#like where is some actual real high stakes

[halalgirlmeg]

Me going on my monthly tangent about how Mexican Gothic and On Sundays She Picked Flowers represent what I consider to be the perfect gothic novels (Victorian inspired and Southern gothic respectively) and how none of the others compare and keep disappointing me

#like where is some actual real high stakes #Where's the heightened emotions #Where's the dark tragic history of the houses that seeks to destroy those within? #like WHERE #books

[musical-chick-13]

Again, always very confusing to me when people suffering from The Obsessive Compulsives are Antis™, like these people will not protect you. They believe thought crimes are real. They inherently hate you and WILL throw you to the wolves if they ever come to know about anything related to your intrusive thoughts or the """""weird""""" things they ask you to do in therapy to manage/cope with them.

#you know how in erp a big part of it is writing down/thinking about the actual worst case scenario? you know the scenario that #often leads to people being harmed in a permanent way? you know creating a fictional scenario where bad things happen to good #people and you are the cause of them? THE VERY KIND OF FICTION THESE PEOPLE ARE AGAINST EXISTING IN ANY FORM BECAUSE IT #'NORMALIZES' WHATEVER TF THEY'RE ON A CRUSADE ABOUT ON ANY GIVEN DAY #THEY ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS. THIS WAY OF THINKING IS /ACTIVELY ANTITHETICAL/ TO RECOVERY FROM THIS DISORDER #this is related to the 'does anyone else get Themes™ about writing' question I posed a while back and some of these people.......... #if you knew the specifics of what I was writing about you would COMMIT ARSON #IT'S NOT REAL! NONE OF THIS IS REAL!! YOU ARE ONLY GOING TO MAKE IT WORSE FOR YOURSELF BY MORALIZING FICTION IN THIS WAY #I USED TO HAVE CRISES OVER SYMPATHIZING WITH AND ENJOYING VARIOUS HORRIBLE FICTIONAL WOMEN TAKE IT FROM SOMEONE WHO KNOWS DIRECTLY!!!!!!! #and ngl a lot of these arguments about why xyz is Irredeemable™ sound a LOT like my disorder. #(especially in the way they try to like...twist things into fitting into a definition of [insert type of problematic dynamic here] a la #'character raising their voice at someone one time during a high-stakes situation is abuse' or 'people who were friends as children #are Related Actually') #like. you get why. you get why this VERY disorder would think in similar ways to that right. because it tries to convince you that #everything you do is violating various human rights correct? you get why this would be unhelpful right? #IF YOU SOUND LIKE MY FUCKING DISORDER!!! YOU ARE WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!! #In the Vents #okay I'm done. this just. It BUGS me.

[cuppatealove]

5 things you never get tired of writing

I was tagged by @everyhazyday

1.  Hurt/comfort.  This term was basically designed for me:  I like not shying away from agony, but it’s the love and comfort that make the agony MEAN something.  Be a Puddleglum, not an Eeyore.  And emphasis on the comfort.  I have a yet-to-be-published fic which is literally 3 pages of hurt followed by 16 pages of comfort XD  

2.  Specifically, the kind of comfort where EVERYBODY FINALLY OPENS UP ABOUT THEIR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS, extra points if they’re somebody who doesn’t do this often.  So, you know, all blokes, and also Peggy Carter.  (Although Peggy, I feel, finds things hard to talk about that should be easy, and other things easy to talk about that should be hard.)  Just let it all out, guys.  And, as a strangely incongruent sub-category, the kind of comfort where nobody has to say a word because they already know ❤️

3.  Hospital drama.  Just a sucker for it.  Put my darlings in a devastating accident and see how they cope.  I have no idea who broke me as a child.  

4.  Putting prickly people in warm, loving environments and making them desperately uncomfortable **cough cough JACK THOMPSON cough cough**

5.  British scenes and characters.  Comes far more naturally to me than American stuff.  Also my default writing style is kind of 1950s British fiction XD  Which is maddening, because the only two shows that have ever inspired me to write are both American!!!  Weirdly, I am just not remotely inspired to write anything set in NZ.

Tagging @eienvine​ and @rowenabean​

#writing #writing meta #fic writing #srsly the country thing is a real issue #because sometimes i think one day i might like to actually write Real Stuff (i.e. not fic) #but where the heck would i set it??? #it's dumb to go to all the effort and research of writing a different culture if you don't actually have to #i guess i should probably get into secondary world fantasy #but that sounds like a lot of work ;) #could be fun to send daniel and peggy to 1950s nz some time though! #but that's a LONG journey i'm not sure what could be high enough stakes to be worth it

[emeryleewho]

I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #am writing #books #booklr #fiction #media analysis

[writefandoms]

Love Thy Body (Comm)

Adrian Tepes x Female!Reader (smut)

Summary: Adrian Tepes is in dire need of some good ol’ fashion loving.

Word Count: 1.9k

The dhampir of Wallachia was a man known by the name Alucard. 

The opposite of the evil Dracula, he’s seen as the people's savior. The one who will destroy the mad vampire and seal him to rest in his coffin for all eternity. 

But the old stories were just that: stories. Nothing but old wise tales passed around village to village. 

The real Alucard wasn’t the opposition to anyone. He was simply a man. A man who had lost those dear to him in the span of one long nightmare. One that could only end once he drove a stake into his own fathers heart. 

When you looked at this strong hero, you didn’t see a man. No- you saw a crying child longing for his mother and father. 

Adrian wore his scars with great sadness.

From the slice across his chest- given to him from his own father. To the burns around his wrists- given to him by those he entrusted with his body and soul. 

There was no savior, only a wounded child. 

Adrian Tepes was a beautiful man. No one could deny it. 

Even when he spoke with pure arrogance and sass, his golden eyes and sharp jawline were bound to make even the strongest of wills shatter at his looks. 

Upon your first meeting, you were very close to clocking him in his perfect nose. His sharp tongue and know-it-all attitude, made it impossible to not seethe with rage. 

But as you spoke with the man, you began to see past the beauty of his face. Looking into the eyes of a broken creature, longing for someone to hold him- but to scared to open himself to others. Fear of betrayal outweighed his need for compassion. 

The first time you kissed was quite a surprise for both of you. Tension was high after a fierce battle with a few night creatures. One moment your locking eyes, the next your pressed against him in a heated embrace. 

You both swore it was from the heat of battle, even when you can't help thinking about how soft his lips were. 

One broken promise later, you find each other stripped down and in each other’s embrace. No- not quite actually. 

You’re stripped naked, Adrian is only missing his cloak. 

As unfair as you think it is, the orgasms that Adrian delivers are enough to keep your complaints to yourself. 

You thought nothing of his tendency to remain mostly clothed during your heated exchanges. Usually your mind is to busy being blown to care. But tonight would be different. 

“Strip.”

Adrian simply freezes, suddenly unsure where to put his hands on your exposed body. 

“I beg your pardon?” Ever the linguistic, but still playing dumb. 

“Ya’ speak English or not? I said strip.” Your legs shut, blocking his hands or wandering eyes from your privates. 

“I’ve never had to-“

“Aye, I’m naked as the day I was born, yet you’re still in your fancy boots. It’s not fair!” Arms folded like your scolding him, you pick up a pillow to block your chest from his view. “No more fucking until I get to see your bits!”

It’s his turn to scowl now, sitting back on his knees, on the mattress. 

“Language.”

“Stop changing the subject, strip or no more fun time!”

“Fun time?” His lips twitch slightly, a smirk forming on his face. 

Not liking his blatant disregard for his request, you tug a spare sheet around your shoulders to cover your bare body. 

“Fine.” Dragging yourself to your feet, you turn from him, “Good night.”

It doesn’t take him long to call you back, not even two seconds in fact. 

“Don’t leave.” His tone is new, almost fragile. Like if you raised your voice he’d shatter. “Please.”

Clasping your sheet dress, you turn towards him, but wait for him to continue. He doesn’t speak, only reaches a hand out, a proverbial olive branch. 

Who are you to deny this beauty of a man. 

Adrian cups your hand so gently, tugging you towards him. He’s sitting at the foot of the bed, spreading his legs to fit you between them. His eyes level with your chest. 

He’s peering up at you with a look that you can’t quite pinpoint. Definitely lust, but with a twinge of something else. 

Pulling your hand downward, he leads you to his button up. Your fingers follow his to the first button, his hands slip away, but the invitation remains. 

Uncertainty weighs your fingers down, slowly unbuttoning the first one. Only when he nods do you pick up the pace, eager to see more of him. Even the small sliver of visible pale flesh has you excited. 

But that excitement is quickly dashed once you catch sight of the large scar branding his near perfect skin. He must regard your sadness as disgust because he pulls back. 

The look on his face of pure disdain- but you know it’s not directed towards you. 

“Satisfied?” Is all he spits at you, eyes glaring at the wall behind you. 

Lifting a hand, your fingers dance along the scar tissue. Only able to journey so far before his hand grips your wrist and halts your motion. 

“Don’t-“ His grasp weakens, shoulders slumping, “-don’t pity me.”

Allowing your hand to pull free, you begin your conquest once again. This time planting both hands firmly against his chest, before leaning down planting a chaste kiss against his lips.

It’s soft. Softer than either of you’ve ever been with one another. 

Adrian takes a moment but returns the sweet gesture. Lips working against yours, like two puzzle pieces. 

You don’t give him a chance to think before pushing your body weight onto him, successfully landing him on his back. 

Despite being caught off guard, he’s still quick enough to land on his elbows. 

“Bloody vampire speed.” You grumble, but refuse to let him stump this small victory. 

Latching your lips on his jaw, you revel in the gasp that leaves him. Adventure further down the column of his throat, leaving small bites and kisses in your wake. 

The subtle pleasures must be enough for him to lower his guard once again, slowly laying flat on his back. His hands fist the sheets beneath him, claws unconsciously ripping the fabric. 

Noticing this loss of control you take the opportunity to lighten the mood. “Tsk. That’s silk, Mr. Tepes.”

Moving back to lock eyes with him, you’re relieved to see him roll his eyes. 

“I can always buy new ones.”

“Oh? Trying to impress me with your riches?” Hands spread on his chest, you push yourself into an upright position, straddling his waist. 

Adrian’s hands move from the sheets, securing themselves onto your hips. 

“Are you only straddling me because of my possible riches?” The grip on your hip gives him leverage to grind against your bare crotch, drawing a low moan from you. 

“Trust me, it’s not just your money that keeps me here.” You trail a hand down his chest, raking your nails a little harsher as you reach the sharp v-line, leading to the tent in his pants. 

“Y-your- ahhh…vile creature.” His moans only add to the heat between your legs, making you unconsciously rub against his bulge. 

“An’ you’re too sexy for your own good.” Your eyes admire the sight of him beneath you. 

Pale skin, ripped muscles, beautiful face, all for you. 

“Quiet.” Is all he can muster in a weak defense, but the pink tint on his cheeks is a dead give away. 

“Not until I make up for all the times you hid this work of art from me.”

Hands run down his bare chest, fingers trying to memorize every crack and crevice. His breathing hitches when you trace his scar, skin more sensitive than the rest. 

Leaning down you catch a pink nipple between your lips, giving a half hearted suck. His reaction is a mixture of surprise and pleasure, back arching a fraction and fingers twitching. 

“Heathen…” he manages to groan with faux anger, not convincing due to the pink still tinting his cheeks. 

“Whore.” You grin back up at him, rolling his nipple between your teeth now. 

“Hng-” It’s adorable really- watching him struggle to keep his cool demeanor up. 

Your mouth remains latched to his nipple, hand wandering down his arm, pausing at his wrist. Even with your soft grip around it has tension rushing through his muscles. Pulling his wrist a bit, you feel slight resistance before he allows you to drag his hand towards your face. Still hovering over his chest, you place a soft kiss on the dark scar that resembles a bracelet. 

“You’re beautiful,” you sit up to straddle him once again, while hoisting his other wrist to your lips. “So beautiful it’s nearly scary.”

He’s breathless as he lays back and watches you plant kiss after kiss along his scars. 

The grinding of your hips against his catches him by surprise. 

“Oh!” The half vampire gasps, mouth opening revealing two razor sharp fangs. 

His hands are led down your neck, past your chest, landing on your hips. Hot friction burns between your arousal and his, successfully leaving a wet spot on his pants. 

“Please let me show you how badly I need you…” your voice loses any confidence, taking on a breathy, whiny tone. 

Your eyes lock, his half lidded golden orbs staring at you with a near predatory gaze. One hand drops from your hip and slides between your legs.

“Ah! Adrian-” Your cries only make his fingers move more, direct contact making your thighs clench. 

Moving up a bit, unconsciously giving his long, attentive, fingers better access. His fingers are slightly sticky with your arousal, taking said juices and rubbing it around your hole. 

“This- mmm… I wanna be in c-control!” As angry as you try to sound, you can’t help the noises leaving you, screwing your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. 

“You want me to stop?” He questions, his fingertip pushes into your eager cunt, giving only a hint of relief before pulling out. “Fine.”

The whimper that leaves you has him growing hard- well, harder. 

“Please…more.”

There’s no time to try and deny your body's needs, not when he allows his finger to push into you, all the way in. Thrusting the finger slowly, the sounds of wetness get louder. He pulls them out completely, only for two to push back in. 

“Y-yes- need more…” Your hips move on their own, fucking yourself on his fingers. 

He doesn’t press another in though, instead keeps his eyes locked on the place where you wrap tightly around his fingers. Even the slightest crook of his finger inside of you has you toppling over, bare chests rubbing each other. At this awkward angle you can’t really fuck yourself onto him, leaving you at the mercy of his slow and shallow fingerfucking. 

That need for release grows as his long fingers strike sparks against your inner walls. The sounds coming from your lower half would be embarrassing if you weren’t going mad with unholy needs. 

“I can’t come like this, p-please…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you can’t walk. Okay, my love?”

My love. A title too romantic for your intimate relationship, words failing you.

Your lack of response is substituted by your tightness clenching around his digits, making his chest rumble with an evil chuckle. 

“Good girl.”

#commission #taking commisions #writing #castlevania smut #castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard smut

[decolonize-the-left]

I hate democrats with all my very heart but I can't in good faith advise to vote 3rd party in these hell years when they would see every trans person hang and be off hormones. When the transphobia is not at its height (Eg, like. a few years ago) I would 100% agree with you, but the stakes are too high. If the states falls to transphobia, even more countries will follow it. I think it's harmful to consider not voting D this upcoming election. Once they got off tihs current bend, I could get behind where you are coming from.

"this is helpful and not lacking critical analysis at all"

"if the states fall to transphobia"

Where have you been?

GA & VA are blue states this year btw. It's gotten worse since May and and April, too. The mid terms didn't save anyone.

Also if you, the person reading this, have considered voting 3rd party pls know it's not nearly as unpopular or as unlikely of a win as Democrats want you to think it is.

People would vote for a good 3rd party candidate, actually.

Dems convincing you its a long shot is absolutely a self-preserving psyop hoping to convince you otherwise. Its a half-assed theory that blatantly denies what we learned from 2016 and can still see in polls.

And that's 3rd party candidates stand a shot of they can get in the primaries for the general election. People want progressives. People were pissed and turned to voting for Trump when Sanders fell out- not Clinton.

They need and want another option and it's not a long shot or unlikely. They just need to make it to the primaries.

Enter Cornel West

Cornel West is not running as a Democrat and thus does not need to battle Biden for a spot on the general ballot in November of 2024....

✨ Which gives you and all your friends plenty of time to learn about him ✨

So here are some of his policies and also his campaign site

I'm a decolonial anarchist that hates the state and sees voting as nothing as upholding the state. I make no room for Democrats because Democrats lack the ambition to challenge anything about it.

But unless Cornel West drops out or ends up being some awful closeted abused... Im going to vote for him.

A lot of his politics and campaign goals align with my politics. I wouldn't feel like I was settling if I voted for him.

And a lot of this stuff isn't unreasonable or unrealistic either. Like I just made a post about how the NDAA budget proposal for 2024 is being increased with enough money to solve clean water, homelessness, and implement free college tuition for the whole USA. And Republicans are fighting for more.

And that's just the budget for two years, it'll probably be increased by another hundred billion in a couple years. Nobody blinks when the military budget is swelling like that.

But we should when we can be using that kind of money to solve real problems that real people are having and face and would change lives literally overnight. They just throw that money at the military where most of us never see it again.

But this stuff can be real.

#asked #answered #electoral politics #cornel west #2024 election #usa election #us voters #democrats #liberals #leftist #anarchist #socialist #libertarian #communist #workers rights #trans rights #queer rights #disability rights #direct action #mutual aid #lgbt #indigenous #ndn #biden #usa polls #politics #capitalism #human rights #climate change #ndaa

[agustdakasuga]

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 5

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning: Incident of stalking and the topic/ threat of potential suicide is brought up.

The rest of the weekend was, thankfully, less eventful for you. You could catch up on much needed sleep and finish a ton of university work, even advance assignments that weren’t taught yet. Now you were in front of your computer, looking at university majors.

“Just pick a major, (y/n). Why are you having such a hard time?!” You scolded yourself. The ‘narrowed’ list you made was far from small, there were still too many options to choose from.

‘Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange’

You found yourself typing out on the search engine. Many articles popped up, all singing different praises and words of adoration for the organisation.

“Charity funding... Sponsorships... Donations...” You briefly read through the some of the articles that listed what your father did. There he was, a picture of your dad, standing in the middle of the 7 men that you now know about.

“Acquainted with government officials and the president. Good relations all around.” You read outloud.

Considering how well known your father was, you were surprised you had never noticed his name in the news before to connect the dots that this man was your father. There was little said about the 7 though, only that they are your father’s ‘protogés’ or ‘apprentices’, trained to take over the company after your father retires as the head.

‘Park Jimin will be representing Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange in the high stakes charity poker game. There will be many other figureheads in attendance. Winnings will go to the winner’s charity of choice.’

“Wow, they are everywhere.” Your eyes widened. The company had a stake and connection in every industry. You did so much reading, you hadn’t realised that it was dinner time.

“What should I eat?” In the end, you ordered food for pick up at a nearby restaurant since they didn’t do delivery.

“Here you go. Enjoy your food and stay safe!” The old lady gave you the plastic bag of containers. With a grateful smile and a bow, you took the food and left to go home. It was Sunday night and you really didn’t want to be out of the house.

Jimin hummed as he straightened up, twirling his keys around his fingers. He poked his head out of the alley before he emerged. He adjusted his hair and straightened his suit jacket.

“How long more are you going to check your appearance?” Hoseok drove over, stopping his car right in front of Jimin, one arm perched on the door while the other stayed on the steering wheel. Jimin rolled his eyes but walked over, sitting in the passenger seat.

“You got it?” Hoseok asked.

“Did you seriously just ask me if I got it? Of course I got it.” Jimin waved the access card in front of Hoseok’s face. Hoseok snatched it, tucking it into the back pocket of his pants.

“Now where’s my stuff?” Jimin held his hands out like a child waiting for candy. The older reached into the back seat and tossed him something.

“Thank you~” Jimin grinned triumphantly. Unlike the others, Jimin was the first one to try Hoseok’s new shipment of weapons through this deal. He looked at the new pistol with modifications made and designed by Namjoon.

“This new silencer is supposed to be better and not affect the accuracy as much. Namjoon and his team tested it for ages.” Hoseok said.

“Well, he can use it after me.” Jimin smirked, pretending to aim the gun in front of him.

RINGGGGGG

“Taehyung, why are you calling? We’re on the way home.” Hoseok asked as he drove. Jimin threw in a greeting as well.

“Hyung!! You need to go help (y/n) right now! She called me all panicked, saying that she was being followed and then her phone died! She was coming from (restaurant name) so she should be along that path!”

“Okay, Taehyung! I’ll keep you updated.” Hoseok said and hung up. He stepped on the accelerator immediately, lurching the car forward in the direction of where you lived. Jimin pursed his lips, opting not to say anything and just follow along. It wasn’t his car anyway. Hoseok used the voice navigation to find where the restaurant was.

“How are we going to know where she is exactly?” Jimin asked.

“There aren’t too many streets, it’s one path. You wanted a reason to use your new gun, right?” Hoseok stopped the car. Jimin followed alongside Hoseok as they looked for you.

“(y/n)?!” Hoseok yelled out. Jimin heard footsteps and hushed Hoseok. He leaned into an alleyway and found a masked person with a cap walking around.

“What are you looking for?” Jimin pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of the person’s head. The unknown person visibly froze in his tracks, putting his hands up. Hoseok ran forward and found you hiding.

“(y/n)...” He looked at your traumatised, scared form. You had your knees drawn to your chest.

“H-Help.” You whimpered.

“I’ve got it, hyung. Call it... target practice. I’ll come home later.” Jimin sighed. Hoseok nodded, putting his jacket over your shoulders. He put his arms under you and hoisted you up.

“I’ll see you at home. Let’s go, (y/n).” Hoseok whispered. You tucked your head against his chest and Hoseok could feel you shaking in fear in his arms. He placed you in his car but was unsure of whether he should be taking you home or back to the boys’ house.

“(y/n), listen to me. You’re safe now. That person won’t find you, they won’t come after you. They can’t hurt you.” Hoseok spoke. You nodded your head slowly, not really processing what he was really saying.

“Do you want to go to your own home? Either way, I will stay with you to make sure you are not alone.” Hoseok promised.

“Please take me somewhere safe.” You requested.

“Okay.” Hoseok made the decision to take you to their home. You would definitely be safe and protected there with all of them home. He had informed the others of the arrangement.

“We’re here.” He pulled up in the driveway. You were so far gone that you didn’t notice the scale of the estate. It was a huge mansion.

With his arm around you, Hoseok slowly guided you into the house. He tossed his keys to the valet to park for him. The others had gotten the maids ready to welcome you to the house. But they stayed away to not overwhelm you further. The maids were all kind, receiving you gently and moving you up to the guest room. You just followed their lead quietly.

“How is she?” Namjoon asked.

“Scared, traumatised. I don’t know, I just removed her from the situation. Jimin is handling the guy.” Hoseok informed, falling back onto the lounge chair with a long sigh. Yoongi handed him a glass of whiskey.

“Chim is just... gonna kill the guy. We won’t know why she was targeted in the first place.” Jin folded his arms.

“We probably know the reason why. Word spreads faster underground than above ground. This is going to be the first of many.” Jungkook rolled his eyes as he drank his beer.

“Is it that serious? So quickly?” Taehyung scratched his head.

“Come on, Tae. We have been in this world forever. People die faster than you can snap your fingers.” Yoongi said.

“Anyway, let’s keep things to a minimum now that she is here, alright? We will talk about this in the morning.” Namjoon stopped the conversation. This was too much for him, all of a sudden, to be able to process. As everyone split up, Hoseok slipped into Jin’s cave.

“Jimin got it?” Jin knew who it was without having to turn around. His fingers danced across his keyboard as he typed away.

“It’s Jimin. Of course, he got it. It’s all his effort, I was just the getaway. You’re lucky I had something to incentivise him to do the job so quickly.” Hoseok clicked his tongue as he waved the access card that Jimin obtained.

“Here.” He tossed it onto the table.

“Thanks, Hoseok. I knew I could count on Jimin... and you, I guess.” Jin said with a chuckle.

“No problem. But wait, hyung. You can hack anything, why do you need this specific access card? Looks like you can get into the system just like that.” Hoseok asked as he peeked at Jin’s screen.

“Well, in this case, the person is smart. I can crack this system easily but the creator has put a tracker on everything. Better to go in through the old fashion way, avoid suspicion.” Jin shrugged, reaching over to take a sip of his plum wine. Seeing as to how Hoseok was just snooping, Jin chased him out and locked the door behind him.

“Here. We have some clothes for you to wear comfortably.” One of the maids handed you a set of clothing. It was a pair of home shorts and a really oversized white shirt.

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Young master Hoseok said that you didn’t get to your dinner so we are bringing up a tray of hot food for you now.” She informed. You nodded your head and went to change in the bathroom.

“Have some tea in the mean time. It will help calm you down.” She handed you the mug. You took it with both hands.

“Thank you... Sorry, that has never happened to me so I guess I’m quite shaken.” You forced a smile. She shook his head, patting your back.

“Young miss. Here is your food. Please enjoy.” Another maid came in carrying a tray. She placed the tray on the small table and you sat down. The spread was luxurious.

“Don’t worry, young miss. You are safe here.”

“Do you want us to stay with you?” She offered. You shook your head with a grateful smile. With a deep bow, they retreated out of the room. You wrapped your arms around yourself. After your mum died, there was no one to hug and comfort you like she did.

Your brain was a mess, trying to find a reason as to why you would have been followed. You kept to yourself, never really interacting or making friends easily. The person could just be trying to rob you or steal your dinner.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You replied. Taehyung poked his head in before walking in.

“Hey, (y/n). Are you doing okay?” Taehyung asked. You nodded your head. His eyes trailed to your tray. Your cutlery was still tucked into the napkin, a sign that you hadn’t touched your food.

“It must have been scary. But don’t worry, the guy isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Taehyung assured.

“I was worried he might follow me and know where I live, that’s why I agreed to be brought here. But the police was able to get him?” You tilted your head, relief in your voice. Taehyung nodded his head.

“Jimin handed him over to the cops after he was apprehended.” He lied.

“Thank you. Sorry for imposing and making you guys go all the way to help me when I’ve been nothing but stand offish and unfriendly.” You lowered your head. Taehyung softened slightly, looking at you. It wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. He knew you couldn’t help it, it was the only way you could protect yourself when you’re alone.

“Don’t think about that now. You’ll be safe here, (y/n). I promise. You should just rest here for the night and I’ll take you home in the morning.” Taehyung said.

“Alright. Thank you again, Taehyung sshi.”

“Stop thanking us. Goodnight.” He got up and left the room. You sighed, mentally grateful for the fact that he didn’t force you to stay, even offering to take you home in the morning.

Jimin yawned as he entered the house, smoke escaping his mouth as he exhaled. He removed his blood stained sweater and tossed it onto the ground.

“Is it settled?”

“Yoongi hyung, surprised to see you awake. And yes, it is settled. It was one guy, easily handled.” Jimin greeted with a nod of his head. Yoongi hummed, swirling his drink in his glass. Jimin walked over, leaning against the bar.

“So do I get a prize for saving the damsel?” Jimin smirked. Yoongi scoffed at how Jimin treated this like a game.

“You don’t like her, do you?”

“Whether I like her or not doesn’t matter now, does it?” The younger asked back, going to pour rum into a fresh crystal glass then proceeding to take a long sip.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope you were able to take it out on the poor guy. If you don’t like her then don’t cross paths with her. She’s in the first guest room. Namjoon’s going to have us talk to her tomorrow but I’ll get you out of it.” Yoongi offered.

“Nah, I’m not a coward.” Jimin declined. He refilled Yoongi’s glass with more whiskey before refilling his own.

“You’re going to have to learn to work with her sooner or later. We all know she’s a walking target board and as frustrating and burdensome as it is, she’s our Achilles heel.” Yoongi pointed out.

“Goodnight, hyung.” Jimin left the bar area first.

-

When you woke up the next morning, you laid in bed for a while before loitering around the room. You were not sure what you were supposed to do, have you woken up too early or too late compared to the others that lived in the house?

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You dove back under the covers. It was the same maid from the night before. She poked her head in before bowing.

“Good morning, agashi. When you are ready, young master Namjoon has called for you to join them for breakfast. I have some clothes here for you.” She held the folded clothes in her hands. You nodded your head and got up to go brush your teeth. When you came out, the curtains had been drawn, the uneaten food cleared and the bed was made.

“I will be outside to take you to the dining room after you’ve changed. Please take your time.” She put her hands together and bowed again then retreated out of the room.

“Alright then.” You changed into the short sleeve white button up blouse and skirt that was prepared, simple but elegant in its own way.

“I’m ready. Thank you for waiting.” You came out, running your fingers through your hair once more.

“Right this way.” She gestured and started walking.

“This house is huge. Very easy to get lost without a guide.” You commented, looking at all the doors you walked past. The maid nodded in agreement with a giggle. You followed her down the grand staircase.

“The young masters that are awake are having their meal now.” The maid said, opening the french doors for you to enter the dining room.

“Good morning, (y/n).” Namjoon smiled.

“Good morning.” You bowed your head shyly and stepped in. The maid was behind you, closing the doors and leading you to your seat at the dining table. The butler pulled the chair out for you to sit down. You sat beside Namjoon, trying not to maintain eye contact with anyone at the table.

“A drink to start, agashi? We have tea, coffee, juices.” The butler offered.

“I’ll have a coffee, please. Umm... A cappuccino.” You ordered randomly. It wasn’t your more usual drink but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience. This was already all too much for you.

“I hope you slept well.” Taehyung smiled.

“I did... Thank you.” You spoke softly. The butler came and placed the breakfast tray in front of you.

“Thank you for the food.” You were still speaking softly, hoping that despite that, the butler could hear your gratefulness. You picked up your chopsticks and dug into the food. It was light and delicious, just what you needed.

The breakfast strangely felt normal. The boys chatted amongst themselves, normal chat, nothing really out of the normal. You guessed it was because they were still tired. You didn’t feel the right or need to participate in their chatter, focusing on the food on the tray in front of you. You wanted to just keep to yourself and avoid contact.

“(y/n), can we talk in the living room?” Taehyung requested when you were done with breakfast. You nodded your head, following behind them.

“Go wake Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok.” Jin ordered the butler. He nodded with a bow and retreated upstairs to the bedrooms. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited.

“Morning.” Hoseok yawned as he walked over. Jungkook and Jimin sleepily shuffled over.

“Thank you again for last night. Really.” You stood up to bow to Hoseok and Jimin. You still didn’t really know all their names but you still felt the need to express your gratitude. The two blinked, unsure of how to react.

“(y/n), unfortunately, we believe that you were targeted for a reason last night. We’re unsure of why but if someone is really after you, they’re not going to stop.” Namjoon explained.

“I’m in danger?”

“Luckily Hoseok and Jimin could get to you in time. But it’s serious and we want to make sure you’re safe.” He continued. You nodded your head.

“We’ve discussed as brothers... We don’t want to force you into anything. But we know that we need to get along with one another. The other roles and responsibilities, the future of all of this, we can think about that later. We just take it one step at a time.” Another spoke.

“Why is someone out to get me? I don’t know anything? This... All this isn’t me. I keep to myself, I don’t make enemies. Why is this happening?” You started to freak out.

“(y/n), calm down. Breathe. You’re going to have a panic attack.”

“I’ve always been alone, on my own. Everything I’ve done, it was only ever for my mother and myself.” You held your head.

“You don’t have to be alone and shoulder everything on your own anymore, (y/n).” Taehyung said.

“I only agreed to go to the funeral because I thought I was honouring a dead man’s wish. If I had known, by showing my face, that it was a trip to an early grave, I would have killed myself when my mother died.” You said.

“This would have happened sooner or later, (y/n). Whether you showed up at the funeral of not. I’m sorry, we know that this is a lot to take in at one time.” Jin spoke cautiously.

“I didn’t ask for this-”

“You think we asked for any of this? All we’ve been doing is chasing after you, having to coddle you, ‘adjust’ to you. While doing all that, did you think we’ve had the chance to mourn? No because it’s all about you and how this is unfair to you.” Jimin finally spoke, letting all his frustration pour out.

“Jimin. Leave, now.” Namjoon stood up, his voice grew serious as his ordered the younger male. Jimin rolled his eyes but stormed out of the living room. You pursed your lips.

“Please... I want to go home.” You begged.

~~

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #bts #bts scenarios #bts series #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #poly!bts #poly bts #bts poly #poly!bts x reader #mafia #mafia!au #mafia au #mafia bts #bts mafia #ot7 #ot7!bts #bts ot7 #ot7 bts #ot7 x reader

[ewingstan]

Worm and other media that won't just let you shoot the Joker, part 1:

Worm comments on the structure of stories, especially superhero stories, in some interesting ways. There's a lot of stuff that happen in superhero comics for no real reason than that it needs to happen for the story to be interesting; a huge amount of Worm's worldbuilding is devoted to taking these things and making the fact that they have to happen an explicit in-setting constraint. For instance, superhero stories tend to have more powerful heroes face off against much more powerful villains than their less-powerful allies, to the point where it seems like super-powerful threats are coming to earth every few weeks just because it wouldn't be interesting to read that comic otherwise. It gets weirder when you compare what villains end up visiting the cities of uber-powerful heroes vs the cities of less powerful heroes: Gotham mostly just has to deal with serial killers while Metropolis is a magnet for evil gods. Worm plays with this by having the Endbringers exist only because the big hero needed something to fight in-text: it changes "powerful heroes need powerful villains or else it wouldn't be interesting" from a Doylist justification to a Watsonian one. Then there's the fact that so much of the horrible conflict in Earth Bet is explicitly caused by Gods making sure the powers they grant people lead to increased conflict, the fact that one of the most powerful characters does what she does because the plot path to victory says she needs to, etc.

But the big one is Jack Slash, and how he's only able to get away with his bullshit because he has plot armor as a secondary power. As WB says here, "Jack's a reconstruction of the Joker type character in the sense that you can't have such a character take such a high profile position in the setting, without having there be a cheat." The Joker and similar characters are only able to keep being relevant threats in their stories because the narrative bends to let them win and stops them from being killed. Jack Slash is only able to keep being a relevant threat because his power makes the universe bend to let him win in the same way. Not only does this make for an interesting obstacle (its almost like they're fighting an authorial mandate!), but it skewers the use of similar character's plot armor and how unrealistic and unsatisfying it makes their stories.

But wait, what does it mean for a story to be "unrealistic" in the context of superpowers? Is being unrealistic in those contexts actually a problem? For that matter, what does it mean for a narrative to bend to let someone win? Its not like there's an objective way fighting the Joker would go, which the author is deviating from by letting him survive.

[Stuff under readbelow contains spoilers fo, the movie Funny Games and the book Anybody Home?]

Maybe we could say that if characters like the Joker were real, and put in the situations they are in their stories, they would end up being killed really quickly. But is that a reasonable way to judge stories? A narrative where such a character is killed unceremoniously to satisfy a need for realism isn't any less an expression of the author's deliberate choices than a story where the character keeps showing back up to satisfy a desire for fan-favorite characters. And while Jack Slash's arcs help show why deviating from "realistic consequences" in the service of keeping a character alive can make a story exhausting and screw with an audiences' appreciation of stakes, it doesn't make a strong case against the concept of villains having plot armor in general. A story isn't necessarily worse just for being constructed to keep the villains alive—all stories are constructed, and sometimes being constructed that way makes for the best story.

That becomes more clear when you take the premise of Jack Slash as "killer who wins because the mechanics of the universe says so" and make clear just how much "the mechanics of the universe" really just means "the story". Which is how you get Peter and Paul from Funny Games.

I'd highly recommend watching Funny Games (though for the love of god check content warnings), as well as Patricia Taxxon's review of it that I'm cribbing a lot from here. But to summarize, Funny Games is a movie written and directed by Michael Haneke about a family's lakeside vacation being interrupted by the appearance of two murderous young men, who capture them in their own house and slowly torture and kill them off. At least, that's what it seems to be about initially. It marketed itself as a somewhat standard entry in the genres of torture porn and home invasion thrillers, and played itself straight as one for the majority of its runtime. But then one of the two villains of the pair, "Paul," starts talking to the audience.

It starts small: after crippling the family's father and revealing that he killed their dog, Paul has the wife look for its corpse outside. While giving her hints, he slowly turns back towards the camera and smirks, before turning back. In isolation, maybe it could be interpreted as Paul smirking at Peter, seeming to look out at the audience only because of clumsy blocking. But then it happens again. Paul tells the family, who are completely at their mercy at this point, that they're gonna bet that they'll all be dead within twelve hours. When the family refuses to take the bet, asking how they could hope to win it when he can clearly off them all whenever they wish, Paul turns towards the audience and asks "what do you think? Do you think they stand a chance? Well you're on their side aren't you. Who you betting on, eh?" The audience is being acknowledged; their role as someone invested in the story is being examined by the ones introducing the stakes.

But the biggest moment comes near the end, when the mother grabs the shotgun she's being threatened with and blasts Peter. Paul startles, grins, and then hurredly grabs a tv remote and presses rewind. The movie itself suddenly rewinds to right before the mother grabs the gun, and plays again with Paul grabbing the shotgun right before the mother reaches for it.

Its a truly incredible moment, in that its the perfect way to forcibly take away the audience's suspension of disbelief. It forces the audience to acknowledge that they're viewing a story, not something happening to a real family. After their moment of catharsis against the villains, Paul makes the confront the fact that the movie will end however the creators want it to, and if they want the villains to win they'll will regardless of how little sense it makes. Fuck you, we can go from being set in the normal world with normal rules to the villains traveling back in time with a tv remote, because a story does whatever its creators want. Haneke just decided to make that obvious in the most jarring way imaginable.

But maybe the best way to illustrate Funny Games effectiveness at this type of artful unveiling is comparing it to its less-effective imitators. I've recently finished Anybody Home?, a recently-published book by Michael J. Seidlinger. It has the conceit of being narrated by an unnamed mass-murderer, guiding a new killer in their first home invasion. I started reading it before I watched Funny Games, and even afterwards took a while to realize the unnamed narrator wasn’t just a pastiche of a Paul-like character but was actually supposed to be read as Paul himself. Seidlinger was having his book be a sort of unofficial sequel to Funny Games, narrated by its star. Once I realized, a lot of the books details suddenly clicked. The big one was the constant references to “the camera" and the idea of murder being a performance for an audience, one that needed to be fresh and original to make “the cults” enjoy it. Take these passages from page 77:

If it happened, it would perturb. It would create suspicion. It wouldn’t end up ruining the performance, and yet, it could have derailed our casing. The camera can have all it wants; either way, it’ll make it look better than it really was. It’ll strip away the cues and other planned orchestrations and it’ll show the action—the actuality of each scene, each suggestion…

This is a spectacle, above all. The craft pertains to keeping and maintaining a captive audience; behind the camera, you’ll never know how it happened—the trickery that made the impossible possible, the insanity so close to home. It is spectacle.

Through online activity, the son made it clear that something is happening at home, yet we cannot be certain if he has noticed the camera.

These all point to the idea that the murders are being viewed by an audience rather than just by intruders, that this is a performance for said audience's benefit more than anything else. But notably, it also reinforces the idea of these characters having an existence outside of the camera: the camera shows the action and "strips away" the cues behind it, the victims have a life outside the camera such that they could plausibly sense that the camera is now here. The victims are sometimes described as playing into their role, but always metaphorically; always as if normal people start acting like characters when put in certain circumstances. Whereas Funny Games posits that characters will behave however the author wants them to, denying the claim that stories are realistic simulations of hypothetical scenarios.

The whole thing is predicated on the idea that there needs to be a guide, that the villain of a home invader movie is really in danger of something going wrong. Paul/The narrator keeps giving directions on what needs to be double checked, what needs to X, and its completely against the spirit of the role Paul served in Funny Games. If something goes wrong for the villain they should just be able to rewind and do it over, because the story was written for them to succeed. Anybody Home? throws out Funny Games theme of the story being on rails, of the winner being whoever the author wants it to be and the events following whatever the author wanted rather than what would "really" happen. It throws out the whole idea that it’s all just a story, by supporting the idea that the characters have lives not captured by the camera—or more relevantly, not captured on-page.

Because Seidlinger using the language of film in a book leads to different things going on with the fourth wall. The way Funny Games and Anybody Home? make the camera explicit are just different, and the former does it much more interestingly than the latter. Seildinger’s characters aren’t looking back at the reader, the fourth wall is never actually breached. Funny Games has Paul look into the camera to address the audience, making clear how it’s a story being set up for the audience's benefit. Anybody Home? invokes the idea of a camera tracking everything home invaders do in general, having it be a third-party force that’s itself an unseen character contained within the story, observing the intruder's crime rather than the reader. Why is it still a camera, if we're in a book rather than a movie? A character in a book talking about a camera watching them does not convey any of the same meaning as a character in a movie suddenly looking into a camera and smirking at the audience!

By the end, you realize that this is caused in part by the book's bizarro take on how horror movies exist in this world. It reveals that in its setting, all horror movies are adaptations of real home invasions, which get recorded by unseen mysterious forces. Killers enter a home and enact violence, are filmed by some supernatural camera, the footage gets leaked to the public, and then the killers sell the rights to the work to studios. The events of SAW really happened, but the movie was just an adaptation. Funny Games really happened, but the Paul in the movies was just an actor playing the Paul narrating this book. The killer's victims eventually realize that they're "victims," but not in the sense that they realize their characters in a story, only in a sense that they realize they got sucked into their world's magical realism bullshit.

Ultimately, while the book does the same trick of being all about how horror stories are “for” us, it gets rid of all the tricks that made it work for Funny Games. It even strips it's in-universe version of what made it special; Funny Games is just another adaptation of a real home invasion. All the meta stuff that makes it interesting in its genre are just gestured at as aesthetics.

So what makes Jack Slash in Worm succeed where the killers in Anybody Home? fail? Both are constructed to be entertaining for a 3rd party who stand-in for but aren't actually the audience; the entities in Worm, the cults in Anybody Home?. But Jack Slash doesn't mix his metaphors. Worm may turn various real-life factors affecting a work into in-story mechanisms of the world in the same way Anybody Home? does. But it doesn't also base itself off a text that takes in-story mechanisms and breaks them to force the audience to see the various real-life factors affecting the work. In effect, WB pulls off a trick Seidlinger tries and fails because WB wasn't taking another metatexual story and stripping it of what made it interesting.

Though that introduces the question: can such meta-moves be mixed? Can you have a text where story conceits become explicit plot mechanics the characters are aware of, while also having characters really look at the camera and tell the audience that its all just a story? Can you actually sell it and make it something interesting?

There is one story that tries this. I don't know if it pulls it off, but it certainly makes a lot of interesting moves that create a fascinating whole. It even comments on the Joker in the same way Worm does, having a character who seemingly cant die because the roll they play in the story is too impor—

Ah fuck.

Continued in part 2.

#wormblr #wildbow #jack slash #parahumans #metafiction #funny games #michael haneke #anybody home? #michael j seidlinger #mals says #mals reads worm #Youtube

[emilykaldwen]

Fic Recs!

I decided to grab a few fics that I was recently introduced to as well as fics I haven't seen get a lot of traction in the space. This is just a personal list that I wanted to share!

@corporalicent's Rhaenicent Fics at AO3 - Cata is a beast when it comes to writing this ship (as well as other fandoms!) and has some really creative AUs out there: I mean come on: Nun!Rhaenyra and Novice!Alicent? We're here for that!

@lullaebies GenderSwapped!Green Kids AU Protector of the Realm on AO3 - So Helaena is now the only *son* of Viserys and Alicent, and Aegon/Aemond/Daeron were born girls. How intriguing is that! They are on a break for right now but go give that fic a look! Not to mention they write Aegon III/Jaehaera content that I just think is chef's kiss.

@dragonsoftheeast Firebender!Targaryen/No Dragons Dance AU Fire Made Flesh on AO3 - Um Hi, Helaena being the one to lose the eye? Actual good political matches. Unparralelled usage of High Valyrian and Valyrian Culture world building???? Sign me the fuck up! Dote is an amazing crafter of such a unique and fantastic canon divergence and I am constantly surprised more people aren't squealing about this amazing story that packs in so many twists and turns and is truly so thoughtful.

@theothermaidoftarth writing some Baela/Daeron and is currently working on Nettles/Cregan check out Song for Evermore on AO3 - Rare Pairs are a precious thing in any fandom and my girl is killing it with some fascinating ideas and utterly fantastic characterizations. We love IC AUs!

@gwenllian-in-the-abbey is leading the Baela/Aegon ship with her solo fic All Kings Are Beautiful on AO3, an 'Aegon was named heir' AU, as well as her other co-written work - Gwen's work reads like a historical fiction novel and that's really my favorite kind of thing. I haven't been able to read everything she's done but man, the nuance! The stakes! the ideas! She brings what I love to call an Old School A Song of Ice and Fire fic vibe to HotD space and I mean this with the highest of praise.

@selfproclaimedunicorn is writing Sins of the Father on AO3 because what if Rhea and Daemon actually had some kids but things still went sideways? - HELLO! MISA? Misa's talent for burying her fingers into every character we see and pulling out all the bits and bobs that make them tick? Is just.. I want to write this well when I grow up. The way she has seamlessly altered canon to the point where I'll see gifsets of scenes and go 'Where are Yorick and Ella?'. Also she has an Alicent x OC fic, and I would lay my life down for Aldreda Farwynd, my tall seal mommy.

@mimikoflamemaker is writing Daemon centric OC fic the False Dragon on AO3 - I haven't been able to dive into this yet but have talked fic and plotting with Justine. Their passion for the source is palpable and her creative ideas deserve to reach more people! Vaerra and Elyas are fascinating OCs with intriguing connections that you do not want to miss!

@jotterjots / @bronzefuryfic is also writing a 'What if Daemon and Rhea had a daughter' AU, Bronze Fury both on tumblr and AO3 - JJ is a real one and I always enjoy her insights. I actually had NO IDEA! that she was writing fic but from what I've read, it looks fantastic!

@acrossthesestars is writing Haunt Me, an Aemond War Bride AU that has me by the throat on AO3 - It's not a list without mentioning this amazing fic that's almost to the finish line. Alex's command of conflict and characterization where characters are allowed to be imperfect is something more of us need to dive into! We love a byronic lead in Aemond where all his edges and issues are fully acknowledged, a wily and fantastic female lead in Wylla Karstark, and just an overall amazing AU where these characters are clawing for their happy ending.

@branwendaughterofllyr is writing a 'What if Vizzy and Daemon's youngest brother lives and has a daughter' AU, A poison Tree on AO3 - I haven't been able to dig into this yet but it's just such a fascinating and original concept to make this Dance make a little more sense, and bring more high stakes. She's a long time ASOIAF writer who is passionate about the source material and here to show you what this world can be. Do go check her work out!

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #fic rec #wanted to spread the love around and put my actions to my words here

[deramin2]

Bell's Hells had a mental health crisis on the eve of their deployment to the global crisis front lines, and went to a HAG for help. Protected only by being with her granddaughter (mob boss's granddaughter core). Specifically one who delights in voyeurism of bumbling awkwardness and failure. She treats people like her own personal soap opera. Allura said she's known to feed off misery. They tell Mori her intervention could influence the entire fate of the gods and the world.

FCG makes a deal with the hag and ASKS to have their memory wiped so they'd get to be surprised about what happens. Likely the payment was them being sufficiently interesting and dramatic for her because they implicitly trust her to help them.

The hag then tosses a magic lens into an ordinary feywild ravine with three magically enforced rules: they must bring her the lens to win. If they speak truths, a path will appear upwards. If they tell lies a new thing will go wrong for them. She then watches them escalate her high-stakes truth or dare game into telling each other their rawest internal shit they were keeping to themselves but were coloring their feelings. Fair or not. They do this remarkably willingly under her trap.

Then she sets them up on a video game platformer challenge where you have to physically navigate a path overa casm blind protected only by your friends in co-op chat looking the map. She sets up thunder hornets nests to punish themIf they have natural human reactions of concern. They win two rounds and then lose one. So she makes a new rule that they can take the loss (and unknown consequences) or try one more time but instead of it being safe game rules it's now potentially deadly. They agree. This time they win through expert teamwork and suppressing their emotions.

Last the hag sets them up with a game of TF2 vs. a spy team but no one knows who's missing. They have to capture three briefcases while KNOWING some of their team mates are working against them. Orym has to execute those contingency plans while uncovering whose a traitor and who's actually on his side but as sketchy as usual.

This is what they've all discussed as their nightmare scenario. This is what they are so afraid to go through that the misery is tearing them apart. She's forcing them to go through the thing they least want to face. As a practice run. Because the fear underneath is not just of betrayal, but failure. That if they can't work together they will fail to save the world, and thus everyone in the world. What's that really look like if that happened and you could lose for real? And not know what happens to them if they fail.

Some A+ reality TV content produced by Mori Entertainment. They might win an Exandrian daytime Emmy. Look at all that abject bubbling missery being created. An incredible feast willingly given. All they have to do is be normal for them in her vicinity and they basically asked her to feed off them as a favor to try an unsanctioned new therapy method on humanoid subjects. If she does nothing to hurt them except giving them games they asked for, she still gets a gourmet meal.

Nana Mori is simultaneously being a doting grandmother and a terrifying fey nightmare and Bell's Hells are like "please grandmother I think your death traps could fix me."

Will dopplegangers fix them? That remains to be seen. Depends on how they handle it. But they'll have a trial run to know for sure. That gives them time to break for real or adjust. Mori IS the fate stitcher, and thread came to her begging to be sewn. She plucks the strings that she finds most interesting. And whatever else they are, Bell's Hells are very interesting.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #critical role campaign 3 #Bell's Hells #Nana Mori

[drdemonprince]

So, I know you wrote an article on RSD from a non-pathologizing lens a while ago. I was curious if you’ve experienced rejection sensitivity personally and what has helped you address it.

So, for those who haven't read it, ultimately my take is that what we call being "rejection sensitive" is in fact a perfectly sensible, rational reaction to being in a highly threatened social position, where ostracism and isolation always feels like a very real and present risk that comes with very high stakes. It's not a mental illness to be afraid of being alone -- humans die when alone. It's not a mental illness to be afraid of being left alone when you often have been.

And the only way to get over that entirely rational fear is for you to actually not be in a state of almost constant social threat anymore. It's not a matter of internal work -- or not internal work alone. For rejection to be less terrifying, we have to be in a stable and well-connected enough place that one person disliking us won't actually mean that we lose the ability to eat or be housed or feel alive.

Some of this we can improve by building healthier relationships, advocating for ourselves, meeting new people, developing new skills, spreading out how we get our emotional needs met across a variety of trustworthy people, and even by leaving bad housing situations and bad jobs -- but some of those changes are far harder than others, and aren't immediately accessible to everyone. And so, if you're in a situation where rejection means you will suffer pretty intensely, recognizing that fact isn't the problem.

[place-called-space]

it’s finals week and i’m genuinely dying trying to write all these final projects and essays for my classes but... there’s a smutty one shot idea for our favorite lawyer that’s been rattling around in my brain for ages and i’m not sure if i can ignore it for much longer🫣

it'll be my first relatively plotless one shot that i'd post on this hellsite but there's been such a drought of matty fics recently that i feel compelled to feed and water the masses

i probably won't get around to actually writing it until after this week, and we'll be lucky if i post it by the end of next week, but for now let me set the scene 🫶🏼

content warning: dom/sub dynamics (orgasm control/denial, ruined orgasm, edging), semi-public phone sex? (matt’s in his office with the door closed but it’s implied that karen and foggy are in the next room), masturbation (male and female, but neither of them actually cum), fingering, reader is ✨sexually frustrated✨ so she slips into subspace easily, body worship/fantisization? (reader has a very active imagination and she actively imagines several naughty situations with matt), reader’s wet dream (not super detailed, just mentioned in passing)

it feels like it's been weeks since the two of you have spent any real time together.

the firm has been busy with some high-paying client that they're not in a financial position to turn down, so it's been all hands on deck for the better part of the last month. matt has to leave before you get up, but he nudges you awake to say goodbye, pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting you know if he has a lunch meeting or not so you can call and hear his voice for a blessed 30 minutes.

and because the universe hates you, matt's duties as daredevil haven't eased up either. all you've been able to get out of him is that he's been staking out one of the smaller crime families in hell's kitchen that have been looking for an opportunity to gain more power. he hears whispers of smugglers and arms deals and he barely has time to scarf down some eggs and toast-

(carbs and protein to hold him over until he can turn in for the night and warm up the plate you always left for him)

-before he's sheathed in kevlar and leather, shouting over his shoulder to not wait up for him before fleeing out the roof access door.

and of course you miss him.

you used to make coffee for you both as he got ready for work, chatting idly about that crime docuseries karen had recommended and getting matt to translate the legal jargon. you'd loop his tie around his neck, tightening the knot before pulling him down for a kiss, passing him his briefcase before sending him off to work.

he'd come home after work, smiling as he came through the door because he'd been able to hear your voice from the lobby as you made dinner, singing along to one of his favorite vinyl records. soft jazz and pasta sauce and you would smother his senses as soon as he stepped into the apartment and as soon as he shucked off his shoes and set his briefcase down, he'd round the kitchen island and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling at your neck and peppering your skin with kisses, reveling in the delighted giggles you let out.

but with his new schedule, the apartment seemed so empty.

you were eating alone and washing one set of dishes, sleeping in a bed too big and too cold for just you. you missed the way his arms would wind around you as you slept, the fearsome vigilante that struck fear into the hearts of criminals throughout the city suddenly becoming a cuddle octopus, greedy to feel your skin on his.

you missed all the small, sweet things about him, the romantic moments that would make your heart melt... but you also missed the steamy, intimate moments where your hands would wander each other's bodies, unwilling to be separated for even a moment.

it had been weeks since you'd had sex, and you missed the way his cock split you open, the low, hoarse growl his voice would become as he crooned poisoned honey into your ear, the delicious mix of praise and degradation turning your brain to mush.

you could feel your own impatience building with each night you went unsatisfied, a dull ache beginning to throb between your legs as your body struggled to adapt. you'd gone from cumming at least once a day to nothing at all in the blink of an eye, and you were having trouble adjusting.

waking up to an empty bed for the third week in a row had nearly sent you into a fit, your panties already soaked through from the remnants of a blissful dream where matt had tied you up, your legs bent and spread wide as he toyed with your puffy folds, his fingers slick with your arousal as he'd slowly slid them inside you...

fed up, your hand had already dipped below the waistband of your sleep shorts, your fingers barely brushing your clit, a soft moan leaving you as your body finally got some relief-

but then your phone rang, matt's handsome face beaming up at you. taunting you.

you answered the phone with a breathy call of "matty" because you knew he'd heard you and two could play at that game, and the low octave with which he says your name makes you moan again, pleasure sparking to life in your core as you sink two fingers into your drooling cunt.

matt calls your name sharply, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"naughty girl," he admonishes, his voice somehow both sweet and condescending. "so impatient. i'd wondered how long it would take you to break, but i didn't expect it to be so soon."

you whine into the receiver, your anger melting away as you remembered you hadn't been the only one suffering these last few weeks. it must've been nothing short of torture for matt to wake up to the smell of your arousal, his rapidly swelling cock nestled against your ass, aching and eager to satisfy the primal urge to mark you in every way possible. and yet, every morning, he'd forced himself to ignore it, to take a cold shower and hurriedly get dressed, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling out of the apartment, still half-hard.

the thought only made you more desperate for him. god, did you wish he was here with you, with his much thicker fingers stuffing your pussy, stretching you out and prepping you so you could take his thick cock. you wanted him under you, breathlessly kneading the flesh of your tits as you bounced on his cock, your eyes rolling back as his impressive length dragged against that special spongey spot inside you with each smack of your hips against his, your cunt squeezing him tight and drawing out the pleasure for both of you.

but the apartment was empty and his side of the bed was cold, his scent faint on the silk sheets you both adored. a pang of loneliness hit you then, wanting his skin on yours and his voice filling your head with mindless praise.

frustrated tears stung at your eyes, but you were determined to make the most of this. you had him on the phone, you had a shot at getting what you wanted. all you needed was a few more words from him, maybe a countdown if you were lucky. you were so worked up, you could probably cum just from him reading you the new york penal code.

so you beg.

"please, matty," you whine prettily, another breathy little moan leaving you as you begin to pump your fingers in and out of your dripping pussy, the friction delicious after so long with nothing. "i need-"

"what you need," matt cuts you off swiftly, his voice so dark and commanding even through the phone that your body freezes, "is some manners. i enjoy spoiling you, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you can cum without permission."

the whine you let out this time is significantly more petulant than before, the sound high and needy, but matt quickly curbs your bad attitude with another click of his tongue, his disapproval clear.

"don't be a brat," he says, patronizing and confident in his control over you. "just because i've been busy doesn't mean i forgot about my sweet girl."

the pet name makes your breath catch in your throat. matt hardly ever called you that. he'd always preferred the softer, more affectionate nicknames. sweetheart. darling. the occasional honey and sweetie.

but sweet girl? that coveted term of endearment had always been wreathed in coarse shadow instead of suave charm, cooed in the low, dangerous tone of the Devil.

your cunt clenches around the fingers you still have buried within yourself, though they had long since stalled their movements, and matt, damn him, somehow knows that he has you hooked, a satisfied purr meeting your ears.

"there we go," you hear him murmur, pleased. "there's my sweet girl. so good for me, i didn't even have to tell you to stop. no punishment for you, then, but you'll still have to earn your reward."

the breath that leaves you is half desire, half relief, already squirming on the bed. surely he just wanted a show, something to hold him over until the work day was done and he could come home and have his way with you. your moans would replay in his head all day, your breathless cry of his name making his cock twitch beneath his desk every time it echoed through his mind, his thoughts muddled and disjointed as he struggled to focus on the case.

"tell me what to do," you plead, your own thoughts already growing fuzzy around the edges, dizzy with anticipation of the climax he was sure to grant you. "miss you so much, matty... i wanna be good…"

matt groans low on the other line, an excited shiver running through you as you hear the barely audible "fuck" accompany the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling.

"need to hear you, sweet girl," he hisses. a shaky exhale leaves him next, and you imagine he's just freed his cock, the vein running along the shaft throbbing. the tip is probably flushed a dark pink and probably already leaking salty precome, his balls heavy and full from almost a full month of not satisfying himself.

christ, was your mouth watering?

"go on, sweet girl," matt tells you, his voice hoarse. "keep touching yourself. make yourself feel good."

far be it from you to disobey a direct order.

your fingers began thrusting once more, your low, breathy moans becoming high and whiney within minutes, not making an effort to silence yourself. matt wanted a show, so you were going to give him one, noise complaints be damned.

it doesn't take long for the knot within your belly to tighten, your body teetering on the edge of a long-awaited orgasm. you were practically half-delirious, so grateful for the pleasure that you'd already begun expressing your gratitude, your thanks garbled and slurred but genuine nonetheless.

you don't hear the mean, condescending bark of laughter, too caught up in your own ecstasy. you were so close, your forearm burning and your cunt beginning to pulse as you neared the edge, your jaw falling slack as you prepared for the monumental release of pleasure-

"stop."

your body obeyed without consciously thinking about it, your fingers slipping out of you. your poor cunt clenches and flutters around nothing, feeling achingly empty as your pleasure stalls and curdles, spoiling like milk in the sun.

you lay there for a moment, your chest heaving as you try to figure out what happened. your pussy was sensitive and tingling, still pulsing weakly with a ruined orgasm that had given you no satisfaction. you wanted more, damn it, but most of all, you wanted him.

"matty," you cry brokenly, vision blurry with frustrated tears. "why did you... why..."

Your rambling was slurred but audible to your tormenter, his delighted chuckles making you shudder.

"sorry, sweet girl," matt said, not an ounce of remorse in his voice, "but i wanna be there with you when you cum. i need to feel that pretty pussy squeeze my cock, need to hear you moan my name as i fuck you."

he lets out a strained groan, and you imagine he has his fist wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, preventing himself from reaching the pinnacle he'd so cruelly snatched you away from.

you hadn't cum, but neither did he.

you whine at the thought, your pussy still fluttering weakly. you sniffle quietly, still mourning your ruined orgasm, and there's a burst of static, like he'd just sighed.

"you did so well for me, sweetie," matt murmurs, his tone no longer mean, but warm and loving. "i know it hurts, but i'll make it up to you tonight. i'll make you feel so good, you'll forget this ever happened."

though your eyes are still glassy with tears, matt's subtle switch in temperament did wonders for your mood, the promise of pleasure soothing your wounded pride. you sniffle again, working up the courage to meekly inquire, "promise?"

matt hums again, and you can imagine the pleased grin on his face as he purrs your name, the sound of his voice making you melt.

"i promise."

a/n: my brain literally couldn’t focus on anything else while i had this mf rattling around in there. this will be an actual oneshot at some point where we actually get some gratification, maybe even a two-parter! depending on how fried my brain is after cranking out multiple 2k word finals, it could be posted in either 5 days or 5 years or anywhere in between.

i do actually like writing guys i swear 😭 but i’m a humanities major so i do a lot of writing for my degree and my free time consists of thinking about the roman empire (for my major) and reading greek philosophy (also for my major).

glad i got this out as proof of life, didn’t mean to be horny on main but there is no other valid response when it comes to mr. murdock. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know what you think!

- estrella ★

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #no use of y/n #x reader fic #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #x reader #nmcu fic #nmcu daredevil #marvel daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #fanfic #fanfiction #second person pov #2nd person pov

[genericpuff]

I think what gets me the most annoyed about LO currently is how I just don't care about Rachel's attempts to make the story seem more high-stakes than it really is. Apollo has no real power, Kronos was defeated by bees so why should I care about him now, everyone is instantly on Persades' side, Persephone will get any excuse to not hold her accountable for her mistakes, and Ouranos is simply too late-stage and underdeveloped for me to take them seriously. If this is Rachel's attempts to bring people back or keep them around, she's vastly unaware of what her readers actually want and want she's capable of writing. None of this is compelling, it's just frustrating.

You didn't mention it but even the fact that we as readers know now that Apollo can't use Persephone's powers without her actually being in love with him... it's such a narrative buzzkill?? So now we're spending all this time on some "Apollo twist villain" plotline that we know won't lead to him winning because we already know it won't work. IDK if this was Rachel attempting some sort of dramatic irony thing - when audience members are aware of something the characters aren't, ex. the complete misunderstanding that was Juliet's "death" that resulted in Romeo actually dying - then she completely misunderstood how dramatic irony actually works, you can't inform the audience of something the characters don't know if it's something that removes any and all tension. There are no stakes now. We know Apollo can't use Persephone's powers. So we're either gonna get Apollo realizing he can't do it and have that just be his downfall (predictable) OR we're gonna get some sudden retconned plot point that technically Apollo can use her powers because of the assault (big yikes). Or some other third thing that Rachel will inevitably pull out of thin air to write herself out of a corner.

Overall it speaks to her lack of actual storytelling skills - she's alright at coming up with neat standalone ideas, but she's not good at weaving them into a story, and she's especially not good at actually coming up with organic re-interpretations of things that inspire her; rather she often just rips whatever she likes from things she's watched and throws them into LO without any understanding of why those things were actually well written, she puts them in because "well I liked the scene where the Beast got bathed by his house servants so I'm gonna put the same thing in LO!"

It's very much like - dare I say it and possibly invoke many more asks in my inbox - a certain indie production you may have heard of called RWBY. Constantly yoinking elements out of other shows and movies to put into the show, while not understanding why those elements worked so they come across as flat first steps rather than fully developed ideas.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #anon ama #ama #anon ask me anything

[susurra-fr]

Speaking of the coli.

I think my clan lore will treat the Coliseum as an actual coliseum. It's an entertainment venue where dragons show off their combat prowess while an audience roots for their favorites.

All the different venues are magical stages or set pieces to add drama and indicate the level dragons are fighting at. The monsters are some kind of hologram inspired by Sornieth wildlife. (At one point, the coliseum captured actual animals, much like the real Roman coliseum. This practice was abandoned because it's unethical and, frankly, more expensive than the simulation is.) In-game "level" is a representation of a dragon's coliseum standing, and determines which stages they have access to. The goal is to survive as many rounds as you can. Rewards are randomized loot and increased standing, which allows access to more prestigious stages and perhaps better loot.

The Coliseum is run by Shadow dragons, probably Nocturnes. Shadow flight is all about games, entertainment, and winning, after all; what's blood sport if not an extremely high-stake game?

Night of the Nocturne is a promotional event designed to draw more traffic to the coliseum. The showrunners add high-value loot to attract more contestants, and a slew of fanciful mimic foes to add more spectacle and wow audiences. The whole thing is highly profitable and pays for most of the Coliseum's annual expenses.

#flight rising #flight rising lore

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Here is my role reversal AU where the Kittisawats are the powerful mafia family, and the Theerapanyakuls are the poor brothers cousins trying to survive. Also they’re all sex workers. 

Tankhun is the overworked and overstressed eldest trying to take care of his family. Korn is a sick old man, likely to die any day now, and Gun is their shady, unreliable uncle who takes advantage of his brother’s failing health and the boys for his own gain. He’s part of a low-level gang; robberies, muggings, minor car theft. Nothing that would get the attention of actual organized criminals. A scumbag. 

Kinn and Vegas are the primary supports. Tankhun does his best, but he’s got his own trauma to work through. Kinn is the bartender fucking patrons for extra tips; Vegas is just a prostitute, and he doesn’t try to hide it. He also deals drugs on the side, and sometimes is forced into helping with Gun’s crimes. First as a lookout when he was young, then as an active participant. Kinn and Khun both fight with him about his methods. Kinn, because he thinks Vegas is reckless, getting involved with his father like that. He won’t be able to avoid the police forever if he keeps engaging in violent crime. Vegas thinks none of them can afford to be scrupulous with their morals, and none of them can deny that he delivers. 

Tankhun, a former prostitute himself, until he was kidnapped and… had a bad time… scolds Vegas for being so reckless with his own sex work. He’s terrified of anyone in his family going through the same things he did. Now he’s agoraphobic as hell, terrified of strangers, and only manages to pull himself together for the sake of his family. He still does sexwork, but now he’s just a camboy; there isn’t much else he can do that doesn’t require him to leave the house, when he’s a college drop-out with no qualifications or marketable skills. 

Kim’s bright plan was to become a YouTube sensation, get famous, and make it so none of his family ever has to work again. It doesn’t pan out quite that way. He does have and maintain a channel for his music, sharing recording equipment with Tankhun, but it’s small time. He does have a significant amount of subscribers; between that and his patreon, it’s not enough to live off of, but it’s enough for him to put himself through school. Anything extra he gets goes towards his family; Tankhun always tries to protest, but Kim can see the way some of the tension leaves his eyes when he doesn't have to worry about the month’s bills. Unlike the elder cousins, the closest Kim ever comes to sex work is playing his guitar shirtless on his patreon. Maybe a couple times people have offered to pay him for ~extra services~, but he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

Macau is still in high school. He tutors people for extra cash (read: does their assignments for a hefty fee) and helps Kim edit his music/videos. Wants to be a DJ someday. The two of them are close, as the babies of the family. Closer than Kim is to his own brothers, but the same can’t be said for Vegas; he and Macau are thick as thieves. 

One day Kinn gets a job as a personal bartender. He doesn’t bother trying to hide that he’s working for Porsche Kittisawat, and Kim isn’t shy about calling him a kept boy. He doesn’t begrudge his brother the choices he makes, he just wishes Kinn didn’t have to make them. Kinn puts up a good front, but Kim knows the craves the intimacy of a lasting relationship. He’s desperate for something real. To love and be loved. Kim is too jaded to stake any belief in finding something like that. 

Then he meets Chay. 

Chay is actually a fan of his. A very generous fan who regularly makes sizeable donations. Kim owes his upgraded recording equipment to Chay’s generosity, though he has no idea who his online benefactor is. 

Kim is local talent. Sometimes he gets called to play small shows every once in a blue moon. Kinn is pretty good at pulling the strings to get Kim booked at his club, courtesy of Porsche, who’s really making the offer on Chay’s behalf. It’s how Kim ends up meeting Chay. Not that he makes the connection. 

Chay is in the crowd, watching him with more interest than he thinks he’s earned. Kim thinks it’s regular attraction, the kind he’s used to. Used to it dropping off when people get to see the real him too; his pretty face isn’t enough to make up for his ugly life, especially when his personality isn’t enough to act as a buffer. Kim buys him a drink after the show anyway. They talk, they flirt, Chay admits to being a fan, which is nice. Kim’s never been recognized before. 

They start seeing each other. Kim still doesn’t connect Chay ro Kinn or to his favorite subscriber. Thanks to Kinn (and Chay’s) efforts, he keeps doing shows. Gets booked for better clubs as he proves himself able to handle it. He doesn't want to know what it cost his brother; he hopes it’s not too much, and Kinn always assures him he’s fine. He seems to mean it, and Kim is just selfish enough not to question it if it means his dream coming true. He starts promoting his shows online, and Chay is there at every one. Pretty soon that leads to seeing each other outside of shows, too, then going on dates. 

It’s building towards something. But before they can fall over that edge, Kim finds out about everything. The mafia, Chay’s subscription, Chay getting him these shows. All but paying for him. Kim is devastated. He knew better than to trust Chay from the start, it was too good to be true, and now look at what’s happened. 

He goes to his family. 

Tankhun, shrewd as ever, tells him it doesn’t change anything just because he knows now. Vegas, ruthless, tells him to use Chay for everything he’s worth until the money dries up. Macau thinks it’s romantic; that Chay admired him from afar, only for them to meet by chance and fall in love. Except they didn’t meet by chance, and Kim isn’t in love. 

Kinn understands, though. Kim didn’t expect him to. He didn’t give his brother enough credit. He thought Kinn would be like Vegas and Khun. Instead he tells Kim to follow his heart. He knows Kim isn’t like them, isn’t built for the kind of life where he can set aside his feelings and use someone else for his own gain. He’s too much of an artist for that. 

Kim tells all of this to Chay, who says that he doesn’t want to buy Kim, either. If Kim doesn’t return his feelings, that’s okay. They can go back to the way they were. They can be friends, or Chay can just be an anonymous name on a screen. He wants to be with Kim, but he doesn’t want to pay Kim to pretend with him. 

It’s exactly what Kim needed to hear. 

#cookie writes #kimchay #kinnporsche #Kim thinks he's not a sex worker #surprise he becomes Chay's secret sugar baby and has no idea #(jk it actually causes A Lot Of Problems in their relationship) #(but that's a post for a later date) #Khun and Macau are also going to be adorable #love-hate relationship peak right thre #they fight all day long but then Macau is alone and afraid #Kim and vegas gone for the night #he curls up with Khun for comfort #i have So Many Feelings about this au #i've been percolating on it for week s #spinning it around in my brian #crunching on it #it's that good shit

[doomsdaydicecascader]

wow you’re the first person i’ve seen actually support the retcon, that’s cool

i’ve always been neutral on it but would you be down with explaining your opinions on the retcon?

so my number one feeling is that the way homestuck is most like a game is not in its framing or its many subsystems within itself, but in that homestuck is a challenge to the reader first and foremost. it challenges a lot of existing preconceptions about what stories are, what stories can be.

sometimes this is in some stupid ways, but a lot of the time, it's in very palateable ways. hussie describes stuff like the juxtaposition of the earthbound walksprite panels and hussnasty mode as a "creative power move", something that keeps readers on their toes, something which kind of prods at your expectations and why you have those expectations.

and it helps to ask, what challenge is homestuck presenting to me, the reader, by doing this. this is the repeated motion of homestuck, like. "oh, what, it's insane that there's a whole playable game", "oh, what, it's insane that the fallout and consequences of an entire session of the game is being given in just three walkarounds". rose's arc is a challenge to the idea of a "coming of age" story, how do you come of age into a world where the metrics for growth and maturity and adulthood are denied to you? what if "adulthood" and "maturity" were fake ideas all along? well, if nothing matters, maybe you should have a drink to rest your mind about it.

one of the most direct challenges is the challenge of what death means in a story - there are a lot of stories where death is a bad end for a character. an impactful enough character death can change culture around itself for as long as it remains relevant. but that's not what death is in homestuck. death in homestuck is the freedom from being in homestuck. this is most prevalent with its deployment of gnostic ideas - yaldabaoth's treasure being homestuck itself expresses this most directly. the creator has made a flawed world and encourages the suffering of its inhabitants.

death is freedom from this flawed world, and this is expressed in terezi: remem8er. characters who did terrible things, horrible things, unforgiveable things, can find peace in death.

and i think the retcon is far and away the headiest challenge, the final boss of storytelling in homestuck's terms, because it directly challenges the idea of continuity, which is, by the way, TOTALLY FAKE.

continuity isnt actually real, its a thing youre actively constructing as you read. the drawings, the words, the music, the animation, the gameplay - all these things can help shape the idea of art, but the art itself, that's produced by you, the reader. and i think this is a good time to switch over to talking about the never-ending story for a moment.

the never-ending story is a story about atreyu. he goes on a fantasy quest, one which involves the death of his beloved steed artax, the plight of the world of fantasia, and confrontations with the nothing, this devouring force which threatens to end it. and ultimately, he loses. the forces of the nothing are just too overwhelming for a fictional character to overcome. the stakes are too high, no ending could be satisfactory and not contrived.

but then he doesn't lose.

because the never-ending story, the movie, is about bastian, and the relationship and empathy he builds with atreyu as he follows him on his adventure, and bastian, as the reader, is capable of caring about atreyu and fantasia even as it's been reduced to nothing. and its bastian caring about it, and bringing his own context, his own experiences - the name of his dead mother - to the story, that allows it to be reborn as something that can be completed.

and then he rides on the big luck dragon falkor and barfs on the bullies from the start of the movie.

homestuck is doing the same thing, but filtered through the language of video games. if youre playing ff9 and lose to black waltz #3 or whatever, it's a video game, that's to be expected. just do better next time. you wiped on the trial, it's normal, regroup and pull again. youve got 90 minutes. and in that time, in that regression, you become the kind of person who could overcome that challenge.

and it's a powerful challenge! it's one most readers don't overcome, because they are still stuck in the terms of thinking about things in what they expect out of it, instead of what it is. and this is kind of the core idea of homestuck.

hussie put it the best themself:

Homestuck, as an examination of all forms of creative practice, whether cosmic or artistic, isolates the tension between perfect, celebrated idealization and specific, flawed instantiation. The purity of the ideal is what's initially sought, but the imperfection of the specific is what has true value. Conflict and suffering arise from the guilt and stress associated with overvaluing the former. Deliverance and humanity come from recognizing and embracing the latter.

and honestly, i like what the retcon does for basically all the characters it changes dramatically. people take issue with rose's alcoholism plotline being resolved with vriska_slap.png but i don't really, because rose's alcoholism isn't like, of itself if that makes sense. it's alcoholism as an extension of nihilism, in a way that doesn't reflect real alcoholism, but it doesn't have to. s'a story. things can mean things nonliterally.

and vriska regresses as a character, but i think this specific regression is the core of homestuck. you get the platonic ideal of vriska-ness, one who didn't see and feel the trauma she inflicted on tavros, one who has completely supplanted gamzee's role as the plot-mover guide in the alpha session. and one who only makes token gestures at reparations and atonement for her misdeeds. one who is still obsessed with being at the center. and between 2016 and 2019, i was so certain that she had died a heroic death in act 7 that it is an immovable core plot point of my own comic.

(homework: why would homestuck call act 7 the rapture?)

and like, those pre-retcon characters literally do still exist, they show up in remem8er. remem8er goes unbelievably hard on giving every single dead character in the comic the best catharsis available to them: deliverance from having to be in homestuck. and i mean that entirely sincerely! the best ending for a homestuck character is not being in homestuck. and that's a tough thing for people to get their minds around.

but again, it kind of comes naturally with taking homestuck as it is, and thinking intently about what it's doing, what conventions it's challenging and how it's challenging them. because sometimes it's deeply stupid (decade-plus of thought on the matter has not made the incest any more palateable or understandable)

but sometimes it's the best shit in the whole world

#homestuck #long post