#i want to know what % of dead cells fic ive written (on ao3) by i guess numbee of words

[senselessalchemist]

Youtube waited 2 weeks to recommend me new motion twin game trailer? But served me like 20 jerma clips in that same period that I immediately said "do not recommend" to? Literally don't know what the fuck the algorithm is thinking. (I am begging algorithm stop fucking showing me that streamer man I do not like him I do not want to watch clips of him or compilations or vods or anything.)

I am... torn, because obviously something like this was coming, and I will likely enjoy the game, but I've been so spoiled by semi regular Dead Cells updates and also it's my Thing, and I'm bad at dealing with endings, so this is very bittersweet. More on the bitter side than sweet tbh but I'm actively trying to be a non-bitter person so.

Cute little guys tho, can't deny that. Definitely hope the game keeps some of the same visual interest as dead cells b/c probably one of the things that does make me come back to it is the visuals, especially the color palettes. Hades is very good in that regard too (and probably better in terms of style, but I'm a sucker for pixel art), but a lot of games* vaguely in the same arena as dead cells are beautiful but muted and/or deliberately kind of dark/grimy/restricted to very limited color palettes. Based on the fairly limited footage it definitely looks like it will.

*games I've actually played. There could be hundreds of great pretty bright games that get lumped into the same broad metroidvania/roguelike/roguelite/whatever category as dead cells that I havent experienced. Only speaking to what I've been exposed to personally.

[hollowmossart]

Alright I don’t know what prompted this. It’s 11:06 at night, although time is fake so who knows. General TW/CW for mentions of violence and such. It’s fanfiction. side note: these are all fictions I find while scrolling Ao3 that I get stronger reactions to the tags or description from! If any of these are yours and you do not want them here, please message me and tell me

This will also include my reaction to the fan fictions but entirely judging the book my it’s cover (in this case, tags, fandoms, and descriptions) on whether I would read/have read or not. If I’ve read it, there will be a rating/recommendation

-Assimilate by AlacrityAbound-

•words: 2,882•

Rating: Incomplete, Teen+, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Description:

”He saved them all, he had to remember that. He had saved everyone from this terrible fate, from the life he now had to live. They didn’t understand, would never understand, nor would they know the lengths their Voice would go to protect them.”

H-huh??? No no no this sounds painful.

Tags:

“The smiling god”

oh no

”hurt and very little comfort”

EXCUSE ME? PLEASE NO

”believeinasmilingcecil”

OKAY LISTEN. IVE WRITTEN THIS BEFORE. IVE COSPLAYED THIS BEFORE. BUT F-CK THIS AU LMAO

”betrayal”

um. to whom,, may i ask??

Will I be reading this?

Maybe if I grow to a point of numb where I turn to Strex!Cecil in order to feel? Maybe if I just need to cry.

-Dinner Break by StarshipRangerBoyWonder-

Rating: Completed, M/M, General Aud.

•words: 1,717•

Description:

"Cecil’s in desperate need of some food. Lucky for him, Carlos comes to the rescue."

Firstly, this sounds like sm-t, though it’s not marked as being such. I do have to note, one of the fandoms listed, along with the obvious WNTV, is. McDonalds..? Is there actually a fandom?? Secondly, Carlos to the rescue.

Tags:

”Cecil/Chicken Nuggets”

Please.. please tell me this is not a ship. This can’t be right??? Wot?? I’m scared mom come pick me up. I need Carlos and Martin(tma) and my boyfriend in a cuddle pile with me right now.

”duck”

..duck goose?

”Kentucky does not exist” “I repeat” “Kentucky” “does” “Not” “exist”

Gotcha! Makes perfect sense! thank you night vale

Will I be reading this?

likely.. not. the tags mixed with the description have me in fear of my brain cells. i have so few left.

-Absolutely Facinating, Scientifically Speaking, by zombified_queer

Rating: Completed , Teen+, M/M

•words: 584•

Description:

"Carlos was just out doing some shopping when he just about had a heart attack. Still, it was facinating, scientifically speaking."

To be fair, without the tags this one would not have caught my eyes, however, the tags are as follows:

Tags:

"Earl Harlan is a merman"

Okay... Go on..?

"The aquatic hamster ball"

Firstly, huh? I think I have been in one of these. It leaked and got my jeans wet. Secondly, really weird deja vu right there.

"Earl is loosely based on the zebra turkeyfish"

..The what now? DId I miss a few episodes or--

Will I read this?

It is relatively short for my liking, however, I have extrmely curious. I've read the works of this fandom and I've seen just how weird it can be. I might.

A remembrance of strange things, by Pseudothyrum

Rating: Completed, M/M, General Aud.

•words: 630•

Description:

"There isn't enough coffee in the world to deal with Night Vale"

Me reading some of the tags/descriptions of fanfiction at what is now 11:57pm on a Monday. Giving off the vibes of a Cecil POV.

Tags:

"wall tentacles"

... what? yknow.. its not as strange as it could be..

"crack"

ah a crack fic. that last tag is a bit less concerning now.

"definitely not ghosts"

hey uhh i think they're might actually be ghosties.

"blood"

did i accidently find a hannibal x will fic.

Will I read this?

Again, it is super short, so I likely won't. I gotta point out, most wtnv fanfiction would be considered crack fic by any other fandom, so this fandom's idea of 'crack fic' concerns me. I might check it out. Not super high on my look out.

-Endless Wedge, by the_angst_alchemist

Rating: Major Ch. Death, M/M, complete

•words: 1,397•

Description:

"Years have passed since that snowfall way back when, and Carlos can still recall every second when he wasn't able to say those words to the man he cared about. So in order to keep that broken voice preserved in his mind, he's kept his own voice quiet."

..Oh wow. Ow. This one caught my eye with tags that made me giggle, but a caption that made me well aware I will cry upon reading it. The description suggests it is well written, I want to even say beautiful. It also hurts because how dare you make Carlos sad?

Tags:

"Carlos doesn't cope well with death"

:( baby no its okay (Have I mentioned I'm a simp?)

"Cecil doesn't cope well with being dead"

I think that's the general consensus of the public, Ceec

"endless wedge"

Sounds like this is describing an emotion? Maybe the wedge of pain in my heart when I read this.

Will I read this?

Oh no doubt in my wee brain. I wish to hurt this good please. It seems amazingly written judging solely on the description, and has a decent amount of words for my liking! I will update when I have read it. I just noticed it's a part two, so I might have even more pain to bear first.

I will update this post when I go through more! It's currently 12:25AM on 12/01/20 on a god damned Tuesday why did I hyperfixate on this for an hour and a half.

[unholyhelbig]

Knock, Three Times

A/N: Okay, so you guys know that horror is kinda my element. Which makes me sad that I missed out on the first day. I did actually write something but didn’t like it- so I might post it later! 

Fic Title: Knock, Three Times. 

AO3 Link

Day #2: Accidentally Summoning a Demon

The hospital’s corridors were bleach white. There was no color to the hallways or even the rooms. Just an undeniable white that countered the fluorescent lights with a brightness of their own. Walls were devoid of posters telling patients to keep their heads up and instead were replaced with chain-locked doors. Deadbolted and impossible to move.

Beca Mitchell chose not to look at those doors, the numbers painted in black and chipping away to reveal even more white. She could still tell that they counted up in even numbers. A little window carved out of each metal slab to give the patient, the prisoner, a better view of the world. Which just happened to be a blank nothingness.

“Don’t’ feel bad for them.” The guard walking with her snapped her from her haze. One of those women who had probably gone straight from the military into a psychiatric hospital. She wasn’t like the nurses dressed in a sunny yellow. She had a gun attached to her belt and her features were stoic with knowledge. “They made choices that threw them in here, just like you made the choice to visit your friend. Most of them are killers and crooks just trying to seem insane.”

“Do you ever believe them?” Beca took to asking instead of denying what the woman had said.

“You can’t believe anything other than what’s in front of you in my line of work, honey.”

Beca decided to leave it at that. It was a cynical way to look at the world, but she understood. Women who drowned their own kids, and men who had purposely driven a van through a campground without stopping. All claiming insanity and sticking to the guilty plea. She didn’t strive to make eye contact with any of them, caged and desperate for an ounce of human contact.

They walked a few more feet before a long stretch of windows let in some natural light. It soothed Beca, seeing the stretch of barbed wire and chain link fence wasn’t the same as a beach view, but it told of a world further from this one.

The guard fumbled with the keys on her belt before pulling one covered with masking tape to the front. Room 113 was written in sharpie sloppily. “Right, well, I will be right outside of this door. You feel uncomfortable, or in danger at all, then you just pound on the wall three times and I’ll pull you out. Handle her.”

“What will you do?” Beca’s voice was tight, scanning over the baton she had on her leather belt, and then back to the gun that was a few inches away. “I mean, you won’t hurt her, will you?”

“Relax, sweetie, It’s a sedative.”

Beca didn’t’ know if that soothed her nerves at all but she again let the words hang in the stale air. She had the nervous instinct to play with her keys that she usually kept in her jacket pocket, but they had stripped her of the whole coat. Took her belt, and her shoelaces too. The tongues of her shoes flopped as they walked to their destination.

The metal door creaked open and the hinges groaned in exhaustion. She was hit with the instant scent of rot, not so much as fruit that had succumbed to the elements- more like an old library that was filled with leather-bound books, pages disintegrating the second gloveless fingers touched the print.

Her room was bigger than Beca would have guessed, not large, but more than a classic jail cell. It was white too, but some letters were tacked to the walls and a small window rested on the far wall, barred and then barred again. There was a metal desk and a bookshelf that was occupied to its capacity. They had started to pile on the floor next to the raised cot that had a folded blanket and one bare pillow.

Beca jumped when the door slammed behind her. The girl who was huddled up on the windowsill didn’t so much as look up from the novel in her grasp. Pale and slimmer than she remembers- Emily Junk looked dwarfed in the grey sweatpants and stained white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her features were shadowed by the outside light. Maybe it was a better view than the barbed wire on the other side.

“They didn’t’ tell me you were coming.” She finally said after a long bout of silence. “I would have tidied up a little bit.”

Beca scanned the girl with wide eyes, those greenish-brown ones finally finding hers with an uncharacteristically simple smile. Too simple for the girl that was trapped in a mandated insane asylum, though, she had read somewhere that they weren’t supposed to call it that anymore. Something about rehabilitation. She had a feeling that Emily was never going to find her way back into society.

“Lighten up a little, it was a joke. It’s okay to laugh.” She spoke again, putting the book down on the nearby desk and adjusting her position so her feet were hanging off her perch. “You look good, California has made you tan.”

“I never went. I put the album on hold for a little, until the trial-“She swallowed thickly, trying to gauge a reaction, but she never got one. “Things need to settle down at home before I make a new one.”

Beca thought she registered a look of guilt from Emily, but she was standing before the other girl was completely sure. Crossing the room to set the book down on the cot and then herself in the corner. Beca could feel the chill of the metal door on her back, almost through her t-shirt. She was pining for that jacket that they had stolen and housed in a plastic bin.

“You know, the only people who visit me in here are my lawyers. And Aubrey that one time. That was in the beginning though.”

“You killed someone, Emily, can you blame them?” A type of fire licked at her stomach. She was told not to say anything, not to bring up why Emily was in here in the first place, that it could damage her recovery process. Beca quickly clenched her jaw shut and looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“You don’t’ have to tip-toe around me, Beca.”

Emily was standing again, directly across from her in the small expanse of blank space not occupied by an item of furniture. Her hands were slack in the pockets of her sweatpants. “What’d they tell you, that I’m liable to snap? To forget everything they’re trying to do to me? Not likely. You can’t erase something like that, no matter how pokey they get with their sticks.”

Beca’s eyes hardened “Why’d you do it, then? Because I’m not buying this whole demon excuse.”

It had all been so fast, raining the night that Beca got the call from Aubrey. Aubrey who had found Emily covered in black syrup in the center of a salt drawn circle. She had panicked, thought it was the younger girl's blood. That’s when she found the neighbor in the bathtub, draining slowly and meticulously. Beca never questioned the design the salt was in or the book that was opened beside her to a blank page. None of it made sense.

“You of all people should be the most willing to accept that as an excuse.” She lifted a brow. “After all, Beca you were the one that told us to stay out of the basement. Said it was haunted. I thought it was just a prank on the new girl- a hazing of sorts.”

Beca’s jaw clenched as she watched the girl meander back over to the desk with hard eyes. She ran her fingers over the dusty surface until they reached the spine of the book. Emily’s stare was filled with longing.

“What exactly were you doing down there all those years?” Emily glanced back up, stray hair falling into her eyes. “raising the dead was my first guess. But then I found that book of yours. It was naive to leave it out in the open like that. Though- I must admit, it was a bit of a challenge to translate all that Latin.”

She was still for a moment, who body rigid as if it were frozen in place. Emily wasn’t as washed as she had thought. It was a simple clean up, hide the book and she looked like nothing more than a girl in the middle of a salt circle covered in someone else’s blood.

Beca let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. What do you want, then?”

Emily looked taken aback by the question. What did she want? Beca was hoping deep down inside that the weight of something like that would puzzle her- the start of a smirk crept against her upper lip. It was unfortunate Beca thought, that someone as sweet as Emily had stumbled upon her book and had read from the darkest page of them all. A cruel trick. Beca almost felt sorry for her in the aspect.

“you’re going to get me out of here,” Emily said.

“Now, I think that’s asking a little too much, don’t you? I mean, you sealed the deal the second you opened your mouth about demons and some ancient spell to summon them. It’s called a secret art for a reason, Em.”

“I’ll tell them about you,” Her voice was flooded with panic. That was another mistake Emily made, confusing hope with the reality of one of her storybooks. “Your book, and your sacrifices, and your… your magic.”

“And who exactly will believe you?”

Beca could smell the bubblegum medicine that they made Emily swallow twice, maybe three times, a day. She was that close. Could see the paleness in her skin and the timid flow in her stance. She had bruises from IV”s in her hand and equally as dark ones around her wrists from straps Beca had failed to notice before.

“Emily, you know how much I adore you and your naive nature, but it’s just that, isn’t it? You say anything about me and they’ll just up your dosages. I think you got confused by my visit here. But if you stick to the program, maybe they’ll let you out one day.” Beca took an even step back. “I’ll keep visiting you, don’t worry.”

She swallowed thickly and tucked her arms closer to her body. Beca couldn’t tell if it was anger or something more. Stirring in her usually placid nature. “Can you at least stop the nightmares?” She asked.

Beca lilted her head with a dark smile and banged on the wall three times.

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} That Old Sweet Feeling (part 31)

Fandom:  The Adventure Zone:  Commitment Rating:  M Chapter Warnings:  None Relationship:  Nadiya Jones/Mary Word Count:  1,237

Here on AO3. Read the rest: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Tagging @someone-called-f1nch, @voidfishkid, @mellowstarscape, and @jumpboy-rembrandt!

Holy shit, I can’t believe we’re finally here. It’s been eight months - almost exactly - in the making. The longest thing I’ve ever written, and the thing I’m (so far) most proud of. Thank you everyone for sticking with me, especially everybody from the TAZ Commitment Discord.

I love you all.

Chapter Summary:   A soft epilogue.

__________________

“No, Mom, I’m fine. I’m talking  to you. I couldn’t do that if I wasn’t fine.”

Nadiya glanced up at a soft tap on her door. There was Mary Sage, wearing a t-shirt and worn jean shorts and holding a potted plant. She waved.

Nadiya smiled and motioned her in. “I mean, yeah, you can fly out if you want. Aren’t England to California, like, literally as far from each other as physically possible, though?” She paused to give Mary Sage a careful, one-armed hug. “Okay, okay! Call me when you get in, okay? I can give you the hospital address.

“No, Dad isn’t coming. Yeah. He emailed me yesterday, you know how he doesn’t like to talk on the phone. Said he was in the middle of something, but if I needed him, he could – yeah, no. Mom, it’s fine. My friends are taking good care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled. “Yeah. Looking forward to seeing you. Love you too.”

Nadiya hung up and set the cell phone on the table by her hospital bed, next to where Mary Sage had put the plant. “Hey, Space Cadet.”

“Hey, Reed Richards.” Mary Sage kissed her on the cheek. “How ya feelin’?”

“Less like shit than I did yesterday,” Nadiya said. “Or the day before. So that’s progress. That plant’s not going to last a week – I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever had.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Mary Sage said brightly, settling on the hospital bed with a slight bounce. “That was your mom?”

“Yeah. Apparently she saw the news and decided to fly halfway across the world to make sure I was all right. Good to know that something  will make that happen, even if it had to be a life-threatening situation.” Nadiya rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling again.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t going to be perfect, between them, but her mom was making an effort, and maybe that was step one.

“Surprised it took this long,” Mary Sage commented.

“It didn’t make international news until this morning, I think.”

Martine may have shot the screens at the press conference, but Jonesy’s camera had still been up and working throughout their entire confrontation in the back room. She and Grace had retrieved the footage and disseminated it to every news outlet they could. As it turned out, it didn’t reflect well on Martine that she ordered the cold-blooded murder of multiple people on camera. Every security officer in the place had been on her as soon as they could get past her guards, anyways.

Because Martine wasn’t dead. What Mary Sage had done – whatever she had done – had ruptured the connections Martine had had with the former members of the Do-Good Fellowship, as well as the people who’d received stimplants since then. According to the news, she was suffering “unexpected neurological side effects” from what had happened.

“Oh, cry me a river,” Mary Sage had said when she heard. “I didn’t have a choice when she fucked up my brain. I’m not sorry.”

Now, Mary Sage flopped back with Nadiya, carefully avoiding her arm with the IV in it. “We heard from Jamie this morning,” she told Nadiya. “She wanted to know whether it was all true. We said yeah, an’ told her about the whole victim of war crimes protection thing or whatever. Sounds like she’s goin’ back to Eureka.”

“I’m glad,” Nadiya said, and was surprised to realize she meant it. “What about the others?”

“I think Irene’s been talkin’ to Flanagan, but Kardala’s been real cagey about it,” Mary Sage said, snickering. “She did say they were good, though, Addison an’ Flanagan. Figurin’ stuff out. Pridmore an’ Abbey are still hangin’ around. I think Grace got ahold of Joe this morning?”

Nadiya made a sound that she hoped adequately conveyed her utter contempt for and disregard for one Joe Carbinner.

“Aw, shut up,” Mary Sage said, giggling. “I know you hate him, but he got screwed over by the Fellowship as much as any of us.”

“Sure.” Nadiya smiled as Mary Sage’s absent fingers found the bracelet she was still wearing and started fiddling with it. “Has, uh… How’s Remy doing?”

“Not great,” Mary Sage said frankly. “Kinda the same as you. Today was better than yesterday was better than the day before. Somebody called him last night – his brother? He cried a lot an’ when he got off the phone he gave everybody a big hug, an’ he’s seemed a little better since then.”

“And you told him I want to see him?”

“Yeah. Might be a couple days, still. I think he knows it wasn’t his fault, but he’s still pretty messed up about it.”

Nadiya sighed. “I guess I don’t blame him. He probably got the worst of this, and that’s counting that I literally got stabbed.” She settled back further into her pillows. “You ever feel like… you can’t quite believe it’s over?”

“Every second,” Mary Sage said without hesitation. “Shit, Nad, this all started for us way before we even knew it had. I know it’s not, like, over  over, with Martine’s trial we gotta testify at an’ everything, and figurin’ out what the hell we’re gonna do now, but… I talked to a lawyer this morning, Nad. A lawyer. He said he’s gonna help me get my parents out of jail, and he only had to look at the case file for like, a second before he said there was more hinky stuff goin’ on than it even seemed like at first. Bribes an’ shit. Didja know that forbidding contact with family members in prison without due cause is a crime?”

“No, but it makes sense. Have they found Richard yet?”

“Yeah, as soon as they raided Martine’s place. He’s under arrest too – aiding an’ abetting. And treason,” Mary Sage added. “Sylvane’d be under arrest too, but he’s in the hospital right now, an’ he’s sayin’ he was controlled like Remy. I call BS, but I guess the feds can figure that one out.”

“God, I want to get out of here,” Nadiya grumbled. “I hate having to hear everything secondhand.”

“Hey, Nad, guess what I realized?” Mary Sage, sitting up and grinning.

“What?”

“Now that we’re not on the run, we can actually go on dates  an’ shit if we want,” Mary Sage said. “There’s a bunch of real great places in San Francisco. I’ve been checkin’ ‘em out so we can go when you get out of the hospital. Bookstores an’ ice cream places an’ coffeeshops an’ whatever. I dunno, that’s what you do for dates, right? I’ve only been on, like, one, an’ we went to Olive Garden, an’ I left early.”

“That’s one more than I’ve been on,” Nadiya admitted. “But that sounds… really good. And then I guess we’ll have to start apartment shopping, huh?”

“Yeah, eventually, once we know where we wanna live,” Mary Sage agreed. “Plus finding jobs, I guess. But we don’t have to worry about that yet, right?”

“Nah,” Nadiya said. “Let’s get through this first. Let everything reset and settle down. And in the meantime, yeah, let’s go on a bunch of dates.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mary Sage said, and kissed the corner of Nadiya’s mouth. “There’s that old sweet feeling again,” she whispered. “You feel it too?”

“Yeah,” Nadiya said. “I do.”

-----

(Tomorrow will take care of itself.)