#just shrieking into the void

[dancing-in-rot]

i miss russia, i hate that my father stole my ability to speak russian, refused to teach me - drilled english into my head

& then regretted it and resented me for never speaking his language like he could

AND I TRIED - i'm more well read than most russian literature students for fucks sake, i can recite half of yevtushenko and pushkin's works off by heart

& even my own poetry is english and tangled up, coming out wrong

& i can never go back to see my grandparent's graves or talk to the rest of my family because i'm a filthy tranny now & half of them want me dead because of that

westerners don't understand, can never understand the pain of being caught between, being neither one culture nor the other the russia my father came from no longer exists, he is trapped in memory and nostalgia - the england we all found ourselves in resigns us to factories and strips our culture and pride from us

i am in the permanent waiting room of purgatory, no end, no exit

[aeantizlkamenwati]

Veilguard Thoughts

I just need to get my thoughts out of my head and the Void seems like a perfect place since I can’t write a review on console. I’m all for civil discussion, but at the end of the day this is my opinion/feelings after 20 hours. Perhaps it'll change once I finished the game, but I doubt it. Beware minor spoilers.

Warning: Incredibly long. TL;DR at the very end.

I’ll start this off by saying it’s not a bad GAME, just a bad DRAGON AGE. It runs nice (only had one crash, and minimal amount of stuttering on fidelity mode, one time the screen went completely black but the dialogue and music continued which was vaguely terrifying. Some movements are janky in cutscenes, but overall, not bad). It's pretty, I like some of the new designs. The music is nice.

I’m not a fan of this style of combat (never could jive with God of War or Bloodbourne; my preference for real time action is like Hades and DMC) mostly because I can’t cancel an action with dodge/block and the AI focuses solely on Rook so you end up getting swarmed and unable to properly see the flasher plus the timing is weird af. I tried playing on what I assume was supposed to be Casual mode (Keeper) because it said “emphasizes party composition over reflexes” and well…it lied. To the point that I was not having fun because the game is 70% combat, 20% exploring and 10% story. So I turned it to Story mode because I could not be bothered and enjoyed it slightly more. It feels very MMO, team-based, looter imo. The UI, how it handles, the depth of the story and how it goes about it (the Mission Accomplished Journal screens specifically), the emphasis on combat over anything else…

And here we get to my problem: I only enjoy it when I pretend it’s just a generic fantasy game and not Dragon Age. Because it doesn’t FEEL like a Dragon Age. It feels as soft as everyone’s skin texture. I don’t care about the story or the characters and it boils down to the writing.

It feels juvenile.

Like I loved DA because it was willing to confront the worst in humanity. The disgusting parts of war like Loghain selling elves to slavers, or the nunances of blood magic. Presenting choices that are morally grey like sacrificing the Circle or the Templars in DA2 (yes that choice was heavily forced and stupid but still). It didn’t shy away from it. There was levity, but the characters had multiple sides. They could get angry, they could get snappy or sappy. There was GROWTH to them. Zevran’s romance arc if you choose to reject the earring without more commitment was beautiful. DA2’ romances were…a little stilted, but I still enjoyed them. Inquisition also had lovely little arcs, depending on the romance. But even friendships felt natural as you got to know these people.

And Veilguard falls flat. They were okay with pissing off the culture war babies with trans/nonbinary options, but not with showing us the bad things. The game TELLS us “this is bad”, but doesn’t show why. They have their soap box moment of “slavery bad” like it’s not 2024 and anyone worth the air they breathe knows that, how about you still show that since we are IN THE HEART OF THE SLAVE TRADE?! Where’s the option to maybe be an escaped slave? An escaped Saarebas? They refuse to give us blood magic because “it’s messy” Yeah. It is. That’s the point. Maybe let me decide if that's a line I'd like to cross? No? Necromancy is fine? It’s like we traded the dark adult themes for better sex scenes.

The major choice I’ve gotten to means NOTHING outside of metagaming. It’s like they were trying to show they could be edgy or that “now now you can’t save everyone because we say so and we are going to force one of your companions to hate you”. And it boils down to who you want to romance, who is vital as a support character, and which faction do you prefer? Has nothing to do with anything else and there’s no way to fix this forced hardening, so have fun with that I guess? It’s not like I chose the dialogue options or anything, it feels as shoe horned in as DA2’s ending tbh. Like here have a shitty decision for no other reason than we want you to.

Then BioWare seems to have tried to both cater to the newbies and the ones who read/watch/listen to the extra media and fail to find a middle ground. It relies too heavily on codexes and journals and other media (which was my gripe with Inquisition) to do the heavy lore lifting (for example as someone who did not read Tevinter Nights yet nor listened to the third-party podcast, I have no connection to Rook's backstory).

But at the same time, it treats us like we are stupid? Going back to how juvenile the writing feels: it repeats itself a horrific amount. Every time Solas says “the Evanuris” it’s apparently a contractual obligation for him to say “or the elven gods as you would call them” immediately after. The amount of freaking out about them CONSTANTLY is like they are afraid we forgot after an hour. And again I kept thinking: how about you stop telling me they are terrible and why I should be scared and SHOW me?  D’Meta did nothing because I didn’t see it happen like watching Loghain call the retreat after watching darkspawn slaughter the army. Another example in the beginning is after you get the dagger, you speak with Harding and you can discuss magic. Rook notes they know dwarves are called Children of the Stone. Five seconds later Harding goes in the most “I’m speaking to a toddler” tone: “Dwarves call ourselves Children of the Stone. Some of us have what we call Stone sense.” Like…Rook would know that??? If newbies are confused they can go look in the glossary (isn’t that what that’s for?) or give an option to ask a question. It just feels so fucking patronizing.

Then it spoils so much of the story with the Varric interludes, or repeats itself AGAIN when I think they are there for style and suspense. Like Varric I already know they need to craft a red lyrium dagger, they straight up TOLD ME. That scene didn’t need to be in there at all. Solas’ little monologue rehashing everything in the beginning was unnecessary, and honestly him just telling us who we were against without us first seeing how bad it was…just…It took the suspense out of it. Like imagine if Inquisition straight up told you that Corypheus was the baddie just immediately in the Temple of Sacred Ashes prologue scene. That’s what it felt like.

Which brings me to the dialogue and characters I suppose. The companions have the depth of a shallow pool and Rook has less. They have moments where I like them, but tbh I don’t really care for any of them because how could I? I can’t talk to them. It feels empty. I like that they have lights telling me when I have new dialogue, but I miss having conversations with Dorian or Zevran, getting to know them before I started flirting with them. But nope. None of that. And good god the flirting is cringey because of it. Just comes out of nowhere and feels like teenagers. Again, there are moments where I’m like: THAT DO THAT, but it goes right back to the blah stuff. Like whoever wrote the Crows, good job. I loved Teia almost immediately. Viago great. Illario, I’m intrigued. Lucanis by default also interests me, but unfortunately, I don’t get to explore his character much. Irelin is also good. I liked the Veil Jumper fight you could get into with Strife (felt like witnessing a father/child yelling match). Where’s that sort of dialogue with everyone else?

And ROOK. Oh god Rook. They make a big deal about us not being able to be a people pleaser, and yet that’s the only personality Rook has. My favorite moment of Inquisition was in Trespasser where the Inquisitor could FINALLY have a human moment and BREAK. It felt like they had been bottling it up for so long and they just couldn’t anymore. I don't foresee Rook getting that sort of moment.

Rook is just three flavors of customer service. There’s no option for them to be anything but the dashing hero who has boundless optimism like a puppy. Where’s the option be the reluctant hero? The ruthless “hero”? They are just a bumbling idiot with witty one liners.

They feel like a teenager’s first protag as they try to give them “flaws” but never show those flaws. Nothing you do matters, just how you say “yes I’ll help”. There’s no nuance. No places where I think Rook can grow without ME. Rook is just a blank doll without me projecting onto them and even in BIG supposedly heartwrenching moments, Rook is just an idiot. And put them with the juvenile and forced dialogue of the companions? It feels like they are a pre-teen who’s been put in charge of a bunch of toddlers while the nice uncle tries to soothe them and the abusive dad yells.

The abusive dad is Solas btw. Varric says he views us all as children, to which I want to reply: yeah and he’s a piece of shit dad who rubs their toddler’s face into their diaper going “LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE BAD BAD BAD!” Like honestly, you can tell it’s not the same people writing these characters. Solas feels like they decided the low approval Solas was the canon no matter what. In Inquisition I truly felt like he was redeemable. This Solas? Nah, I want to stab that bitch first chance. Like he’s giving me no reason to like him and he’s being a dick for no fucking reason. Maybe later on we learn a reason, but in 20 hours there’s ZERO. That’s a problem if you are trying to get me to see his side of things. And the tonal shifts from when he shows that he regrets stabbing Varric? Feel forced, like my dude I think you are lying just because you seem to be unable to comprehend half of this is YOUR fault.

Which ties into my last gripe: this is not MY Thedas. The decision to make only the last fifteen minutes of a paid DLC mean ANYTHING (and tbh I have yet to find where the hell it actually matters in 20 hours. I have two saves about the same amount of progress: one Solavellan and the other Dorian, they are basically the exact opposite choices. I can't say I've found where anything has changed, so what was that about them not wanting to do one bit of dialogue???? At least in Inquisition within the first two hours I could find those bits of dialogue) that decision made it where none of these characters matter to me. They feel more like carrots dangling in front of long-time players trying to entice us closer, but when you grab the carrot…it just vanishes.

That’s not MY Morrigan. That’s not MY Varric, MY Solas, MY Dorian. They are NewBioWare’s versions of them. The Inquisitor? The character I played over 100 hours as isn’t MINE. They are a stranger because they tore away any agency I had. They just picked whatever personality they wanted and said LOOK SEE CONNECTION. But there’s no history, no connection, NOTHING. There’s so many places where I can see where they could’ve done something. And if I can see them, why couldn’t anyone at BioWare?

They forgot that DA’s uniqueness wasn’t just the companions (and these ones are just below DA2’s since we didn’t get to interact with them either, so…), it was the world and how it reacted to choices in previous games. How new heroes might have to deal with the consequences (and to be fair, no DA game has ever actually managed to deliver on that, but they at least TRIED).

This though…

TL;DR: this should’ve felt like a homecoming and instead it feels like BioWare demolished my home, spray painted the ruins with soft pastels and is trying to tell me it’s the same, if not better. And it’s not, and probably never will be again.

[fortjester]

does anybody want to talk abt how the first of nona's mortal wounds when she starts falling apart in front of the Tomb is over her heart? anybody at all?

[idk-bruh-20]

WAIT WAS ANYONE GONNA TELL ME THAT KAREN WAS APPARENTLY DESTROYED DURING THE FIGHT WITH MYSTERIO OR WAS I JUST SUPPOSED TO READ THAT ON HER MARVEL WIKI PAGE MYSELF

[abyssalcitrus]

Hate my brain because I have things I say I love, but do I actually know a lot about it?? No !!

Claim to be a fan of outer space. Dont ask me anything about it

Same with the ocean. Ur a marine biology major I'm gonna be leagues behind u

Literally building my own dang story around ancient Scottish history. My entire lower bookshelf is all Scotland. Have I read any of it ??? Not really !!!!

im a fraud

[distance-does-not-matter]

it's about the fact i've got all this love screaming inside of me and i can't do a thing about it

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

any of yall just feel like screaming into the void with frustration well here you go

this is your sign to scream into the void let's go guys I'll start

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

cmon tumblr i know you buggers want to

reblog with your screams to manifest avenging banshee energy for us all

xoxo

[swiftiebookwormlogastellus]

the subtle ache in your heart that comes with knowing that you’re just a person in the eyes of your friends. That you could die tomorrow and they’d only care for a week. That most of them wouldn’t notice until they’d need you and even then they’d just find someone else to use.

The burning pressure behind your eyelids that comes with knowing that you’ve devoted your life to love and yet out of everyone you know, you struggle the most. That the people who couldn’t care less about it have people who love them. That no matter how much you’ve tried you’ve always burned.

the tension in your joints that comes with the want, the need to hold and be held. To feel safe when you’re around people. To have someone hug you without holding a knife to your back.

The simple torture in your mind that comes with knowing that the common denominator is you. That you’re apathetic about the people who care and pathetic about the people who don’t. That you’re too caught up in the memory of friends who crowded around the base of a tree because you’d climbed it and you were crying and they refused to leave until you did. That you’re too caught up in the nostalgia of good morning and good night. That you’re too caught up in the game of life to realize that it’s not a game to win but rather an experiment to enjoy.

that no matter what you do, you’re too damaged to be loved as you are.

[femmeleatherface]

talking with cis gender conformant women about fashion always makes me feel like i'm in the twilight zone. don't you all get tired criticizing people for dressing "ugly" and "too much like a costume?" don't you want to wear what makes you happy and not worry so much about "looking good?" can't you just mind your own business instead of shit-talking people (primarily other women) behind their backs?

it's especially zoney when they end up looping me into these convos like i understand them. like. excuse me. i am not like you. i dress the way i do out of gender nonconformity and queer nonbinary femme defiance against the binary. i strive for ugliness, for costume vibes, for looking good by looking bad. my dress and your dress are NOT the same.

[astromechs]

ok, time to throw down the gauntlet as a psychologist: just as an FYI, anything that attempts to split behaviors or traits into explicit and distinct categories is a trap. human behavior and personality do not work that way. tests like the myers-briggs and anything that purport discreet "types" have basically no real validity because those "types" do not exist.

behavior is contingent upon the situation, behavior patterns change over time, therefore to some extent there are parts of your personality that change over time while other aspects of it remain stable, there is pretty much nothing about human experience that falls into neat categories — even the way our brains interpret sensory information. the mind likes categories because it helps us to process information faster, but the truth is that that NEED to categorize doesn't work so neatly on people.

[longsightmyth]

"Local fauna acting weird, local lady acting weird, hair lookin FUCKIN WEIRD on said lady" says the book

Me, vibrating in my seat: have you looked into fungi my guy

[koushirouizumi]

{R.E.B.O.R.N} - T H E O R I Z I N G ~ P A R A L L E L Worlds + Y A M A M O T O & B Y A K U R A N + G E N K I S H I S Death + TYL!Y A M A M O T O

Inheritance Ceremony!Y A M A M O T O -> T.Y.L

"T H I S Will D e c i d e {It}."

B O N U S:

"{T S U N A}, Why don't you T a k e a l i t t l e B r e a k?"

"THIS will D e c i d e I t..."

"If I can get {t h e m} with {T H I S} IT'S--" "{G A M E} & {S e t}!!" A.K.A. C o n c e p t s For S t o r i e s I'll N e v e r? -- Be Able to W r i t e...?!

{Cap'd by Me} (A S K to Use)

[secondpersonpoetry]

Franziska Linkerhand, Brigitte Reimann

[aromothmantic]

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING ETC. /POS

[pininghermit]

Wifed up on a tuesday

Request: If you are still doing the tropevenia event, can you please write a fic with secret marriage prompt for Adrian Tepes x female reader. ( =＾ω＾)

AN: get this dhampir a wife! Such a fun request

Genre: fluff + Secret Marriage

Pairing(s): Alucard x Wife Reader

Summary: "No one hurts my wife," he said, his voice steady and cold, without sparing a glance back.

"You have a wife?!" Sypha screamed, her voice echoing off the walls as Trevor stared blankly into the void, looking more lost than usual.

You winced at the shriek, gently setting her cup of coffee in front of her. "Nice to meet you," you offered with an awkward smile, unsure if she even heard you through her shock.

Next to you, Adrian cleared his throat, his golden eyes flickering away as a faint blush crept up his pale cheeks. "We have been betrothed for twenty years," he said evenly, though his voice wavered slightly. "It was... a matter of time."

That, of course, did not make things better.

Before you could fully process what happened next, a heavy pile of books toppled onto you, and the sharp sting of a whip lashed across your back.

"Not a curse then," Trevor murmured, standing over you with an expression that teetered between relief and annoyance. From the corner of your eye, you caught Adrian gawking, his face frozen in disbelief.

A bubbling shame welled up in your chest, hot and suffocating. You pushed yourself to your feet, glaring at Trevor. "Indeed, quite human," you snarled, and without hesitation, you swung your fist, landing a solid punch to the oaf’s jaw.

"I am human," you continued, your voice sharp with fury. "At least in part. Adrian and I were betrothed by our parents. And we are now wed."

You could see the dread settling on Sypha's face, her expression torn between shock and dawning understanding. Then you turned your blazing eyes back to Trevor. "You're not welcome in my home. Sleep in the barn tonight."

Adrian's friend or not, no one struck you and got away with it. And if they dared, you made damn sure they understood the cost of their actions.

The silence that followed was tense, broken only by the sound of Trevor groaning from where he had staggered back.

Snapping out of his stupor, Adrian ignored Trevor completely and rushed to your side. His golden eyes scanned you, his hands hovering just shy of your back, as though afraid to touch and cause more harm. "Are you hurt, my love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry.

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, Adrian’s power rippled through the room like a sudden gust of wind. With a sharp crack, a mighty blast of air sent Trevor flying backward, slamming the doors shut with an echoing thud.

"No one hurts my wife," he said, his voice steady and cold, without sparing a glance back. The message was loud and clear to Sypha, who stood frozen, staring at her husband lying in the rubble outside. "And anyone who wishes her harm shall bear my wrath."

In the quiet stillness of your room, Adrian carefully peels the fabric of your dress away from your back, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to hurt you further. His golden eyes scan your unmarred skin, but the frown on his face only deepens.

"I should have stopped him," he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. "I was too late... I'm sorry. I just... I didn’t expect it." He rambles, his words tangling together in frustration as his gaze flickers between your back and his own trembling hands.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice achingly quiet, like the faintest whisper of wind.

He had failed again. To protect you. To care for you. Gods, he was lacking, and now he had allowed a Belmont, his own friend, to harm you.

His father, who burned the world for his mother, would never have allowed such a thing. Dracula had been many things, but in love, he was absolute. But Adrian knows he will never be his father, in both good and bad.

He will never be the husband you deserve.

But he is in love. Unforgiving love that clutches at his heart, that reminds him with every breath of all the ways he falls short.

His expression crumples, like paper crushed in a fist. Adrian, for all his power, for all his strength, is so terribly fragile when it comes to you.

“It doesn’t hurt,” you reassured him, turning to face him fully. Your hands rose to cup his face, tilting it gently so his eyes met yours. “You know it can’t hurt me. Trevor didn’t strike to harm, only to dislodge potential glamor.”

You could see the mild complaint brewing on his lips. Adrian worried too much. Fretting, after all, was his favorite pastime. His brow furrowed deeply, no doubt already replaying every moment in his mind and finding a thousand ways to blame himself.

“You did nothing wrong,” you said firmly, your thumbs stroking the sharp planes of his cheeks. “You did the right thing. Tomorrow morning, your friend will apologize, and we will forgive him because he is your friend. And then, you will no longer hold this against him.”

Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with a stern look.

“Nope. Listen to me. Wife is right.”

His lips quirked upward, despite himself, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. His hands moved to rest on yours, cradling them against his face like a lifeline.

“You’re always right,” he murmured softly, leaning into your touch.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, smiling at him.

Adrian laughed, low and quiet, before pressing a kiss to your palm. “Never,” he promised.

Somehow, Adrian had found a wife. In the bleakest of times, when the world had turned its back on him, you had come to him. And now, you were here, standing in his castle, a presence that soothed even his most troubled thoughts.

When the next morning came, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

A sizable tuft of brown hair lay at your feet, carefully placed by Sypha, who stood before you with her hands clasped. Outside, just beyond the castle doors, her husband knelt silently, his head bowed low in shame.

The tuft of hair. A Belmont tradition of repentance. An act of humiliation and an offering of guilt.

An act you had no use for.

Still, it would be of little use to ignore it.

"My husband is a dog," Sypha said with a weary sigh, though her tone softened with affection. "He lashes out carelessly. Please, forgive him." She bowed low, an act that clearly caused Adrian discomfort. His eyes flickered with unease as he watched his friends, who seemed more like chastised children than the bold warriors they usually were.

Gently stopping Sypha mid-bow, you reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "There’s no need for apologies," you said, your voice calm but light with humor. Sparing the kneeling Belmont a glance, you gestured toward the tuft of hair at your feet. "Though I reckon this," you said, pointing to it with a raised brow, "shall make for a very interesting wedding present."

Sypha’s head snapped up, her lips parting in surprise before a laugh bubbled out of her. The tension in her shoulders eased, the corners of her mouth lifting into a grin.

With that simple jest, the air shifted, the weight of guilt and harshness lifting from the room. Grudges were set aside, and forgiveness settled in their place like the morning sun breaking through heavy clouds.

"Bring your dog in for breakfast," you said, your grin widening as you met Sypha’s eyes. "Adrian’s the one cooking today."

The smile she returned was bright, her laughter lightening the room even more. "I’ll hold you to that," she said with a chuckle, turning toward the door to retrieve her sheepish husband.

Behind you, Adrian stepped closer, his expression softening as he gazed at you. "You handled that well," he murmured, his voice laced with quiet admiration.

You turned to him with a playful smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "It’s what wives are for, isn’t it darling?"

[pixelateddragonet]

Eeeeeeeee!