#this is more of a AO3 issue

[freakishlygenderless]

If i see a one more fanfic about gl!Ranboo and gl!Charlie escaping showfall but never mention gl!Sneeg or anyone else on the carousel im gonna fucking lose it

[roselookingatthemoon]

Trans!Regulus Au in which Sirius often sneaked out with Regulus to show him the stars (pre Regulus coming out).

On one of those nights, Sirius and R* are lying on their backs and look up at the sky filled with stars as they always do. Sirius laughs as he just found the Lupin constellation for the first time. "It's moony!" He says and grins to himself. R* has long forgotten the stars in favour of watching at his brother. Sirius started to grow out his hair. Soon it will reach shoulder length, just as R*'s hair. He doesn't understand, if R* could, he would cut his hair off without a second thought. He looks back up, his mouth opening and closing again and again, as he contemplates how to phrase his next words. How could he describe this lingering feeling deep inside of his chest, to his big brother?

"I think..." It came out broken, but it caught the attention of Sirius, as R* could see his brother's head turn in the corner of his eyes. His own eyes are focused on the stars in the sky. "I'm a boy." it bursts out of him. A secret he had carried in his shoulders for over a year now. He immediately bites down on his lip, afraid to say anything else.

Sirius is silent. R* doesn't dare to shift his eyes from the stars to glance at his brother. This isn't how people describe it. There's no invisible load taken off his shoulders. If anything, there seems to be more pressing down on him, hindering him to breath. R* can feel himself spiral. If not even Sirius excepts him, who will?

"I never told you this, but..." Sirius starts. His voice is calm, his eyes fixed on the night sky again. R* glances over at his brother. A small smile was playing on the older boy's lips. "I always loved Regulus way more than the star our parents named you after. It's the heart of the lion, just like Sirius is the heart of the dog. The lion may not be as cool and awesome as the dog-" Sirius laughs at this part, but instantly turns serious again "-but he is a very, very brave animal. Just like you, brother." Sirius turns his head again to catch R*'s eyes.

This time R* answers the stare as a grin, that mirrors the one on Sirius' face, tucks at his lips. "Regulus." He tests out the sound. The way the letters roll from his tongue. "Yeah, I like that." Regulus looks back up to the stars and when he finds the lion constellation, he feels like the Regulus star ist burning brighter than normally.

And that's how the one person who always was just like a parent to him (way more than his biological ones), gave Regulus his name.

[ri-afan]

Thought posed:

Danny does the college stuff and interning for stuff at Wayne Enterprises while living in Gotham, but he doesn’t catch the Bats attention because he simultaneously is both Just Normal Enough while the Bats are Slightly Out Of Step of normal long enough that things with Danny don’t catch their attention. (Gotham as a whole is a huge ‘well this might as well happen’ place and after however many years…the threshold is a bit off for weirdness. Pair that up with normal Batdrama and role-code-switching and minor things are likely going to be subconsciously overlooked if not clocked as Dangerous.)

(Does Danny know the Bats’ IDs? … He would deny it if asked. Not his circus business though. He does think it’s smart that they at least try to cover their faces, unlike when he played the hero. He meets Clark before Superman and feels like he’s on the Office or something.)

Danny moves on with the astro-stuff (whether an astronaut, an astrophysicist, or whatever else) in another city and catches the attention of another hero as Not Normal, What’s Up With That Guy?? (two parts coincidence, one part Danny’s willingness to trust for the better, one part Uncanny) and they track his history to Gotham/WE and decide to ask the Batclan if they knew anything.

They find out nothing really is wrong with Danny (…the JLD was not called or conferred with, unfortunately for all) but it does spark the reeducation refresher of the Gotham Clan for Human Weirdness (that also educated the rest in just how messed up Gotham can be).

[calicos-clones]

I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.

And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.

Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??

Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.

So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.

We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part Three

For Xiantober Day Five: Past and Present, in which the author gets very unhinged about what parts of the past are shown and how that’s affected by the present!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

The Power of Agency: Shaping the Narrative

When I've discussed Wei Wuxian's agency previously, I’ve talked about how what’s shown and omitted tells us about a character, and we’ve talked about the character himself. Though this is a niche topic, it’s not necessarily something out of the ordinary to analyse, and we can assume everything up to here has been in some way intentional.

This? Linking structure to a character’s in-universe preferences?

This is where we get unhinged.

Before I start, let’s quickly establish something which will be important later: although Wei Wuxian is the central character, MDZS isn’t strictly from his POV. While omitting events a character doesn’t like to dwell on and concealing things the character wishes to hide is common in books with only one narrator, MDZS has multiple narrators which it switches between relatively quickly. This includes Wei Wuxian, but it also includes nearly every major character that appears in the story, and omniscient narrator as well. As a default, this format doesn’t lead to this deliberate shaping and omission because of one character’s preferences, since we have many other sources of information and events – which is what makes Wei Wuxian’s influence over the narrative and structure so interesting. We could have access to a lot more information, and access to it at different times, than we do (and that’s not an insult, quite the opposite!).

To begin: we’ve established that times such as Wei Wuxian’s time on the streets, his three months in the Burial Mounds and his loss in the Siege aren’t shown because Wei Wuxian has little agency there. But that’s not the only special thing about them. They’re also the three most traumatic times in his life, and so moments Wei Wuxian himself either can’t remember, or doesn’t like to dwell on.

This is why discussing Wei Wuxian’s treatment of tragedy in his life was important. Firstly, it shows he doesn’t focus on the tragedy in his life, so the idea that the narrative not focusing on this tragedy relates to his character has merit; secondly, it affirms that this is not a passive trait, but a choice. Therefore, when the narrative omits events due to this aspect of Wei Wuxian, it’s respecting not only a character detail – which would be cool by itself – but also an active decision. One that shapes the story it’s made in.

In other words, its very structure is respecting Wei Wuxian’s agency!

Now, of course there are flashbacks to other moments of his past he probably wouldn’t like to dwell on, too. But within the structure, they’re only shown when Wei Wuxian is thinking about them (or when he has reason to)!

Wei WuXian hadn’t woken up yet. His eyes were still tightly shut, yet his hand didn’t let go either. He seemed to be dreaming, muttering, “… Don’t… Don’t be angry…” Lan WangJi seemed somewhat surprised. His voice was gentle, “I am not angry.” Wei WuXian, “… Oh.” Hearing this, as though he finally felt assured, his fingers loosened. Lan WangJi sat beside Wei WuXian for a while. Seeing that he was motionless again, he was about to stand up when Wei WuXian grabbed him with his other hand, hugging his arm and refusing to let go. He shouted, “I’ll go with you, quick, take me back to your sect!” Chapter 63, EXR translation

Which, of course, is him dwelling on…

Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.” Chapter 62, EXR translation

…the painful flashback immediately preceding this. The third set of flashbacks (which are also painful) are a similar case. Look at the contex:

He lifted the bottom of his robe, revealing a prosthetic leg made of wood, “This leg of mine was destroyed by you, that night in the Nightless City (…)” (…) “Wei WuXian, I won’t ask you if you remember or not. Both of my parents died by your hands. You owe too many people. You definitely won’t remember them either. But, I, Fang MengChen, will never forget! And never forgive you!” (…) “In the fight at Qiongqi Path, my son was strangled to death by your dog Wen Ning!” “My shixiong died by poison, his entire body festering due to your cruel curse!” Chapter 68 (immediately preceding the flashbacks), EXR translation

And Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts and words:

Wei WuXian looked at the cultivators before the Demon-Slaughtering Cave. Their expressions were the absolute same as those of the cultivators from the night of the pledge conference, pouring their wine on the ground as they took the pledge to scatter the ashes of the Wen Sect’s remnants and him.  (…) Wei WuXian, “Now it’s time to ask just whom it is that treasures it so much. It’s like Wen Ning. Back then, some certain sects or so were scared to death of the Ghost General. They said they’d kill him on the surface, but behind their backs they hid him for over ten years. How strange. Who was the one that said his ashes had been scattered back then?” Chapter 79 (immediately succeeding the flashbacks), EXR translation 

Once again, Wei Wuxian’s own thoughts relate to the flashbacks we’ve just been shown. And, as I previously mentioned, though all the events which are shown are tragic, they’re also events which Wei Wuxian’s own choices and actions shaped – which he has this to say about:

“The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!” Chapter 82, EXR

Admittedly, this applies more to the third set of flashbacks than the second (which is still fitting as the third set was the most recent), as in the second, although he still had agency within and influence over his circumstances, the majority of the pain was caused by others’ actions (excluding, of course, the Golden Core transfer… which is something we know stays for a long time in his mind, albeit with a caveat we’ll soon discuss). But it’s still important to note – especially considering that otherwise, focusing on this very painful time in his life wouldn’t seem like something very in-character for Wei Wuxian to do.

Of course, this can all just be explained by good writing. It is best to insert flashbacks when they’re relevant to the characters and events in the present day! But it is interesting to compare these to the start of the (not painful) Gusu flashbacks, which open this way:

At a later time, Wei WuXian pondered upon the reason why his relationship with Lan WangJi wasn’t good. Getting to the root of the matter, everything started when he was fifteen, coming to the GusuLan Sect with Jiang Cheng to study for three months. Chapter 13, EXR

Again, considering the circumstances around which these flashbacks take place – returning to the Cloud Recesses for the first time since the lectures, and meeting Lan Wangji once more – it makes complete sense for Wei Wuxian to be thinking about these events*. So it does fit the pattern of Wei Wuxian dwelling on something, thus leading to the narrative dwelling on it, too (and being shaped by his thoughts)… but there’s another layer to this. Importantly, it is the only flashback where Wei Wuxian’s present thoughts don’t lead to this happening, with his thoughts at an unspecified future time leading to it, instead. I like to interpret this as the text saying that, since these events aren’t something Wei Wuxian wouldn’t focus on in normal circumstances, he can dwell on them at any time. Therefore, they’re free to come up in the narrative at any time as well, even if he’s not dwelling on them in the present moment!

So, to summarise: Wei Wuxian’s decision not to focus on the painful times in his life directly influences the narrative to not focus on these times. When painful times are brought up and shown to us, it’s in the context of him thinking about them in the present day, and even then, his most painful moments still aren’t shown to us. His agency in this regard is still respected by the narrative structure.

This is the main way his agency influences the structure of the narrative, but I’d like to talk about the revealing and concealing of information, too. For example, I said I’d talk about the Golden Core transfer – though Wei Wuxian does think about this many times, as evidenced by his internal narration in Chapter 103. But unlike everything we’re shown through the flashbacks, this is something Wei Wuxian is actively trying to hide from others. And the narrative respects this choice (Wei Wuxian’s agency, again), never reveals it even when it would be relevant in the flashbacks, and we find out not through narration, but through a character’s dialogue!

And to clarify – I know these aspects may not be in the book for this exact reason. Showing flashbacks in relevant moments is good writing, concealing an important plot point you want to do a reveal for is necessary writing, and MXTX has said she didn’t want to write about Wei Wuxian’s time in the Burial Mounds, due to not liking to write transformation sequences (and also because it would not be pleasant at all, which likely also applies to Wei Wuxian’s death). That doesn’t prevent it from also being intentional – MXTX’s intelligence is shown in many aspects of this book, and there’s nothing disproving it – but there’s no proof for either option, so I won’t pretend there is. I bring this up because I know this feels like I’m overanalysing, as I feel that way as well.

But, whether it’s intentional or not, it exists in the text, and I adore it – so, regardless, it’s something I’ll explore. Because taking this into account… We aren't just told about Wei Wuxian having agency, we aren’t just shown it in the text, we aren’t even just shown it through which parts of his past are shown and hidden in the structure of the text (as I talked about in Part One). The parts of the past that are shown and hidden also have an in-universe reason for being shown and hidden, this reason being the choices he makes! Agency is the ability of a character to influence the story they’re in, but Wei Wuxian’s agency, as a property of a character who only exists in-universe, shapes the out-of-universe structure as well! That’s how we’re shown its importance! How cool is that?

At The End Of The Road: Summary and Final Thoughts

In this essay, we’ve covered how important Wei Wuxian’s agency is not only to the events of the plot, but to the structure of the narrative as well. The narrative omits periods in which Wei Wuxian has little or no agency, in favour of showing us periods in which he does, even when important events happened in the former. This indicates that who Wei Wuxian is without agency isn’t important enough to be shown to the audience, and therefore that his agency is an integral aspect of his character in MDZS. We’ve discussed how both in-universe and out-of-universe, tragedy does not define him – out-of-universe, the tragic events in Wei Wuxian’s life are used not to build sympathy but rather to show his strength of character and who he still is despite going through them; and in-universe, he chooses not to focus on the negativity and resentment caused by his circumstances or others’ actions, instead staying true to his moral compass and enjoying his life in the present day. Finally, we’ve also explored how this choice is another reason for the omission of certain events from the narrative, resulting in his agency shaping the story in a very literal way – it affects the out-of-universe structure, as well.

It’s quite fitting, for a story whose essence is about defying a conventional narrative – that of righteous clans rising up and defeating a great evil – and about a character who defies many conventional narratives on his own – that of status defining how skilled you could be, that for a golden core being necessary for cultivation and other paths being unavailable, that of a tragic but complete story of someone killed for staying true to their moral code (instead, that character returns to life and has a happy ending) – to have its own narrative play a role in such an important and interesting way.

(Or, if an image would be preferable:)

Thank you for reading!

(Part One | Part Two | Full version on AO3)

--

*This strong relation to the present day circumstances is another reason I love the flashback placement so much (and why I think it’s such a loss both screen adaptions altered it so strongly)! 

[carlyraejepsans]

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumble of annoyance. For a second, the red glow in their eye grew faint. "Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you an ache in the neck." It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

Sans wakes up late into the night and sees something he shouldn't have.

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[a-confused-spoon]

Silly question but uhm, would anyone be interested in a Sorvus fanfiction taking place in between book 3 and 4?

The canonical events taken into account would only be the ones of act 1 and some of the short stories from the 'Reflections' collection, but not Through the Moon (so Rayla's around 🙂). I was thinking along the lines of the "slice of life" genre 'cuz I wanted something chill, if not for the fact that the "life" in question is of two guards in a fantasy setting dealing with the first attempt at peace being led by the child ruler they're supposed to guard after centuries of war, so how chill can that actually be...

I've been working on the layout for a while and I don't really have many chapters yet- and by that I mean I barely got the first one done (as in, I don't), but the more ideas pop into my head the more I want to work on it in spite of English not being my first language and uni taking my soul away 👉👈

If I was to go on with it, the platform would be ao3 (duh)

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe.)

In which Tyrus has some trouble with the whole drinking blood thing. Content warning for unspecified eating disorder and mention of SA.

~

Tyrus stared down the corpse of a feral street cat, his stomach aching at the sight—and yet his mind recoiling in disgust and fear.

“Freshly killed,” Astarion said, overly cheerful as he sat down next to him on the bed. “Found it rummaging in the rubbish bins outside the kitchen door of the Elfsong, darling, just a few minutes ago. No diseases, not even that bad-smelling.”

“Thank you,” Tyrus said, putting on a smile.

But Astarion didn’t nod and move away. He was trying but failing to act nonchalant—picking at his nails, casually crossing his legs, but clearly waiting for Tyrus to drink. Watching to see if Tyrus could prove everything was alright, after he’d failed to hide the rat he hadn’t drunk from a night earlier.

Maybe if he did this for Astarion, Tyrus bargained with himself, he’d be able.

So he picked up the carcass . . . and felt all at once nauseous, terrified, and disgusted with himself, the moment it touched his lips.

“It–it smells off again,” Tyrus tried, the same excuse he’d given about the rat, though he remained a terrible liar. When Astarion just gave him an incredulous look, Tyrus sighed and lowered the carcass. “Maybe there’s something wrong with my stomach. The thrombophilic blood still affecting it, or . . .” he shook his head. Or there was just something wrong with him, Tyrus didn’t finish.

Astarion gave him a very displeased look. “Just try a taste, love,” he scolded. “I’m sure your appetite will return to you.”

Tyrus held in a shudder. “Maybe later?” he offered.

But later came, and Tyrus still had no appetite. He blamed it on the blood being too cold, promising to not wait too long next time. Astarion only frowned at the excuse.

For the rest of their tenday in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion didn’t press the issue at least—but he did make pointed remarks about all the new animals and occasional criminals he was tasting, and suggested multiple times that Tyrus join him once they figured out that Polymorph could allow them to go out together. Frowning, every time Tyrus just nodded or gave a noncommittal answer.

It wasn’t until they were down in the Underdark, on the trail of the spawn horde, that Tyrus’s starvation became a liability.

Astarion had always been faster. But with the little rest his mind allowed him, and more than two tendays since he last drank—from a thrombophilic victim, no less—Tyrus was slowing them down terribly. His feet were quick to stumble and make noise, his magic was harder to access. Back at the palace, there were plenty of times he’d been much worse off than this, but few situations where it mattered. Now, in one of the most dangerous terrains in Faerun, he was a liability to them both.

So Tyrus felt a bit of hope, when Astarion went off to scout around the hollow they’d found for the night and came back tugging a deep rothe carcass with him.

“I drank half,” he said with a wide, blood-smeared smile. “The rest is for you, love.”

Tyrus quickly finished his Tiny Hut casting, kneeling over the creature with surprise and interest. The blood smelled rich and strange, but good. Certainly like nothing Tyrus had tasted before.

And yet, when he lowered his lips towards the bite mark Astarion had already made in its fur, Tyrus felt his insides twist with revulsion.

He thought of the rat Leon had used to trap him, that Cazador had spent tendays beating him over. He thought of the larger, festering one he’d hid in the drawer, that had put him in a tomb for a year. Worse, he thought of the rabbit, limp and twisted and deformed in his grip as Cazador raped him. He could still feel it almost, the blood curdling in his stomach the moment he realized what he’d paid for it.

And, much too viscerally, Tyrus thought of the gingery thrombophilic blood resting like lead in his undead limbs, clotting in his lungs, splitting pain in his abdomen and head.

Tyrus heard Astarion let out a small exhale of disbelief, as he pulled back without so much as wetting his lips. But he couldn’t do it. He needed to—but he couldn’t.

“I don’t think I’m hungry enough yet,” he murmured, sitting back up. “You finish it, love.”

When Astarion didn’t immediately answer, he made the mistake of fully looking at him—and felt his soul crumble at the confusion, worry, and heartbreak in his partner’s eyes. Things Tyrus had never wanted to see on Astarion’s face again, and all of it because of him.

Tyrus felt tears build in his eyes in return, and he buried his head in his hands before his face could fully twist with despair. It seemed like all he could do the last two tendays was cry or make problems. Shouldn’t he be happy, not a broken mess? Shouldn’t he want to drink all the blood he could, as he’d dreamed of for so long?

Couldn’t he at least force it down now, for Astarion’s sake?

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he whispered, just before he felt familiar arms come around him, pulling him into his partner’s chest. Tyrus collapsed into it, letting his tears soak into the ruffles of Astarion’s new silk shirt. “I know it’s fine now, and I’m hungry, I should . . .”

“Shhh,” Astarion hushed, holding him just a bit tighter. Kissing the top of Tyrus’s head, before he murmured, “You’re alright.”

After the tears passed, Tyrus shook his head. Sighing as he admitted, “I’m not. I’m slowing us down—we’ll never catch up to them, at this rate.”

Astarion gently pulled back from their embrace and met his eyes with a rather serious expression. “I don’t care when or if we ever find them, Tyrus,” he replied, reaching forward to wipe at his tears. “I’m worried about you. Is there something you would like? Or think might be easier to try, at least?” Astarion let out a sad chuckle, adding, “I’d track down a dragon for you, love, if I knew you’d drink it.”

That cracked a smile on Tyrus’s face as well. Then he sniffed, glancing down at the large creature. “It smells good,” he admitted softly. “Different enough I thought I wouldn’t . . .”

“Recall a bad memory?” Astarion guessed correctly.

“Many,” Tyrus nodded with a sigh—though it wasn’t just the memories, he knew. More accurately, it was all the terrible associations the memories had given him, compounded into one deep aversion.

An aversion he simply couldn’t afford.

“I’ll try again,” Tyrus tried to convince himself, pulling away fully to lean down towards the bovine creature. Focusing in on the differences he could smell in the dead animal’s cooling blood than anything he’d drunk before—more earthy and herbal, for a start.

“That’s it,” he heard Astarion sigh with relief, a hand grounding on his lower back as he pressed his lips over his lover’s bite and forced himself to try. And Tyrus felt a small thrill of happiness, both as the first taste warmed his tongue and when he heard Astarion continue to praise, “You’re doing so well, darling,” already pulling back Tyrus’s hair before he could brush it out of the way himself.

And for a while, he was doing well. Tyrus felt his hunger take over quickly, his instinctive need overriding the crackling static of fear and revulsion in the back of his mind. He couldn’t swallow it down fast enough, near choking with how fast his mouth pulled it in.

Then the carcass twitched, when he needlessly tightened his grip.

All at once Tyrus’s mind catapulted back in time again, now to the day Astarion had tried Polymorph to be fed from, and Tyrus hadn’t even been conscious of how much the lion was fighting him as he greedily drank, taken over by bloodlust for so long before he came to his senses and allowed Astarion to scamper away, bleeding and crying . . .

Tyrus pulled away from the carcass just before he gagged, blood revolting halfway to his stomach—choking out a large portion of it onto the ground.

“That’s alright,” he heard Astarion still soothing him, hands still grounding on his back as Tyrus huffed and gasped then stared blearily at the pool of blood he’d wasted.

But not all of it had been lost. Tyrus could feel his head clearing a significant amount, his focus sharpening, his limbs lightening. This harrowing memory couldn’t hold him for long—Astarion was right here, after all, free and healthy.

So Tyrus sat up straighter, licking absentmindedly at his lips as he turned to Astarion and murmured, “Thank you.”

Astarion gave him a feigned look of confusion. “For allowing you a small taste? This was nothing, darling—I could go and fetch us a whole second beast if this is what you can stomach—though perhaps cattle from the surface might go down smoother for you . . .“

“You are wonderful, you know,” Tyrus laughed, before leaning in and kissing him.

Astarion froze in surprise—and then he let out a pleased moan, kissing back with enthusiasm as he tasted the fruit of his labors on Tyrus’s tongue.

[nana-mizu-shiki]

"You're not flirting with me, are you?"

Was not expecting that ( ﾟ, ﾟ)

[kiwisandpearls]

Hey. Fanfic writer to fanfic writer here,

Stop putting your character(s) x oc fanfics into the character x reader tags.

it’s annoying and doesn’t help anyone.

[queerofthedagger]

love me with the lights out

[Fingon/Maedhros/Maglor | E | 5k | creator chose not to warn]

Written for Day 7 of @silmsmutweek and in collaboration with @magicinavalon who made art! <3

Tags: Porn with a little bit of Plot, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Drugged Sex, BDSM, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst & Smut

Summary:

"Would it help,” Maedhros starts, his tone pensive and his fingers pressing more firmly against Maglor’s jaw. “Would it help if I did not forgive you as easily? If I punished you for what you did not, could not do?” It takes a moment for Maglor to understand, Maedhros pushing images into his mind—of rope and chains and bruised skin, of pain and pleasure mingling without release. It makes him shiver, the thrill quickly followed by shame hot enough that he wants to flinch from it. --- Maglor is unable to let go of his guilt. Maedhros gets inventive about it.

[seriousbrat]

This is so insidious. "Be aware of your language because you might unknowingly be spreading Evil ideology!!" basically just means "don't talk about this at all because it bothers me". It's so so transparent. If I'm constantly having to be careful about what I say about female characters (regardless of my actual intended meaning) because this Supreme Arbiter of Truth might randomly decide it's Terf Rhetoric Actually how can I ever have any sort of meaningful discussion at all? Notice how it's framed as "unknowingly"– if I have no possible way of knowing HOW I'm using Evil Language, how can I possibly avoid it? By shutting up is the answer.

It's based on NOTHING. It's a strawman. There is not a single Lily fan that thinks that Lily is just a mother and nothing else. Seeing Lily as more than a mother and recognising motherhood is important to her story are not mutually exclusive. Furthermore, in what world is pointing out that women are sidelined in fandom terf rhetoric? This person is just deliberately conflating discussions about misogyny in fandom with hate groups because they know that's an easy way to get people riled. They're pretending the main argument against Lily's exclusion in fandom is about motherhood (it's not) and then doing a further mental backflip to stir up moral outrage about people defending female characters.

Be absolutely clear about this- this person KNOWS, deep down, that there is a reason why they only engage with male characters, and this bothers them. Instead of being honest with themselves about it they are inventing a bullshit faux progressive reason to silence any and all criticism and convince their own conscience that they're in the right.

There are no laws, obviously, saying you can't change lily's story or make her a side character if you want. I myself once made her a side character in a prongsfoot fic. The problem is when this is an overwhelming tendency in fandom, which IS significant and IS, in my opinion at least, worth pointing out. When arguably the most important character in the Marauders Era is routinely sidelined in favour of male characters who are literally irrelevant, that does actually say something about what sorts of characters fandom likes to engage with and why. When she's routinely bashed and hated for not really doing anything wrong while male characters who range from bullies to murderers are excused and idealised, that does say something.

It's never pleasant to have to critically examine your own interactions with fiction and accept that your preferences might be rooted in deeper-held beliefs about the world. But it is important, and one way to do this is to facilitate open conversations between different points of view. One way to NOT do this is claiming that everyone else but you is "accidentally" "unknowingly" using evil language so they might as well shut up about their opinions and about women in general.

[youchangedmedestiel]

People reading and leaving kudos on multiple fics I wrote, I'm kissing you on the forehead.

[asclexe]

the house md fandom would be fixed by more femlash

[originalaccountname]

my tragedy is that I don't like the "you've always been the only one/there's never been anyone else" romance trope but I also love to read fics about my ships. and guess what.