max. 

[ltleflrt]

This whole backlash against printing fics irks the fuck out of me, and I got some shit to say about it. Mostly "Fuck You" but here's some nuance:

On the surface, I understand where the naysayers are coming from. It's a legitimate fear that making a profit from fanworks will bring down the C&D Hammer on fandom. I get that. Do not put on the One Ring, or you'll risk the Eye of Sauron.

But here's the thing. Fuck capitalism. Fuck digital only. We're living in the digital dark ages, and 100 years from now huge swathes of our history, fact and fiction, will be lost to our descendants because there will be no physical copies of our lives for them to find in old libraries and boxes in the attic, etc.

Creators deserve physical copies of their creations, and so do the other people in the world who love them.

I don't want to profit from letting people print my fics. That's why I use Lulu, since they have an option to set zero profit and make the links hidden so only fans in the know can get a copy. Other printing sites I've looked at in the past don't have those options. In fact, the first time I ever even thought about printing one of my stories was when I won NaNo for the first time and one of the prizes was a coupon for 3 free printings of your story. HELL YEAH, that's a copy for me, a copy for my beta, and a copy for the artist who made the cover for me. Perfect! But I ended up not using that coupon, because the site required I set a profit margin, and did not have an option to make it private. Ummm, no thanks. Not worth the risk. And even though the profit margin could be set as low as ten cents, I did not want to make ANY money from my fic, because I know that would be breaking Fair Use rules. I found Lulu instead, and decided to let other people get copies too, because I'm nice. And if I don't, it's not like I can stop them from doing it themselves, no matter how much I'd rather they not do that.

But that's not good enough for the Reporting Trolls. Their argument is that it's not possible for it to be completely profit free, since Lulu makes a profit on the printing costs and the shipping carriers make a profit off the shipping costs. Someone is making a profit, and that's unacceptable, even if that someone is not Me, The Person Who Made The Printing and Shipping Worth Paying For.

I would like anyone who thinks that to delete your accounts where you read fanfiction. AO3, Wattpad, FFNet, LJ, Dreamwidth, hell even Tumblr for the short ficlet stuff that only gets posted here. Because even if the website it self isn't profiting, (AO3 for example), the companies that sold them their server hardware made a profit. Since utilities are privatized, the electric company that runs those servers are making a profit. IF YOU PRINT IT ON YOUR PRINTER AND PUT IT IN A 3 RING BINDER, the paper, printer, and ink manufacturers made a profit from your dinky little print out. The companies that build all the parts for your computer or your smartphone made a profit on your portal to the internet, who profits from your monthly subscription, just like your electric company profits from the power it takes to run your pc or charge your phone battery. IT'S A SLIPPERY FUCKING SLOPE, AND YOU NEED TO LEARN WHEN TO BACK AWAY FROM THE LEDGE.

We live in a Capitalist Hellscape, and if a company could figure out how to charge you to breathe and for every single beat of your heart, they'd fucking do it. So get off your goddamn high horses with this "wELL SoMEonE iS makINg PrOFit" bullshit. Or if you truly believe that, shut off every account you own, turn off your utilities, and go live in the woods and make up your own goddamn stories, which you can only share orally to the local wildlife. They give kudos by biting you and giving you rabies.

(not to mention; these assholes don't go after fanartists who are ABSOLUTELY making a profit off their work. but noooo, Flirty can't format a fic for print and allow other people to pay for the printing service and shipping, while never seeing a penny of that herself, despite all of the GODDAMN WORK I HAVE PUT INTO IT, WRITING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE INCLUDED FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufucky--)

[avelera]

Maintaining Scope of Violence in Your Story's World

I saw an interesting discussion in the Baldur's Gate 3 subreddit, commenting how a player's immersion was broken when a version of the player character, known as "The Dark Urge", is apparently to blame for a particularly brutal murder and yet the companion characters don't turn on him/her/them immediately. The commenter was baffled given the brutality of the killing. Yet many replies pointed out that other members of the party are also murderers or tapdancing on the edge of committing atrocities, not to mention other mitigating circumstances that it would be spoilers to go into.

This got me thinking about scope of violence in genre fiction and how, on top of all the other difficult jobs the writer has before them, establishing what level of violence is "commonplace" vs "shocking" can be a surprisingly delicate process.

(Cut for length. Includes references to Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, John Wick, and NBC's Hannibal in an exploration of how to establish the scope and scale of on-screen violence. TW for discussions of violence against children in shows like GoT and HotD, though it is largely in abstract terms.)

I'm reminded of "House of the Dragon" (HotD) which, I must confess, I found to have rather patchy and uneven writing.

One moment in HotD that I found rather dissonant, shall we say, was when a child of the nobility loses his eye in a brawl with other children. His mother, an aristocrat, is understandably horrified and enraged. However, some of the threats she makes to equally powerful Houses over the incident feel, dare I say, disproportionate to the event, given that her threats could lead to the world as she knows it being plunged into civil war, all over what amounts to a tussle between children, albeit one that ends in a particularly gruesome manner.

On the one hand, any modern mother likely would completely freak out at such an appalling injury as a lost eye from a knife fight between children. That would be a major shock to a modern community, where such violence is quite rare. And in fairness, the aristocrats of the world of "Game of Thrones" and HotD by extension are largely insulated by their privilege from the day to day violence we see portrayed in the series. If anyone was realistically going to have a modern response to a child's maiming, it would be the sheltered daughter of a noble house with regards to her beloved child.

However, as understandable as her reaction might be to modern viewers and to those who take into account her sheltered upbringing, in my mind, the show's narrative wobbled there in terms of establishing the level of violence that is considered commonplace in the world of HotD/GoT. In the first season of Game of Thrones, we famously saw a child pushed out of a window, permanently disabled and left in a coma for months, and while this is a major event that creates a great deal of tension and conflict, ultimately the family after their attempts at individual revenge the fact is they can't start a civil war over this single event. So in a way we're sort of left with: this is just a thing that happens that we have to suck up and deal with, even if certain individuals might wish to and continue to pursue a personal vendetta. Couple that with commoner children being murdered and the deaths going completely unremarked upon by wider society, we're left with the impression of a world in which brutality, even brutality against children which would grind a modern community to a halt, is simply an ugly and relatively common part of life. A life with so much ugliness and personal violence that it really almost gets lost amidst all the other horrors.

Which makes the HotD mother's reaction feel... disproportionate. Not in relation to her child's suffering, which is entirely understandable, but her view of what retaliation constitutes a proportional response comes across as hysterical. Too modern. Children are horrifically injured in the GoT/HotD world all the time. Frankly, by comparison, a lost eye is almost minor compared to a loss of mobility in a rigorously martial world, access to which Bran lost with his fall. We don't get as good of a set up of what the conflicting morals of this world are, we don't get the comparison between commoner and noble children as clearly as in GoT, we don't really get all the conflicting views of "When is it normal to start a civil war over a child's injury?" - the sense of scope and scale of violence and how we and the characters are supposed to react to it... wobbles.

Along these lines, I've also pointed out that in shows like NBC's Hannibal, the show is scrupulously careful about not really referencing global events like wars. In my mind, there's a simple reason for that. Your average drone attack on civilians in the Middle East kills more innocent people by accident than Hannibal Lecter has ever killed in his entire murderous career. Compared to weapons of war, one murderous serial killer is barely a rounding error in terms of death and human suffering. So the show has to remain almost claustrophobically intimate so we never get confronted with the "So what?" of the individual death and human suffering Hannibal and the other serial killers bring about on a very close, personal basis. The horror style is meant to force us to imagine ourselves if we were the victims (or the killer) in these incredibly intimate murders. If our suffering was writ large. If every individual death was massively significant. But this is in contrast with real world mass casualty events which would dwarf many times all of the deaths in the Hannibal show combined.

As a final example, the moment the first season of "True Detective" lost me was when the value of a single life also wobbled dramatically. The conceit of the show is that a single murder, or a half dozen at most, murders of young white women is worthy of a major, multi-year investigation. Yet when the investigation inadvertently leads to an outbreak of violence in a predominantly black community, shown almost immediately to kill more people (in front of their children, even) than were lost in the entire murder spree of white women that's being investigated, the show didn't seem to care at all. Individual white female victims were worthy of a breathless investigation into their untimely loss, but twice that number of black people killed in an outbreak of violence directly linked to the investigation didn't even seem worthy of commentary or reflection at all. The value of a single human life was no longer consistent. If these deaths aren't worthy of justice, then why should I care about the few individual deaths being investigated?

As with any measuring of scope in fiction, it's very hard for the author to do alone. It really is an instance where an outside pair of eyes is incredibly valuable.

But things to keep in mind while crafting a narrative around violence is just how much are readers or viewers supposed to be alarmed by individual acts of violence. It's common and indeed necessary for modern media to establish the rules of its world. Even stories nominally set in "our" world actually do almost as much worldbuilding as any fantasy tale in this respect. In a cop drama where each episode is built around a single murder, we need to inhabit a world where a single murder is worthy of dozens of people spending time and resources bringing the killer to justice. In such a world, a mass casualty event of several deaths should be shocking. To this end, like in NBC's Hannibal, it's probably best to avoid mentions of mass casualty events caused by war or natural disasters.

By contrast, an action film like John Wick might place less value on individual deaths (beyond the motivating deaths of a single dog, which is thoroughly commented on within the story as feeling disproportionate and therein lies much of what makes the plot so unique. I'd argue it is also the cutest dog ever born, but I digress). We're not going to see a lurid headline, "John Wick murders 26 local men in cold blood, read about this tragic loss along with quotes by their devastated wives and children on page 6". To a certain extent, the violence there is meant to be just shocking enough to thrill, but we're not meant to get too invested in the details of the actual body count.

And, to go even more extreme, in war or disaster movies, we see or have narrated that thousands have died at a time. Again, to go back to Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon, one reason it's hard to see the mother's reaction to her child's maiming as anything but a bit disproportionate is because we see with such brutality hundreds if not thousands of men, women, and children dying directly or indirectly as a result of war. While it's understandable that a mother would burn the world down for an injury to her child, we're not well placed to agree with or sympathize with her reactions on the broader scale, in terms of retribution that would lead to war, against a backdrop of brutal mass casualty events in the thousands where even more families are devastated and more children injured or killed.

As a final, positive word on the Game of Thrones universe, the early seasons of the GoT were actually very good at controlling the audience's reaction to the scope of violence. Namely, the Battle of the Blackwater sticks out in my mind. The world of GoT is so grounded in the mud, in ugly, personal but intimate violence done with hands or blades, otherwise rudimentary weapons, that the first time we see an explosion on a near-modern scale feels as genuinely breathtaking to modern eyes as it might have to the Medieval-eseque eyes of that world. Yet there are movies chock-full of explosions where the explosions lose impact and importance, become background noise, because they're simply one of many. By rigorously tamping down and limiting the scope and type of violence to largely hand to hand combat, Game of Thrones set up a moment where modern warfare-style explosions are awe-inspiring. Against that backdrop, the appearance of fire-breathing dragons on the battlefield is also arresting, though their capabilities would likely be dwarfed by a modern fighter jet and many viewers of GoT would be familiar with films where the scope and scale of violence is much bigger and more explosive. It feels big in GoT because the scope and scale has been so small to that point.

Once you as a writer have established the modernity of your violence, the scope and scale of it, the average body count, the importance of a single human life, it's important to stick to it. If a character has a differing view, then they should be noted as having it by the narrative. A grizzled war veteran might shrug at a small town murder investigation of a single individual, but a sleepy town might lose its mind over it. In the modern world, the lives of children are put on the highest pedestal, but once you establish in your world that some children's lives are of lower value, then showing a mother act with an understandable modern sensibility of horror and outrage still needs to be commented on so we understand where her reaction falls within her society, especially if it's in contrast. That is what teaches us how to watch and appreciate the narrative choices as they're meant to be appreciated.

[scribbleseas]

an indignant pawn story: the door

Description: Taking place hours after the events of The Indignant Pawn, Ciel Phantomhive anxiously awaits an update from the room in front of him.

Warnings: extreme grief, violence, mentions of blood, crying, regrets, laughing at really inappropriate times, just really really sad, angst & no comfort.

Author’s Note: Hi, Everyone!

For those of you who might be seeing my work for the first time, this is a spinoff short from my first complete fan fiction: The Indignant Pawn! I suggest checking it out if you are interested in a hitwoman/runaway royalty!reader x Ciel Phantomhive, a lot of deception, fierce enemies to lovers, and a couple that will fight the world for each other. If that sounds cool to you, I highly suggest heading over to the masterlist linked below before you read this.

Anyway, I hope you like this! Even though it’s a little depressing, lol. In all fairness, an explanation was asked of me. I work for ya’ll.

Happy Reading!

Stay Alive,

Dan

THE INDIGNANT PAWN MASTERLIST

MAY 13TH, 1895

SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN, GERMANY

For the first time in eight years, tears ran down Ciel Phantomhive’s cheeks. His throat was raw. His nose was running. A tumultuous combination of rage and grief tore at his heart as it beat in his chest. It worked overtime. His lungs worked overtime as his breaths came in ragged inhales, forcing air in, forcing air out. A forming headache throbbed in his temples.

Crying changes nothing, he reminded himself. Crying wouldn’t repair the damage in Y/n’s chest. Crying wouldn’t have stopped the bullet that was meant for him— it was meant for him. There was no denying it.

And that’s what made his guilt gnaw at him. He should have been bleeding. Dying. It was his adversary, his bullet, and his inaction that allowed Y/n to get shot.

“My Lord,” Sebastian started, only for Ciel to silence him with a glance before fixating his stare on the door. Don’t you dare speak to me, you traitor.

“At the very least, you should change, sir,” Sebastian was the only one to speak in the waiting room. Everyone else sat in silence, save for Lizzie’s sniffling. The room smelled of antiseptic and it was cold, but nobody complained. Nobody moved.

Ciel ignored the suggestion. He stared ahead at the door separating him from the operating room. From Y/n. If he could trade his place for hers, he would. It should have been him. It should have been. What was Y/n thinking?

She wasn’t thinking. She was selfless, protecting him on instinct.

She was selfless….And the world was cruel.

She didn’t deserve this.

He did. He should have protected her on instinct— but his weren’t nearly as swift as hers. It hurt to admit, but there was no other explanation.

“Ciel, he’s right,” Lizzie tried. “Your clothes are…” she said weekly, unsure of how to remind Ciel that he was covered in Y/n’s blood; and that his wedding suit was soiled with the bride’s blood. There was even a red tint on his hands, the sick smell of iron on them, no matter how Lizzie tried to clean them off for him. He didn’t care about his hands or his clothing.

Y/n was likely dying. How could he think to change when he could lose her?

After she lost consciousness, the medic arrived and did all he could to stabilize her before there was no choice but to transfer her to the nearest hospital for emergency surgery. As the medical field expanded (especially in Germany), surgeons liked to make teaching lectures out of every surgery. However given the high-profile victim and near-impossible condition Marie was in, the hospital ensured her procedure was private.

To them, it would be Princess Marie of Schleswig-Holstein dying. Only the real Marie had already been dead for months before then!

The irony made the corner of his mouth twitch, and a heartbroken cackle threatened to rip out of his sore throat before Lizzie said his name again, sobering him

“…Ciel?”

“Elizabeth. Honestly,” Ciel warned flatly. The oak door separating the waiting room from the sterile operating room was beginning to antagonize him. By now, Ciel committed most of its knots, age lines, indents— even the tarnish on the brass knob. He detested that door. He wanted to kick it off its hinges…almost as much as he wanted to kick his demon’s head off his shoulders. Stomp on the severed head. That. Deceitful. Bastard.

He needed to punish that wretch for utterly disobeying his order. They had a bloody contract for a bloody reason, did they not?

“I’m sorry, Ciel,” Lizzie took a sharp inhale, chastened. She pursed her lips and released them. Her wary eyes lingered on him for a beat longer, concerned for him. She watched him strike Sebastian so hard that his knuckles started bleeding. And then, Ciel spent half the carriage ride laughing hysterically at her side. He’d laughed until his sides hurt and his cheeks pinched. He was laughing at the situational irony while his tears grieved its fallout. After all, Y/n only came into his life because she was tasked with killing him! And she was on a surgery table because she wanted to save his life!

Not to mention, she was sure Mariana would sabotage them. She was convinced. Ciel had reassured her in vain.

Herr intuition was perfect. Diego even warned them. They should have called off the wedding. The princess should never have to save the Earl— it was an affront to those childish tales she loved so much. It was a torture to be saved. It hurt less to be the martyr because they aren’t responsible for toiling in the changed world without them.

Ciel looked back to the door. Nothing lasts forever.

Someone you love is someone you can lose, Ciel recalled.“Someone I love could be someone I lost…” he mumbled in extension of the thought, tensing when he realized he spoke the latter aloud.

“I know, Ciel, but you should have something to eat, at least. Or have some water, or tea. You’ve been standing there for hours. Sit,” Ciel’s cousin reminded him, but he didn’t dignify it with a response. He couldn’t sit and eat. He wouldn’t.

“My Lord, I have an update…” the lead surgeon shouldered through the operating room’s door and into the waiting room. His face was marred with exhaustion, having performed a surgery so late into the night and without a break.

Ciel held his breath.

Please be alive, Y/n. I need you.

[moondal514]

Some fic reading numbers to wrap up 2023

(Yeah yeah I know I’ve posted a whole bunch of fic rec lists this week but this is the last one, I promise)

In 2023, I’d say my fandom habits could be summarized into this: 1) the AFTG brainrot finally eased back a bit so I could truly return to my default state of being a multi-fandom whore, 2) I went back on my bullshit of reading fics for fandoms I’m not in/haven’t thought about for many years, and 3) I’ve finally entered the danmei realm, years after everyone else around here lol (and if you listen carefully in the distance, you can hear the frustrated scream of my former roommate that I’ve pissed off by only just this year checking out and loving the stuff she rec’d for me to read/watch years ago lol).

In 2023, I bookmarked on ao3 1207 new fics read for 46 fandoms (though only about 850 are in my public bookmarks). The fandom I read the most for was MDZS, managing to unseat AFTG as my most read-for fandom this year, accounting for about 345 of those new bookmarks.

Below is a multi-fandom list of 10 of my favorites of all the fics I read in 2023. I limited myself to only choosing fics that are complete standalones cuz otherwise I prob wouldn’t be able to limit it to only 10.

In no particular order:

Fandom: Attack On Titan

The Means by calacreda

'He hears him say “Do not tell a soul, Levi” and wants to laugh. Tell anyone? To what end? So that others have the images that Levi now has running through his head; of grabbing hands and harness marks, hard words and soft lips, of lies upon lies upon lies in a desperate attempt to get to the truth?'

Levi begins to notice Erwin leaving HQ alone and not returning until the dead of night.

Slow-burn, pre-show Eruri.

This fic is here to commemorate the 4 days of absolute insanity in March I spent binge-reading hundreds of thousands of words by this writer despite me knowing barely anything about these characters

Fandom: Simon Snow

Where the Sand Meets the Sea by waterwings/ @amywaterwings

This is a world where magic has moved on.

Where stars fall from the sky.

Where time is less a linear progression and more a slow dance.

And where Simon and Baz start to switch places, which will—inevitably—change everything.

5th ever fic to make me cry (and 1st fic not in the AFTG fandom to make me cry, whoop), the kind of fic that really lingers with sticky fingers on the brain

Fandom: Word of Honor

Strange Pilgrims by inkmyname/ @inkmyname

“Can I have all the wine in the world?” “Yes.” “Can I have all the treasures in the ocean?” “Yes.” “Can I have all the stars in the sky?” And because it wasn’t in Zhou Zishu’s nature to deny Wen Kexing anything, he said yes. From the western mountains to the eastern seas. Some seventy years on, Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing wander together.

This fic had me chewing on drywall cuz it’s so good

Fandom: The Vinland Saga

neither sword nor crown by arahir/ @arahir

Canute does whatever he can to keep Thorfinn, though it might cost him everything.

“You want to kill me now.” The words steal his breath with their truth. Thorfinn looks at him, from under his filthy bangs, eyes piercing and bruised. Something in Canute’s chest flips over at that look, at how wounded he is. He’s broken. He’s been broken from the first moment they met, but now he’s lost even Askeladd to hold his pieces together. “But if you fight me like this, it’s not fair. You have to wait until I get stronger. Be my guard until then, and I’ll duel you, warrior to warrior.” Thorfinn’s gaze is unflinching. Canute reaches behind him and pulls the dagger from the folds of his fur-lined cloak. The blade is a part of Thorfinn, like the crown is a part of Canute, now. He hands it over, hilt first. “Or, you can kill me today. Right now, right here.”

Wouldn’t be me unless there was at least one amazing historical fiction-esque fic, from a fandom I’m technically not in, on this list

Fandom: All For the Game

If Suddenly You Forget Me by sambutwithbooks

There’s a ring in the bag they give him, along with his soiled uniform.

The blood doesn’t bother him, even if his stomach clenches as he remembers that it’s his-it's the ring on a chain that snags his attention and holds it.

A wedding ring.

----------

Fifteen years post-canon, an accident on the court wipes Neil and their life together from Andrew's memory. It takes a while for him to find his way back to it.

Made every criticism I’ve ever had of the amnesia trope die a slow and miserable death (also 4th ever fic to make me cry)

Dream clouds, ghost ground (I’ve been looking at the sky to show me where I went wrong) by Ateiluj/ @awildtei

Cass Spear deals with her son’s death, the truths that it reveals, and how it all reshapes her past with Andrew.

One of the most incredible character studies I’ve ever read across any fandom, period

nocturnal animals by animediac/ @jaywalkers

“He was an addict,” Taylor says roughly, turning away to unplug the blender. “He wouldn’t accept help and he didn’t care who he hurt with it by the end.” “He was our brother,” Abby says, sadly. “I know,” Taylor tells her. “That was the worst part." — Memory takes the graveyard shift. Abby Winfield works nights.

Absolutely devastating Abby Winfield backstory that had me curling up into a ball on the floor

Fandom: Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Tarnished Gold by Prim_the_Amazing/ @primtheamazing

Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him.

The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life.

Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy.

-

Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.

This fic had me saying “just one more chapter” long into the night until I was literally staring down the epilogue at some ungodly morning hour

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Whereat the Two Swore On the Field of Death a Deathless Love by horsecrazy/ @cbk1000

In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy. But not quite in the way you think. 'The Once and Future King'/Merlin mashup; now with 50% more gay.

One of the most incredible things I’ve ever read in my life, this writer is single-handedly responsible for reviving my Merthur obsession 3 years after it’s mostly died down

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi

我拿青春赌明天 / I’ll wager my youth against tomorrow by tombenough_and_continent/ @hunxi-after-hours

The dust of this mortal world cannot fall upon him—he is a strand-dancer, a weaver of time’s tapestry, dispatched by Gusu Lan’s Symphony to climb upwards into the knots and gnarls of alternate timelines and coax them towards the future in which Gusu reigns, benevolent and peaceful and supreme—the future in which Lan Wangji himself is sung into existence. He is here to change the past and deliver the future into being. It would not be wrong to call him fate. (or, This is How You Lose the Time War, but make it wangxian)

Still screaming crying throwing up over this fic cuz nothing gets me quite like a beautifully written mash-up of 2 of my fave pieces of media

-

Thank you to all you fic writers out there for getting me through another year. Cheers to a new year of more wonderful writing!

[manonamora-if]

February Check-In

From here on out, we should be back on track - IRL be damned (crossing fingers with that). Unless someone throws another wrench...

Anyway, let's not think about the bummer stuff...

Here's to a hopefully "normal" month with stuff actually being checked off a list!

Onto the usual index:

Recap of last month’s progress

IF Events in the Next Month

Plan for the next month

Still long post under the break. If you want a mini version, head over to itch.io!

January Progress

Welp... there wasn't much of a list in the January Check-in, since it was the retrospective, which included the yearly plan. Still, I did make a mini one on itch. Put together we'd get:

Still play more IF and maybe review. ✅

Finish the edits of Harcourt Ch5 ✅ and coding ❌

Fix one of the semi-completed games: ❌either the Egg parser or TRNT (and make it a proper parser)

Complete the Seed/Shuffle-Comp entry✅

Honestly, not bad... The first one, obviously is done and dusted. IFDB says I posted 60+ reviews in January - covering the Short Game Showcase, the ShuffleComp, and the Recipe Jam helped quite a bit. And that also meant... I'm 3rd in the Reviewer ranking! Only 100 more to second place...

MelS and I finally stopped playing ping-pong with the editing of Harcourt (later than we wanted...), and I'm currently sitting down to edit the whole maze. I had hoped to be done by the end of this month, but it wasn't feasible... It was close - I only have half a dozen passages to code, to check it works, and do the formatting. I used to laugh at his complaining of working all the rooms for this maze (because he chose to do that many), but now I'm the one suffering... Don't do mazes... Or don't do 30+-room mazes... (I'm not joking here) Also: If all goes well, March/April should be editing of Chapter 6, June/July coding of Chapter 6 (+ re-edits of previous chapters), August/September beta/edits, October? completed game.

As for the ShuffleComp, I made it realllll close to the deadline. But (not so) strangers in the night was completed just in time! Aaaannnddd, got 1st place in the Use of Songs category! Yay me :D Also submitted to the SeedComp! and the Zach Jam.

As for fixing the parsers.... whomp whomp, didn't manage that.

Buuuutt:

I made another parser! Not Another Sad Meal is a slice-of-life cooking sim of easy difficulty (and clickable elements for help!)

Also made a Zine! CTRL+SHIFT+ZUT+ALORS Lost content meets weird technology. I probably will never make this game, but you can use it as inspiration if you want!

And spent a few days working on a collaborative virtual card for a friend. While that will never be made public (for obvious reasons), You can find the basic interface [here].

Also won kuddos of best puzzle for An Eggcellent Preparation (even though it kinda broken)!

So yeah... not huge updates for projects, but some good progress and a few mini-new games. I'm not expecting people to check those out... But it would be neat if you did!

What’s happening in February?

There's always something happening in the IF world. I don't think I ever find all that happens anyway... but. Here's the ones I know!

The Queer Vampire Game Jam ends in about three weeks. Got a vampire/human story with a LGBT+ cast? Then this is the event for you! (unranked) Also they are doing a fundraising/matching donation with submissions!

Obviously @neointeractives got you covered for Valentine’s with the Smoochie Jam: it’s all about kisses, love and romance (unranked) - Be also on the look out for the next Neo-Interactives mini-jam which is happening mid-March.

The SeedComp! (Sprouting) ends at the end of February. Come transform someone’s idea or asset into a new IF game! See @seedcomp-if for more info ;) (ranked)

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2024 se termine dans un mois! Viendez faire des histoires en français!! <3 (ranked, duh)

The Spring Thing is waiting for your intent to participate until March 1st! After that, the submissions are due in April (also ranked)

Got a cool talk idea regarding Interactive Fiction, narration, or gameplay? Consider submitting a proposal for this year’s Narrascope! They are still looking for people!!!!

Note: @neointeractives will have jams all year long. One a month/or so. And the next Planting Round of @seedcomp-if will start as soon as the results are dropped.

The PLANtm for February

Shortest month, and one busy months in events (I'm at the head of two... what am I DOING WITH MY LIFE....)... So much to do, so little time. But also, ONE EXTRA DAY THIS MONTH! :D

What are we hoping to do this month?

Play more games! Because there are a bunch of jams happening and a backlog of games I'm trying to clear. Also I want to get to that second IFDB spot! (1st won't ever be attainable...)

Finish the Code Ch5 of Harcourt. This is attainable. This is doable. I will finish... because I am already 80% done. MelS is working on Chapter 6 for this month - hoping to have a rough draft for me to check too by the end of the month...

Finish fixing The Roads Not Taken. This is your month. I swear I am manifesting it hard. This is happening. I will finish you. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you....

Jam Entry number 685470w8698... probably. Maybe do a Queer Vampire/Smoochie Combo. Maybe even a French Comp game?

ALSO: I will probably do an another AMA mid-Feb.

~

The 2024 To-Do List:

New year, new list. A more feasible one, according to January-Me.

The hopefully maybe easy to handle To-Do:

fix the bugs in EDOC + overall the French version to match

fix the bugs of TRNT + find a way to add the missing pieces (giving up on the translation)

fixing the interface of LPM and the popups + check animal interactions

figure out the One-Button JavaScrip/jQuery issue...

edit the loading screens of the completed tiny games to include the program/format logo at least.

The 'Need a Bunch of Content to update but it's planned!' To-Do:

Update my website (bunch new title - also I don't think the logo clicky thing work...) + redo my itch page

Finish TTATEH (MelS dependent - this year should be it - for real)

Finish Exquisite Cadaver (half-way mark by this summer - manif)

Finish P-Rix - Space Trucker (main path at least)

Update CRWL (it's been almost two years... I'm getting ashamed)

The Unlikely But it Would be Dope To-Do

Finish The Dinner as it was planned (and translate)

Finish In the Blink of an Eye as it was planned (and retranslate)

Finish The Rye in the Dark City

Fixing TTTT (at least fixing, maybe try adding some storylets)

And finally The 'It's impossible, but one can wish' TO-DO:

Remaster SPS IH (if I managed to start this after completing the rest... I'm going to eat a whole sheet cake).

Start the IFComp project (2025? Might end up being a ST?)

[mirror-to-the-past]

More (Apparently) KH3:Remind and Melody of Memory Stuff

Spiritually pounding on the windows of the Square Enix building- what do you MEAN I find out via YouTube that there's story cutscenes locked behind those egregious Data fights?? (That I'll personally beat... someday...)

(I also just went ahead and watched all the cutscenes for Melody of Memory, because I didn't want to play through a $60 rhythm game, sorryyy)

But first, Re:Mind and its sneaky, sneaky cutscenes...

Everything with Yozora has me Bonkers. I can't believe they've done this. Echoing Sora's first line in the series "I've been having these weird thoughts lately" through his own side of the story, him saying that he doesn't look like how he appears, the 'why do you know that name,' the "save Sora" while immediately drawing a gun on the man in question?? I'm just... *screaming noises* They're bringing everything together with the fiction versus reality stuff they have going on, and guys, I get SO excited when some games go meta. I'm squealing like a little girl; I'm ecstatic. Despite Sora being in (what I now know as Quadratum) and the background of the Yozora fight reflecting that, I can't help but wonder if it was another internal fight due to the arena switching to Sora's Heart Station for a second, akin to Roxas' fight in KH2.

And the music was so pretty... Yozora has a gorgeous theme. The prettier the battle theme, the more insane the KH fight, I say.

Also Riku was dreaming of Sora for a year. Lmao. He just... didn't say anything about it, while everyone was busting their asses. I'll be honest, literally the only way I could take that is that he dismissed his dreams as irrelevant- ah yes, dreaming of Sora? Nothing crazy to see here. Oh, Riku.

Also more importantly than Riku's angst deal- KAIRI WAS LAUNCHED INTO SPACE WHEN SHE WAS A PRESCHOOLER TO ACT AS A KEYBLADE WIELDER HOMING DEVICE, JESUS CHRIST. Kairi 🤝 Megamind 🤝 potentially Superman (I'm not a comics guy):

Getting launched out of their home planets into space in order to escape the destruction of their worlds, given vague and confusing scenarios and instructions to adapt to once they find a new planet, but they really just wanna chill and be loved and keep people safe.

And she's gonna train with Aqua! :D Another professional at getting launched into other worlds (realms). I hope she bonds with Ventus, as I've recently been made aware of their similarities in disposition, and how they are treated by others (hearts of pure light, designated by their groups as "the one who should stay home/be protected", wavering self confidence in their own abilities and self worth). Additionally, the hilarious potential scenarios of Kairi being like "yeah, and my favorite color's actually-" and Ventus interrupts with "Purple. I know," because the man essentially vicariously lived Sora's childhood. I'm super stoked for future Kairi screentime! Loved when she saw Xehanort in her memories and was like 'I don't care if you're a memory, data, manifestation of my heart or any other thing- I hate you, get out of my life forever. Hugs and kisses, die.' Like, 10/10, girl. Fair. Kairi's a volcano wrapped in a sweet package ready to snap at someone.

Riku's like "Y'know Ansem, I'm gonna miss you... 🥺"

And Sora's like "Xemnas, stooop all the violence. How can you take advantage of people with hearts? You should feel your feelings. You're valid, bestie. ☺️"

Kairi's no bleeding heart for baddies, she just wants everyone to get off her damn case, lol!

Also LOL at the fairy godmother of all people being the one to ship Riku off to Quadratum after Sora. My Cinderiku jokes (as well as my previous KH3 post's blurb about Riku determinedly walking into the ocean to find Sora) may not be completely unwarranted, now. Like, Miss 'specialty in dreams?' Miss "If you'd lost all your faith, I couldn't be here. And here I am." Not even to mention "a dream is a wish your heart makes," a very relevant lyric for this set of circumstances, if I do say so myself. I guess that's just gonna be another song I love and sing to myself that now makes me think of KH. 🤷 There's worse things I suppose, for example, like Buddy Holly being stuck in my head for three days straight and making me feel like I'm trapped listening to my uncle's records (thanks, Good Omens).

I ended up re-watching "Cinderella" for the first time in a while because of that part of Re:Mind and MoM. The KH association of the part with Fairy Godmother's appearance is now semi-heartwrenching, given the context of her appearance in "Cinderella," as well:

You have the vocalizing chorus throughout the opening of the scene acting as a callback to Cinderella's "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" song as well as reflecting her inner thoughts, and she has a dialogue with it while she sobs alone in the garden:

Chorus: Whatever you wish for, you keep...

Cinderella: "Oh, no... no, it isn't true."

Chorus: Have faith in your dreams and someday... your rainbow will come smiling through!

Cinderella: "It's just no use. No use at all."

Chorus: No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing...

Cinderella: "I can't believe! Not anymore..."

Chorus: The dream that you wish... *lyric trails off, unfinished*

Cinderella: "There's nothing left to believe in... nothing..."

[Fairy Godmother materializes next to her]

FG: "Nothing my dear? Oh, now you don't really mean that."

Cinderella: "Oh, but I do-"

FG: "Nonsense, child! If you lost all your faith, I couldn't be here, and here I am!"

[the violin and cello come in to finish the last part of the lyric] "...will come true."

Beautiful scene, really. The chorus assisting the animation is delightful... I watched Bambi and Lady and the Tramp (Bella Notte <3) a lot growing up because I loved that old-timey choral work. So dreamy...

Additional funny/sweet bit: I like how Mickey was freaking out to the point of being pinned down over Riku being unceremoniously dropped into Quadratum via Fairy Godmother's spontaneity and enabling.

'You sent my son to the big city ALONE?! He could get mugged, he could get lost, he could get hate-crimed, he could-'

*jump cut to Riku, and he's trying to gauge the value of Earth Money by spying on hot dog stands. He sheds his first known tear of the series by trying to figure out public transit routes*

Anyway, in the words of Cid:

"But what happens next?!"

[boyfridged]

What’s your opinion of fanon Jason? I fucking hate him but I’m curious about what you think since you’ve been posting about him recently. The pit madness stuff with Jason in canon is insanely ableist and reeks of abuse apologism in my opinion. To me, part of the appeal of his character is that him doing all of those awful things is entirely his choice and making so that it isn’t fully his fault is both unfair to him and all the people he hurt.

i’m sorry if any of that comes across as unnecessarily blunt but i talked ab it plenty before and each time i have been misunderstood so i want to be clear.

i guess the general difference in my perception of jason being overly violent while displaying psychotic symptoms (because i believe this is what we are talking about?) versus reaction of most people is that i don’t think it’s primarily an issue of abuse apologia. i get that this sentiment is based on approaching the topic from an angle most of the audience is familiar with. however, i believe if you take the problem of ableism seriously, the excessive abuse should be just taken out too. it makes no sense without that context anyway. what is the reason to claim that he acted violently with no motive and while completely sane if it says nothing about his attitude and the story whatsoever? the idea of him targeting random victims is already rooted in the concept of his delusional state; so just throw it out, or else the readers will go back to the conclusion of clinical insanity. unless you want him to be an inherently cruel person – and that’s just not a type of characterisation that is to my taste (i have too much fondness for his original place in the narrative to entertain it. i’d rather think it’s something learned.)

that is not to say that i think all of his violent acts should be written out; but the specific ones most associated with all the psychosis-esque behaviour (like the so-called titan’s tower incident for example.) this is also not to say i think the motif of “madness” should be completely erased; it can be approached in fiction without using the language and showcasing specific behaviour that point at real symptoms and tie them to aggressive actions.

so, regarding whether or not everything he does is fully his choice– i think it’s a bit of a reductive presumption and question in general. i’m sorry for getting philosophical but most discussions of autonomy in the field presume that the circumstances someone finds themselves in already limit autonomy a fair share. and at the end of the day, jason’s position in the narrative and in the world he finds himself in post-res are so obscure that it is the point that he doesn’t get much choice in how he communicates his grief. and grief and madness are themes that blur into each other too. i think, very much like in hamlet, the question of whether the protagonist is sane or mad doesn’t actually matter much because the extreme circumstances call into question if there’s a “normal” response to this situation at all.

if you want to be realistic about it, you have to ask how much someone who has been raised (in good faith and not fully intentionally) to believe it’s their duty to fight criminals and protect people only to get brutally murdered, resurrected, kidnapped and finally given access to assassin training at 16/17 can be believed to be a fully self-aware and autonomous person.

if you want to think of it in terms of what the story is about, at least the initial stages of it (so the lost days & utrh for example, as well as countdown, if you will) then it doesn’t truly matter that much. this is something that can hold weight if there’s talk of redemption – and in the narrative he’s not alive enough for it as things stand anyway (and sometimes he’s just written as a very much redeemed corpse without any significant build-up leading to it.) to me, a perfect story would address his wrongdoings, but also highlight it's not the core of his personality; but still, this is such thin ice to walk on with all the classism and ableism inherent in his development as a "villain" and "anti-hero."

and as for fanon – i don’t like the takes which justify his actions by “pit madness” etc, and i hate the tag “enemy to caretaker” with my whole heart, but honestly, i also don’t mind when some of these actions are erased (which canon does a lot too, depending on who is behind the portrayal and what they want him to be). this is simply because, again, too many of them are rooted in writing that has been historically full of classist and ableist influence. and to reference one of my recent posts, as much as i enjoy some of the red hood content and the tragic cycle he drives himself into, i do prefer him being softer and kinder. this is who he was meant to be — his story starts in the place of batman’s parents’ murder but the beauty of it is that it’s ia story of hope and compassion that was supposed to overwrite that tragedy.

[negative-speedforce]

Random OC Questions for... hm, we'll go with Pippa and Max, just to switch things up

⁉️💭📖🚩😛💯

⁉️ - Most scared & confused they've ever felt

Pippa's brother, who was a helicopter pilot, suffered a critical engine failure while transporting her father (who was a doctor) and their crew on a humanitarian mission halfway across the globe, and they both were killed instantly in the crash. This happened while Pippa was under anesthesia for her bottom surgery, so she had to wake up to the news that the last of her immediate family had died. This almost broke Pippa, who had lost her mother to sarcoma as a little kid, and was now completely alone in the world.

The most terrifying day of Max's life was in Junior year, when he followed his boyfriend and their friends to investigate a robbery at Mercury Labs in the middle of the night. It was there that they encountered the Reverse-Flash for the first time, who was mostly just confused as to what his daughter was doing there, but had to scare the kids into backing off in order to both stay in character and also get the tachyon device he was trying to steal. Eobard scared Max out of his pants, and he swears to this day that he is never going to mess with a speedster again.

💭 - If they went to the world of one of your other WIPs, how would they react to the environment? Would they like the other cast?

(I'm going to go with my angel-verse because I rarely ever talk about it)

Pippa would honestly thrive in that universe. She'd get along very well with Ellis and Gabriella, the two main characters from that WIP, with her kindhearted personality. She'd probably end up somehow getting into heaven so she could yell at god for smiting Ellis, since they were only trying to do the right thing.

Max would probably end up completely destroying both Heaven and Hell because of how corrupt they are. Somehow, this 20-something gay anarcho-socialist kid would be able to kill god all by himself, while somehow also managing to hold down a 9-5 that he hates. The cast of that WIP probably wouldn't like him much, and him as well.

📖 - What's your OCs favorite book [either in our world or theirs, whichever]? Would they like the book they're in?

Pippa loves shitty grocery store bodice ripper romance novels. Since I don't read that crap, I'm not sure what her favorite book would be called, but it'd probably be something like "Forbidden Touch of the Werewolf Pirate Laird" or something like that, and it would have a picture of abs on the cover. I don't think Pippa would like the narrative she's in though, it'd be much to angsty for her likings.

Max isn't really a big reader, so I guess it would be some kind of engineering or robotics manual? He's not a huge fan of fiction, so it's hard to choose a specific favorite book for him. As to whether he'd like the book he's in, I think he'd be fine with it, but slightly annoyed that he isn't the main character.

🚩 - Their biggest red flag?

Pippa cannot set a boundary to save her own life, and she has a tendency to give so much of herself that she gets burnout and can't do anything for like, a week.

Max doesn't think about other people's feelings, only the big details. He's doing the right thing because it's going to lead to a better world, despite how many innocent people die as collateral damage, because god forbid Max Seng be wrong about something.

😛 - If given the option, would they rather know WHEN they die, or HOW they die? Why would they pick that option & not the other? How would they react in each scenario?

Pippa would rather know neither, since she'd probably feel like knowing either would completely take over her life. However, she'd rather know when she dies, that way she can prepare accordingly and be ready for it.

Max would rather know how he dies, that way he can figure out how to evade it and cheat death yet again.

💯 - They're in the last book you read. How would they fair in that world? Would they like the main cast?

(The last book I read was This Wicked Fate by Kaylnn Bayron)

I think Pippa would not be having a good time in that universe, with the dark subject matter, angsty tone, and such. She probably wouldn't get along with the main cast well, considering that her hopelessly optimistic personality would clash with the story's tone.

Max wouldn't fare that well, considering that he HATES magic and relies 100% on technology, and the universe of that story revolves heavily on magic. However, he'd fit in fairly well with the main cast, considering that he has a similar personality to many of the main characters (determined, realist, passionate, badass, etc)

[writingquestionsanswered]

Would it be a major turn off if a character, in a world where almost everyone has magic, only had a few chances before they have to cause like actual bodily harm in order to continue using it?

Some additional context I have to justify it are that 1. It's almost OP and I need some things to balance it out. Like, it's literally immortality that's kinda like save points, just done so it isn't completely videogame style (since that world isn't a video game) 2. Most people's powers do have side effects. However, to be fair, they're supposed to make sense (e.g. former protagonist has fire powers, so she's also heat resistant but is naturally very hot, so cold hurts more before it heats up and she can't touch things that need cold because she can't just switch off the heat, or one that's probably more cliche but they've got super strength and don't know how much force they're actually applying, gentle to them still is pretty rough a lot of the time, etc), and I'm not sure if having to actually injure yourself is a good side effect to near-immortality 3. She also has a sort of healing ability doubled with it, where no matter how awful the injury it heals in 24 hours (like from light paper cut to the loss of a limb, it is always 24 hours, it just made more sense to me that way), so as long as she stops the bleeding she'll be fine the next day But then I feel like it's a bit too much since 1. She would lose any motive to use it - she doesn't worry about death, so with the injury and pain it'd likely just be like adding 0+-1 when you're trying to get 2 (if that makes sense), 2. She's in single-digits still, so it'd be a child harming themself because they don't want to die, which while the tone is definitely supposed to get dark at some point I feel like that might just be a bit much both to read and to write, and 3. There's already another balance in place - if she dies, she'll appear back at the last "save" (considering it's inspired by video games that's the quickest way to describe it), and will lose any memory or development that happened in-between. It also only lasts ~a month so that she won't be completely immortal, she has to keep redoing it if she wants to be. So she'd physically and mentally revert back to up to a month ago, in the exact place she was no matter what happened there in-between, no matter where she's been or what she's learned in-between. Still debating whether or not there should be a way to regain the memories or not.

I'm also not sure if I actually want to give her another reason to hesitate to use it, or if it's just because I like letting characters suffer in my head, but the story isn't going to just be in my head so I want it to be actually fun instead of just agony lol. I don't want my story to be too affected by my sadism exclusively reserved for fictional characters.

Sorry it's long and probably awkward, and that it probably has way too much info when I just needed a little bit, I just want to write my story (and current protagonist) decently and not be TOO harsh on the characters. While the way I wrote probably made it kinda clear which way I'm thinking of going, I just wanted an outsider opinion that I trust before choosing one way or the other. Sorry if it's too uncomfortable or morbid or anything, idk where else to ask and I'm embarrassed to ask people I know irl (personal issues 💀)

Thank you for reading this whole ask, sorry again about how long it is!

Bodily Harm as Consequence of Magic Use

I feel like "bodily harm" is really broad and random consequence of using magic. So... after a few uses, if the character uses magic again, their arm or leg just randomly breaks? Or a huge gash opens up on their back? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Typically, the consequences of magic are more logical:

-- Physical fatigue (lots of energy coursing through your body) -- Mental fatigue (extreme focus, quick thinking, mental stress) -- Loss of source (source of magic is limited so lost once used up) -- Harm to other (someone/something related is harmed by use)

You would typically choose one of these consequences (though physical and mental fatigue often go hand-in-hand), then the extent of the consequence is greater with the power/amount of magic used. In other words, a smaller spell has a smaller consequence. A bigger spell has a bigger consequence. A small spell would cause a little bit of physical exhaustion. A big spell would cause the person to pass out for a little while.

If you can find some way for the injuries to make sense, then you could still do that. But I would also add the consequence that injuries incurred via magic use don't heal in 24 hours. And while injured, no magic can be used. That way there's an actual cost to using magic too often. It's not just a superficial cost like an injury. They're putting themselves in the position of being powerless until the injury heals naturally.

I hope that helps!

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[comraderomeo]

Where Skin Ends Ch. 1

Updated Every Other Thursday (hopefully)

Foreword:

Hello and welcome. This is the first piece of fiction I'm posting anywhere public since grade school, and I'm pretty excited and nervous about it. It's about a lot of things, many unsettling and esoteric, and is set in the BattleTech universe. However, I'm trying to not get too overbearing on the lore, for everyone's sake (including my own). Also, fair warning: these characters are stolen from my other, more central projects, so don't be surprised if they show up in a completely different setting. All in all, thank you for having a look!

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: alcohol abuse, vague mental illness, vomit mention

"I had just one quick glimpse out the porthole, to see the frosted dot in the distance becoming slowly massive, before the alarm went off. Sirens and red lights flashing all around put me and my lance into a run toward the 'mech bay. We stripped to reveal our um... coolant vests, and scrambled up the ladders into the cockpits of our veritable killing machines. The 'techs sped through the startup checks and then my Hatchetman, Jester, came alive. I felt Her warming me in livid spite of my wellbeing. Then, the commander came in over the comms, 'get those asses in gear, Alpha Lance! We've got Marik ‘mechs at the drop zone, so break a leg!' Jester spun around in her bay, and the world went silent."

You spent two months running patrols on some planetoid so devoid of life it couldn't even be considered backwater. Though, the mining company operating there was scared to shit of the inter-House war that had just broken out, even when it had just been rumors and speculation, so it was good money that got better daily. The patrols were so desolate. You only had the massive snow drifts and whoever was on comms to keep you company the whole time. Being so alone was perfect.

"The bottom of the bay dropped out and sent me into the fray. I came in right on top of an Atlas (you know what that is right?), and embedded my axe directly in his cockpit. Those fuckers are tough though, so it threw me off, and I got a torso-full of lasers at close range. It wasn't enough to take me down, though, and I got another chop in with a blast from my own weapons. That's when the rest of my lance got a good shot, and the ‘mech was lost in a barrage of shells and missiles and lasers. But, shrouded in the smoke coming off his melting armor, he kept coming. I used my other arm to get up close and push the weapons in his torso off angle, pulling the Atlas into a grapple. That sent his autocannon shots wildly off, but his missiles still got a bad hit on one of my lancemates. I knew at that point it was do or die, so I shoved my torso cannon right up against his viewport, and boom!!"

House Marik had arrived in just one dropship and launched an assault on the mining complex. It must’ve been producing something important, because they sent a lot of firepower at you. You had been out on patrol at the time they first popped up on sensors, and while the rest of the crew scrambled, you made the right choice to beat a hasty retreat. The truth is, you never stood a chance. In the following skirmish, it took all the skill your lance could muster and losing your hatchet arm to take down a single assault ‘mech, and the engagement had just let the other enemies slip by and annihilate the target. You probably could have taken at least two more, but not without losses.

"The blast almost tore my arm clean off, but the Atlas went tumbling into the ground, quiet as the void. Then, we turned our sights to 'mech two, a slightly smaller one that was trying to flank us. It was a bitch to hit, but we adapted-"

You ran and left them to burn. Another city to ashes.

"Mat! What the hell are you on about!?"

Your surroundings come flooding back into focus. You're at a bar somewhere you can't quite remember right now. How many drinks has it been? Last count says two, but that's beyond doubtful now, making your ability to rattle off that story coherently a feat in itself. There's a woman opposite you at the table. She's picking at a scratch in the finish and is almost certainly checked out of the conversation. You're sure there was a reason you were telling her about this encounter, and that it's extremely important that you make it impressive. However, the lack of oxygen in your brain had lost that reason paragraphs ago. Ashe, the lancemate who interrupted your flow, is certainly less far gone than you and looks bemused. She continues, "If you're going to be spinning tall tales about our exploits, at least make them believable. Who the hell’s going to think you actually chopped an Atlas in half like death from above?"

You feel the heat of embarrassment overtake that of inebriation. She could have just stayed quiet, because you have a good ending planned out and everything. What's her problem anyway? She has enough friends to go bother in the company, and her boyfriend is like right over there… somewhere. The woman across from you, who you'd neglected to get the name of like a prick, looks up with a bit of surprise and chimes in, "Oh! Sorry, I was listening, promise. It's a nice story and all. I mean, nothing like what it's actually like on the front, from what I know, but it would make a good story for one of those pulpy war novels or something."

This makes you indignant. You huff and say something stupid, "And, how would you know?"

She smiles back at you, barely wounded, and replies in practiced rhythm, "Corporal Hannelore Geelen, 57th Lyran Armored. A pleasure to meet you, MechWarrior."

Ashe laughs her head off in the background, while you- Wait are you crying? Why are you crying!? Ashe and Hannelore both look at you in different flavors of mortification. You didn’t even do anything that bad, but now you're saying sorry over and over again, while insisting you were a complete asshole. Be thankful your spontaneous bout of sorrow is quiet enough to avoid the attention of the whole damned bar. Some fear of predatoriness has clearly flitted into your mind and been amplified by alcohol, since you keep apologizing for being a dick, and a bastard, and a whore and really any bad word you can think of, without a care for relevance. The pair of voices in the background started to sound like a chorus,

"Hey hey, it's ok. The story wasn't that bad."

"Mat, what the fuck? Are you ok?"

Et cetera.

Et cetera.

Then, after some quick consideration, Ashe says something akin to "fuck it" under her breath and scoops you up into a fireman's carry to whisk you out of the public eye. That's quite the blow to the barely smoldering embers of your self esteem, and as if to spite you a fifteenth time over, the corporal you had accidentally been trying to have sex with gets up and follows along with you. A brief conversation occurs in the twilight of your perception. It's just mumbling to you really.

"I'm very sorry for this, Corporal. I can take care of them from here."

"It's no problem. I was bored anyway. Plus, I'm sure they'll be better company sober."

You pass out after that, which is likely for the best.

The air flees your lungs, as if they were cursed. You cough and writhe on the grassy hill you had been dropped upon not too softly.

“…and you didn’t have to drop them.”

“Didn’t mean to, but they’ll live.”

They’re talking about you, probably. You still feel the embarrassment lingering from the bar, but there that anger, still present and bubbling to the top. Being manhandled out of a public breakdown is a disgrace, but despite your clouded take on things, it’s clearly your fault to begin with. The figures towering over you are out of focus and haloed in blinding artificial light. Your brain cobbles together a pretty, angelic simile, which just makes you more angry. 

“Are they always like this?”

“Only in port, usually. They're a normal amount of feckless in a ‘mech.”

A mumbling starts to burble out from your lips, growing louder as you focus control into your fricatives and plosives and whatnot. It gets to a point where one of the angels stops mid-sentence to address you, “Care to share with the class, Mat?”

You think very hard about the words you want to say next. They have to be finely crafted and powerful enough to win you a quiet evening to recover from whatever this was. You take a deep breath, steel your gaze, open your mouth and rasp just barely audibly, “Fuck you. I am prestige. I outrank everyone here.”

Why do you keep claiming honor that's not yours? It's insulting.

The blindingly bright angel snickers, and its duller yet equally holy counterpart cocks its head in curiosity. 

“Is that true, Ashe? I took you for lance commander.”

“Maybe it was, but sure as fuck hasn't been for a while now.”

“Really? How's that?”

“Well, back in the Third Succession War…”

You feel their insolence radiating into you. It's unthinkable that you, the champion but inches away from nobility, the company commander with so many medals you jangled like a children's toy, the only mechwarrior with more than half a brain cell in this whole system, could be so debased. But, who are you to argue with heaven? Because, despite their angelicness being only a ruse, they can see you for what you really are in this moment.

“Wait a second, do you know if they've been drinking anything other than shots?”

“Wouldn't know. I was doing my best to avoid babysitting this time.”

“I see. But, in that case, I'll be back in a second.”

Once the other had left earshot, the remaining harbinger turns to you and speaks, “I swear to fuck, Mat. You're lucky she's nice. Otherwise, I would've dropped you in a drainage ditch and called you in M.I.A. Between the shit you and Ed pull, they wouldn't even question it.”

You say sorry.

“I don't really care about apologies. We have drills tomorrow, and you better be on point or I’ll make you as armless as your damned ‘mech.”

You say sorry again.

“I don't know what your problem is, but you really have to start thinking about how you're not the only one with them. I try to help, but I'm reaching my limit. We all are.”

You say sorry again. And, again, and again, and again, and again. You're curled into a ball now, trying to block out as much sensation as you can. A fleeting thought hits you, letting you know you'd make a good physics test question right now. It was kind of funny, but you find the idea insulting. You ask yourself where you're going from here, as if you could even stand in your state. You wonder what catastrophe will play out tomorrow, assuming tomorrow ever comes. You ponder if the ground could just swallow you here and now. A hand lightly taps you on the shoulder.

“Hey, Mat right? I got you some water. I suggest you drink now, before you regret it later.”

She set a bag of water next to you with a crinkle. It's probably one of the three litre ones they have in the stores here, the ones with the scenic river on the label. You should be thankful for this. You agree and say thank you as audibly as you can. She probably hears you. You take the water as an opportunity to distract yourself from the noise of thinking for a second and take a series of greedy sips from the plastic pouring tip. 

“Hey. Hey! Slow down! I'm not helping you back to housing if you piss yourself.”

You comply, and that's probably for the best because in your haste, you upset your stomach. You vomit about a third of the bag of water and a year’s worth of alcohol onto the grass. God knows how you were able to hold it back until now. 

“Eugh…”

“They haven't eaten, looks like.”

“Corporal, with all due respect, gross.”

Hannelore shrugs. You don't remember not eating, but you don't remember eating either. That's probably not a good sign. You try to push yourself up off the ground, so you don't have to sit next to the mess you made anymore. You do a decent job of putting your feet on the ground. The balance is harder, and you start to careen just as Ashe catches you by the shoulder.

“Alright, Sergeant [that’s you], that's enough embarrassing yourself for one night. I think it's time to get you home.”

“That's probably best for the both of you. It's a big day tomorrow.”

“Seems like it. I'll see you then, Corporal.”

“Stay safe, you two.”

You take a second to process the detail left so casually in that farewell. When you finally get it, you look at Ashe with a panic and say, “Wait, what!?” She laughs back at you and just says, “Tomorrow's going to be a weird one for you, that's a given.”

You think of all the different ways to get out of drills tomorrow. There's plenty, many of which involve some fairly unnecessary self mutilation, but you won't act on any of them. It's clear the thought of being in your warm bed all alone is too tantalizing to be interrupted by even the strongest self hatred. Outside your head, the walk home is quiet. Ashe seems to soften toward you along the way, but probably from fatigue over anything else. She leaves you alone, and you just try your best to focus on the path ahead of you.

Before you know it, you're back in your dormitory room, double locking your door behind you. You hold a heavy debate over whether you can handle a shower, but something distracts you, another stray thought. This is a bad idea, but you won’t be dissuaded. Now, you’re digging through your duffle that had been tossed into a corner and lived out of for the past couple days. Toward the bottom, there's a slightly crumpled piece of photo paper. You almost instantly notice a few creases that had appeared since the last time you saw it. That hurts you. It reminds you that this fragile memory will be gone one day. You cry again. It's ok to this time; it won't hurt anyone. I silently accompany you because, despite the fact I never held a name that wasn't yours, it’s impossible to not miss how I looked in those royal guard dress whites. It was commissioning day. She was there too, looking happy for the both of us, but like me, She also lost her name somewhere down the line. I feel bad now. I wish I could apologize for being judgemental and cruel, but you didn't hear me say it at first so can't hear me repent. I wish I could hold you and you me, so we could mourn together and maybe you would hear me say, “it's ok.” Then, things might get better, even slightly. However, that's not possible, so you suffer drunk and alone. I’m sorry. 

Thankfully, sleep catches you at some point, despite you being fully dressed and leaving your lamp on. I hope beyond hope that you have a better day tomorrow.

[daikhenkhi]

It does involve Submas and Ingo but there is a fic on a fictional scenario where Ingo once reunited a small Dawn with her mother when Dawn got lost when they were visiting Nimbasa once, in the second half it's about Johanna being once again reunited with her daugther and Ingo bringing her too her. I know it's definitely not something you are looking for but I really see your frustrations a lot. It really isn't fair to really all the PLA characters and the possibility of stories that can be told

(also agreeing that everyone there does Kamado dirty. They turn him into a almost pathetic villain just for the sake of having a villain while I think he's complex and it's understandable given his past trauma to react the way he does. His apology in the game also feels genuine. And I feel his growth in character is one of the best.)

BUT

I think aside the Submas Twins another one that takes away way too much from the majority of PLA characters is also Volo. Everyone is simping this guy who literally tried to murder the protagonist to get a hold of the plates and get to Arceus.

He's either used as a one dimensional villain or an innocent mew-mew because of the implied bad time he had... still doesn't excuse him to try and DESTROY THE WORLD. (not to mention shoving him onto the twins as well)

Sometimes it feels like I’m yelling into the void when I talk about the submas brainrot that’s consumed this fandom, so I’m glad other people feel the same way.

The fandom’s obsession with Volo is at least somewhat understandable considering he’s a genderbent Cynthia and the main antagonist of the post-game, but the submas craze is genuinely inexplicable. Two completely optional side characters from Gen V with around 3 lines of dialogue in total, one of which makes a short cameo LA. There was really no reason for them to blow up the way they did

[sweetthingshavesharpteeth]

apparently today is webcomic day (who decides these things?) so i thought i'd highlight some under-appreciated webcomics that i love (they're all queer, because that's always high on the list of what i look for in fiction)

no links, because i want it to show up in the tags, but these are very easy to find with a quick web search

Buuza! by Shazleen Khan is set in an alternate history world with a blend of modern tech and fantasy elements, in an empire based in the arabian peninsula. genre-wise it's slice of life, but several of the characters are also tied up in politics, so it certainly touches on wider drama in the world. the characters are complex and rich, and the worldbuilding is fascinating without detracting from the character-driven narrative.

@twelvefifteencomic by Zelazny, an amazing urban fantasy adventure story set over the course of a single night. this is a fanwork of a music video, of all things, and zelazny has done an amazing job of taking a 3 minute video and expanding it into an engaging and fun story. tw for mentions of (past) suicide. this is complete, but there is apparently a sequel in the works.

Finding Home by @haridraws is a beautiful and at times heartrending slow burn fantasy romance. themes of depression and (past) abusive relationships are an important part of the story, just as fair warning. it is very close to finishing (i've actually read the end because i have the books, and the ending does not disappoint).

White Noise by @thephooka is one of those stories that makes me want to devour every bit of information about the world it is set in (and @tape-hiss does fulfil some of that desire). don't get me wrong, the characters and story are incredibly engaging, but it's rare to see a world so richly imagined. the story itself is about losing everything and finding new things (as well as old things you thought you'd lost), and about liminality, and about making change. the primary antagonists are slavers, so the story does engage repeatedly with the violence of slavery. arc one has just finished, with an epilogue in progress, and a second and final arc is planned.

[assholepants]

One thing that keeps coming up on the homestuck made this world podcast that I'd like to reflect on (I'm on E5P3 btw, so apologies if something like this gets discussed later and I'm junking the gun) is this idea that characters are puppets that Hussie can guide, or shine a camera on, or influence, but they are ultimately their own things, that are somewhat separate from their full control as an author. And the hmtw guys, quite rightly, point out that this really isn't how fiction works in a broad sense. And yes they are 100% correct that this explanation is often used in contexts where Hussie wants to absolve herself from responsibility for choices they have made, and this is important when parsing how sincere Hussie is being with this idea.

But I do think this theory of fiction weirdly reflective of a form of storytelling that I have a fair amount of experience with, and that is TTRPGs. Where you have, what could be considered as a sort of central author who creates the world, the key plot points, all of the NPCs and basically does most of the legwork for guiding and shaping the story. Essentially what the Black text narrative voice does in homestuck. But the PLAYER characters in that story do exist as a separate entity, which the GM can guide and influence and attempt to push in certain directions, but who ultimately exist outside of the realm of direct control of the 'cental author'. And as a GM, you have to plan around these things, and consider how these characters work, the types of decisions they might make, and how you can tell a coherent story whilst still allowing these characters to act somewhat independantly from you.

I do think at some points, homestuck feels like it is written by a GM who has sort of lost control of the table a little bit. Character motivations seem to take precedent over story beats that the author really wants to hit, and copious amounts of time are spent pulling the train back on the tracks, only for another character to derail in another way. But what's odd, is obviously if this is the model of fiction we are using, Hussie is ALSO the person piloting the player characters. GMing a game, played solely by himself. And in this way I can see where this worldview comes from right? If as the author of a work you are considering what characters would do, as separate from and sometimes antithetical to where you want the story to go, then it makes sense that you might erroneously start to view them as distinct entities that exist by themselves and have lives outside of the narrative that you are explicitly writing. And when you write like 6 different characters that intentionally have elements of authorial, or GM power, it become very easy for these characters to derail what you, as the primary author, want to do.

Obviously we can never actually know Hussie's actual writing process and this is pure speculation, and also again the fact that Hussie has control over all of the 'player' characters makes it distinct from a ttrpg. It also means that this theory actually does not absolve it from responsibility for character actions at all. But as someone who has GMed ttrpgs and has this same issue of trying to balance story with character development and motivation coming from forces outside of my complete control, it's something interesting to think about, with regards to the way that Hussie constructs this theory of how fiction is made.