#maybe it was a bit of a relief?

[vaguely-concerned]

rook falling asleep on the red couch in the lighthouse dining room while lucanis is making dinner....... they were helping out by keeping him company and peeling and chopping potatoes for a while there but then the potatoes are done and the room is so safe and warm and smells like coffee and good food and lucanis is trying to explain something to spite and his voice is low and soft and good to listen to and rook's eyes only slip closed for a moment. they'll get up to save the world again or whatever in a second just. one moment. while the world is warm and kind. and then they're being shaken gently awake an hour later because it's time to eat and everyone's starting to drift hopefully dinner-wards

[fumifooms]

Homegrown

Thistle and Delgal - Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui

^ Fernando Pessoa / Killing Flies, Michael Dickman / A Brother Named Gethsemane, Natalie Diaz / Antigonick, Anne Carson v Oats We Sow, Gregory and the Hawk

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙

[invinciblerodent]

These days I kind of can't stop thinking about how much I enjoyed the possibility of being from Orzammar in Origins, specifically because just being who you are put so much of the early game in a wholly different context.

Like, a dwarf from Orzammar has, by definition, lived literally under a rock their whole lives!! They've never left the underground, and yes, while that also makes their ignorance of surface squabbles (the mage issue, the Ferelden/Orlais conflict, everything with the city elves and the Dalish, etc.) make a lot of sense, it also comes with so many interesting new angles that I'm honestly so surprised still that I've never really seen it mentioned very often, if at all. (Even though we even get an explicit moment to reflect on it, when leaving with Oghren.)

In Origins, the moment a dwarf first steps out through the gates of Orzammar and begins the game, is a profoundly life-altering experience. Dare I say, even more so than it is for an elf or a human. Because stepping out, for the first time, they are entering an entirely new world, and for the first time, in front of them is a vast expanse of nothing but air.

The end of the prologue, it's not just a fundamental personal change that awaits you, it's also a displacement so complete, that it's absolutely dizzying to even think about.

That first time a dwarf feels the sun on their skin, they are made sun-touched, a surfacer: stripped not only from caste and kin, of identity, but also faith and memory, any favor their ancestors may have still held for them, and any possibility of ever returning, as far as they know. (Aeducan may even have a bitter little chuckle over the irony of how they could very well have just one day before shrugged off the concerns of their surface brethren completely, only to be made one of them now.)

Their whole lives, they had always been able to see the opposite wall of the cave, or at least to know for sure that it's there, along with the miles and miles of unchanging, crystal-littered rock stretching protectively over their heads-- now all of that is gone. There's nothing between them, and the infinite and ever-changing blue, grey, orange, black of the open sky they've never seen, and in the distance, there's no wall-- just glorious, humongous mounds and spires of rock jutting up into the belly of the sky, the likes of which they've only ever seen from the inside.

Orzammar, despite no sunlight ever penetrating that far, is always lit bright, and it's heated by the lava streams and pools below. A dwarf has never known anything colder or warmer, brighter or darker, never seen seasons change... the biting winds and the frequent rains in Ferelden are completely new to them, not to mention the terrifying cracks of thunder that sound like the very Stone over them cracking in two, the bright flashes of lightning illuminating the night for but a moment, or waking in the middle of the night to what sounds like countless fingers pat-pat-patting the tarp of their tent, or the fact that animals -which are varied and plentiful and wholly alien- sometimes just randomly fall into the sky, like the rumors say! They might know academically that with birds, that just sort of tends to happen, but they've never seen one take off!!

Hell, all of surface flora and fauna are completely new to them-- it's likely they've only ever seen a tree or a dog in a picture book. Flowers, they've likely only ever seen as an expensive and frivolous luxury few can afford to have for a while, and even then, they are by necessity brought in removed from their roots, dead, wilting, taken from their natural place... while here, blooms just spring up underfoot willy-nilly, not entirely unlike mushrooms at the home which is not theirs anymore.

And... there must be something organic, something comfortingly animal to the scent of hundreds of warm bodies crammed into a sealed hole in the ground-- which is just gone now. The air is fresh, clean... empty, cold, lonely. No smell of spilled ale, piss, and vomit, no thick scent of the combined breaths and bodies of all their people... no scent of belonging, the air that moves their lungs now is no longer that which has moved those of all they've ever known, and every breath washes more, and more, and more of who they once were from inside their very body.

Being on the surface, it's like being thrust into an alien world, with which all just expects you to be intimately familiar. What do you mean the grass, the bugs, the birds, the leaves are strange? What do you mean you've never eaten leaves from this plant, fruit from this tree, the flesh of this creature you've only ever heard about? They laugh when you avert your eyes from the sky and try not to think about falling into it, or when you startle at the feeling of falling water suddenly hitting your skin, as if that was somehow funny, charming.

The night, which you've never before seen fall, is a comfort from all that endless, boundless seeing- but after the Joining, not even that is a relief.

Because if you're a dwarven Warden, all the dreams you've had in your life have been nightmares.

So you cope. You learn, and adapt, and endure.

Strong and immutable, like the Stone from which you were rent.

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[seriousturd]

Happy Pride to that chase scene

[quietwingsinthesky]

Dean is such a paradox for me because on the one hand, I have been actively triggered by him in the show, there are moments where, intentionally or not, the writers managed to create a portrayal of manipulation and abuse and control issues that it sets off actual alarms for me. And on the other hand, I would not have him any other way. There is something — not comforting, that’s too soft a word — about knowing where Dean’s actions stem from, having seen and learned all that we do about his childhood neglect and parentification and the trauma he goes through repeatedly in the show, and that he doesn’t come out clean. He comes out a goddamn mess who ends up hurting the people around him in reaction to his own pain!

There’s a reality there that’s. Almost nice, actually. Distressing to watch, but it is a fucking mess, it’s a good mess! He’s got zero healthy coping skills and a healthy relationship with say, his brother, is terrifying because it leaves him open to abandonment!

I’m not sure I’m wording this correctly. There is a way to be a good abuse victim. Take the pain, martyr yourself on it, and then, even if you have no support or idea how to, then you have to become a Good Person who never hurts anyone the way you have been learning to your entire life. Simply toss everything that shaped you out the door and emerge a saint with a tragic backstory. And Dean is not that. And that’s so fucking good. Everything that he has gone through continues to effect the way he treats the people around him, and he can’t fight the behaviors he might recognize as harmful because he also sees them as protecting him (or protecting Sam by keeping Sam with him.)

And sometimes, idk. It feels good to see a guy who didn’t heal the “right way.” Who mostly didn’t heal at all, just keeps the wound open because it’s easier that way.

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part II

>> part I here // hhau masterpost here <<

The hermits are here to take Scar home but Grian is gone and Scar can’t leave without him, even if the others would promise to look for him. (They won’t find him, they won’t, they won’t. Scar knows how vast these forests are. He knows how many hiding spots there are tucked away if one knows where to look.) (They don’t know where to look.)

They’re not listening to him. He’s half-feral and panicked and desperate, barely making any sense. He keeps saying he needs to find Grian, but he looks half-crazed, clothes stained by a huge amount of blood and—

If it looks, a little bit, like he’s just in frenzied denial of some grief? That maybe something happened and Grian isn’t here anymore? The world is permadeath, after all. The rescue party isn’t sure what to think.

Of course they promise to look for Grian. Of course they’ll try. But first, let’s get you somewhere safe, Scar.

Scar panics and backs away and says he isn’t going anywhere until they find Grian. He’s so so afraid they’ll take him away and he’ll never find him. (He keeps imagining that wretched scream he heard that very first day he found Grian, a year ago. How close of a call that was.) (He thinks of finding him after the mimic incident, barely surviving. Wounded and bloodied and ready to collapse.) (He thinks of Grian sobbing as he begs Scar to never leave him again.)

He can’t leave him behind. He can’t.

He won’t.

He’s done everything he can up to this point and if this is his last fight? Then damn it, he’s going to go out swinging. He is going to find Grian. Even if he has to fight his saviours. (They’re enemies if they’re trying to separate him and Grian—) 

He growls and lashes out and his vex magic comes through. The hermits are stunned and a little bit afraid and a whole lot confused. They’ve never seen him like this, hair white and claws ready to tear. (Cub, especially, is terrified of this development. Knowing that if Scar pushes himself too far in his vex form, he could die.) 

They try to placate him, calm him down, reassure him. They try to get the damn teleportation bracelet on him. They keep telling him they can take him home, it’s okay, Scar, it’s okay.

It’s not okay.

He isn’t leaving without Grian, and he isn’t trusting anyone else with this.

So he runs.

He runs from his friends—from people he loves with all his heart; people he thought he’ll never see again. Runs from the promise of home and safety and this hell being finally over. 

He runs, because he can’t take the salvation if he can’t share it with Grian.

Everything’s a bit of a blur as he rushes through the forest, looking for something to tell him where Grian is. He’s fully in his vex form, senses sharp and heart panicked, calling out, desperate for Grian to reply. 

There’s no answer.

Scar sees it, then: a handful of ripped-out feathers and blood.

His heart jumps into his throat, but he laser-focuses and starts following the trail. The world feels askew around him, his steps urgent, his breaths hovering near growls that want to threaten the whole forest if anything dares to hurt Grian more. (He hopes Grian’s still out there.) (He has to be. He has to be—) (Why is he not replying to Scar’s calls, then?)

Scar’s aware that if he can follow the trail of blood, so can others. He needs to be better than them. Faster. (He needs to be a better hunter than them.) He knows that if he’s following the trail now, maybe someone already followed it. (He tries not to let that thought in. That he might be too late.) 

He’s trailed by the hermit rescue party. They scramble in his wake, trying not to lose him. They lag behind, losing sight of him, but Cub staggers to follow his vex bond with Scar, like a tether, trying to hold down the swell of warning anxiety at the fact that Scar is in his vex form. Scar looks feral, he lashed out and ran from them, clothes stained by blood and hair white—

Them following just makes Scar feel hunted. His instincts go haywire and put him more on edge. 

He keeps going.

He keeps calling out, too. Uncaring that he’s attracting every hunter in the vicinity. He can take them. He will happily attract them to himself if that means they won’t go after Grian instead. (The fact that he’s searching for Grian gets a bit tangled up in him. The fact that if he succeeds, he’ll just be bringing the hunters to Grian fails to quite register. He’s not thinking very straight.)

Hermits hear those wails, echoing through the forest. He sounds like a wandering spirit. 

Inhuman. 

Lost.

 --

Grian is hurt. Hand pressed against the spot on his side that bleeds, he sits curled up, pressing himself into some bushes for a moment of reprieve—just a moment, just a little bit, please, please.

He hears Scar’s calls from far away. He hears them, and his heart tears itself to pieces.

He is terrified and hurting, and it feels dangerously close to a despair-filled memory.

 He tries to shield himself from it. There’s a reason he ran. There’s a reason why Scar should stay away from him. He can’t— He shouldn’t— He—

Scar draws closer. Grian can hear his sobbing and heaving. His pleading, so heartrendingly desperate. “Grian please. Grian answer me.”

Grian finds himself cautiously standing up, every muscle taut. His heart is rabbity fast, fear clogging his throat. 

He doesn’t mean to answer. He really, really doesn’t mean to. (He needs to keep Scar away.) Yet a distressed chirp slips through anyway, like a terrified call, begging for Scar.

The sound of it pitches something in Scar. His sobbing changes to panic and dwindling hopefulness. “Grian…?”

There’s a tinier chirp then. Scared. Still involuntary.

Grian is so so afraid and he should know better, but a part of him is desperate for Scar.

The moment he sees Scar, though, the futility rips through him. No. He isn’t meant to— Scar shouldn’t be near him. Because Grian’s been gone so shortly and yet the hunters have already found him. He’s already gotten hurt. He is a beacon.

He can’t stay near Scar. It’ll get Scar hurt. 

It’ll get Scar killed.

(Everything good that stays near Grian dies—)

He needs to get away from him.

He backs away. Tells Scar, in a wobbly voice, not to approach.

Scar doesn’t care. He needs to get to Grian. He needs to get to him, they can go home, this can all be over. 

Running on some faulty reasoning, Grian tries to get away. It’s useless, he is in no state to outrun Scar—he can’t bring himself to fly and he’s bleeding, dizzy on panic—but he feels like he needs to try, anyway. 

His feet feel heavy beneath him, the world unsteady. Scar is behind him and Grian’s heart begs him to stop, turn around, and burrow into his arms. (He can’t he can’t he can’t—)

It takes only a couple of steps for Grian to trip over some roots, the world as cruel to him as ever, sending him plummeting harshly down in a rough tumble of leaves and limbs and feathers. A pained, fearful yelp gets punched out of him on impact.

Scar’s next to him in an instant, kneeling down and gathering him in his arms. Crying as he buries Grian in a hug, terrified he might try to run again. Frantically telling him, “Grian, it’s over, it’s over, we can go home— Please—”

Grian’s sobbing against him, held in place, unable to understand what Scar is saying. He just wants Scar to get away from him and stay safe. (Grian can’t be safe. He’s been doomed from the start. He’s been doomed this whole time.) (He’ll end up like that bird. Dead, with wings ripped off—)

The words “it’s over” mean nothing to him. All he manages to choke out is, “There is no— There’s no home anymore.” They’ve had their safety ripped away from them over and over again. They’ve been showed that they can’t have a home anymore; this world will not allow it. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere is safe, as long as Grian’s wings are bright violet and attached to his spine. 

Scar insists, a series of reassurances, words tripping over each other as he tries to keep his hold on his voice. He says they’ll be okay. He says they don’t have to run anymore. Please, Grian, we can go home.

But it’s not a concept that exists anymore for Grian; it refuses to register in his mind, words sliding right off him, incoherent.

What he knows is this: he failed to protect Scar, and they don’t have a home to go back to, and Grian is sure the hunters are about to show up, any second. He’s so tired and terrified, and he needs Scar to be shielded from this fate. He needs him to be safe.

Scar isn’t letting go of him. His grip is firm as he continues to plead with Grian. He doesn’t want to be rough, he’s never been forceful with Grian, but he can’t let go now. Even as Grian paws at him and tries to push him away. 

Grian’s crying so hard; his efforts to get free are all frantic and urgent, yet half-hearted. (He wants to give in and bury himself in the protectiveness of Scar’s arms.) (He wants all of Scar’s promises to be true.)

And yet something tips askew.

Because Scar’s never been forceful with Grian.

He was always so gentle. He’d never grab him like this, with so much force. So much insistence.

Grian is hit with a dizzying, nauseating thought. Is this a trap? Is this a mimic?

Grian starts chirping. More of those distressed, scared noises as he can't get free of Scar's grip.

It’s the first time ever that Scar won’t heed Grian’s requests to be let go. Not even if Grian says it hurts. He won’t let go he won’t he won’t. He’ll drag him home if he has to.

Grian’s scared and confused, all his thoughts are jumbled, running on rampant trauma responses and unadulterated panic. He can’t deal with any of this. He keeps trying to wrangle free and push Scar away (is it even Scar???), begging him to let go, but it’s so horribly weak. It’s almost nothing. He just chokes on sobs and hyperventilates. (He feels caught.) (He feels like Scar will get killed because of him.) (He doesn’t know what’s happening.)

It’s awful. It’s wrong. It’s— It’s not what it’s meant to be. 

This should be easy. This should be the best day ever! They can go home! 

Instead, it’s like a panicked final showdown and Scar feels like it’s him against everyone. The hermits weren’t listening to him (Grian needs him, he needs him, he needs him), and now Grian isn’t listening to him either. (He can’t comprehend what Scar’s saying at all, and isn’t that so heartbreaking?) (Scar is desperate to get through to him. To calm him down enough so that this could be anything more than Scar forcefully holding him as Grian chokes on panic.) (The kind of panic he should never feel in Scar’s arms—)

Voice breaking, Scar pleads, over and over again. Please, Grian. Please. It’s okay. It’s okay, we can go home, we’ll be alright. It’s me. It’s me, I got you, we’re gonna be safe.

It’s the kiss he presses to Grian’s hair that tips the scales a little, just enough for Grian’s chirps to mute, his sobbing drifting off into softer cries. He goes limp under the affection, still terrified, still trembling and choking on air, but now he’s pressing himself against Scar instead of trying to get free. 

“G, do you understand what I’m saying?” Scar begs in a wavering voice, unbecoming of his feral appearance. He holds onto the magic prickling along his skin, alert for any sort of danger, anything that so much as tries to approach and hurt Grian. His hands are still clawed. His hair is still white. His veins are still stuffed with unending desperation. 

Nothing is over yet. 

It should be. It should be, but it isn’t.

Not yet, not yet.

 The hunters find them before the hermits do.

-- part III here

[marshmallowgoop]

Otakon's AMV contest allowed VHS submissions, and I knew I just had to submit the collab I edited with @astravis this way.

I hope it's clear why!

(It uses a lot of actual VHS footage.)

And I loved putting AMVs on tape so much that I quickly ordered a bunch of blank tapes online to compile all of my anime music videos this way.

(Short reel of a few of them.)

And, like, it's definitely far from perfect. My computer doesn't have an HDMI port, so I have to use a converter for that, and it's horrible quality. While that does add to the VHS aesthetic, it also makes some of the subtitles nigh impossible to read (as especially evident in the "First Time" video above). My digitization process also isn't exactly ideal, either.

But popping in a VHS tape of my videos and seeing that on the TV? Absolutely amazing. There is no other way I want to physically compile my AMVs. 10/10. MarshmallowGoop/MarshmallowGoop.

Would like to improve my process someday, but if anyone else is curious about how to make VHS tapes out of videos on your computer, I mostly followed this guide here!

[lancerious]

thank you for being #1 lancer fan the world needs more lancer fans

Ho ho ho, of course!! Lancer is CRIMINALLY underrated I tell you, kid deserves WAY more attention than he currently gets

Glad to see another Lancer fan pop in <3!

[s0fter-sin]

is there any actual catharsis in the boys or is it all just suffering and scrambling for a crumb of relief

[wikitpowers]

What is your opinion on Livvy coming back fully in TWP? Do you like the theory or are you someone who prefers her staying as a ghost / Ty eventually letting her go!?!?🙈

now,,,, this is tricky!

okay well let me start off by saying: i love livvy, like adore her. i think she is the coolest and funniest and most amazing character and god, i so truly wish she could be a part of the twp gang not as a ghost. like she would be so amazing and cool and badass and her death scene ruined me so badly, especially since i am a twin myself. and i hate how much ty is suffering without his sister (like so so much). and a part of me is like "yes, make her come back!" but another has already accepted that her death had to happen and is important in this story (i feel like even more so when the whole series is released). so, i think i'm leaning more towards the ty letting her go option :( just, there is a certain balance with these things and letting livvy go seems like the right thing i think :( even though ik it will break my heart into a million pieces, it feels necessary </3

[redsasexualdisaster]

got zandrekh/obyron/imotekh on the braain

[nicolegendary]

.

[rapidhighway]

god people follow me because I'm an art blog. Surprise this is my personal blog too and my vent blog and everything else. Literally beware

[redlyriumidol]

I haven't been able to play yet but I've been really set on Lords of Fortune for months now; HOWEVER everyone keeps saying that mournwatch is really good. If not I'll definitely do it on the next playthrough, but my question is (feel free to explain a little but pls try not to spoil anything major haha) is the Lords of Fortune background actively bad? Like is it not worth doing on a first playthrough?

Also, how much sense does mournwatch make with a dwarf Rook? Is it more of a mage thing?