#like.... they are... a terrible writer....

[frownyalfred]

Hi, what is a polite way to ask authors if they will be updating? Or questions that could be taken as you the reader being negative or criticizing

Here’s my hot take on this — they’re either updating or the story is abandoned, right? There’s only two options at the end of the day. Maybe three, if you count plans to update. So what we’re really saying, as readers, when we ask that question, is I’m excited for this story and I’m worried I won’t see more from it soon. Right?

Getting the “is this fic abandoned?” question on a WIP I haven’t updated in a bit stings for some reason. There’s a lot of reasons why that fic might have stalled! Instead of it feeling encouraging, it can sometimes just feel like a reminder of failure, at least to me. Like oh god, I felt terrible about this writers block and now other people are noticing too.

My advice is, if you truly want to see an author update — talk to them about their fic. Send praise, send commentary, but most importantly, send questions! Ask them why they made certain choices. Ask them the inspiration behind a certain scene or event. Get their brain clicking back into that writing mode! I can’t count how many times a good ask on here has reminded me that I love that WIP and want to continue it.

I would not send negative or criticizing questions to authors unless they’ve made it explicitly clear that they are open to receiving it. If the question can be rephrased into something more neutral like “you did X — I didn’t quite understand that. could you explain why?” that works, in my mind.

[bishopony]

what are y'all's controversial MLP opinions I would love to hear them

[lilianade-comics]

I know most fans have a positive opinion of this episode, and that's totally fine, but D-Stabilized is a TERRIBLE sequel to Kindred Spirits and it raises my blood pressure an unhealthy degree just thinking about it. (Valerie obviously excluded from my ire), It's the dullest thematic follow up possible. It does nothing with the halfas narratively that KS didn't already do and just repeats character beats while simultaneously making them worse, it doubles down on Dani's victim status with the high cost of the most egregious character assassination Vlad ever suffered and whatever characterization SHE could have had if the writers weren't hellbent on making the worst possible decisions with them, it deus ex machina-ed away Dani's destabilization which wasn't earned & felt pointless because it's not like they were going to keep her around at the end, AND it had the sheer gall, the unmitigated AUDACITY to be Valerie's ONLY season 3 appearance.

[iiannabxth]

class of 09: flip side spoilers:

ok so here are my thoughts on it because what the fuck just happened.

i just finished the game and i want my money back. idk if all the writers were on a serious acid trip but this game isn’t like the first two at all. the first two games are super self aware and hilarious, but this one is 100% poorly disguised fetish content. like i unironically feel like jeffery would play this game.

there are five endings. two of them have to do with a foot fetish, jecka’s suicide ending has her randomly naked, and another has her sold into sex slavery??

jecka’s dad is suddenly super terrible btw, which he wasn’t in any of the other games. i wasn’t rooting for him in the first place but like he’s worse than nicole’s mom by a million points.

the writing was just bad and unfunny too. i liked the idea of jecka going to therapy and i think her panic attacks could’ve been actually meaningful, but the rest of the games + plus the endings totally kill any chance of the game having the same depth as the others.

like in nicole’s games, what made her endings so powerful was that the entire game was supposed to be funny and apathetic, so when she gives her ending monologue, they’re actually thought-provoking and lowkey almost philosophical.

all in all i’m super disappointed because i LOVE jecka and i was so excited for a game from her POV, but now that it’s out it’s just so ehhh.

[romeave]

the real reason why mcd zane sucks, from purely a writing standpoint, is that the writers really want him to be a pure evil villian. a force of evil that can not be reasoned with or stopped. absolutely nuance free and unsympathetic no matter how you slice and dice it.

which, would normally be fine, but is a weird choice for zane specifically because the writers keep naturally bringing up ways to give him depth, only to bend over backwards to shut it down once they remember zane is supposed to be cardboard flat for their kid audience to remember he's the bad guy.

and by all the time i do mean all the time. here is a list of roads blocked off by the no development tree that fell across the road:

Zane grew up isolated even by the standards of noble children, as heirs to the O'khasis throne start their training rather young, and, according to accounts about his childhood, Zane preferred to spend his free time alone as opposed to with family. At some point, his father contracted some illness that turns people into asshole tyrants, and began to groom a very impressionable Zane into a good and obedient pawn for him to control on his quest for world domination -> Zane was actually always evil from birth, which makes him immune to trauma. Garte's dickheadness actually only affected the "good" Ro'Meaves, and actually it's Zane's influence that turned Garte into a bad person. Even shit that Garte did long after Zane died are Zane's fault by proxy.

Zane's strained relationship with his brothers are also largely attributed to Zane being evil. Honestly there's a lot I could put here but the most damning one is probably the fact that Zane isn't allowed to talk about his upbringing at all after vaguely mentioning having a dead brother on the docks.

Zane's initially introduced as an ambitious young priest who came to power due to his commitment to his studies. He secretly uses taboo ancient magic that people can't exactly come across if they don't have an obsessive drive to learn about the divines beyond the church's teachings. -> Actually Zane stole everything from "real scholars" and never actually cared about his research outside of what power it could bring him. Apparently he can't even read for himself without a "real scholar" in the room.

Zane's most terrible deeds (Kiki's pendant, Alexis, Falconclaw) were committed in service of opening the Irene dimension. Its implied that some, if not all of the specific deeds needed to open the portal were decided long before Zane ever got his hands on the amulets. -> Each portal-opening crime is treated as its own separate crime, motivated purely by sadism. Falconclaw specifically is referred to as a "horrific mass slaughter Zane had a lot of fun committing", even though everyone involved just painlessly fell over dead

Zane only raises a sword to people to have actively betrayed him. Jeffory betrayed him, the Wolf Tribe was plotting to eat him the next time he showed up, and Garroth committed treason two seperate times and shoved his own sword in Zane's face before Zane tried to kill him about it -> Evidence that Zane is just a bloodthristy killer who would kill his comrades unprompted. His victims are not traitors, but martyrs to his unreasonable wrath

Zane possessed the protector's relic for a period of time. Surely he must've had some reason to hold it -> Zane was entirely undeserving of the relic. He only had it because blood relations.

Despite already having a relic, Zane wants to get Irene's relic -> Exclusively to hoard power! No personal reasons or family reasons or nerd reasons. Just an insanely dangerous and high stakes task done solely to have them all. Like its a pokemon with life steal.

Zane gets turned into a Shadow Knight. Zane used to have an absurd amount of knowledge on the Shadow Knights, lots of shadow knights hate his gay ass, becoming a Shadow Knight is usually pretty traumati--> Zane doesn't feel trauma, duh!! He's actually stronger than ever.

And I know I'm aphblr's foremost Zane dick rider but this isn't a Zane did nothing wrong post its just bad writing. Zane's actions affect so much of the plot its fucking bonkers to give him the depth of an evil sheet of printer paper. Aph's usually pretty good at fleshing out her villians I don't know why the one guy who everyone and their mother has a connection to is just a knife roomba of a man. At the bare minimum he should've been as fleshed out as his brothers because then it'd be a tragic tale about a family being torn apart by a system they benefit from instead of a karma-farming AITAH post set in medival times.

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Confession Time!

So, over on Twitter, I'm a member of the Community Notes, and I can write Notes on any post as well as rate other Community Notes on those posts. This is done to fact check people. You have to provide a credible link as the source of your note before you're able to post it, right?

A bunch of M@rauders stans are attacking Tomarry writers, as usual, and because they can't handle that they like morally grey characters who did sus things, they make up all this shit to excuse those characters of their wrongdoings. Maybe that's why they're so jealous, cuz we can like a shitty character while NOT downplaying the bad he did.

Currently, there is an idea going around that Harry Potter was not abused in the canon story, and that everybody just swears he was abused when it was apparently, never addressed or shown and was just not treated the best. But when any M@rauder stans claim that Sirius was very clearly abused, it's unfair how no one agrees with them...

As such, they've been inundated with people pointing out all the abuse Harry has been through, from Vernon choking him out, Petunia trying to hit him with frying pans, them making him sleep in a closet instead of any of their extra bedrooms, lying about his parents, letting Dudley bully him constantly, punishing him when he doesn't understand that magic is at fault, starving him and his pet, putting bars on his window, etc... EXPLICIT ABUSE.

Now, one person gave a whole list of things that Sirius 'suffered' at the hands of his mother, and they're mad because it was pointed out that none of this actually happened in the story, not from anyone's mouth, and that that's just fanfiction tropes to make his parents worse and easier to hate. Harry's abuse is both told to us and shown as early as Ch. 2 of PS. We get to experience it through him in many ways throughout the books.

So usually, I don't get involved in these things, I just watch from the sidelines and laugh. But I thought it would be funny to put Community Notes on all of these people's posts because they're posting literal misinformation. And it's just funny to look at the post making all these claims and immediately see Rate Proposed Community Notes right at the bottom!

This person is ranting about how there are 'context clues' about Sirius was being physically abused by his family, while claiming that Harry's neglect was never explicit to try and make it seem as if Sirius choosing to leave home because of his parents' beliefs is proof of his suffering and is the same as Harry's blood relations treating him terribly for how he was born, his whole childhood.

When people have to sugarcoat and lessen Harry's experience because they want to uwu their favs so they can feel less bad about what their favs have done in canon... It's the weirdest thing. I'm not borrowing shame from a fictional character over their wrongdoings despite how all my favs are the villains. I'm here for the character, and to be so emotionally distraught over what your fav has done, that you need to gloss over it and invalidate canon over and over, is truly unhealthy behavior.

And then attacking people with different favs/ships than you, is peak madness. Get a life. Go figure shit out. You clearly cannot handle interacting with real people yet.

[luvwich]

✒️ writer interview tag

tagged by @dustdeepsea — tysm, this was great fun! read their answers here and mine, if you like, beneath the cut ✨

When did you start writing?

early 2023 was my first foray into writing actual fiction. prior to that i'd done an embarrassing amount of roleplaying many years ago, which i shall speak on no further, but it did form the basis for a lot of my writing now!

once upon a time, i seriously entertained the idea of an MFA in screenwriting, but went on to pursue something even stupider for grad school 👍

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

honestly everything i enjoy reading gets smuggled into my writing in some form or another!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

there are like 26 different writers where i wish to take bits and pieces of their style, send it all into a meat grinder, and press the gunk into sausage casings to be dipped in batter and deep fried. ideally i want my writing to hit like wagyu beef that's been corrupted into a county fair corn dog. but no i'm not sure i've ever been compared to another writer! that would fuck my shit up truly (in a good way)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

typically curled up on my couch, because the ergonomic status of my home office setup is terrible — potentially lethal. sometimes i stay late at my not-home office, hidden away in a dark conference room, but that's usually only if i'm on a self-imposed deadline (i.e. i've started posting a WIP)

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

the spark that gets me to write is usually some kind of Dynamic that i want to explore so i do a lot of noodling upon situations and then figuring out how to get there. and by situations i mean smut

also, writing bits of dialogue, even if i don't know the context yet. it gets a character's voice and mannerisms in my head, and gives me a little grain to start building on

sadly, going on a hike and/or reading a really good book are both very effective and by far the most time consuming

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

longing, isolation, identity, the difference between the person you'd like to be and the person you are, strained/dysfunctional family relationships, wrong person right time, hope, blowjobs, self-deception, california, fucking your way through it, guilt, social class, mommy issues, mono no aware, oral fingering, etc; they don't surprise me anymore but the first time i finished a long fic and took a step back i was like "ohh haha Damn"

What is your reason for writing?

i am horny, sad n silly

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all forms of feedback are so touching! i think much of what i write is pretty niche, so simply knowing someone has read my stuff gets me pumped. a big essay of a comment is like receiving a love letter, and comments that are just an emoji are like someone's tucked a little note in my lunchbox, and both are incredibly nourishing to me. as far as motivation, though, anything that implies someone is looking forward to reading more is the surest way to light a fire under my people-pleasing ass

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

affable wretch, trickster, wine aunt

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

i'm not sure any one thing stands out: i believe i'm pretty good in a few areas (dialogue, sensory detail, characterization) and notably lacking in others (action, "plot," pacing, not getting high on my own supply)… okay i'll stop being an asshole though and say my strength is in "delivering on a mood," if that is a thing

How do you feel about your own writing?

generally good. for one, i'm proud of myself for ever finishing and posting anything, because following through on shit isn't something i'm renown for. i tend to hate everything i write after i've gotten some distance from it, but i think that's normal? right? i'm new at it and it's all for fun so i try to be gracious with myself, with mixed success, because beneath my goofy exterior i do take everything too seriously

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

mostly for myself; i do abstractly ask "would someone who isn't me enjoy this?" and never quite know the answer. like most humans i crave external validation and connection, but like a cactus i can survive on just a lil rainfall 🌵

tagging w/no pressure (but with my best barbara walters impression) @corpocyborg @ghostoffuturespast @merge-conflict @streetkid-named-desire @writing-for-soup

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/761515549638475776/i-think-the-grrm-situation-is-quite-telling-in-how

First of all: Fire and Blood is an in-universe historical text of extremely questionable veracity, given the (again, in-universe) biased sources recording the events. Beyond that, House of the Dragon was never meant to be like, 'what really happened'--it's an adaptation somewhat based on the material from the in-universe historical text, taking quite a few liberties in the process, because that's how adaptations work especially when the medium is so far removed from the source.

Secondly, GRRM didn't lash out at the executives who made decisions like, oh, cutting two entire episodes from the season's episode order--no, he was laying the blame almost entirely at the feet of other writers, despite having been so heavily involved in the adaptation at just about every level. (This is far more than most authors get in terms of having a say in the adaptation of their work.)

Third, no one put a gun to his head and forced him to sign over the rights to his work to HBO. The fact that he is in talks about so many adaptations of his material with the same damn company says that this is largely a situation of his own creation. No one made him do any of that! I'm sure the money is very nice, but it's a little disingenuous to pocket all that money and then cry about the adaptation not going perfectly according to his vision. And in fact I'd argue that the show is weaker for trying to adhere to specific beats from the source text rather than letting it grow organically from the seeds that had been planted even if those take it in wildly different directions. There's no need for Bitterbridge if you give Helaena something more to do than just be one more mom sad about another kid dying--and sure it is kind of disappointing that the show is not doing much with the opportunity it has to improve on the source material. But the problem there is not in the adaptational changes to the narrative, it's in the way they are failing to tell a cohesive story in the first place.

But I just have a very hard time feeling any sympathy for someone who watched the way the first adaptation of his work ended up widely panned with a notoriously terrible final season, and promptly signed up for like six more shots with the very same company. If he didn't learn his lesson the first time around, am I supposed to care that he feels his work is being disrespected? You invited the devil back into your house, my guy!

--

[lockedfighter]

to those who are consistently so patient with my slow butt —- i thank you from the bottom of my heart . i’m constantly worrying about my lack of replies & concerns that people will deem me as uninterested but i can honestly say , that’s not the case at all . please forgive me if i don’t respond straight away . i have a couple of threads that are two months old ( and i’m so sorry , it’s taking me so long , loves ) . i’m trying to be faster and give the very best like people give me . i noticed i was no longer mutuals with a few wonderful writers in my drafts ( & while i do feel saddened by such , i completely understand and wish you all the absolute best ! ) but it did make me worry that i’ve been a terrible writing partner and just had to apologise . i shall cherish those threads deeply and will focus on everything i can so to not keep people waiting much longer going forward .

that being said , if i follow you ; i am 100% interested in interactions ! i may not be on all the time to like everything or respond quickly to ims but trust me , i would adore being friends and writing together at some point . i am so interested in your characters and lore / the stories we can create so pls never think otherwise . and to those who do follow me , genuinely thank you so so much ! i’m so grateful to be involved in such a wonderful community . i just felt i had to come on and express my apologies / appreciation . ♡

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

i have a proposition to make to the fire emblem fandom in regards to ai bullshit: we makalov the face of the anti-ai movement depending on how different systems are set up, be it for those who write, those who draw, etc, there are likely ways to rig the system to overload the systems with specific things which is why i suggest we use makalov for this those who have played the tellius duology know he isnt exactly the greatest guy, and also know that mod goldmary seems to be the exception not the rule when it comes to how people view him as a character, so when people try to cheat by using stolen work feed to an ai to create some garbage about fire emblem? they can never escape that piece of shit no matter how hard they try, they'd be lucky if they even see marth no idea if it still applies but i know tumblr had it set up where each specific blog and side blog needed to go into settings to disable ai feeding, if that is still the case then it should be easy to just create a side blog just for the purposes of fucking with the systems when it comes to art just go nuts, don't have any specific things aside from putting so much makalov dna into the system that it thinks fire emblem lords have pink hair instead of blue, maybe purposefully fuck up the hands and other limbs and whatnot so they can never fully fix that issue meanwhile for writing, oh boy i got ideas, smut writers this is your time to shine! make the most nasty vile shit imaginable(while still being legal ofc just gross) and always include makalov in it, heck maybe mess the system up by ruining the lore on purpose and putting him in games he's not supposed to be in, want to have an ai write a fanfiction about awakening? too bad you lazy sack of shit you'll never escape this pink haired horse man no matter what timeline you try seeing as the purpose of these writings is to mess up any bot trying to create fanfiction this also means those who are horrible when it comes to writing can also join in! purposefully misspell and misuse words, throw proper grammar out of the window, and act like this is just how human language naturally works! also those who are good at writing can also purposefully not write good, though as a writer myself i know that is easier said then done at this point, it isn't meant to be posted to your main accounts but rather an extra expendable account just made for the purposes of ruining ai for fire emblem, or if we're lucky ai in general! tl;dr: it would be really fucking funny if this wretched bastard of a man named makalov became known for being the anti-ai symbol of the fandom

Terrible idea. There's already hundreds of thousands of fe images and fanfics in their database, a few pieces of makalov art and fics will not change much. Also making stuff specifically to ruin ai is just not a smart idea. Make something bc you enjoy it instead.

I know you mean well, but please do proper research before you suggest something like this :(

If you really wanna troll with makalov, then join the makasweep for cyl9 and vote for makalov!

[popjunkie42]

Painted Blind: Chapter Four

Read on AO3

Chapter Four: As admiration and worship for the hero of the human lands grows, Feyre chafes under the attention. At an unexpected announcement, she watches her future spiral out of her control.

Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher and @rosanna-writer for beta reading!

Chapter Four under the cut.

Nesta slapped at my skirts for the third time since the speeches had begun. I was tugging at the lace collar on this fucking dress…

I dropped my hand and scowled.

The itch of the wool, the tightness of the collar that choked back every swallow…it was oppressive.

The afternoon sun was pale, as if sensing its power had fully waned on this, the longest night of the year. Standing uncomfortably on a wooden stage, my sisters on one hand, my father standing with the mayor and his family behind a podium, I did my best to ignore the crowd.

They stretched out before us, three times the number of people in our little village, most of them in fine hats and suits and rich winter dresses. All of them staring up at us. My skin was hot, even in the cold of the early evening.

The mayor had started droning on a while back, something I couldn’t pay much attention to. A jolly bustle of a man, he looked fat and happy with his wealth, his cheeks ruddy in the winter cold. He smiled easily, and the fit of his suit was immaculate. I wondered if what his family was wearing today cost more than my entire reward.

The speeches had begun after lunch, a picnic where my sisters and I had tried hard to pretend we weren’t hungry, that we saw this sort of lavish spread on the regular. Roasted chicken and small pheasants dressed with winter vegetables, glimmering slices of ham, golden rolls with pats of butter that glistened, spiced wine and candied winter berries for dessert. I watched Nesta swallow thickly as she spooned a moderate, polite amount of food on her plate. Next to me, Elain was licking the greasy chicken fat off of her dainty fingers and trying hard to hide it. Despite all our mother’s hissed lessons about small, dainty bites and demure ladylike appetites, we all ate until we groaned.

The entire town had gathered around, now staring rapt at me and the garrulous mayor, the breath of them all rising up in the cold like steam above their heads.

“Wipe that look off of your face,” Nesta hissed.

We had been taken to the town last night. Given rooms at the mayor’s house, each bedroom finer than our whole cottage. In the morning, I had been bathed and scrubbed and plucked until my skin burned. The maids tutted at my cracked nails and the dirt underneath they couldn’t quite scrub clean.

Afterwards, they had shoved me into a frilled woolen dress. A monstrous thing. Stockings and corsets and lace trim and shoes with heels so high my arches ached. I stumbled around the room like a newborn fawn, clasping and flexing my good hand into anxious fists. I had the overwhelming urge to rip the entire outfit off and run into the woods.

I swallowed the desire to tug at my collar again, the lace itching against my dry skin. It choked me, like a snare around my neck.

Clothing like this hadn’t been in our closets since I was a child. But the feeling was still familiar, my clumsy small hands ripping away my skirts and sleeves, rushing outside to climb the willow beside the manor, mother furious with me after all the dirt and ruin.

And now Nesta was here to take her place.

My sister wore the slightest of confident smiles, looking regally over her upturned nose at the crowd below. Elain beamed, her face full of joy and sunlight even in the pale wintery afternoon. Both of them looked aggravatingly at home in their new finery, warm in their spotless coats and scarves and soft leather gloves.

A terrible itch creeped up my neck, down my spine.

Standing there, I felt a nagging sensation, like I was in the woods and hadn’t yet spotted something that had spotted me.

Looking across the stage, I saw the Mayor’s son, glaring. As soon as my eyes met his, I swore he looked away with distaste.

He was young, probably about my age or just a year younger. Brown hair, pale skin, soft hands. His eyes were dark and his mouth was locked into a sullen pout.

I had no doubt he was the type to stay far from the forest. Probably had never skinned a rabbit, or felt hunger in his belly.

Apparently, I had offended him personally.

With a wistful smile, the mayor turned to me, and I wished I had been paying better attention. My heart thundered as all eyes in the crowd focused on me.

“We have lived in fear,” the mayor said, turning back to the gathered crowd. The people of Innisville, our old village, the ones that forgot me and my family so easily when the money slipped away. “Even though we live in freedom from faekind, even after five hundred years, we are still controlled by the wall and the terrible things that breach it. We have let ourselves be splintered by disagreements and differences, while the real enemy threatens us from beyond. Our true enemy takes advantage of the discord among us. It is only if we join together that we can push back the dangerous creatures waiting to descend upon us in the dark of night.”

A hearty cheer rose up, mist in the cold.

No wonder he was mayor.

But his words fell flat on my ears. I had suffered more under the hands of my fellow man than any fae or beast, the monster in the cave included.

“Sometimes,” he boomed, his magnanimous smile back on me like the sun, “it takes a great act of bravery and sacrifice to bring us together. It takes an extraordinary person to remind us that we are one. That we are powerful together.” Cheers and murmurs of ascent were bubbling up from the crowd, an echoing call.

I hated every moment of it.

I wasn’t brave, or selfless. I hated the grand sentiments, when all I had ever wanted was a full stomach and safety for my family. I hated the eyes on me, eyes that weeks ago would’ve scorned us. Fine boots that would have kicked at us, teeth that would have gnashed.

But Nesta’s hand was on my back, warm but unyielding, and she pushed me just a few steps forward towards the crowd, my feet stumbling.

“Our entire land has been blessed by this fearless and exceptional girl. Feyre Archeron, the hero of the human lands!” More cheers, and my name ringing across the crowd, from mouths that would have spit on me only weeks before. “Her talents were born out of hardship, but her undaunted spirit belongs to all of us living below the wall and the land of the fae. Although we will always remember those that we lost, we thank the girl who went out into the forest alone, and did what no one thought possible.”

The crowd erupted into applause. I balanced on the edge of the wooden stage, feeling like I might topple into the sea of bodies.

It was too much, too many adoring faces, people I had never met. They didn’t know me. My own story was being told in front of me, like I wasn’t even there to tell it myself. I was a hunter, and I needed those gold coins simply to gain a breath of air. These people in the crowd had been the ones to laugh and sneer at my misery, to ignore our hunger.

I hadn’t done it for a single one of them. Maybe that made me cruel, and heartless, but I knew it was the plain truth even as it hid in the dark shadows of my heart.

But the mayor wasn’t done. Once the cheers and applause had died down, his smile grew even wider, and he looked to my father.

“And, in a gesture we hope will inspire the land, my son Charles,” he motioned to the scowling boy, his face fierce and fixed on the ground in front of him, “is to be wed to our hero, Feyre Archeron. Our families will join together, uniting our villages. To remind us that heroes are among us, and we are stronger together. Feyre,” his eyes twinkling, “welcome to our family.”

The roar of the crowd was deafening, pounding in my skull and shaking my bones. Shock kept me frozen, and despite Nesta’s pinch at my hips, I knew my face was contorted in horror and shock.

My eyes found my father.

He had draped himself with the beast’s fur, like a cloak. Dressed in a dark, layered suit, he continued to smile blandly and ignore me completely.

No wonder Charles had looked murderous. I felt the same.

He was glowering on the edge of the stage, his mother whispering something into his ear with intensity. But he refused to smile.

The celebrating crowd in front of me was a mass of teeth and red cheeks. On the rising of their cheers, I felt my future slip out from under me completely.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Stumbling out of the mayor’s manor, I realized I was well and truly drunk.

It wasn’t for the first time in my short life, but it wasn’t exactly a state I was accustomed to.

Certainly not with such high quality wine, strong and dry slipping down my throat.

There’d been that one time when Isaac swiped a bottle being unloaded behind the tavern, and another when Elain shyly revealed a bottle of wine after we had gone to bed, refusing to share which of her admirers had gifted it to her. We had shared the bottle, taking indelicate swigs straight from the mouth until we giggled with mirth. Until the headaches and hunger hit and we had kicked each other in bed until my shins were bruised.

It hadn’t been like this, though.

The earth swayed under me. Warm light spilled from the side door of the manor, the party in full, brazen swing behind me. My skull felt like it was wobbling on my neck. My feet wouldn’t go where I wanted to put them. Swaying and stumbling, I braced myself still on a leafless tree in the garden.

Forcing my eyes to focus, I examined the bark, the bandaged hand splayed there, my middle finger still bent and unable to fully extend. A mangled claw, I thought. A promise of death and hunger to come.

Or, it had been. Now there was Charles. And a mayor’s manor, and a lifetime of servitude and lace dresses that would choke the life from me.

The thoughts rattled in my head, building and building, turning into something that felt like too much.

My hand grasped the collar of my dress, pulling the insufferable lace away with a loud rip.

Lace fell into dirty snow.

The tree was my lifeline, my body still swaying like I was nothing more than a branch in a heavy breeze. My thoughts went to the hard bark, to the deep roots beneath the frozen earth. I wished for roots to keep me steady. I wished to dig my toes into the ground and sprout branches and leaves. To transform into a peaceful and thoughtless tree, never hungry, never promised to anyone, only drinking rainwater and soaking up the sun.

But it was no good. Something acidic turned in my stomach, and I fell to my knees and retched onto the ground. It burned my throat as it came, wine as dark and red as it was going down. My sick steamed in the snow in front of my quivering arms, the smell bringing up more and more until only dark bile was left.

Behind me, a crunch of snow, a deep sigh. I tried to wipe my mouth clean.

“I see you took my advice to behave yourself very seriously.”

Nesta didn’t seem too shocked by my predicament.

It was hard to focus on her disapproval when my head pounded, and my throat was burning.

“Go fuck yourself,” I rasped, hoarse and slurring.

I expected her to leave. But in a moment, firm hands were on me, pulling me up from my own mess, shoving me back against the bark of my tree.

Tears were leaking out of the side of my eyes, and I groaned as my muscles shook, falling in between the roots. A knob dug into my back.

When I could lift my neck and my eyes finally focused, I saw Nesta perched on a rock in front of my feet. Her skirts were folded neatly in one gloved hand, keeping them smooth and straight from wrinkling or falling into the snow, her feet pressed rigidly together.

I wanted to laugh. I lay in front of her, sprawled on the ground, snow melting and seeping into my dress. My lips stained, the lace at my neck torn, my own sick beside me.

Perhaps Nesta wasn’t wrong, when she called me a feral beast.

We sat in silence for a moment as my breathing calmed, and the biting cold woke up some of my sleeping senses.

“At least he’s a mayor’s son,” Nesta finally said into the quiet, the din of the party seeming far away. “You’ll have a soft bed. Someone else will always chop your firewood. You’ll never be hungry again, Feyre.”

My sister’s coldness gave way slightly. She seemed almost wistful. Even in my drunken state, I could tell some of her fire had been tempered.

But I had none of this calm acceptance. Thinking of Charles again, of that childish pout…fire bloomed on my skin, acid dripped in my mouth.

I spit onto the dirty snow.

“I’d rather be dead,” I hissed out, my throat still burning. “I’d rather starve in the forest. I’d rather the wolves take me.”

Nesta only blinked. “You can’t mean that.”

I locked her with a gaze and hoped I was steadier than I felt.

Nesta didn’t balk at my anger, or my words. By now I should have known better than to try to fight her iciness with my fire. Instead, she watched me with head tilted, a look of pitying curiosity on her face.

“Daughters are to be wed, Feyre. Even ones who hunt in the forest. It was always our fate.” Her eyes shifted to the snow, kicking a toe of her new boot into the hard powder.

Even as I sat on the sopping snow, my skin was burning. I felt an unquenchable fire ignite within me, full of my rage.

“How could he do this to me?” I was angry, and I hated the sullen whine of the voice that came out of me. “I fed him. For five years I fed him. Put food on his own table. I sold my pelts to get his medicine. I rubbed his shoulders when his back seized up.” The words felt like ash in my mouth. Not even the cold of this solstice night could freeze them, stop them from spilling out. “And he…gave me away. Like it was his decision to make. He didn’t even tell me. He didn’t even ask.”

A shrug of Nesta’s shoulders. Infuriating, calculating. “At least Charles is young,” she said into the cold air. “Father just introduced me to Lord Rochester. He must be sixty if he’s a day. A widower, with bad breath and fat fingers and three children older than me.”

I regarded my sister. She had never told me anything like this before, with her voice sad and clear.

“I know it’s vain,” Nesta said, fisting her skirts tighter in her hand, “but I always wanted a handsome husband.” Her eyes seemed very far away. “Someone strong. Someone…worthy of me. Who could match me. That’s what mother used to say.”

I realized that as much as I had wanted peace and a family for both of my sisters, I had never really asked them what they wanted. And here was Nesta, raised to entice royal and rich men alike, now hoping for nothing more than some bare comforts and the dream of a dashing young husband she might never have.

She shrugged. “Maybe you’ll find some peace here, Feyre. Be safe, taken care of. Maybe even happy, some day.” I knew that Nesta spoke of her wishes for herself.

“And,” she said with another careless shrug, “if not, you can lure him out into the woods. Push him off a cliff. Just be smart, and make it look like an accident.”

A laugh punched out of me, quick and unexpected, Nesta raising an eyebrow at the sound.

Deep down, I knew my sister wasn’t joking.

Read on AO3

[tyrantisterror]

What's the worst legacy sequel you've ever seen? What, in your opinion, separates a good legacy sequel from a bad legacy sequel and what's the worst thing you think a legacy sequel can do?

The worst that I've seen is probably Rise of Skywalker. It's close competition, though - both Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and Jurassic World: Dominion have moments that are significantly more stupid than anything in Rise of Sky Walker, but I also think both have a bit more creative effort put into them - Fallen Kingdom has that third act where it basically becomes a Resident Evil adaptation except with a murder-saurus in place of the Tyrant, and Dominion has the whole locust plotline which, while terrible, is at least an unexpected direction for a Jurassic Park sequel to go into that tries to figure out something ELSE you could do with the genetic engineering premise of the franchise beyond just making dinosaurs. Like, all three Jurassic World movies have big problems and they get progressively dumber with each installment, but they're also all ambitious to some degree that I still feel respect for, even if they never really actually reach those lofty aspirations.

Rise of Skywalker, on the other hand, has no ambitions at all. It has nothing it wants to say, no unique twists to pull, no real identity of its own. It's a potroast made of leftovers from better movies, a resuscitated corpse of something much more interesting, patched together like a Frankenstein's monster and abandoned to a cruel world just as callously.

It has no desire to do anything new, merely a checklist of Things You've Seen Before That the Focus Groups Say You'd Probably Like to See Again. Any character that can be slipped into an arc that was done in a previous Star Wars film is slipped into one no matter how little sense it makes for them, and any character who can't is either forced to tread water with nothing to do (hi Finn!) or just quietly shoved off to the side early on and forgotten about (hi Rose!).

Any story beats that weren't in the original films are simply grabbed from a box that reads "time tested cliches to keep your script moving with minimal effort." Make the plot a treasure hunt so we can just race from scene to scene with the flimsiest justification possible and try and trick the audience into thinking something is actually happening! What's that, audience interest is flagging? Quick, throw in a cameo of someone from an older movie! What's that, they're bored again? Pretend to kill one of the old characters, but make sure to reveal they actually lived in no more than two scenes down the line, or else we might piss off the fanboys! Hey, let's look at the Cinema Sins videos for the original movies and see if there's some gripes we can "fix" with this one for added fan cred! Can't disappoint our audience!

It's the story-telling equivalent of smothering something in salt to cover up the funky taste of the close-to-the-expiration-date ingredients.

As for what makes a good vs. a bad legacy sequel... ok, so, let's define legacy sequel first. A legacy sequel is a film or TV show that is a sequel to a popular film or TV series that ended a good many years ago, which brings back some of the old cast of characters (generally played by the same, and thus much older, actors that played them in the past) along with adding a new cast of characters played by younger actors. It tries to replicate the tone of the original series despite being made in a different era and probably by different writers and directors, and generally aims to give you that Ratatouille style moment of nostalgia.

I think most Legacy sequels are kind of doomed to be mediocre at best on the outset because the goal of them from the moment of conception is so mercenary - they're not created to Tell A Good Story, they're created to Keep Consumers Invested in a Lucrative Content Franchise. They have the artistic aspirations of a McDonald's Hamburger - "This tastes exactly like what you had as a kid, and doesn't that make you crave more of it?"

I don't think that art made for mercenary reasons is doomed to be bad, mind you - I mean, almost ALL movies and television were made to make money first and foremost. Even the classic High Art movies I love like Seven Samurai and The Third Man were made for mercenary reasons at the end of the line - it didn't stop the people who were working on them from having artistic goals, but it's a fact nonetheless.

But Legacy Sequels just have an uphill battle in the "artistic aspirations" department, because most people with artistic aspirations don't want to recreate the feeling someone else inspired with their art - they want to put their own stamp on it, their own spin, their own voice. And that will often mean something VERY different will be made, something that might piss of the fans - something that doesn't taste like the McDonald's hamburger you had as a kid, even though it came in the same wrapper.

The worst parts of Legacy Sequels are the only parts that Rise of Skywalker is made of - the parts where the story is clearly only trying to show you things you know, only trying to reheat the leftovers so they taste like your memories, only trying to trick the nostalgia center of your brain that you're four years old again eating at McDonald's. "Here's the thing you know! Here's the running gag you liked, repeated five more times by actors with far less enthusiasm! Here's the same basic premise as the first film, but the stakes have been inflated to make it feel like a progression! Cameos! Catch phrases! Eat your hamburger, you consumer pig!"

The rare good legacy sequels don't really TRY to be legacy sequels. They're just... sequels. Another story in the same world as the first, bringing back the characters who actually have interesting arcs left in them, creating new characters with their own shit going on who have good chemistry with the pre-established characters and setting, expanding on themes from the original and exploring parts of the setting that hadn't been explored yet, and all in all telling their own story that's related to the first one's but still manages to be its own distinct thing.

There are not many good legacy sequels, because a good legacy sequel is different than the McDonald's hamburger you ate when you were four, and might make less money than desired because of it.

[lokissweater]

About that anon that brought up Hana:

Reader should lock him up fr and ride the life out of him (omg is this a safe space?). She finally gets top out of jealousy and possessiveness 😭😭. Win win situation actually. Bet Megumi would like that. If he was a lil crazy he would just make reader jealous more often on purpose but he doesn't like it when reader gets upset. Like, he's all for reader.

Okay I got carried away. Just me thinking thoughts almost making up the whole story in my head so I needed to share them. Writer things I guess. It's wild that this is the first thing I send you LMAOO. Never getting out of anon if I write back. But I liked your mlb Megumi series!!! Especially the angsty parts (I know I'm terrible 💀). 🩵 Keep writing, girl!

BAAAAABBEEEE THE WAY YOU ARE THINKING EXAAACTLYYY WHAT I AM THINKINGGG !!! i absolutely love you for this im gonna send you my first born child via mail because this is exactly what is gonna happen in the next mlb!megumi fics it literally ties into my drafts my LORD!!! what timing.

reader would be gnawing at the iron bars of her enclosure ANGRILY and take it all out in the best way she knows how by absolutely manhandling megumi during freaky toppy time and he’s ALLL OVER ITTT

megumi is also sososo possessive over her and all over her so the roles reversed for a change is like he is at the gates of heaven MAN !!! and you are also right i already know he would push readers buttons a little bit but not too much !! just to see what happens ;))

BUT THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH FOR THIS ANGEL !!! I HOPE TO GAAWWDDD i see you in my inbox again and i also thrive off of angst heheh MWAAAHHH <333

[anneapocalypse]

So, just curious how many writers and creators will have to be forcibly outed by relentless harassment before we acknowledge that "This queer characters was written by a cishet person and that's why they're bad" is not good criticism.

[bixels]

The Ryoko Kui interview's reception is such a disaster over a pretty normal (yet still flawed) interview between a non-Japanese fan and Japanese artistic. This is discourse for discourse's sake, and it's no surprise that almost every Twitter user I've looked at who's using this interview to parade Kui around as a goated mangaka standing strong against Western ideology is anti-trans.

Like, I do think the interview was kinda wonky with its focus on fandom culture, which Kui clearly didn't have much interest in. But sometimes that happens. Sometimes interactions between two people, especially a fan and a creator, two people who view and interact with a piece of media in completely opposite perspectives, don't click. Does this really need to get blown up into a "West vs. East culture war" issue.

Anyways, Kui saying "I don't consider my audience's interpretations when writing. I leave it to their imaginations, but I have my own read on things too" is the healthiest, most normal thing an artist/writer who wants a non-parasocial audience could say. Artists and writers use this line all the time. If Kui didn't enjoy autistic Laius or Farcille headcanons, she would have probably voiced/signalled her discomfort, like she did on the topic of Senshi fanservice. Overall, Kui handled the interview really well. Props to her to sticking to her guns and keeping a healthy disconnect from the fandom. While I think the interviewer could've/should've been more tactful and restrained, the flaws in their questions is not a symptom of the woke mind virus trying to wriggle its way into the pure Japanese psyche. It's the sign of an over-eager fan who sees a piece of fiction differently than its creator.

[just-french-me-up]

I'll let y'all fanfic readers in on a little secret: if you find a writer who portrays your favs or that specific trope just right and you want to get more of it, the trick is reblogging or even just commenting and/or going wild in the tags, and you'll probably get more

listen, I am but a simple duck, if you feed me I'll just FEAST on those crumbs and you can bet your ass I'll come back to that pond for some additional bread crumb feasting