#writing is how I healed

[tomfrogisblue]

i forgot to post this during june but i think one of the reasons qsmp was so important was how unapologetically Gay it was

for starters, the number of creators and admins involved who are irl queer of some variation, just chilling in a place where any kind of phobia would get Philza's legendary ban hammer faster than you could say "rainbow jelly"

and then the characters.

i remember showing up that first day and being shocked that somehow foolish had an ex-boyfriend already (I had missed the squidcraft lore apparently)

that server. gay. all the gay. all kinds of gay.

govermentally assigned platonic husbands that stayed together the whole time (despite one of them being gone for months at a time), not a chance in hell of infidelity. Proud fathers of two wonderful children.

governmentally assigned partners who yelled full volume at each other about cheating any time they were in the room together and between the two of them killed two children.

a grieving father and ex-convict becoming one of the most solid couples in the server, with a beautiful wedding and consistent public displays of affection via the in-game chat.

a demon ashamed of who she was and a lonely detective struggling with family trauma, now with a lil girl of their own, to love together and take care of, with more moms than could ever allow the little girl to ever be lonely herself.

a 2b2t warrior coming to terms with his sexuality with the support of his beautiful baby boy at his side, slowly but surely opening up to his eventual Brazilian Boyfriend. Where they went from the most cautious couple (baby steps) to the most sickeningly sweet couple on the server.

- and this list doesn't even scratch the surface.

gay characters, trans characters, ace characters, aroace characters, gender fluid characters, all kinds of relationships and families.

all presented without negativity or shame.

the point of the server was to exchange languages and cultures, without the biases and barriers seen so much in both the content creator scene and the wider world.

it also had a beautiful little side effect, practically by accident.

our lgbtqsmp.

[dreamerdrop]

I don’t talk about my love for Kira Nerys too often because. Look. I think if DS9 handles anything well, it’s Kira, hands down.

Her character development is a work of art. She is so traumatised, so angry, so beaten down and STILL FIGHTING at the start. She struggles so much with her PTSD, with the idea that she is ever allowed to be in anything but attack mode…

And then, slowly, gradually, she becomes a whole new person. She laughs, she smiles, she makes corny jokes, she does dumb fun things for the sake of enjoying herself. She has friends, she has a family, she is surrounded by love and joy and HOPE.

Even in the middle of second war, she’s DIFFERENT now. She’s not the same miserable angry person she was, afraid to let go of the vigilant surivival instincts that kept her alive for so long. She’s come back to life as a person who has something to live for.

She has done terrible things. Her hands are stained with blood. She is never going to be able to forget her trauma or the suffering, both her own and that of her people, nor the suffering she inflicted while fighting for her freedom. But she recovers. She heals. She carves out an existence where she is truly, genuinely happy to be alive.

I don’t need to talk about Kira as much as some other characters because this all happens on screen. It’s right there, and it’s beautiful and perfect.

Kira Nerys goes from a person who cannot conceive of herself outside of the horrors she has suffered, inflicted, and fought against, to someone for whom her trauma is just one part of the larger picture, a piece of a rich and vibrant tapestry that is now filled, overwhelmingly, with joy.

Kira Nerys is like, hands down, bar none, one of, if not THE best characters Star Trek has ever created. I love her so much. She is just, completely and utterly perfect, especially in her flaws.

[abyssal-ilk]

no more romance. romance is canceled. tell me about your warden/hawke/inquisitor's best friend and any info you want to add about their dynamic 🖐

[vampireposter]

meeting wyll at the grove, as someone who the tieflings trust enough to train their children, says so much about him. it's so sad that he doesn't get explored in acts 2-3 as deeply as the other companions, when his problems are equally intense. the average player probably long rests once before coming across the grove, but even if not, in that time wyll has already proven to the tieflings that they can rely on the Blade of Frontiers.

this is the immediate first thing he chooses to do after being condemned to slow death via ceremorphosis. his priority list in the first conversations with tav is: 1) hunt down a dangerous devil, 2) help zevlor with the goblins, 3) once nothing threatens the tieflings he will gladly search for a tadpole cure. wyll is perpetually his own last priority, and i wonder if it has to do with the lore about souls.

if he believes mind flayers' souls have been destroyed, and fiend warlocks will all have their souls sent to the hells after death, then becoming a mind flayer isn't the worst possible way for him to die. he would never become a mindless monster to save his own soul, but he's not gripped by horror the way that some of the other origin characters are. lae'zel has been made revoltingly impure to her people, astarion is terrified of losing the scrap of bodily autonomy he just regained, gale is guilt-ridden over the orb detonation if he dies, shadowheart has to survive to prove herself to her cult leader, and karlach has also just regained bodily autonomy and is desparate to live.

this is just another quest for the Blade, whose persona guards wyll ravengard against the vice of self-concern when he ought to be concerned for those in need.

[mikakuna]

nothing would be funnier than the bats universe-hopping and finding all these different versions of jason, and shoving in their jason's face that these alternate jasons would not agree with his fatal treatment of criminals (because some of them look straight up happy and have great relationships with bruce + the others).

but then to everybody's surprise, each jason has their own variation of their jason's methods. they literally all have similar opinions, even the ones who didn't die at the joker's hands. some were robin and some were never robin, some were adopted by bruce and others weren't, some lived worse lives than their jason and others lived much better lives-- but they all became their own version of red hood either way.

and jason is just absolutely having the best time looking at the bats' disappointed faces

[astrolavas]

thinking about the... potential clawthorne woodcarving mentorship.

+ bonus cuz also thinking abt how if hunter ever met dell's palisman and got reminded of flapjack, he'd probably feel bad abt making that association cuz he knows what it's like to be seen only as someone's different version (even though the bird wouldn't mind much so lol)

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[snowdrop-yoongi]

my favorite thing about baek hyun-woo's portrayal is that he isn't even a loser. he's an incredibly cool and competent lawyer who also happens to act like a loser

[shaanks]

okay BUT think about the way Shanks acts when you kiss him. The way he giggles into it at first, grinning against your lips with all the playful, casual joy that made you fall in love with him to begin with.

The way he wraps his arm around you, pulls you close, hums softly when it's clear you're not letting go, the way he breathes so slowly as the weight of it settles in his chest, soft and warm and soothing. The way he seems to pull all the breath out of you when he deepens it, the way the wind seems to tug at you like the whole world turns on your shared heartbeat.

think about the way his eyes glisten with something so tender it's almost wounded when you pull away just enough to tell him you love him. that of every soul alive and every treasure at sea, he's the one you want.

think about how Shanks is so easy and indulgent and giving with his affection, but rocked to his core by how freely and honestly you give him yours.

[allthecastlesonclouds]

hi something something bad kids all magic users now something something everyone learning how to save each other something something they've all got friendship bracelets and they're gonna make it through this year if it KILLS them

[joaniejustwokeup]

DPxDC Prompt:

The next blow sent the human tumbling into the wall. It wheezed and spat up a gob of blood, pulling itself up on trembling arms and legs.

Pathetic.

“So this is the mortal who captured our young king’s attention. The so-called warrior who he trusted with the sacred duty of guarding his core.”

A shadowed hand pinned it to the wall and it uselessly pawed at the blade-like claws pressed against its fragile throat.

“How a weakling like you seduced High King Phantom, I’ll never know.”

The human squeezed its eyes shut. I’m sorry Danny, it mouthed with cracked and bleeding lips.

The impudence.

Slammed into the ruined bricks once more, the human let out a breathless cry.

“You dare address him like that. You dare to call upon his living name!” Dagger sharp teeth dripped shadowy ectoplasm inches from the mortal’s flesh.

“I’m doing him a favor, disposing of you.”

There was silence.

Then.

The human looked up with glowing green eyes.

A wave of unearthly force erupted from its body.

A dual layered voice echoed out from its miserable throat.

“Oh you just made a BIG mistake.”

[vivika-ka]

fixated on the fact that Luffy’s heartbeat is referred to as “drums of liberation,” which means Law not only held the divine instrument of freedom in his hands, he also healed it.

[buttdumplin]

I’m still on the latine reader train and fucking of course I had to do one of their baby’s ears getting pierced. The boys all react a little differently, but boy, are they amazing fathers.

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, piercing mentioned but not described, baby is nicknamed Bug word count: 3k

It’s not something you’d spend a lot of time thinking about, getting your baby girl’s ear pierced. Hell, it wasn’t something you had a hard opinion on even before she came into your lives. But one day, something stirs in you. She’s around 5mos old, trying her hardest to roll over in the center of a nest of pillows her fathers have piled up around her, when you make the call. And while your partners are all understanding and loving, Kyle is the one you approach.

You plop down on the couch next to him, pulling his arms around you to make him hold you. Testing the waters, you spread small, quick kisses on his cheek. It’s a clear gauge of his current mood, and it has him squinting down at you. Not judging, more curious. He knows you’re about to drop something. 

“I’m thinking about getting Bug little golden studs.”

“That would make a lovely heirloom for when she gets older, something she can keep on her.”

“No, I mean la voy a llevar down to the piercer this week.”

His arms stiffen around you, and his lack of immediate response makes you turn to look at him. Kyle’s eyes are locked on the baby, his face perfectly neutral in a way you know he’s mastered for his job, like this was also somehow a threat to national security, to life as he knew it to be.

 “Vida mía… are you sure?” concern finally creeping in to scrunch his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m worried arracadas would snag on something as she’s learning to move more.”

It’s his turn to look at you, and all Kyle finds on your face is the stillness of peace that comes with having made a decision. 

“We’ll wait to tell the others,” he knows better than to ask and it has you throwing a big, beaming smile his way. All he can do at this point is return your kisses and ask you to share a link to the shop you want to take your baby girl to. 

You got to bed excited that night, thrilled by Kyle’s support. He, on the other hand, stays up late hidden in the bathroom, digging up as much info as he can on the shop to make sure it’s a reputable place. He’s reading every single review folks have left on both the individual piercers and the place itself, and he’s pinching in on every picture to zoom in and look for even the smallest sign of something wrong. A single picture of misaligned piercings would be all that it takes from him to call it all off. But he finds nothing. No skeezy people in the shop, no questionable client pictures, and the shop even has their health and safety certifications on proud display. Well, at least it seems like you chose a good shop.

The next day, Kyle is driving you down to the shop, hands tight on the steering wheel. He wants to be there. He has to be there. Pleased with all his digging and research on the shop, he holds Bug and coos down at her as you run through the details with the piercer. He’s straining his ears like never before, just to try to catch the piercer saying a single thing that sounds off so he can haul you both out of the shop and back home. But again, everything checks out. 

His voice is low and rough as he says, “I’d like to hold her as you do it, if that’s alright.”

You know he’s just trying to look out for Bug, trying to maintain some type of control in this terrifying moment, so you just kiss his shoulder and nod at him. Kyle doesn’t say much else. He sits still with his little girl in his arms, eyes wider than usual, taking in every detail he can.

Are the needles and jewelry sterile? The piercer’s pen marks look even on her little ears. Are the piercer’s hands shaking? This close to her little face?

It all happens quickly and nearly painlessly. You’re pretty sure Bug only cried out from how tense Kyle’s arms got as the needle came closer, scared just from sensing his fear. As the piercer finishes cleaning off your little girl’s ears, you hear Kyle release what must have been a held breath. The strain around his eyes immediately warns you of the blistering headache he just gave himself. 

You take his hand gently, “All done.”

He nods shakily and presses a kiss to the top of Bug’s head.

He’s never been so proud of his baby girl before. She faced off with something sharp and pain, and she barely batted an eye. Even after, it was almost like nothing had happened. Bug went back to babbling away in an attempt to talk to the piercer, who was kind enough to carry on a short conversation with her. It makes his heart swell with an unbelievable amount of hope. She’ll be able to face the entire world itself by the time she’s grown.

Kyle spends the drive back home in the backseat, looking for any signs of discomfort as your little girl sleeps, her little hand locked around his finger, his smile completely stuck on his face.

~

Simon is the only one home when you get back. He sits in the living room, putzing around with all of Bug’s toys and rugs, clearly waiting for you to get home and preparing for some play time. There aren’t any Baby and Me classes that day, at least as far as he knows. So it must have been something else that pulled you from the house.

He greets both you and Kyle with a soft kiss and a little hum, then reaches for the carseat, “How’s our sweet girl?”

Her gurgles answer him, and she gives him a big gummy smile as he pulls her from the seat. You and Kyle slowly move to put the key and car seat and jackets away, keeping a careful eye on Simon. He lays his baby girl down in his lap, helping bicycle her little legs with big, tender hands. And everything seems fine. Simon is clearly happy to be spending time with Bug again, and you and Kyle both let out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief. The sound of it, unfortunately, is bigger than it should in the room, taking up all the space left open by Simon’s absolute silence. Your eyes go wide and meet Kyle’s, his own reflecting the slight worry in yours, and you both sit on either side of Simon.

“Cariño, are you alright?” you plant a kiss on his cheek, Kyle’s arm finds its way around Simon’s back.

Now that you’re next to him, you can see the little quiver of his lower lip and the tears gathering on blonde lashes, eyes locked in on the little golden studs. His stuttered breathing is the only thing to break the silence.

“She’s so little,” he chokes out, “It must have hurt her so bad.” His tears finally fall as his fingers hover near the baby’s ears. 

Kyle presses himself against Simon’s side, “Oh, sweetheart. She’s alright, just look at how happy she is to be with you now.”

“Le dolió más a Kyle than it did her, and he just held her through the whole thing.”

Simon immediately remembers all the times he’s held his baby girl as she’s gotten her shots, how she’s squirmed and cried til she was purple in the face, and he takes another stuttering breath, “What if it makes her scared of jewelry, what if she comes to associate it all with pain?”

You can’t help but smile a little at the stark differences of the picture before you. Simon’s big frame hunches over the baby and his large, scarred hands gently hold her, his face growing ruddy as more tears fall and he starts to sniffle. Meanwhile Bug is wiggling away happily as she lays against the warmth of his thighs, little fists swinging around, feet kicking excitedly at the sound of Simon’s voice. 

“I think she’ll be glad she won’t have to heal those piercings as an adult,” you say, carefully wiping his tears away. 

Simon chuckles at your comment, taking a tissue from Kyle to clean up his nose, “Yeah, I suppose it is easier now since she’s still sleeping on her back.”

“Plus think of all the jewelry we’ll get to buy her as she grows, toda chipleada.”

Simon gives a full laugh at that, his hands returning to bicycling Bug’s legs. His chest moves with the deep breaths he finally allows himself, his little girl’s infectious smile catching on his face too. What a beautiful, softhearted man he is. He turns to give you each a kiss on the forehead as you and Kyle lean against him, “I’ll have to start tucking away some more money for that then.”

By the time he’s bringing Bug down to the ground to get her moving and playing with her toys, his tears have stopped. A few sniffles pop up every now and then, but he’s smiling, his big, brown eyes warm with love as he plays with her. Simon slowly moves to lay down next to her, mimicking her as she lays on her tummy, his head resting against his folded arms. His eyes flick to her ears every now and then, as if he’s trying to keep an eye out for a potential reaction. But the more pressing matter turns out to be how hard her little hands grab at his face, pulling at his lip until he’s giggling too. He doesn’t flinch a single time. He never will, not with his loved ones. They’re the people he trusts with his entire being. 

~

Johnny’s the next one to come home, arriving just a couple of hours later. He comes in the door to find you’re all working on setting up lunch: Kyle is on table duty and sets out drinks, you’re finishing up shoving doritos into the sandwiches, and Simon is still in the living room with baby Bug. Johnny smiles so big his face hurts a little. There are few things he loves as much as just seeing his little family. He could have the single worst day at work, but coming home to yall? That fixes his entire world. 

He stands by the door, where he can see all of you, and throws his arms out, “My loves, my dearest ones, I am home.” 

You all turn to smile at him. Normally, you’d all come up to greet him with a kiss. It’s a cute little ritual he’s come to love. But you’re all understandably occupied, so it’s his turn to make rounds. He steps to you and Kyle in the kitchen first, pulling you both into his arms so he can place light, lingering kisses to your mouths.

“Feeling your lips against mine once again has righted the world,” his big declarations of love will never truly end, but yall well know just how ecstatic he is to be home again. He’s quick to steal a couple of chips from you, shoving them into his mouth before you can reprimand him. Kyle receives a quick swat to his bum and he chases after Johnny a couple of steps, mirth lighting both their faces.

Johnny jogs over to join Simon on the floor, giving him a careful kiss as well.

“Our sweet Bug, trying so hard to roll. What a perfect little-”

And you know he’s clocked it. The sunshine gleaming off her little studs catches his eye.

“What’s this?” he rises back to his feet, eyes darting to each of your faces.

 Simon is the first to try to address his concern, “She’s alright, love. Watch, she’s moving about like nothing happened.”

“No. No. She’s too small to be dealing with this,” Johnny’s pacing the room, hand in his hair as his eyes continue to bounce between your faces. He keeps looking down at his baby girl, the little gold in her ears still shining, her happy little babbling only stopping as she tries to pull Simon’s finger into her mouth. And still, Johnny paces. 

 “It’s perfectly safe for her age, and the shop was of the highest quality,” Kyle says, stepping into the living room as Johnny continues to wear a track into the carpet. The technical reassurance has him pausing for a moment, the hand clenched in his hair relaxing a fraction. 

“But why?” Johnny’s voice climbs a little higher. He’ll never shout at any of you, but the emotion has to come out somehow. “She’s so young. This could have waited.”

More and more questions and rationalizations sprout from his mouth as his pacing picks back up. He brings up his sisters, he brings up his ma. None of them got piercings until they were much older. Then they could pick what they wanted and where. He briefly mentions consent, worried that this means he’s also overstepped as a father. And at one point he just says the word “baptism” and lets out a long groan. Still, he paces. His eyes turn electric with the sheer need to understand. He’s spiraling.

“Johnny, it’s cultural,” you cut through his rambling. It stops him in his tracks. 

“Cultural?”

You give him a nod, and his shoulders ease down from their tense clench. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so? We’ll have so many cute options for her once they heal,” he says with a smile once again adorning his face, plopping down to join Simon and Bug. “Is there a sandwich for me too, or should I make my own?”

 You let out a breathless laugh, the boys look up at you from the floor, smiles toothy and proud.

Kyle covers his face with his hands for a moment, mumbling something to himself before going back into the kitchen, “Yeah, we already have one for you, you brat.”

~

When Price arrives home, he lingers by the door for just a moment, taking in all the sounds of his family chattering and giggling away. He’ll never say it out loud, at least not unless he’s directly asked, but the sound alone of all of you happy and healthy and safe rejuvenates him, adds another 5 years to his life every time. He smiles a little to himself as he puts his shoes into the rack, mindful of where he stores his pack too. You’ve been kind enough to help figure out a system to keep all their shit straight and easily accessible for coming and going, and he tries to reinforce it so much with the other boys that he’s not about to fuck it up.

He’s still smiling as he joins the rest of you in the living room. Price is expecting the usual big smiles and lunging for hugs, but instead, he’s met with all of you trying to talk over each other. Kyle’s on the floor with Simon, both with a hand to help Bug sit up, and you and Johnny are shoving and trying to push the other behind. He can make out Johnny saying the word “cultural” over and over again, but the rest is jumbling together. 

Price raises a single hand, immediately silencing the room, “You can all explain what exactly is going on, one at a time, but first I will make my rounds.” 

He makes his way around the room, carefully bending for a kiss from each of you. Truly, of all the rules yall have put in place, this is one of Price’s favorites, the greeting smooches for everyone when they come in the door. It gives yall a chance to reconnect, and it really helps him settle back into the peace of his role as a father and partner. He gets to focus on his family in these moments, and he wouldn’t trade that for the fucking world.

As he picks Bug up to give her her own little smooch, the commotion starts again, making him raise his hand once more. He looks over his sweet little girl, taking in her excited little noises and smiling in return.

“Gold looks beautiful on you, Bug,” he murmurs as he gives her another smooch, enjoying the little squealing his facial hair causes. 

You let out a little whoop and the rest of the boys give a joyous little cheer as well, immediately launching into how they can use this new development to best spoil their precious Bug. And that’s all there is to it. At least in that moment.

Later on, as you’re all getting ready for bed, you notice Price is still in the nursery. He’s messing with the baby monitor, turning it on and off a couple of times to check the battery, bringing it in as close to the crib as he can. All he needs to do is tap on it to check the mic to complete a full system check. And just as you’re about to call him to bed, he does just that. He turns at the sound of your chuckle, his face so pink you know it’s spread all the way down his neck.

“You bought the top-of-the-line monitor, remember, corazon? Todo ese dinero on fancy walkie-talkies,” you press the words against his chest as he holds you close.

“Can never be too sure.”

A couple of hours later, you’re trying to untangle yourself from the too-warm cuddle puddle and all the entangled legs when you notice Price is no longer in bed. But you hear it before you get too far in your search for him, his gravelly voice humming a song through the baby monitor. 

You walk into the nursery to spot him on the big rocking chair, his legs up and reclined as possible, Bug sleeping against his bare chest. 

“She’s wounded,” he croaks as you run your fingers through his hair, “she needs her daddy to heal.” 

You don’t bring attention to the way his voice is choked up with tears, “Claro que sí, papi.”

“You were her age when you got yours?”

“I was younger.”

“And it didn’t hurt?”

“Never.”

He goes quiet, relishing the feeling of her little back rising and falling under his hand as she breathes.

“Can we take her to the guest room? Sleep with her? At least for tonight?” his nervousness seeps into his voice as he asks.

You grab the baby monitor with you as you walk him towards the guest room, just so the boys don’t panic when they wake up. Thank god yall regularly maintain the guest rooms, it makes settling the pillows and bedding much easier this late at night.

Price shakes his head when you motion towards the center of the bed for him to lay Bug down. Instead, he climbs in alongside you, keeping a sleeping Bug on his chest.

“Just for tonight,” he whispers, “Just for tonight.”

In the morning, Kyle’s voice wakes you, “I don’t know how Bug does it. She sleeps better through his snoring than any of us.”

AN: Once again, HUGE fucking shoutout to @mikichko for encouraging this and also giving us Price's precious line of "she's wounded, she needs her daddy to heal." I can't thank you enough, Kiko.

[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.

[waitineedaname]

I can't remember if I've posted about this before but one of the things I find really interesting about scum villain is the way it handles the cycle of abuse and how revenge is ultimately unfulfilling. Shen Jiu treats Luo Binghe the way he does because of his own abuse and trauma that he suffered. He never managed to escape from the patterns of abuse that shaped his life, and he ended up perpetuating the same cycle onto Binghe, fucking him up in the same way he was fucked up

And so Luo Binghe gets revenge on the person who hurt him, just like Shen Jiu got revenge on his abusers. And maybe it's a relief in the moment, to know that this person couldn't hurt you anymore, but it's not satisfying in the long run. You can't end the pattern of violence with more violence, you won't heal those wounds on the soul by digging the knife in deeper. Luo Bingge might have made himself into an untouchable powerful person, too powerful to ever be hurt in a meaningful way again, but he still has that gaping hole inside him, a festering wound in his heart. He's still so hungry, even if he doesn't know what for. He's still unsatisfied

And in the Bingge vs. Bingmei extra, we get a glimpse of what he's hungry for -- he gets a taste of genuine love and tenderness, and it knocks him off balance. He sees what it's like to be handled with gentle compassion, and he's so hungry for it, he wants to grab it and take it for himself, but this isn't something he can take with all his violence and power. All he knows is this cycle of violence and conquest, that's the only way he knows how to interact with the world because it's all he was taught, but the love he craves isn't something he can grab violently. And so he's left to return to his universe, lonely and unfulfilled in a world where he has everything except the thing he wants the most

[szaryherbatnik]

I blacked out for an hour and found this on my screen