#fanfic — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #fanfic, aggregated by home.social.
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Sonic Maverick Cap. 32: Cansancio y Vergüenza
Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14340839/32/Sonic-Mavericks-Version-en-Espa%C3%B1ol
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54985285/chapters/237177871
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1646366758-sonic-mavericks-espa%C3%B1ol-32-cansancio-y-verg%C3%BCenza
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Sonic Maverick Cap. 32: Cansancio y Vergüenza
Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14340839/32/Sonic-Mavericks-Version-en-Espa%C3%B1ol
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54985285/chapters/237177871
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1646366758-sonic-mavericks-espa%C3%B1ol-32-cansancio-y-verg%C3%BCenza
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Strange Worlds: Meeting Least the World Should End
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Proof #ScribesAndMakers π30 Smol?“Private Shimamura, who’s the #smol?” Staff Sergeant Hoshino asked. “Your niece?”
At the sergeant’s words, I looked up from the indifferent food the cafeteria served and was surprised by the little girl sitting on the table next to me. Not in a chair, but actually seated cross-legged on the table. It was a mystery to me how she got there without my noticing.
She was a total stranger, even if she seemed familiar. I’d remember a girl in a zebra onesie and with blue hair that gave off sparkles. They drifted in the slow currents of the room’s stagnant air. I shrugged accepting her presence: #proof of how accustomed we had become to strange things in the last few years. I quickly glanced out the window and then turned back to the girl.
Sparkles-san greeted me with a smile, dipping a finger into the pudding on my tray. “Tastes like destiny,” she said, licking her finger. Well, at least someone seemed to enjoy the glue that passed for dessert here.
My gaze returned to the window beyond her. Gigantic, brown, Zeppelin-like jellyfish floated out there, no stranger than my mystery guest. Only a few years ago, that sky would have been clear blue. That was before they had invaded Earth; the day my family had moved to Okinawa.
We would have the invaders shot down by evening, but there were always more by morning, slowly consuming anything their tentacles brushed. Kurt Vonnegut Jr. had been right when he said, “The world would end with a whimper, not a bang.” I’d heard that on TV.
The sergeant turned to his aide of the day, saying, “Private Adachi-san, see that the young lady is escorted to the nursery.”
“At once, Sergeant,” Adachi-san said. She was pretty, even with her short regulation haircut and severe uniform. She was new to the unit, and I’d be seeing a lot of her in the future.
I didn’t know it then, but the strange blue-haired alien was right. It was destiny.
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Strange Worlds: Meeting Least the World Should End
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Proof #ScribesAndMakers π30 Smol?“Private Shimamura, who’s the #smol?” Staff Sergeant Hoshino asked. “Your niece?”
At the sergeant’s words, I looked up from the indifferent food the cafeteria served and was surprised by the little girl sitting on the table next to me. Not in a chair, but actually seated cross-legged on the table. It was a mystery to me how she got there without my noticing.
She was a total stranger, even if she seemed familiar. I’d remember a girl in a zebra onesie and with blue hair that gave off sparkles. They drifted in the slow currents of the room’s stagnant air. I shrugged accepting her presence: #proof of how accustomed we had become to strange things in the last few years. I quickly glanced out the window and then turned back to the girl.
Sparkles-san greeted me with a smile, dipping a finger into the pudding on my tray. “Tastes like destiny,” she said, licking her finger. Well, at least someone seemed to enjoy the glue that passed for dessert here.
My gaze returned to the window beyond her. Gigantic, brown, Zeppelin-like jellyfish floated out there, no stranger than my mystery guest. Only a few years ago, that sky would have been clear blue. That was before they had invaded Earth; the day my family had moved to Okinawa.
We would have the invaders shot down by evening, but there were always more by morning, slowly consuming anything their tentacles brushed. Kurt Vonnegut Jr. had been right when he said, “The world would end with a whimper, not a bang.” I’d heard that on TV.
The sergeant turned to his aide of the day, saying, “Private Adachi-san, see that the young lady is escorted to the nursery.”
“At once, Sergeant,” Adachi-san said. She was pretty, even with her short regulation haircut and severe uniform. She was new to the unit, and I’d be seeing a lot of her in the future.
I didn’t know it then, but the strange blue-haired alien was right. It was destiny.
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CW: Cursed poll, fanifc question
So you've landed on #AO3 yet again, and a magic thought experiment appears, forcing you to make a choice:
Would you rather read, assuming you had to read one:
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CW: Cursed poll, fanifc question
So you've landed on #AO3 yet again, and a magic thought experiment appears, forcing you to make a choice:
Would you rather read, assuming you had to read one:
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McGruff's Bridge Part 3 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 MeccaWhile waiting for Elaine to arrive, Saya listened to thrushes in the bush, and Sheila continued smoking, much to the displeasure of the troll, as the fumes wafted down under the stone span.
After a pause, The Adventure of Nike spoke. “I can’t believe that troll. It said that I stank.”
Picking up a spray of elm leaves that had fallen from the trees, Saya hid her amused smile behind it. “Maybe you should go back and complain.”
“Humph.”
The two fell silent again until Elaine, the Ashen Witch, strolled up to the bridge. [Again, in case you’ve forgotten who that very handsome witch who had just stepped on stage and the bridge is, it’s me.]
Indeed, like the others, the local gulls had forced me out of the sky, and I was making my way to the Three Goats Inn and Tavern. The thought of their famous bread pudding and cream puffs hurried my steps. My heart lept at the sight of the bridge. I hurried across it only to have someone bellow at me from below. “Who’s that crossing my bridge?”
Turning, I found a huge, lumpy monster climbing over the span’s parapet. At four meters in height, it was a dominating figure. The leprous skin covering its enormous frame resembled lichen as much as anything else.
“I’m Elaine, and if you’re thinking of eating me, you should reconsider. Instead, I can recommend in…”
“Shut up! Two previous women promised me a luscious dinner, and here you are.”
“It wouldn’t have been those two ladies, sitting under that elm,” I said, pointing to where Saya and Sheila sat. “This is truly a #mecca for scoundrels. Even for a troll, you were foolish to listen to them. One would think a mountain goat had kicked you in the head.”
“Enough,” the troll thundered and charged toward me.
Modesty forbids me from describing how I dealt with the troll, but in the end, it went sailing over the parapet and fell into the river, where it sank like a lead stone.
As for my fellow witches, they were obliged to treat me to as much sausage, bread pudding, and cream puffs as I could eat.
[FINIS]
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McGruff's Bridge Part 3 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 MeccaWhile waiting for Elaine to arrive, Saya listened to thrushes in the bush, and Sheila continued smoking, much to the displeasure of the troll, as the fumes wafted down under the stone span.
After a pause, The Adventure of Nike spoke. “I can’t believe that troll. It said that I stank.”
Picking up a spray of elm leaves that had fallen from the trees, Saya hid her amused smile behind it. “Maybe you should go back and complain.”
“Humph.”
The two fell silent again until Elaine, the Ashen Witch, strolled up to the bridge. [Again, in case you’ve forgotten who that very handsome witch who had just stepped on stage and the bridge is, it’s me.]
Indeed, like the others, the local gulls had forced me out of the sky, and I was making my way to the Three Goats Inn and Tavern. The thought of their famous bread pudding and cream puffs hurried my steps. My heart lept at the sight of the bridge. I hurried across it only to have someone bellow at me from below. “Who’s that crossing my bridge?”
Turning, I found a huge, lumpy monster climbing over the span’s parapet. At four meters in height, it was a dominating figure. The leprous skin covering its enormous frame resembled lichen as much as anything else.
“I’m Elaine, and if you’re thinking of eating me, you should reconsider. Instead, I can recommend in…”
“Shut up! Two previous women promised me a luscious dinner, and here you are.”
“It wouldn’t have been those two ladies, sitting under that elm,” I said, pointing to where Saya and Sheila sat. “This is truly a #mecca for scoundrels. Even for a troll, you were foolish to listen to them. One would think a mountain goat had kicked you in the head.”
“Enough,” the troll thundered and charged toward me.
Modesty forbids me from describing how I dealt with the troll, but in the end, it went sailing over the parapet and fell into the river, where it sank like a lead stone.
As for my fellow witches, they were obliged to treat me to as much sausage, bread pudding, and cream puffs as I could eat.
[FINIS]
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Review of "Alchemised" (3 stars): Impressive Fanfic, Bloated Novel
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Review of "Alchemised" (3 stars): Impressive Fanfic, Bloated Novel
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McGruff's Bridge Part 2 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 HobgoblinAn hour passed, and Saya began to drowse. The water of the stream sang her a lullaby, and the sweet smell of grass lulled her senses. The troll had long disappeared from view, its camouflaged skin blending with the stone of the bridge.
“Ah,” she said and pinched herself as a witch with two long blonde braids approached. The gray road dust begrimed her white coat and brown pants. And as the Charcoal Witch had guessed, a cloud of tobacco smoke surrounded the new figure.
“Who’s that crossing my bridge?” the troll bellowed as the woman neared the center of the span. Both of the troll’s hands and a set of horns, like rotting stink horn fungus, appeared over the parapet. A lopsided head with hair like Spanish moss; gigantic, goggling frog eyes; and jagged yellow teeth soon followed.
“I’m Sheila, the Adventurer of Nike, and who wants to know?” the witch replied, blowing blue-gray smoke toward the face.
“Cough, I’m… cough, McGruff the… cough, Troll, and I’m going to eat you, Miss Nike.”
“You’re not my type, big boy,” the witch said and blew another cloud of smoke toward the troll. “But there is a fair maiden close behind me in black robes and a pointy hat, with ashen hair and amethyst eyes. Oh, and she has a witch’s star like this,” and she pointed to one pinned to her coat.
Puff, puff.
“And you might ask, Mr McRuffian, who this person is?” Sheila continued. “It is Elaine, the Ashen Witch.”
[That’s me, the Wandering Witch!]
“Cough, cough. You stink!” the troll gasped.
Shiela readied her wand. “Have at me, big boy!”
“I’ll wait.” Cough. “I’d rather eat a #hobgoblin than you.”
“Humph,” Shiela said and continued on her way. Upon reaching Saya, her eyebrows went up.
Saya waved to a grassy spot downwind of her and said, “Shall we wait and see what Elaine does?”
Shiela nodded and took a seat.
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McGruff's Bridge Part 2 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 HobgoblinAn hour passed, and Saya began to drowse. The water of the stream sang her a lullaby, and the sweet smell of grass lulled her senses. The troll had long disappeared from view, its camouflaged skin blending with the stone of the bridge.
“Ah,” she said and pinched herself as a witch with two long blonde braids approached. The gray road dust begrimed her white coat and brown pants. And as the Charcoal Witch had guessed, a cloud of tobacco smoke surrounded the new figure.
“Who’s that crossing my bridge?” the troll bellowed as the woman neared the center of the span. Both of the troll’s hands and a set of horns, like rotting stink horn fungus, appeared over the parapet. A lopsided head with hair like Spanish moss; gigantic, goggling frog eyes; and jagged yellow teeth soon followed.
“I’m Sheila, the Adventurer of Nike, and who wants to know?” the witch replied, blowing blue-gray smoke toward the face.
“Cough, I’m… cough, McGruff the… cough, Troll, and I’m going to eat you, Miss Nike.”
“You’re not my type, big boy,” the witch said and blew another cloud of smoke toward the troll. “But there is a fair maiden close behind me in black robes and a pointy hat, with ashen hair and amethyst eyes. Oh, and she has a witch’s star like this,” and she pointed to one pinned to her coat.
Puff, puff.
“And you might ask, Mr McRuffian, who this person is?” Sheila continued. “It is Elaine, the Ashen Witch.”
[That’s me, the Wandering Witch!]
“Cough, cough. You stink!” the troll gasped.
Shiela readied her wand. “Have at me, big boy!”
“I’ll wait.” Cough. “I’d rather eat a #hobgoblin than you.”
“Humph,” Shiela said and continued on her way. Upon reaching Saya, her eyebrows went up.
Saya waved to a grassy spot downwind of her and said, “Shall we wait and see what Elaine does?”
Shiela nodded and took a seat.
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I tried writing a comedic Cenobite/Hellraiser game. It didn't work out. But I love the idea so much. So at least have a silly short story, Such Sights to Show You, about a new hire Cenobite.
https://thoughtpunks.com/such-sights-to-show-you-comedy-horror-short-story/#Hellraiser #Cenobite #FanFic #Satire #Writing #Horror #Comedy
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I tried writing a comedic Cenobite/Hellraiser game. It didn't work out. But I love the idea so much. So at least have a silly short story, Such Sights to Show You, about a new hire Cenobite.
https://thoughtpunks.com/such-sights-to-show-you-comedy-horror-short-story/#Hellraiser #Cenobite #FanFic #Satire #Writing #Horror #Comedy
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McGruff's Bridge Part 1 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 #TrollSaya, the Charcoal Witch, hurried down the road, an urgent summons by the United Magic Association in her robes. Above, wheeled the country’s red and white Gulls. “Nasty creatures,” she said to no one in particular. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have finished this trip hours ago! I could have been flying, not walking.” She reached back and checked that she still had the tassel tying back her black hair. “Try to steal it, would you?”
The road she was on wound through a landscape of low scrub, climbing and falling as it paralleled the sea. The gray dust of the road had settled almost invisibly on her charcoal-gray robes but stained her black boots. Ahead lay the old stone McGruff’s Bridge, and a few miles beyond that lay the Three Goats Inn. White-walled, with a thick thatched roof, the inn would be warm. Saya dreamed of its smoky common room and the hot, steaming punch they served.
“D-mn gulls! If it weren’t for you, I’d be enjoying their punch with Elaina. She’s probably already there stuffing herself with their bread pudding and cream puffs.”
She turned to look behind her. Sheila, the third summoned witch, was just a dot cresting the ridge behind her. Saya could imagine the cloud of tobacco smoke that must surround her. It was going to be an interesting night when they all finally met up at the inn.
When she turned back, McGruff’s Bridge was in sight, its stone arch thick with lichen.
Hurrying forward, she was soon on it.
“Who’s that crossing my bridge?” came a booming voice from under her. At the same time, a mottled, gray hand the size of a dinner plate appeared on the edge of the parapet. It would have been hard to tell it from the lichen-encrusted stone if Saya hadn’t seen it appear.
“It’s little old Saya, the Charcoal Witch,” she responded and readied her wand.
“Well, Charcoal Saya, I am the #troll of McGruff’s Bridge, and I’m going to eat you.”
A second hand appeared with gnarled knuckles like walnuts.
“Mr. Troll, you don’t want to eat me. I’m small and have scrawny limbs like matchsticks. I would barely make a bite for you. But in a few years when I come back I will be nice and plump. Besides, another witch will be along in a moment, and she is full grown, tender, moist and juicy.”
“She is big?”
“Much bigger than I, sir.”
“She is tender?”
“Absolutely, sir. And sweet. Her teacher fed her nothing but milk, honey, and sweet baby vegetables.”
“Then you may pass, but I will expect you back in a few years.”
Saya hurried off the bridge and found a place to settle under an elm. The tree stood on a little hill and overlooked the bridge. Its rustling leaves blended with the rippling sound of water.
“What a delightful view,” she said. “This should be interesting.”
[Continued tomorrow]
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McGruff's Bridge Part 1 of 3
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #ThreeBillyGoatsGruff
#Wss366 #TrollSaya, the Charcoal Witch, hurried down the road, an urgent summons by the United Magic Association in her robes. Above, wheeled the country’s red and white Gulls. “Nasty creatures,” she said to no one in particular. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have finished this trip hours ago! I could have been flying, not walking.” She reached back and checked that she still had the tassel tying back her black hair. “Try to steal it, would you?”
The road she was on wound through a landscape of low scrub, climbing and falling as it paralleled the sea. The gray dust of the road had settled almost invisibly on her charcoal-gray robes but stained her black boots. Ahead lay the old stone McGruff’s Bridge, and a few miles beyond that lay the Three Goats Inn. White-walled, with a thick thatched roof, the inn would be warm. Saya dreamed of its smoky common room and the hot, steaming punch they served.
“D-mn gulls! If it weren’t for you, I’d be enjoying their punch with Elaina. She’s probably already there stuffing herself with their bread pudding and cream puffs.”
She turned to look behind her. Sheila, the third summoned witch, was just a dot cresting the ridge behind her. Saya could imagine the cloud of tobacco smoke that must surround her. It was going to be an interesting night when they all finally met up at the inn.
When she turned back, McGruff’s Bridge was in sight, its stone arch thick with lichen.
Hurrying forward, she was soon on it.
“Who’s that crossing my bridge?” came a booming voice from under her. At the same time, a mottled, gray hand the size of a dinner plate appeared on the edge of the parapet. It would have been hard to tell it from the lichen-encrusted stone if Saya hadn’t seen it appear.
“It’s little old Saya, the Charcoal Witch,” she responded and readied her wand.
“Well, Charcoal Saya, I am the #troll of McGruff’s Bridge, and I’m going to eat you.”
A second hand appeared with gnarled knuckles like walnuts.
“Mr. Troll, you don’t want to eat me. I’m small and have scrawny limbs like matchsticks. I would barely make a bite for you. But in a few years when I come back I will be nice and plump. Besides, another witch will be along in a moment, and she is full grown, tender, moist and juicy.”
“She is big?”
“Much bigger than I, sir.”
“She is tender?”
“Absolutely, sir. And sweet. Her teacher fed her nothing but milk, honey, and sweet baby vegetables.”
“Then you may pass, but I will expect you back in a few years.”
Saya hurried off the bridge and found a place to settle under an elm. The tree stood on a little hill and overlooked the bridge. Its rustling leaves blended with the rippling sound of water.
“What a delightful view,” she said. “This should be interesting.”
[Continued tomorrow]
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A #Pastiche in Time: Algernon Blackwood Part 2 of 2
#FanFic #AlgernonBlackwood
#Wss366 Ace / Baron von Richthofen / Red Baron #TimeTravelAuthors FixingThe doctor nodded encouragingly.
“It was when I returned it happened. I own a book containing rare and previously unpublished letters by Hemingway. To my astonishment, there was one from his time during the Spanish Civil War. In it, he perfectly described me and my prediction. Nothing has been the same since. The experiences grow ever longer, and I have increasing trouble waking. It’s not as if I can avoid them. A billboard can set it off or the blurb on a food package. On one occasion, Baron von Richthofen, a World War I #Ace, almost shot me as a spy. That was due to a serial box. Another time, a billboard for rum dumped me on a sugar plantation in Puerto Rico, and I was mistaken for a worker. The conditions were terrible. The sugar company treated the workers like slaves.”
“I am terrified every time it happens,” I said.
He nodded again, “Yes, that would be awful.”
I showed him my copy of “Three John Silence Stories” and said, “You have to help me; it’s happening again.”
[FINIS]
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A #Pastiche in Time: Algernon Blackwood Part 2 of 2
#FanFic #AlgernonBlackwood
#Wss366 Ace / Baron von Richthofen / Red Baron #TimeTravelAuthors FixingThe doctor nodded encouragingly.
“It was when I returned it happened. I own a book containing rare and previously unpublished letters by Hemingway. To my astonishment, there was one from his time during the Spanish Civil War. In it, he perfectly described me and my prediction. Nothing has been the same since. The experiences grow ever longer, and I have increasing trouble waking. It’s not as if I can avoid them. A billboard can set it off or the blurb on a food package. On one occasion, Baron von Richthofen, a World War I #Ace, almost shot me as a spy. That was due to a serial box. Another time, a billboard for rum dumped me on a sugar plantation in Puerto Rico, and I was mistaken for a worker. The conditions were terrible. The sugar company treated the workers like slaves.”
“I am terrified every time it happens,” I said.
He nodded again, “Yes, that would be awful.”
I showed him my copy of “Three John Silence Stories” and said, “You have to help me; it’s happening again.”
[FINIS]
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"...Greek #myth is always full of...random...#fanfiction..."
#Homeric scholar referring to the many different and disputed versions of #Odysseus' story, going back to #Homer himself, and how all of the #Greek #myths are stories built upon stories.
Meaning #ChristopherNolan's The Odyssey is as historically accurate as every other version of the story.
Get over yourselves bros, it's #fanfic all the way down.
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A #Pastiche in Time: Algernon Blackwood Part 1 of 2
#FanFic #AlgernonBlackwood
#Wss366 Brief / Hemingway's birthday #TimeTravelAuthors Fixing“Doctor Silence, it is the most disconcerting feeling. I can no longer read. If I pick up a book, I soon enter a fugue state and am transported to that time and place.”
I was seated in a room painted a calming green. A servant had provided me with a chair that was inexplicably nailed to the floor. The doctor sat across from me listening intently.
If I had to describe him, I would first say he matched his name. He gave off a quiet air of calm, despite an eerie aura. His whole manner left you convinced he was both incalculably benevolent and knowledgeable. As for his dress, he wore a tasteful plum smoking jacket, for I had arrived at his consult in the early evening, far past normal visiting hours.
“Go on,” he said. “How did it start?”
“The first time it happened, I was reading ‘Time Machine’ by H.G. Wells. I was nearing the end when I had the most realistic dream that I was walking under a dim sun by the sea. On the beach were alien, muddy-brown crabs of enormous size. The experience was quite #brief, and I awoke presently.”
“Only it wasn’t a dream, was it?” the doctor said.
I relaxed; he understood. I knew there was an alternate chamber with padded walls for delusional visitors. That they hadn’t taken me to it should have been reassuring, but it was good to see tangible evidence that Dr. Silence accepted my bizarre story.
“No, but I didn’t know it. It seemed too fantastic to think I was actually traveling to those times and places.”
Forgetting the chair was immobile, I attempted to scoot closer to my audience. After a nervous laugh, I continued. “I had several more experiences of this nature: a visit to the Khyber Pass; Paris during the French Revolution; and a 1920s speakeasy. I rather enjoyed the dreams. They were so vivid and realistic, each longer than the last. I felt quite safe, since if anything bad happens, I’ll wake up, which is something I can generally force myself to do.”
“When did you realize?” Silent asked.
“I was reading #Hemingway’s ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ and found myself in a crowded Spanish tavern. There was a fellow American there, and I offered to buy him a drink. We fell to talking, him about being a war correspondent. I was excited to actually be talking to a famous author and, well, one thing led to another, and I told him I was from the future and that the Republicans would lose the war. He laughed. I don’t think he believed me.”
[Continued tomorrow]
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Just posted the Epilogue of The Right to Refuse on the #ao3 !
...and now I'm tempted to edit Bionics, the story about how Zach got his hardware & the S5s were formed in my universe!
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"You've all been so thoughtful" I whispered. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."
"Nothing.* He said. "You don't earn being loved by being useful."
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Chapter 9: Stand-Off of my #GalaxyRangers #fanfic The Right to Refuse just went live on the #AO3 - now only a short epilogue is to do.
Yes, this fic ends with a stalemate of sorts.https://archiveofourown.org/works/87440591/chapters/235802556
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Oof. Reading a piece of long form fanfiction and this quote just jumped up and punched me ~straight in my psyche~ :
"People think I’m tough. And maybe I am. Maybe I’ve earned it. But tough doesn’t mean untouched. It just means you learned how to bleed quietly."
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The Mermaid of Jakku Bay
archiveofourown.org/works/72531496
A thing that fascinates me about #writing is how it is tied to Libido - the art that originally inspired this #Fanfic is sexy, to say the least
#Reylofic -
Every so often I get reminded that in 2020 I wrote this monstrocity following a fever dream.
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Charlotte’s Web Part 2
#Fanfic #WanderingWitch #CharlottesWeb #AnimalFarm
#Wss366 lodge #ScribesAndMakers π11 It all started when…I stopped and looked around. The only creature visible was the pig, so I asked, “Did you speak, Mr. Pig?”
“I did. I am Napoleon, president of the great farm. And you, young lady, were about to destroy the fine work of my Minister of Education, Miss Charlotte.”
“I don’t see Miss Charlotte’s work, Comrade Napoleon.” I figured from what I had seen that the title would endear me to the swine.
“It’s ‘Your Excellency.’ Some animals are created more equal than others, and I am one such. And if you just look beyond your nose, you will see the fine tapestry, woven by Minister Charlotte.”
Now that I looked, there was a spider’s web that I had been about to brush aside. “That is indeed a fine web, Your Excellency. It even has writing in it: ‘Alternate Facts are True Facts.’ That is an interesting statement.”
“Indeed, and yesterday it read, ‘Rage is Freedom.’ That was something I said in a speech.”
I nodded. I didn’t understand how that worked, but I wouldn’t openly disagree. Instead, I brought up my reason for visiting. “The sign says I can get food and lodging here. Is that true?”
“Are you an ambassador from one of the local farms?”
“No, I’m just a wanderer.”
“Then we can #lodge you in the North Pasture and provide a bucket of raw oats and hay.”
“Oats and hay?” I asked incredulously.
“All animals are created equal, and if oats and hay are good enough for the donkey, they are good enough for you.”
“Perhaps you might find something better. Maybe bread? I am not used to oats and hay.”
“I see the minister has woven you an answer.”
When I looked, the web had changed. An enormous spider sat in its middle; around it was spelled out: “Half the oats at half the quality is good economics.”
What kind of warped reasoning was that, I wondered?
“I will have the dogs show you the way,” Napoleon said. He waved, and a pack of dogs came from a nearby thicket.
“Oh, dear!” I exclaimed. “I forgot I’m expected down the road a way this evening. I’m so sorry to have bothered you, Your Excellency.” The dogs looked fierce and were giving me the evil eye. Besides, who had ever heard of feeding guests raw oats and bedding them in a pasture?
There was a swine-like grunt, which I took for a farewell, and I hastily retired. After all, “Retreat is the highest form of bravery.”
[FINIS]
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Today’s "weird author affectation in an otherwise good fic" is . . . the author is just doing absolutely everything in their power not to name the POV character in the narration?
Like we know who this POV is following, it’s not a secret, and there’s nothing otherwise in the narrative that would necessitate the obfuscation. The author is basically just using every trick to try and not have any kind of straightforward "X did Y" construction, just about this character specifically. And it’s . . . odd? But also I will admit something when writing in a new fandom I also get a strange . . . cringe? About actually writing out certain character names. It’s completely irrational and I usually try and power through it, but I do wonder if that’s what’s going on here? Because otherwise, ngl, I am stumped.
Related: One of the most impactful pieces of writing advice I ever got was from some random post on
metafandomback in the LiveJournal days, which was picking apart "the dark-haired man" sort of construction that pops up a lot in fic, and whose thesis was basically just that using the character’s name is in 99.99% of times the correct option.Character names are one of those things that become "invisible" in fiction, so they are pretty much impossible to overuse. And every time you try and not use them you’re putting attention on one specific attribute of a character. Are they "the dark-haired man"? Well, why is that relevant in this particular moment? And if it’s not, just use the fucking name.
Anyway. I do not remember who wrote that post, but whomever you were, shout-out to you, because it’s one of those Core Author Lessons that I’ve kept with me all these years.
But back to this fic in particular: I am begging y’all to look up what pronoun-antecedent agreement is because I am rewriting every one of these sentences in my head and it is tiring, hey.
#fandom #fanfic -
So ironically right after writing this I read this. Which, while it’s Hollanov-centric, covers the exact same period of time and lifts and remixes a lot of the book’s scenes and dialogue. And I think the difference between the book and the fic is pretty much exactly the, like, Vibe I was trying to gesture at in the difference between mainstream published capital-R Romance Fiction and fanfic as a genre (inasmuch as it can be defined as such)?
Anyway. Someone who’s smart or whatever should get into doing some kind of meta (video essay?) or something on that, hey.
#fandom #fanfic
