#because this is getting so unbearable

[orcgirlcock]

oh god how do i stop the yearning

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where Luo Binghe's the chosen village sacrifice to the evil deity who lives up the mountain.

Normally the village sends maidens, but they've more or less run out of expendable girls of the right age and, ahem, "virtues". So of course Luo Binghe's early life bad luck kicks in. In the wake of his mother's death there's no one to really care about what happens to him, he's fairly pretty, and the village leaders decide that if they dress him up like a girl the teenaged homeless kid should pass well enough. And hey, y'know, he's probably got a hard life ahead for him anyway -- dying in a brothel of some venereal disease or on the streets of exposure or starvation. At least as a sacrifice, everyone else gets to benefit from his loss! And the kid will get added to a shrine and be remembered as a hero! If anything, he should be happy about this!

Binghe is not happy about this.

But he's also a skinny underfed nobody who is easily overpowered, dressed up like a bride, and tied to a post. So. Not much he can do but wait for the evil deity to come and do whatever horrible thing he's gonna do to him.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is pretty sure he's been isekai'd into the over-powered hero of some kind of supernatural adventure story? He's not totally sure because he doesn't recognize the setting, but the signs are there. He's got a shrine-like base of operations (though it seems to have become corrupted/ruined, probably he has to restore it somehow), he has a very resilient and handsome new body with spiritual energy of some kind flowing through him, and a very clearly magical sword. Plus lots of neat starter powers! Though it feels like he has other abilities that have been blocked somehow? Probably he has to level up in order to access them.

When he treks out of his "base" and finds what seems to be a distressed maiden, he takes it for his beginner hero mission. The girl claims that she's been doomed to be sacrificed to an evil god. That sounds a little above Shen Yuan's pay grade for dealing with, so he unties her and decides that they had better just get out of the whole region altogether. He already packed up anything useful from his base, anticipating he might get caught up in an adventure once he left, so they follow the river away from the settlement until they reach another one.

While they travel, Luo Binghe tells Shen Yuan about the cursed deity, Shen Qingqiu, who was cast out of the heavens for slaughtering one of his brethren and has apparently being do-who-knows what to maidens from the local village in exchange for his "protection" ever since. Sounds like a real asshole! And also mid-level boss type bad guy at least. Shen Yuan hopes he doesn't have to fight him, but he probably will.

Thank goodness he found Binghe, though! Clearly the helpful little sister type! He's definitely going to require her assistance if he's going to figure out how to navigate this world and level up his skills enough to take on a god.

[vaguely-concerned]

just had the thought 'in the end the most important thing varric taught rook was how to make a home for, with, and in other people' and then I had to go lie down on the floor and clutch at my head in unceasing agony for a few hours, as you may well imagine. hawke and the kirkwall crew........ in the end you kind of saved the world a bit in the most characteristically indirect and chaotic of ways. not by anything in particular that you did or achieved or accomplished (lmao imagine!), but just by -- having existed, and by the love that was always there, despite it all, in all its imperfections, even when no one was saved by it in the end. you're not here right now and you're not quite haunting the narrative but I hear your voices bickering and arguing and laughing from the other room. (and so, I think, does varric. all the time.)

'did you think you mattered, hawke? did you think anything you ever did mattered?' yeah actually, varric says with da2 and keeps saying through the series. you were here. and I loved you. and as it turns out that mattered more than almost anything in the world, no matter how long it lasted or how fucked up it was at the time or what else happens, because varric manages to pass that feeling, that intangible... home, that echo of you all as you were together, that love, hopefully the best parts of it, on to someone else for them to bring with them on their journey, with their family. and maybe the world will be kinder this time. you never know. merrill's line of 'Everything affects everything. We were born, a bunch of things happened, and now we're in a mess with our friends.' varric's greatest fear of becoming his parents. even through the wreck and the ruin of the world, ghosts upon ghosts upon ghosts of love -- malcolm hawke, who we never even see, but his life touched hawke's and hawke's touched varric's and varric's touched rook's and rook is passing it on to the family they're creating. the unbroken legacy of love shines through in ways that are stronger and stranger than any magic. help

[lovestory]

hi friends, if anyone happens to be reading this, i'm just letting you know that my blog has been intentionally wiped - something i've been contemplating doing for awhile now. to be blunt, i have been overwhelmingly suicidal for a good 6 months, so considering i log off feeling worse than when i logged on more often than not, i've decided to remove myself from social media for a long while. i need to figure out how to survive the sudden downturn in my health while doing postgrad and working full time (i collapsed out of nowhere and haven't been able to walk since before christmas, i am covered head to toe in hives 24/7 which are extremely painful and won't respond to any treatment - that’s just the tip of the iceberg, but I can’t just stop working and take care of myself like i need to) sending love ❤️

[pwurrz]

quincy’s like. the perfect partner to have if you’re nervous about sex tbh. the most patient, understanding and gentle person to have around when you’re on the verge of having an intimacy related panic attack

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

i stand with you in the face of a defensive misunderstanding of what critique is.

i think understanding what a critique actually is is a skill that increasingly is not taught. i remember going through freshman art courses feeling the frustration that all negative, nasty, unhelpful, and missed-the-point-entirely feedback is so commonly conflated with critique, and then critique gets a bad name because everyone remembers the time someone said their painting looked like an asshole (true story, altho now i think i would take it as a compliment) instead of the time a teacher or friend or classmate helped them uncover a hurtful bias or think of new ways to explore the same idea or how to connect it to related ideas or how to look up and understand other people's ideas on the same topic.

anyway i think you're great.

ahhh you're so kind to me!! i appreciate your support, and i think you are great also.

i have experience with giving and receiving critique as a student myself, and i think it was the best part of my degree! i majored in creative writing in college, and critique was just a generally accepted part of learning to become a writer. i don't even remember people being especially worried about receiving critique on their work. we had guidance on what kind of feedback was useful, but we were still at liberty to give it as we saw fit as like messy 19 year olds. the standard was that we gave it both written on printed copies of the work AND aloud in front of the whole class, and the writer receiving it was not permitted to speak during the critique. understanding how people are perceiving your work is important!

i don't have any particularly negative recollections of the critique process, although once in a high school writing class, the boys in the class told me that my male characters touched each other too gently and real boys are more rough with each other. in particular, they took issue with me writing that one boy nudged another. nudging is too soft. nudging is for girls. that was more than 20 years ago, and i still think about it sometimes because it was such an interesting perspective! i did not take their advice, though.

i should dig up that piece and see if it reads queer in any other ways. i think that's what they were getting at. (actually i once had a non-fiction class tell me i was in love with my roommate after reading an essay i wrote about her)(i did not listen to that advice either, but having 12 acquaintances tell you that you're gay in 2006 before you realize it yourself is Truly Something!)

i think people have conflated criticism and critique and think that being more openly analytical is the same thing as being negative. but analysis is so fun to me! analysis is why i joined fandom in the first place, and it's why i write fic! can we trust each other to be respectful and to speak in good faith even when we're not singing each other's praises? for me fandom would be better if we could.

oh i also want to clarify that i don't think it's impossible to demonstrate that you've thought deeply about a piece of fanwork while remaining completely positive. people do it all the time and do it very well!

i know i sometimes have tunnel vision wrt my own perspective. in a lot of situations, i wish it were more acceptable to be more direct, and i know people sometimes find the way i express myself to be kind of shocking. i know a lot of people like to be spoken to more indirectly than comes natural to me, and i don't mean to imply that my perspective is the only correct one or that there's no good reason to err on the side of gentleness/politeness in our responses to amateur art and writing. i just think that at a certain level of circumspection, it feels like we're all holding each other at arm's length.

i think for people who can't bear to feel exposed, making and sharing art is always going to be painful and difficult, and maybe too painful and difficult to enjoy the process unless they're sure of a soft landing. but like. the rewards of being loved only come after the mortifying ordeal of being known, right?

[demigod-of-the-agni]

The funniest thing about the Sohm Al dungeon is that when I did it for the first time I did it with the NPC party- Ysayle, Alphinaud, and Estinien. It was all going swell but I, a dragoon main, CONSTANTLY found myself trying to outdo Estinien??

like GIRL calm down he's just an NPC 😭 what's he gonna do, gloat about how he's going to kill all the dragons and pull out all the stops and use all the limit breaks?

...

HE FUCKING USES THE LIMIT BREAKS

THE LITTLE SHIT

AS SOON AS WE FILL ALL THE BARS HE JUST SAYS SHIT LIKE "TASTE MY LANCE" AND WHIPS OUT THE LIMIT BREAK AND I'M THROWING MYSELF HEADFIRST INTO THE GROUND SCREAMING BECAUSE YOU BASTARD I WAS GOING TO USE THAT ON THE FINAL BOSS

[shrews-art]

I could write a whole essay about how Victor Vale and Kell Maresh are two sides of the same coin, opposites yet somehow similar when it comes to their relationship with pain

[silverhalla]

people are always hating on the hinterlands but I am here with a hot take: the storm coast sucks SO much worse

[arttsuka]

Everytime I have an MRI scan the sounds really remind me of star trek so I always make scenarios with the characters or I pretend to be in one of the starship medbays to pass the time

[420dannie]

im physically unable to not put my whole entire heart and soul into the thing im fixated on until i slowly descend into madness

[some-pers0n]

Thank fucking god actually I'm on break right now because if I had to go to lectures and labs and god forbid take tests in this condition I'd be dead on the floor I'm so incredibly serious right now

[lesbians4armand]

i cant lie iwtv twitter pisses me off like very little else

[tethrawke]

What if I wrote a modern AU where Hawke is a newbie actress with only community theatre experience from her small hometown. Varric is a decently published writer, but not to the degree he could live off his writing alone. He and Bartrand are trying to make their first movie and launch a production company. It's based on Varric's script. They don't have the money to fund it, so they need the actors to go in on the funding (and get a % of the profits if it sells). They audition so many people. They stop being able to tell the humans apart. Everything is a blur.

And then SHE comes in. The one. And she's poor af. She can't afford to buy in. But it HAS to be her. Varric will strangle Bartrand in his sleep if that's what it takes. Instead, he helps her get the money together by referring her to people he knows for modelling work. Maybe even a sexy maid service. He thinks she'll kill him for suggesting it, but she just cracks her knuckles and tells him, "Let's do this."

He's in love. He knows he's in love, but he CAN'T be in love, because everyone knows he's still in love with the ex that left him years ago. So he's not in love. He just recognises raw talent when he sees it. That's all.

They get the money together. The film gets made. It's a runaway success. They get filthy rich off the profits. Hawke gets swamped with new offers. Varric starts writing again. He spends a decade telling himself he's not in love with his best friend and it doesn't kill him to see her with all those classically handsome film stars on screen and on the red carpet, their hands on her lower back. He's not jealous when she gushes about other scripts and how great her love interest is in this one. He doesn't care at all.

He cares so little, in fact, that he DOESN'T end up writing a script of their lives in a haze where the character that's definitely not him confesses to loving the girl on the last page, and there's nothing after. He doesn't forget that he wrote that dreck and left it out on his coffee table when Hawke comes over. He can't, because that would mean she'd know, and then what? He's kept the secret for so long, what are a few years more?

He's lucky Hawke is a fast reader and always skips to the end.

The luckiest man alive.

[sincerely-sofie]

In response to my post mentioning being baffled by my younger brother naming a tynamo after me when he was playing Pokémon for the first time as a little kid, my boyfriend made a chart to compare and contrast + showcase the many similarities I apparently share with this Pokémon.