#I have to justify this to myself so I don't make things too plain and direct

[with-ink-and-quill]

The Sound of Your Voice

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Tags: demisexual Tav! (they/them) mostly flirting and sass, but brief mentions of rejection trauma, Act 1 compliant

Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet morning, but a short, bitter exchange between Astarion and Shadowheart has Tav paying just a little too much attention to how words are shared.

Word Count: 4999

AO3

A/N: Yeah I don't have much for this, it just kind of happened lmao please enjoy and if you want more uhh drop a like/reblog and hopefully my brain will throw out more ideas

The sky was still tinged with the dusty colors of dawn as the camp slowly woke up. Gale was sleepily digging through the collected rations, stifling yawns as he gathered ingredients for breakfast. Karlach was still snuffling out soft snores by the fire, the embers smoldering closest to her. Shadowheart was perched at the water's edge, pressing cold water to her face to chase away sleep. Lae'zel was beginning her morning stretches, the shining greatsword making slow sweeps through the air to cut down her imagined foes. Wyll was sitting by the fire near the sleeping tiefling looking barely more awake than her, but trying to encourage some life back into the wood. Astarion was still missing, assumedly out hunting or stealing some few quiet moments in the sun for himself. Tav was wearily sitting up in their bedroll, trying to rub the sleep from their eyes and cringing at the ache in their neck.

It was partly from sleeping on the ground and partly from the bite mark still healing from a few days ago. Shadowheart had offered to heal it properly the day it had happened, an unhappy slant to her mouth, but they had brushed her off with a smile. It was important to know the price, after all, and they had chosen to offer themselves. It didn't feel right to wave it away. They had relented to let the cleric properly dress the little wound, all too aware of the eyes staring down the vampire as it happened. The group had only been together for a few weeks, but everyone seemed a bit protective of Tav and a bit too ready to turn on the offending pair of fangs. No one had made more than a passing remark about it, at least, thanks in no small part to their insistence that they encouraged Astarion. That they trusted him. The man himself had been all smug smiles and shrugging confidence, but his gaze had been fixed on Tav through it all as if they were a queer puzzle; as if calculating where his next flash of teeth or dripping affections should be placed. It had sat uncomfortably on their shoulders ever since.

With a creaking yawn and shivering stretch, they rolled up their bed and plunked themselves next to Wyll. A murmuring good morning was exchanged, both of them equally half hearted in the attempt but smiling. They let a little bolt of fire spring from their fingers, properly igniting the logs the warlock had carefully propped back into order and he let the flint drop gratefully from his hands. They warmed themselves in peaceful quiet for a moment before the man was called over by Gale. Something about catching some fish for a refreshing breakfast and how the wizard could collect them himself with magic, but it was such a nice morning to ruin it with carnage. Tav smiled, huffing a quiet little laugh as they drooped forward on the log, eyes sliding closed. They were simply still tired from waking so early, that was all.

The log shifted as someone sat next to them and they started slightly, jerking awake as if preparing to get scolded. Shadowheart was perched next to them, doing a poor job to hide a laugh at their reaction. Her hair was neatly braided, not a single sign that the cleric had been resting even ten minutes prior. Her face was the usual mask of distant interest and hidden thoughts, but her eyes were fixed on the white bandage at their neck. They ran a hand almost nervously through their hair.

"Are you still exhausted, Tav?" She asked, not bothering to waste time with the check in this morning. "I confess little experience with such bites, but it worries me that you're still affected days later. Are you sure I can't heal it properly? We wouldn't want you to drop in battle over it."

They held their hands up defensively, shaking their head. "It's fine, I'm fine, honestly." They smiled, trying to disarm her worry. "I think it's just because of the last few days. Infiltrating the goblin camp has been a lot and letting that follower of Loviatar perform his, erm… ritual right after the bite was probably a poor idea on my part."

She huffed slightly, crossing her arms. "You didn't let me heal you after that, either. I am a competent cleric, you know. You don't have to rely on potions to fix everything."

"I know, I know!" There was a soothing tone to their voice, an almost sheepish look on their face. "I just… think there are better uses of your magic than fixing my choices. If we had gotten caught trying to find the druid, I figured it would be better if you had every option available in the fight. Being a little woozy isn't enough to take me out, anyways."

A heavy sigh escaped her as she shook her head. "You're hopeless, you know that? Our leader shouldn't be unsteady on their feet in a fight because they thought it was a good idea to let a vampire spawn use them as a snack." The term had fallen from her lips with venom, disdain obvious.

"Don't." The word snapped out before they caught themselves, a surprised look plain on their face before they rushed forward. "Um, please, don't call him a spawn. Not like that."

Her brows were furrowed, confused and a little annoyed. "Why ever not? It's exactly what he is."

They floundered for a moment, a hand spinning in the air as they tried to detangle their thoughts from a sleep addled mind. "It's, um, it's the way you said it. Like he's some gross creature instead of our companion."

She snorted, "Well…"

"I don't like it." They murmured, their mouth forming an unhappy line and eyes downcast. "We don't pick what we are or what our past was like. Maybe it's a little optimistic or soft of me, but if nothing else this whole situation is kind of like a new beginning, you know? We get to define ourselves again. I don't want to judge you all based on things that already happened, on ideas that others forced on us. You're all my dear companions and we're in this together. Our choices from here on matter more, right?"

"You're right, that is very soft." They both jumped at Astarion's voice coming from behind them suddenly, a wide grin on his bloody lips as they both turned to look at him. Shadowheart let out a little noise of disgust at the sight. "Do forgive my lack of decorum, I couldn't help but overhear you two on my way to wash up and felt the need to weigh in." He pointed a single delicate finger at the cleric. "You can call me whatever you like, I don't care. I'm honestly more surprised you can remember such disdain towards creatures like myself than I am offended by your tone considering the mess you let your dear goddess make of your head."

"Astarion!" Tav hissed, worry creasing their face as their eyes darted between the two.

Shadowheart's shoulders had climbed towards her ears as she pulled in a sharp breath, a look of thunder in her eyes. "Don't you dare try to talk to me about my holy mission. At least I have a purpose besides being a leech."

"At least I know what I'm about, darling." He countered smoothly, the smile on his lips all sharp edges.

"I didn't know slowly killing your own leader was such a strong identity to you." The cleric smirked, for all intents and purposes looking down on the vampire despite the height difference.

"Guys, please-" Tav tried to step between them, pleading, but they leaned closer together, sneering at each other as their voices rose.

"Careful, pet, I might try sampling you next. I do so enjoy a meal with spirit." His eyes were pure hunger as he loomed, a dire sight with blood still smeared around his mouth.

"Oh, do try. It'll be so fun to burn you to ash while you scream." Shadowheart was all cold angles and frigid looks, like a moonless night.

Tav was desperately trying to be heard over their barbs, frustration causing tears to prick their eyes. Why weren't they listening? This wasn't helping anything, but it was like nothing else existed beyond their vitriol for each other. A hand clutched at their shirt collar, trembling as they struggled to find the thread that would defuse the two before a large figure suddenly rose beside them. Karlach had woken up. They took a step back as she grabbed the offending party members by the scruff of their shirts and hauled them apart. She was quick to let go before her touch could properly cause harm, but it had been a sudden and very hot point of contact. They both yelped slightly, startled.

"It is too fucking early for you two to be yelling." The tiefling groused, voice thick with sleep still. "Can you go be school children out in the woods or something? Or better yet, stop freaking Tav out." They both snapped slightly guilty looks at the adventurer. "Great, good talk. I'm going to harass Gale for food now and if I hear yelling from either of you, I'm going to give you something to scream about."

As the warrior trudged over to where the wizard was cutting up veggies the two shot glares at each other. Tav was worried they were simply going to continue the fight, albeit a great deal quieter. They were about to bodily put themselves between them, but then Shadowheart let out an annoyed tch.

"This isn't over, Astarion." She snapped before smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "But Karlach is right. Besides, you aren't worth the breath."

He bodily rolled his eyes. "'Not over,' she says. Darling, it's been over before you even started swinging." And then he was suddenly too close to Tav, a finger hooked in the bandage around their neck and pulling gently. "Isn't that right, my sweet?" His voice was husked, dripping with smug affection and they couldn't help the blush that sprang to their cheeks as they slapped a hand over his. He laughed, eyes darting to the cleric. "You could just tell her instead of dancing around it every morning."

"Tell me what-" But then she stopped, realization dawning and her hands formed fists at her side. "Tav, have you been letting him feed from you this entire time?"

"I- um, well-" they stuttered, suddenly feeling very warm and lightheaded. "I mean, uh, sometimes- yes." The affirmation slipped free quietly as they deflated, defeated.

Shadowheart was pinching the bridge of her nose now as Astarion grinned devilishly at their side. "Oh, darkness preserve me," she muttered before rounding back on Tav. "I would have liked to know that. I can't make you stop indulging the spawn," and the word fell like another curse from her lips, "but I can at least counteract the effect. Next time, you are telling me and letting me heal you. I am not having this bastard be the reason you get hurt out there."

It wasn't a request, more of a demand, and they nodded numbly. "Okay. Sorry." They paused, almost vibrating with embarrassment. "Thank you, Shadowheart. For, um, caring, and trusting my decision."

"I think it's an incredibly stupid one, but we need all the help we can get, even from such pests." She hissed at Astarion before sighing, turning towards her tent. "And do wash up, Astarion. You look abysmal like that."

"Maybe to you! Tav seems to like it well enough." He was grinning wolfishly at them, eyebrow cocked.

They smothered a distraught noise in their hands, hiding. "Why did you do that?" They whined. "Now everyone knows."

"Are you ashamed, darling?" His tone had been jovial, teasing, but there was an edge in it.

"I mean, no, not exactly. It's just… we had a nice system and no one knew. They wouldn't say anything about it…" They were struggling again to sort out their feelings.

"Pet, they were going to notice the bandage never being taken off and always freshly applied." He was patting their head much like one comforts a sulking cat. "Besides, that was a far more fun reveal than letting them slowly piece it together."

"Then why do I feel mortified?" They groaned, dragging their hands over their face.

"You're a sweet, innocent creature unused to having such a devilishly charming specimen like myself showering you with affections." He offered brightly, linking an arm with theirs and leading them towards the water's edge.

"You are incorrigible." Tav sighed, begrudgingly letting themselves be pulled away from the warm fire.

"In all the best ways." He winked, flashing them a brilliant smile.

They nudged him playfully with their elbow and he laughed, the sound fresh and crisp to their ears. It caused their unease to melt instantly, a happy hum escaping them. They lingered a few steps behind him on the pebbled shore, perching on a rock as he knelt down. A hand hovered over the water, almost nervous, before he pressed it into the cold current. They thought idly how it must be a wonder for him, being in the sun and enjoying moving water without pain or worse. How the world must be so much fuller than he was used to. As he pressed handfuls of water to his lips, ruby streams washing away, they simply watched. The morning sun danced as silver light through his hair, glimmering in his crimson eyes, and shimmering in the water droplets he was wiping clean. He was dazzling in the daylight. It was easy to understand how so many had become his victims. There was a nagging worry in the back of their mind, wondering if they were simply his next mark. But then he was looking at them, that knowing smirk on his lips and crooked brow taunting and they couldn't help but smile.

"Enjoying yourself over there?" He teased, running a wet hand through his curls. "I am a rather distracting sight, aren't I?"

"The sun suits you." They murmured, lost for a moment in thought. "You're beautiful in its light."

He blinked at them, the usual charm melting away from the blunt compliment before it reasserted itself. He mimed an exaggerated swoon, grinning. "You can call me whatever you like if you keep showering me with such glowing compliments." Their mood seemed to fall at that, brows furrowing, and he let out a questioning hum as he stood to face them. "What is it, darling?"

They wrapped their arms around themselves, as if finally feeling the cold morning air. "Doesn't it bother you?" Their voice wavered slightly as they tried to delicately pick their words. "How people call you such terrible things, with such ugly sounds?"

He sighed, propping a hand on his hip as the other waved in the air. "I stopped dedicating so much energy to that decades ago. I'm achingly gorgeous and it's obvious they all know it, I see it in their eyes, hear it in how their hearts skip in my presence. What do I care if they call me spawn or leech when I know they're furious over how beautiful I am?" His free hand came to rest under his chin, framing his face as he fluttered delicate eyelashes at them. "I'd love it if they would simply flatter me like I deserve, but with their own bodies betraying their want, the scathing names can be just as enjoyable."

They were searching his face as he preened, trying to peel back the honeyed words to find the core of the feeling. There was a hollowness to him that they just couldn't quite place. A mechanical touch to his every move that was steadily confusing them the more time they spent together. It felt like a front of sorts, though they didn't quite grasp why he was always throwing it up. They wanted to reach out to him, cradle his face with tender hands and soothe whatever roiling ocean thrashed below his surface. They wanted to understand why he was always on the defense, dancing around them and keeping them at arm’s length.

Their mouth moved silently, awkwardly trying to form the desire into words. But their heart stuttered with fear, afraid that questioning him would cause him to dance further away, to melt into the sunlight and disappear. So instead they bit their lip, head bowing slightly as their hands tangled together in their lap. "It bothers me." They offered meekly. "We're supposed to be a team, helping each other get through this, but still they resort to such… such name-calling and bitterness. You haven't done anything to deserve being dismissed with spawn. You aren't a leech for needing blood to live. You aren't a pest simply because of your concern for yourself. Being different," their voice faltered, quiet, "doesn't make you less than others."

The rocks hadn't made a sound as he closed the distance between them, the only indication of his presence the shadow he cast and the cool touch of his hand on their cheek. He kneeled before them, ducking his head to theirs so his crimson eyes could meet their gaze, half lidded and searching. His thumb swept over over their lips, a smile gracing his own. "I do not care what they say. What need have I for their opinions when I have such sublime notions for me falling from your lips? Their praise is hollow compared to my name on your tongue. Your smile banishes all their petty jealousy like the sun banishes the rains. The world pales in comparison to your divine laugh." He was leaning in closer now, head tilted to the side slightly, mouth almost brushing theirs as his voice fell to a hush. "If I could have you, my sweet, then I would want for nothing."

They didn’t move as he kissed them, his hand sliding to the back of their head to press more firmly. They were too overwhelmed, too baffled at this turn of events. He was a helpless flirt, but he was like that to everyone. They weren’t special, they hadn’t thought they were so special. Yet it still felt like a performance, like he had rehearsed those lines in the mirror for a month straight before offering them up. As his fangs nipped at their lips, his tongue searching to pass them, their face contorted unhappily. Their hands pressed against his chest, pushing back against his advance as a displeased hum vibrated through them. He pulled back sharply, a mess of emotions on display. Foremost was sheer terror before it instantly warped into confused anger, indigent at their response. It was as if he had never been denied before.

It caused them to pause, their annoyance melting to panicked realization. He would misunderstand, had misunderstood. They hadn’t meant to walk him down this road, not like this. They never did. Their hands scrambled on the rock as they pulled themselves to their feet, taking large steps back and gulping for air. His own motions were slow, measured as he stood, head tilted in accusation and a sharp glint in his eyes. He pressed a hand to his chest, bowing ever so slightly as the other swept away from him.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He husked, an almost uncertain lilt to his voice. “I can be slower, gentler if that’s what you want.”

Something about the way he said want rang with a sour note to them. They shook their head adamantly, hands held up in defense before them. Rocks ground under their foot as their weight shifted, anxiety buzzing through their skull as they struggled against the turmoil brewing in their heart. He seemed to falter slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in disbelief.

“Did you want me to be more forceful?” There was a purr now to his voice, a fascination.

Their whole body almost shook with their abject refusal, one hand holding up a finger begging him to just wait. They needed a moment to find the key for the locked door their voice had fled behind. He let out an almost exasperated sigh, his shoulders jumping with the breath before his hands were perched back on his hips.

“Well, what do you want then?” He was almost whining now, pouting at them. “I’m very flexible, I’ll have you know. Whatever you desire, I’m sure I can manage it.”

“Stop.”Their voice was so small, barely above a whisper as they trembled. “I want you to stop.”

And he did. He froze for a moment, blinking in the morning light, mouth slightly agape before the gears began to turn once more. He held his hands up this time, taking a step back and dipping his head towards them. “Of course, pet. Whatever you want.”

Still, still, it struck them as wrong. They screwed their eyes shut, forcing out long, agonizingly slow breaths. They brushed their hands over their face, tangling their fingers in their hair before letting out a last lengthy exhale. They were still trembling, but their eyes were firm as they opened and fixed on him.

“I didn’t mean,” they started slowly, voice shivering, “to make you think I wanted that. I…” And they trailed off as a wall went up in him, a cold wave washing through them. “I’m not like other people when it comes to this. I’m not- not disinterested, I just…” They floundered, a hand churning the air. “People usually are interested so fast in each other, right? Love at first sight and bodies aflame for each other. I don’t… I don’t experience that. Not like others. It’s…” They pulled in a gulping breath, eyes skittering to the ground so they wouldn’t have to see his expression morph like all the others. “I don’t fall like that. I’m- I’m slower. I need more time. I need to know you better before…” Their voice failed, bitter memories bubbling up and they blinked stinging eyes. “People don’t like waiting, usually, on a maybe. I understand if you’re upset-”

They jumped as his hand was back on their cheek, startled at how quickly and silently he was back in front of them. “It doesn’t have to be love.” He murmured. “It can just be physical, if you want.” He was cradling their head in both his hands, holding their gaze up to his. He was leaning down again and they shook. “Let me take care of you, repay you.”

Their hands shot back up to his chest, pushing sharply as they pulled their face away. Realization shot through them like they were a tree in a lightning storm. Things started to fall into place, his words and tone suddenly making sense. Repay you. The performance, the words, the touches, they were meant as a transaction. What in the world was he hoping to buy from them? What made him feel like he owed them? He was scandalized again, this time anger showing true on his face, but there was a desperation in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” they babbled instantly, so, so scared he would leave, “I’m sorry, Astarion. I…” They were lost in his hurt gaze, struggling to find land in the roiling ocean. They swallowed thickly, blinking away tears. “You don’t have to repay anything. I’ve done nothing…” They faltered, a hazy memory of a night, days prior, coming back. This is a gift. It was like a floodgate opened in them, their words coming too fast, too numerous. “Oh, Astarion, no. No, no, no, it’s not- you don’t have to do anything- I gave my blood freely!”

“Nothing is free.” His words came out sharp like a dagger, cutting, before he softened. He almost crooned. “It’s easier like this, isn’t it? I promise, you’ll have a night you’ll never forget.”

“Will you forget it, then?” The question fell unbidden from their lips, regret causing their hand to cover their mouth instantly. A strange look came over him and they were back to apologizing on loop. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I-,” they paused, taking a breath to try and silence their thundering heart, “I don’t want you doing something you don’t want because you feel you owe me. I’ll always let you have my blood, even if you never speak to me again after this. You’re a dear friend to me and I want to help. Honestly, I just like having you around so if you need to pay me back somehow, then can you just… stay?”

“Stay?” He echoed, a curious grin pulling at his mouth. “What do you mean? At your side or in camp, or-”

“Just stay, here, in general. Don’t disappear one day and never come back. Don’t- don’t go so far into yourself that you never return.” They almost hiccuped in the next breath, a bitterness spilling free in their chest. “Don’t just nod along and then abandon me. Don’t leave me alone. Please.”

His head tilted to the side, faint confusion in his eyes. “And that’s what you want?”

They nodded mutely, hands clenching and unclenching at their side. “A-and maybe, later, in the future, if I decide I do want you like that, that I want more, then we can… if you also want it. If you’re okay with maybe.”

He stood in silence, eyes drifting from head to toe of them before he let out a dramatic sigh, shrugging. “Then I suppose I am yours in maybe.” The playful charm was quick to return to his eyes, his grin flashing fangs. “But I will not be relenting in my attempts to charm you into a memorable night. You’re too much fun.”

A nervous laugh bubbled in their throat, gaze falling to the ground out of embarrassment. “Now that I know of your interest, that… that’ll change my reaction.” And they scrubbed a hand over their face as he laughed in pure delight at their flustered reaction. “And, if drinking my blood makes you feel… like you owe me, then, I don’t know… Maybe we can find another way to sate you that isn’t so guilt ridden?”

This time his laugh was all breath, rumbling deep in his chest. “I think you will find I am very hard to sate, pet.” They couldn’t help the blush his tone caused and his grin was wolfish. “But, if you aren’t too squeamish, I could simply take a bite out of the next vagabond that draws their weapon on us. They’re dead either way.”

They weren’t especially keen to see just how vicious a vampire bite could be, but it was a good fix. Plus the party wouldn’t be so mad at him for using them as a snack. They bobbed their head. “That should work. But!” Their hand shot out to catch his sleeve, tugging slightly. “But, if you can’t get to someone in a fight, then you can still ask me. I don’t want you to go hungry. We can figure out ‘payments’ beforehand if you want. I just…”

He crooked a hand under their chin, his other wrapping around to the small of their back and pulling them snug to his chest. “Darling, you don’t have to say. I know you enjoy getting bitten. You were shaking so adorably last night it was hard not to notice.” He tilted their head to the side before ghosting a kiss to their neck, just above the bandage. “I may sneak a nibble from time to time, if you permit. You are simply too delectable to ignore.”

They let out a nervous laugh, gently pushing him away. “Okay, but does it always have to be the neck? This thing is itchy.”

His hand traced down their throat, fingers dancing along their pulse. “You could always just let the world know you’re mine.” They flapped a hand at the contact, shivering, and he let his hand drop to theirs. He pressed their palm to his cheek, placing a kiss on their wrist. “But yes, I could bite elsewhere. There are more discreet places, even, if you take me up on my offer.”

“Oh gods, you’re terrible.” Their free hand was trembling at their temple as they tried to look everywhere but at the vampire’s eyes. “I trust you won’t take advantage of me?”

He paused, brow furrowing for a second before the emotion was smoothed away. “Only in the ways you let me.” He let their hand fall free, smirking still. “Only as you want.”

They huffed at him, shaking their head. “You know what I want right now?” He didn’t answer, his eyes simply narrowing slightly, waiting. “Breakfast. I can smell it cooking. And since you already ate… whatever you found today, you can’t fault me for wanting my own meal.”

The usual taunting smile was back on his lips as he turned back towards camp, an arm crooked invitingly to them. “A stray wolf, separated from its pack and too close to the camp, considering how useless their presence makes our resident cleric. I elected to remove the problem before everyone woke up to her screaming.”

“And then you picked a fight with her and woke Karlach up anyways.” They sighed, taking his arm.

“Hm, well, she was being very rude and it’s fun to needle her.” He hummed, eyes crinkling with his amusement.

“So you do care, just a little, what they think of you.” 

“Just a little.” He conceded before a wicked grin spread across his face. “And if you tell anyone that, I’ll start revealing every little bite I give you.”

They let out a strangled whine and banged a fist weakly against his arm as he laughed, letting him lead them back to the fire where their companions were starting to settle down for a proper meal together.

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

could you explain your writing process a bit? i adore your fics, like everytime ive tried writing smut (or mostly any fic, oc writing seems to be more my forte) ive struggled a lot with staying motivated or staying focused. your fics are so interesting and complex character-wise despite centering around sex or sexual acts. id love to just hear you explain your full process, any struggles youve had with writing in the past, any advice, or anything else really. thank you and have a good one!

oh wow yeah okay sure, i can do that! pretentious soliloquizing ahead. i will talk about sexual preferences. mine, specifically. sorry. and thanks :]

writing smut is two things to me, and which of those things takes priority just kinda depends on the day or my mood. first, it's stuff that i personally find hot and enjoy thinking about/jerking off to, plain and simple. secondly, i see smut as a vehicle for character development or interaction, as a vector through which i can express facets of a character that can't really be demonstrated in other scenarios/are best expressed through sex. i'm a literary analyst first and a writer second, so i approach it from a character-driven lens rather than something scenario-driven.

light yagami, for example, is a control freak who likes dominating others but is repulsed by people who cave too fast (misa, mikami). what gets his blood pumping are people who challenge his dominance and he gets really flustered when control is taken from him (see: the Lind L Taylor breakdown). from this, i extrapolate that he would get a kick out of being forced to submit sexually, and would find it both humiliating and arousing; these are all things that spring from his character but also things i personally find hot.

from there, i'd think about what kinks or scenarios could force this kind of submission out of him and make for an interesting dialogue. again, as an example, a noncon scenario where L practically jumps him might be something i'd consider. a plot to justify this scenario spirals from there.

writing smut is really fucking hard, by the way, so don't beat yourself up about it. the fic i publish these days is hugely informed by a ridiculous amount of practice and purposefully pushing myself out of my comfort zone. i find that writing and posting some smut, then looking back on it and analyzing it with a fresh eye sometime later, can help me sus out where i want to improve and what i'm currently doing fine with. writing for me is both a fun hobby and also an exercise to become a better writer, though that is not the kind of grind everyone wants, and that's totally fine.

as far as advice goes for smut writing: write what makes your dick hard. i am so serious here. being extremely horny about [insert scenario] is the secret to getting your ass in the chair and writing. i too will get extremely distracted midway through a porn scene so i will just pause writing it, go do something else/write something else, and then come back to finish the fucking. it's really about following what makes your brain light up in sparklers and explosions.

like. you know what i love? blowjobs!!! i love !! blowjobs!! i inflict this on light yagami and the blowjob smut just pours out of me. it's magic.

it is very, very hard to write porn about kinks/scenarios i'm not personally excited about. this is because writing porn is ridiculously hard. i'm walking a wire's edge of "keep this in character or at the very least, somehow justify this out of character action within the narrative" and "make sure the scene is sexy" and "make sure the mechanics of everything make sense and that they haven't switched sex positions impossibly while i wasn't looking." it's a lot to juggle! i struggle to write the scenes all in one go.

a couple of times i've had to write a commission for kinks/scenarios i'm not personally interested in and whew, those were tricky. i have to do more mental gymnastics to get myself in the headspace of someone who would enjoy those kinks. for example, i'm not hugely into toys. i was paid to write a fic that centered around a vibrator once. i had to sit there, delude myself into a headspace where i thought vibrators were hot, and then write as fast as i could before the headspace vanished. this is where the analysis brain helps because instead of me personally being horny about a scenario, i'm looking at it through the lens of someone who would be.

i also do a lot of field research. this means anything from sucking and fucking (god bless my partner, who is about as adventurous as i am and usually down to field test scenarios for me) or going to kink fairs to watch demos of things i am personally not about to try (recently saw some fantastic shibari suspension scenes that i will be stealing, thanks). more than anything, talking to people helps. the "yes, and..." of spitballing with other folks about a horny scenario really helps the writing juices start flowing. i cannot emphasize how much easier it makes writing porn to have someone you can hit up like okay, i have this idea, what else can i do to make it sexy?

so i'd say, anon, my best advice for you is to figure out what really gets you going and then just. roll with that. stare at a character and try to think about if they'd like the kinks you like. extrapolate from there, and talk to as many fellow freaks as you can find. sit down and just write something that you find personally very exciting. and just keep doing it. my first pornfic was from 2021 and quite frankly it is bad. i've started (but not finished) a hundred other porny scenarios that i just didn't have the energy to complete. but for every thirty half-baked thoughts about penis i have at least one that i can get so manic over i end up finishing it.

let me know if you have any other questions, and i hoped this helped T-T explicit scenes are genuinely the most difficult thing i write these days, but they're also....lowkey some of the most fun...so i hope you got some use out of this :]

[curry-and-gunpowder]

Okay so I have some stuff to get off my chest, might get a bit heated, but I mean no disrespect to anyone, just expressing my genuine confusion and frustration and trying to make my stance on some matters clear.

Clearly I ship Odazai. But that does not mean I reject other interpretations of their relationship. Be it platonic, queerplatonic, brotherly, it's all lovely to me - I genuinely just enjoy their unique dynamic.

However, I am constantly on the brink of losing it over hearing them referred to as a father/son pair by so many people in the fandom. And I'm gonna attempt to break down why this interpretation bothers me so much.

Firstly, it just flies in the face of my personal experience of intergenerational friendships - I'm a young-ish Millennial with many Gen Z friends. And I find it completely incomprehensible to try and force people who are relatively close in age into such a dynamic. I'm aware that a lot of bsd fans are teens or young adults who maybe don't have much social contact with people outside their age range. But as a 30+ person on the Internet, let me tell you, five years? That's nothing. The plain truth is, the older you get, the less age starts to matter. Once you get out of school, you will interact with people of all ages regularly and you will have friends who are older or younger than you and nobody fucking cares. The thought of seeing any of my younger friends as my children is, pardon my french, fucking ridiculous.

Secondly, and I've spoken about this before, the fandom's tendency to parentify Odasaku way beyond what the text ever implies. It's easy to put him into the role, considering the way he cares for his orphans. In that way, he has some parental traits - but it's only a facet of his personality, and, i would argue, one that the fandom puts way too much emphasis on, imho. I'll gladly write some more meta on that at a later time, but doing that here would make the post even longer than it already is. Just to quickly reiterate, for anyone who hasn't read the dark era lightnovel - Oda does explicitly NOT treat the kids like his children. Why then would he treat Dazai like one? Dazai, whom he explicitly invites to go drinking with him in TDIPUD? How does that track? Is he supposed to be just a shitty parent? Or could it maybe indicate that he sees Dazai as his equal more than anything?

(Tangentially, I would argue that Oda's perception of what constitutes a child/an adult is horrendously skewed, considering his own past.)

Thirdly, and this is probably gonna be the one that might get me into hot water with some people, the thing I like to call the Cope. The tendency in fandom to manifest a hard line between groups of characters that somehow should never be crossed when shipping, otherwise that makes the ship badwrongtoxic. This is a phenomenon I've observed developing more and more in recent years, and it's ngl pretty worrying, because it's generally used to present one's own ship as "superior", and all "rival ships" as less than/bad. Ships with "significant" age gaps tend to fall into that category relatively often, but I suspect very few people actually genuinely care about the characters' ages, but rather use it as a shield to justify why these relationships are To Be Avoided. Odazai is an absolute stellar example of such a ship - by all means it should be way more popular than it is, considering the themes that surround it and the way its absolutely center to the nareative of bsd. But without fail, when I look up media for the ship, be it YouTube videos or simply browsing the tag on tumblr or pinterest, I see the same mantra repeated over and over - "how can you ship them, they're like father and son!"

(I'm concerned about the relationship you have with your parents, I say to myself in response.)

And its, quite frankly, just not the case. I cannot for the life of me find any indication of this so-called parental relationship anywhere in the text. All I can see is two people who are friends who have a deep and sincere love for each other.

In conclusion, not every relationship has to fall into the category of familial or romantic. Sometimes... people are just friends. Sometimes friends are some years apart in age. It's not shocking or special or anything, it literally happens all the time.

Just let them be friends. It's fine, really, it's allowed.

[purlturtle]

One of the hardest thing for me all throughout my life has been the fact that my parents still don't trust I could be doing all right for myself. That my life, different though it is from their lives, and from their vision they had for my life, is a fulfilled and happy and working one.

I am forty-four years of age. I have lived on my own for twenty-five of those years: longer than I have lived under my parents' roof.

And yet!

And yet.

And yet it would seem that they see me as a head-in-the-clouds dreamer incapable of navigating this world, constantly in cloud cuckoo land, squawking helplessly (apparently) at such things as taxes or car insurance or, I don't know, cooking without burning the kitchen down or something.

I have been living in this world for forty-four years; twenty-five of them on my own.

They have never had to bail me out of jail, drive to where I live to pick me up crying on someone's doorstep, spot me money so I can pay rent, none of that. I have never once moved back home or even entertained the idea. (Not that there is anything wrong with any of the aforementioned - I, personally, don't think of these things as failures. I know my parents do though.) Never once have I needed them in such a way that it could hypothetically theoretically potentially play into their idea of me being someone who doesn't have her life together.

And yet!

And yet.

And yet I feel so keenly their dismissal of my adultness, of my being capable the way I am. So many things that are so important to me, are taken by them as a sign that I'm childish. So many markers that they put so much importance on of adulthood: car ownership. House ownership. Children of my own. - some I will never check off on, some I passed too late (whoever heard of owning your first car at 38!), some I very vocally dismiss as a marker of adulthood in the first place.

This hasn't gotten any better (heavy sarcasm) since I developed mental health problems. Why only today, in a phone call with my mom, I had to justify my use of social media to her (since of course all of social media is universally bad, and the fact that I "spend so much time glued to your phone" is a dire sign of my impending insanity (more heavy sarcasm)), AND list all of the things that I do to relax to make up for being stressed out of my wits due to my hypersensitivity. And thank GOD I listed knitting among them, "at least that's being creative" - thank you Mom, for your approval; I needed it so badly. (heaviest sarcasm yet)

I mean in a way I get it; she doesn't see me day to day, she doesn't know that I *have* arranged my life in such a way that I'm mostly okay. But the thing is: I have told her. I have told her, and I am not being believed. Because I couldn't possibly know best what I need. Like, even my consumption of food - I tell her that one of my strategies is making sure that I get enough food so that I don't fall into a blood sugar hellhole, and the first thing she worries about is whether or not the food that I eat is healthy food. Fuck, Mom, sometimes all that helps is chocolate and ice cream!!

And this conflating of "we're worried about you" and "we still don't trust that you know what you're doing, so tell me in precise detail what you're doing so that I can judge if youre doing it right (based on my incomplete knowledge of you and of being HSP)" is....... tiresome. Especially when their causes for worry are based on their headcanons, basically; hypotheses and images in their own minds, based on when we see each other twice a year, usually not at my best, because (who would have thought it?!) being around my parents is fucking stressful to me!

So earlier this month we had such a visit, and it went badly, and a few days after I got home, my mom and I talk about the visit and I tell her, in very plain and coarse language so that she'll fucking hear me, how fucking badly it went - and the next thing I know is I get a phone call from my DAD (in itself only a thing that happens in dire needs), saying that I made my mother cry, telling me with tears in his own voice that I need help, that they think I need help (i.e. therapy), basically staging an intervention based on the abovementioned hypotheses and images, and not even talking to me or asking me any background for proving or disproving their theses.

When I do not need therapy, I've worked with therapists and coaches before, I am the clearest on my needs and accommodations that I've been *in my life* - I just need my parents to accept those needs and accommodations, and to trust that I have things handled, and to damn well consult me first before they think that their precious little baby girl is out there in the world not knowing how to deal.

I've been managing myself even when I still lived with you, you numbskulls. Moving out was the best decision of my LIFE (and arguably saved it)!

God, I am so angry. I am SO angry. I can't handle well being treated dismissively at the best of times, and their dismissal is CONSTANT, and they don't even realize it. I told my mother, in today's phone call, several times that she could trust me when I say that my social media usage isn't detrimental, when I say that I have my life arranged in such a way that most days I'm okay, that I have a grip on things. And she said "well all right then, if you say so" and oh the humoring was audible and I am so furiously, incandescently angry.

And the thing is, I cannot have this conversation with them.

Not on my own, anyway.

Oh how I *wish* that there was a way in which I could sit them down, sit down myself, and then look at a family therapist or someone like that, who will then moderate that conversation so that I can be *part* of the conversation, and not also its moderator. Because that is what I'd try to be, if I sat them down with only myself, and that would NOT work out. As it is, every time I talk with them, I walk on eggshells, I constantly watch myself and them, I check everything I say to make sure I'm communicating clearly and factually and in I-messages and that whole-ass shit, and it is such a high demand on my brain that it leaves me shaking with the effort, ten minutes in. (Not because I'm afraid they'd get abusive. Don't worry. It's never been that, neither in word nor in deed. It's just the constant dismissal, which won't be helped if I have an emotional meltdown.) Still, it's an amount of managing them and their emotions that is not fair to put on my shoulders alone, but as the person that I am, that is where I'd put it, because I don't know how to have that conversation in other ways (curse of being a social worker...).

If you've read all the way to here, thank you. I appreciate you.

[thatfrenchacademic]

Finally finished Yellowface, and I have thoughts -overwhelmingly positive ones- but the main takeway is that... it was not what I expected?

I expected to satire, hate-able MC and satisfying ending that I can close and go "AH ! That's what you get!". And as far as I can see, it seems that this is how the book was experienced by most people?

But I found it way more nuanced than that. Not that I am surprised RF Kuang can write nuance -hell, that's really what she *does*, writing nuanced characters and morally grey plots- but I didn't expect it from this particular book. And yet.

Spoiler under the but - this is not a review, just some thoughts I had about it.

The MC is, indeed, a terrible person. But she is the particularly ordinary brand of terrible. She is not an evil genius, she is not a self-aware mastermind, and we know that because we are in her head. I personally started hating her, but somehow, at some point, it switch to pitying her. I found her pitiful. Perhaps because she is not happy. It's easier to be angry at a terrible person when they are happy ; but June spends most of the book drowning in pettiness, in insecurity, in broken dreams, anxiety and depression. And RF Kuang makes sure that it does not justify any of her decisions whatsoever, and that we know she is still a terrible person. So I both condemned her and pitied her.

The publishing environment described did not feel like satire, because I feel it hits too close to reality for this. The rat race, the twitter obsession, the tokenization of minorities, the marketisation of marginalisation... That's really not satire, that's just plain reality. It's too real to make me laugh, even bitterly - and instead it made me plain sad. You wonder what you can do, as a reader.

And the most terrible thing - in the best way- is that we will never know who Athena was. As I am writing, I am realizing that the whole book revolves around this - Athena's voice being silenced. In the story, this is through June's actions of course ; but in the very structure of the book, it's through us knowing Athena only through second hand accounts. How June describes her, how her ex describes her, how Candice describes her, how her mother describes her... We get different accounts, different descriptions, but we will never know what kind of person she was. And how she felt about her own identity, her own story, her how image. At the end of the story, you can make a case for her genuinely being a wonderful person or an absolute asshole. And like most people, she probably falls somewhere in the middle. There is more to her story that we ever know, but we don't know what this more is.

Narratively, it doesn't matter - her being a good person or not does not affect June being rotten. But as far as the thesis of the book goes, I found it quite powerful - and forcing myself to confront : why do I even want to know ? Why do I care, if she was a good person or not ? June is rotten regardless. I think it calls out or need to have clear narrative to make sense of things, we need the good person and the bad person - but once again, RF Kuang shows that this is not what it's about : we need to find a sense of right and wrong, even when there is no 100% good person and 100% bad person to be found - because that's not how life it, but we still need to find a moral compass to navigate it.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Two friends.

Fell and Lust discover they had similar inner demons, and make progress working through them tonight.

This is entirely platonic.

[TW! Implied SA, implied CSA, internalized victim blaming, swearing, smoking!]

Fell and Lust were both sprawled out on opposite ends up the couch. Lust had dried tears on his face and Fell had a cigarette in his mouth, smoke gently swirled in the air.

"...So you... were... also..." Lust's voice was so tired, exhaustion took him over as Fell gave a gruff 'mhm'.

"...Damn, I-I thought it was bad on my end... but you were a kid?" Fell replied, glancing over to the skeleton on purple, who shrugged.

"Too be fair... atleast I've acknowledged I didn't... particularly do anything to deserve that..." Lust have a soft glare at Fell, not an angry one, but one that said 'I know you're denying it was as bad as it was.'

Damn, he really is good at even reading his own expression.

"No shit, you were a kid." The one in red decided on, leaning back into the couch.

"...And you were still a victim. Red." He sighed. "Being an afult... doesn't make it any better."

"Maybe," Red huffed. "But bein' below double digits makes it worse."

There was a short silence, followed by Lust going, "Red, you were still a victim.. I-I don't think we should be playing who got it worse..."

"Heh, still wanna find the bastard who did that to ya." He spoke with a grim chuckle, passing another tissue over to Lust.

As Lust reaches out for it, instead he gently took Fell's hand, getting his attention on him finally. "The hell?-" He muttered.

"It's not your fault."

Lust spoke with a gentle tone, it was a caring one. And yet Fell just gave a weird look to him, "I know?"

"No, Fell." A bit sterner. "It is not your fault. You are not to blame for it."

Fell pulled his hand back, looking down at it. "...I know that, damn.."

Lust frowned. "...Do you?" He finally took that tissue, wiping old makeup and fresh tears alike, voice edging on cracking. "Do you think that.. even if it isn't your fault it happened, y-you think you're still to blame for not stopping it?"

Fell sputtered, "Where the hell did that come from?"

Lust went quiet, "...Your expression, I suppose."

A pang of worry, and near guilt—Oh, and mild agitation shot into fell. "Is that where all that came from?"

Lust shrugged, adjusting to sit on the couch with his knees held up to his chest. "...I don't think you're to blame for anything of that degree."

"Do you think you are though?" He tucked a hand in his pocket, other fidgeting with getting the cigarette into a half way filled can of water.

"I... think you and I are blaming ourselves for different things relating to what happened." Lust eventually verbalized, voice growing sadder, as Fell frowned.

"...Alright, c'mere." He awkwardly opened one arm, much to the surprise of Lust. Though after a quick dumbfounded stare, he found himself crawling right up againest Fell.

"...I think you right pal, I think there's shit I should've done to stop it. And I think I still don't understand how the hell you could manage to blame a kid, even if it's yer'self." There was a drawn out pause, as he wrapped an arm around Lust's shoulder. "But I think I see where yer going with the 'ain't my fault' thing."

Lust made a small whine, "...Is it bad to blame myself?" He whispered out

Fell would've raised an eyebrow if he had any, but he didn't. "Morally, or just plain bad for you?"

"Morally." Lust mumbled. And now Fell just realized he can't just shit talk himself and then justify Lust... damn, he's being forced to allow himself some slack.

"Nah, definitely gonna wreck your mental health—But blamin' yourself ain't the same thing as blamin' someone else." Lust sighed, nodding.

"...Do you understand that too?"

Fell sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Guess so? Ya kinda backed me into 'yer damn self love corner." He said with a chuckle, and that got Lust to laugh as well.

"O-Oh dear, we are far from self love..." He giggled, and had a sad smile... "...But I... would like to get there."

Fell paused, "..Ya, me too."

[Authors note! Might extend this if I post on a03!]

[iantimony]

bet you thought tuesdaypost was cancelled!

psych! we're back to shabbosposting, for a number of reasons:

if i call it shabbosposting i can post it on friday OR saturday. two days worth of possibility

i got too much damn stuff to do on most tuesdays to justify sitting down and writing a weekly roundup post. by friday my brain is sufficiently sludge enough that i really don't lose anything by spending 90 minutes doing this instead

and so:

listening: we BACK on the synthtober grind!!! also been listening to my horn concerto playlist to try and trick myself into practicing them again.

i'll be done with road to partizan by the end of the weekend, i think - i have about 15 minutes left of episode 9! i've been really really enjoying these mini games, more in the sense of letting them wash over me.

reading: oh this is gonna be a beefy one. i have read. a lot of (mostly explicit) fanfic. if living can be this (leosbunny & Lise) yeah i read the. whole thing. all ~180k words in. . . [checks ao3 history] two days <3 specifically last friday and saturday. oops! the devil finds work for (Fahye) my friend went to a wedding and met this author there! i was like oh i've never heard of this person. friend said "fahye has written one million things for every fandom" and boy howdy is that true! so i read this the man from uncle (film) fic, very nostalgic, i do love that movie. i also read all of fahye's MDZS works. fun aus! mostly wwx/lwj with a smattering of lxc/jgy. watching: fallow this week. some evan and katelyn on youtube i guess?

making: almost done with my laptop case! i also finally have mentally committed to redoing the stupid straps on the tank top i may never wear because it's a little tight on me. :( no photos yet but some stuff came out of the kiln to be glazed which is very exciting! i also made a little 6-well watercolor mixing palette, just gonnna glaze it plain white and hopefully get some good use out of it!

misc: halloweekend........i don't have a costume yet :") probably just going to nebulously be a witch, i guess? i really didn't have time to put together something fun this year...my roommate is being elegant mothman for a costume wedding she's going to next week which i will definitely steal for a future halloween. but for this year. blah. just wasn't really inspired by anything. a group of people are going to to various local halloween events downtown both tonight AND tomorrow and frankly i do not have that kind of energy! i will probably go out tomorrow night but tonight i might just play magic the gathering :x

[reinedescauchemars]

self-portrait of the author as odysseus

there is someone who has to go, who is compelled to leave by something greater, something perhaps divine, perhaps merely mortal, and there is someone they have to leave behind, saying "i'll be back soon, love, i promise" and everyone realizes not too long after that was a promise that could not be kept

there is someone who tries to return, who at first thinks there's better things to be found but soon discovers that, at the end of the day, all that's wanted is rest, and then again, that all that's longed for is the sweetness of rest in the arms of a lover, and there is someone who waits as the weeks turn into months and again into years

do you think odysseus loves penelope? is that why he leaves circe?

yes, i do, because i love her, and what is the point of stories if not to see yourself in other people? i see myself in the eyes of the coward-hero, who was never a good man, always lost when not at war, loved by wit but far too bold, and i love her, no matter how far away i am, no matter if another lies at my bosom, no matter how long i stay away

i think why he stayed so long with circe was to rest. he had been fighting for entirely too long, some of it his fault, because what is a warrior-king who has fought for ten long years to do when at last the fighting stops? of course, he fights again, he wants to live on in glory, his name a synonym for bravery, and here is a fight all to easy to win, gifted to him by his gods, and he wins and he can stay and he doesn't need to fight, he can stay in paradise. he can rest. he must go on, but in that peaceful moment, he can stay. rest makes you forget it all: if i could, i would stop to rest too

do we think we can trust his retelling of his own story?

no, i don't, because his survival depends on lying, and when you lie to live, you begin to lie all the time. we do not know what really happened to his men, but if that was the version that made him look good, imagine just how bad reality was

he is an absent king who could have come back sooner, he has left his wife and lost his men, his son is a grown man he has never met. he is only recognized by his dying dog. he can only justify this in tricks and lies; those falsehoods and deceits that kept him alive when in the depths of polyphemus's cave are his salvation and his undoing. why trust a liar?

those of us who are too well-accustomed to deceit know there are many different kinds of lies; some lies are told of malice and some of kindness, and when odysseus lies out of kindness, he is aiming to protect those he could not protect before. when he lies out of malice, well, he's just being an asshole, but overwhelmingly he doesn't lie to be cruel. he lies to be kind

we may not be able to trust him entirely, but we can still understand why he lies. if you extend him this compassion, then you can extend it to the rest of us who grew up knowing that each breath we took would be expelled into a fiction. such was the cost of our survival

would odysseus be a modern hero?

we all know we'd say no. he is too mean, too brutal, too sly, too naughty, too unfaithful to join the pantheon of modern heroes. he's a jerk, plain and simple, but he's also a complicated man. how does his story begin? the poet sings and asks the muses to sing through him the tale of someone polytropos, a word translated across time and place in many different ways

but look at the complications, the nuance, look at what we call complicated people these days. i know because i've heard it all. i scare people when they watch me switch between a version of me who has known only kindness and only knows how to help and their counterpart, the part of me that's known only hate and spews rage wherever they walk

unlike odysseus, this anger and spite doesn't have a concrete body count. but where his anger is praised, his murders are justified, mine renders me bad, wrong, something to be fixed. love redeems him but it won't redeem me. i don't rage to save my love from harm, i rage to save what's left of a broken life. does this difference matter? i think not. does it matter that he's a man and i am not? i think not, i think it matters that a greek hero isn't always a good person, but our modern heroes, they have to be good

and when you're not good what's left for you?

the backstory of a b-movie villain

watch him thread the arrow through the eyes of the axes, watch him slaughter his enemies in cold blood, and watch how you sanitize his story to call him a hero. you wouldn't do the same for me, why do it for him? why not just admit that times have changed?

erase all the shit he's done and it's a simple story: local man wronged by gods, gets stuck in a twenty-year time vortex, emerges alone and has to kick those foolish youth out of his home. erase all the shit and you've got a simple hero, put in all the shit he's done and you've got someone who can't be simplified, someone who does good and bad and knows it

there is someone who makes mistakes and has to make amends, there is someone who has to take matters into their own hands to be respected again, there is someone who has lost things that can't be regained

who's this about now? you or odysseus?

yes

[naruthandir]

I think the reason I like Melkor so much is because out of all the characters in Tolkien's world it's of the ones I connect to the most, that I have the most sympathy for.

(long post under the cut. nothing triggering I don't think, just a lot of words and pseudo-phylosophic rambling about order and chaos and nature and such)

From the beginning, I saw something of myself on the way he rebelled against Eru, who is pretty much a parental to him. He was not malicious in his attempts to create a melody of his own, and yet Ilúvatar ruthlessly shut him down, which in turn made Melkor bitter and contrarian. This was something I struggled with a lot growing up as an autistic child with ADHD: impulsiveness, clumsyness and lack of social awareness were severely punished, for reasons that were never explained to me. There was much talk about the importance of "respect", but I when I asked for a definition of that word no one was able to give it to me. I ended up believing that "respect" was synonymous with "compliance", and I grew to resent pretty much all authority figures around me as a result.

To me, Melkor represents the resentment one develops after trying the very best to be good and yet failing, time and time again, until you just lean into your role as a villain. "If evil the only thing I'm good at then why even try to be good? If everything I do is wrong why try to make things right?" And then you become a ball of pure hatred, towards the world and towards yourself, towards those who hurt you and those who love you.

Like. I just feel like Melkor is terribly unhappy. There is not one bit on joy in his life, the closest he gets is that rush of superiority you get from winning a fight, from bullying and tearing things apart and just the general gratification of being an asshole. But that isn't happiness. That's an unhealthy coping mechanism that leaves you feeling miserable every time.

Melkor is evil. I am not implying that he is not. But he is evil in that way Tolkien villains are so often evil: in a pathetic, genuinely pitiful way. And for me, also in an oddly relatable way. The actions of Melkor are by no way justified, they wouldn't be justified if he had the saddest backstory ever. That's not how it works. But I do think they were necessary, in a very strange way. Allow me to explain myself:

Nothing is perfect. We know this, that is just the way of things. Trying to change that, while understandable and oftentimes done with noble intent, is another sort of evil entirely (see: Mairon). And I think Melkor is just as much a part of the natural world as the rest of the Valar are. Eru created Melkor, after all, out of his own though, and it is said none of the Ainur can truly escape or contradict his will. That's entropy, baby: the universal constant that will kill the stars and that allows life all at the same time.

(note: entropy is often defined as a "tendency towards chaos", however this is a gross simplification of what it actually is. You could just as easily call it a "tendency towards equilibrium" and it'd be just as accurate, if not more. Truth is, this is a very complex concept physicist are still working to understand. And I am not a physicist. So don't ask any more questions.)

What I mean to say is that decay is a part of nature, and that seems to be a very relevant theme in Tolkien. And if a perfect God contains all possible attributes (we talked about this in phylosophy class) they must contain in their perfection evil and well. Flaws. And if the Ainur are just manifestations of different, often contradicting attributes of Eru, that means Melkor must be too.

I don't know exactly where I am going with this. Perhaps is just that I am a little annoyed, that people would call Morgoth (Or Sauron, for that matter) "plain villains", because thematically speaking they are very interesting, at least to me. I acknowledge there's a good bit of projection going on here, but really that's the only way I know of engaging with fiction and if Tolkien's words are worth anything, I do find this interpretation "applicable".

[licncourt]

I swear it's not for starting discourse or anything of the sort. But I'd love to hear your thoughts on the show now that the first season has ended (and we have a more global view of the first season) regarding the plot, the reveals at the end, the characterisation of our fang family, the themes etc. I find your book metas very interesting and what you shared so far has been well structured and refreshing.

thoughts on the finale?

Oof, apologies for the wait, but I think I've gathered myself sufficiently. Thank you so much for reading my rambling!! It's so flattering to know that people care about what I have to say! I'll throw out everything I can think of now, but I'll rb with more if I think of anything else later.

I also want to preface this by saying it really seems like we're missing a lot of context and plot developments from s2 that will affect everything we saw in s1 quite a bit, but I'm just going to take this season at face value for now.

I thought the costuming, SFX, and cinematography was wonderful in the finale. It made me sad that my enjoyment of the show has been so ruined because it was stunning and really scratched the period drama itch I'd been missing with the era change. Claudia in particular looked gorgeous and the gore was really fun and well executed.

Overall, I'm very disappointed in Lestat and Claudia's relationship portrayal/arc. Like I've mentioned before, the tragic impact of Claudia's attack on Lestat is so lessened if they never had the bond of father and daughter in the first place. It rings so hollow when we never saw Lestat LOVE Claudia, adore her and want her with his whole soul before slowly succumbing to his own trauma and perpetuating the cycle of abuse. Book Lestat WANTS to fix things with his daughter, he trusts her without hesitation and that's what makes it so brutal when she quite literally stabs him in the back, but at the same time you feel her pain and her rage. We lose that in the show. They're just enemies, plain and simple. There's no agony of betrayal and broken family without love there first and it does both Lestat and Claudia, originally very complex characters, a disservice. Family, the good and the bad, is at the heart of IWTV and without Lestat and Claudia, that's largely lost.

The pacing of the episode was a bit strange to me. I felt like too much time was spent on the party planning aspect rather than the dissolution of the family dynamic and crescendo of tension. I get that they wanted a longer episode for the finale, but I don't think it justified that extra fifteen-ish minutes.

I think the fucky memory thing was better utilized in ep 7 than it has been up to this point, and given what we know of Armand's mind gift from the books, I think it would make a lot of sense that he had something to do with that. That would be my preference in general because otherwise I feel like we're delving into victim blaming territory with the implications of this take on an unreliable narrator. I thought the implementation of the whole concept was clunky, but this was the best moment it had.

The sort of tableaux of Louis slitting Lestat's throat and then the flashback of crying over his body was also fantastic, so striking and emotional. Again, Sam and Jacob are such good actors with great chemistry, so it's really a shame about the everything.

All my thoughts on ep 5 (and 6) stand. Nothing from the last episode changed my opinions on how that played out and I can't think of anything that would. I won't harp on my issues with the characterization that stem from these episodes, but they definitely carried over into the finale.

I liked the Armand reveal! I think it was fun how they dropped hints and Easter eggs for book fans all season in regards to his identity. Enrichment for the vampirefuckers. Assad definitely captures the Weird Little Guy energy but also the incredibly sinister overtones we expect from Armand. My only concern is that Armand will be treated the same way as Lestat and turned into a one-dimensional monster that they can never properly redeem. If they go the route of making him a new diabolical abuser for Louis who we're supposed to forgive, I'll chew glass.

NO SWAMPSTAT??? Honestly very disappointed. As funny as putting that bitch in the trash is, it doesn't hit the same as Lestat getting gnawed on by an alligator. Lord knows AMC Lestat deserves the death roll.

This is completely inconsequential, but I have to mention how forced that namedrop of Those Who Must Be Kept was. That was so clumsy and stupid that it made me laugh out loud in what was supposed to be a very tense moment.

The handling of the racial aspect of Louis' character was so good in the first four episodes and even in parts of the finale that it made eps 5 and 6 that much harder to swallow. I'm honestly baffled at how horrible and insensitive that was out of nowhere before everything went back to normal. I'm sad that was ruined before it could have its full impact. Louis and Jacob Anderson deserved better.

Daniel had a lot of great moments, but I feel like his dialogue was too obviously viewer insert and on the nose a lot of times. I also found myself soured to him after his comments about Claudia in ep 5. Still, he has good chemistry with Armand from what we saw and I'd like to see more of them together going forward.

[sl1tcl1t]

Life Update: Idk where else to write down my thoughts and experiences for almost the past year.

To get myself caught up with the last post I made from last year, it was my final year in HS and I never wanted to leave that rancid hél/hø\e so damn bad. I finally graduated and got into college. This freshman year is the absolute worst. On top of that, I couldn't get a dorm room, which is expected according to the hierarchy of classmen. But anyway, this year's schedule has been extraordinarily harmful to my physical and mentally. Since I don't have a dorm, I gotta commute to my classes every single day. In my case, I must drive all the way from the south to the city (1hr 30min on avg.) This is not a bad drive, unless u wanna beat the I-75/I-85 9 - 5 traffic. Which ALSO MEANS I gotta wake up at 4:00 am and leave the house by 5 if I want to arrive in time for my 8 and 10 am classes. Additionally, my last class during Mon,Weds, and Fri ends at 5pm. I don't get home till about 7. AND on top of all that, Tue and Thurs is when I work my part time shift. The latest my shift can end is at 7:30pm and it takes me at least 30 mins to get home. If I want to get the most sleep possible, I gotta be in bed by 9. My sleep schedule bc of this is incredibly fùçk3d up. Luckily, me and my friend made a little room for me to sleep in my car. Which is also another problem. Bc Im too damn sleep deprived, I oversleep multiple times and end up missing classes. Classes where I can't easily get a PowerPoint w/readily available info to write. I feel incredibly behind.

My mental and physical health has gotten progressively worse since I moved outta my mom's house. I really don't wanna get into grave detail abt my family, but TLDR; both parents are complexly problematic, but one's more flexible than the other. But, Jesus Christ Almighty, living with this man is insufferable. Nothing but complaining, guiltripping, nonchalant shaming, and being plain irritating. He brings a wave of negative energy anytime he enters a room. Granted, there are things that he complains about that are justified, but he's getting more and more senile everyday. So he just gets mad at anything now. It pisses me off but also makes me sad. Another thing is that work is overexerting my well-being whilst giving me such a low pay. For context, I work in a warehouse now. Lifting boxes every other day that are half the size of you will give you nausea. My feet have blisters and my hands are cramping. My calves burn, my entire arm is aching, and my head pounds harder than ever. My friend suggests that I might have burn out, and I believe it with every bone in my body. Working at a place that accepts newly hs grads, ofc there would be å$5h0lés my age and worse. The smell has gotten worse since I moved in w dad. He essentially lives in a white trash neighborhood, so the smell outside is horrendous. This smell has affected the inside of my house and now I reek. And the ppl at work love to remind me abt my smelly ass despite trying my hardest to mask it. I seriously cannot stand other day in there and hopefully I can get a new job this upcoming summer.

But apart from all this, the cherry on top of this shit show was today after work. I got off early and wanted to visit this little gravesite around in my area to take pics and upload on here. I chickened out. It's too damn dark for me to take any so I walked around, contemplating life per usual. I decided to go inside the convenience store. I asked if there were any sleeping pills/melatonin and the guy had asked a question that made my mind go blank,

"Are you homeless?"

Never in life would I hear those words issued to me, but if I'm gonna be completely honest, I live at my dad's house, not paying any bills or insurance (yet), I sleep in my car majority of the day, and I have the worst pay to labor ratio. So technically, Imma borderline broke ass freeloading bum. But anyway, I was even more in shock when he rang my items. I forgot my wallet in the car and told him I was going to run out n grab it, but he just gave me the bag with an empathetic, "it's okay". And now I feel like a piece of shit to completion. Bc in hindsight, Im not HOMELESS, but it damn sure feels like I am.

I can't believe Im turning into every person I've met in the workforce. Ppl who just live paycheck to paycheck and just let the days past by; not doing anything but working. I use to make fun of those ppl at my last job as a cashier while in HS, but seriously, I got the realest reality check of my life. I really cannot live a life like that for 30+ years if I can't figure something out by graduation. Else I'm better off with maggots in my eyes and my skin wilting in the ground.

I'm done ranting, I need some sleep.... GN and happy Halloween ✌🏽

[inksinger]

Finally, some decent pinned...

LINKS 👁👄👁

Find me on the Archive at Inksinger!

INFO - PERSONAL 🍑

Born in the early 90s

Pronouns: thu/thum/thu's | fae/faer/faen | she/her/hers

Bisexual, polyromantic, genderfluid/nonbinary

Married to @zofmoesia, my adoring spousevoid

Lokean hearth witch

Native to the northern end of California

I own too many cats and dogs

INFO - BLOG 🌸

Tolkien

World of Warcraft

FFXIV

Real life junk

Cat videos

Literally anything else I decide I want to post or reblog

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If there's anything you think I should add, let me know and I'll make sure to update this bad boy. Stay cool. ✨

[wisteriasonthemoon]

okay so I need to just. post weekly about my DRV3 replay to hold myself accountable to some progress otherwise it's going to take forever to get through it again

hello drv3 tag, I am doing a replay. I'm only through the prologue and just into chapter 1. some notable events thus far

the pre-prologue ... prologue? where the cast is their "pre-game" selves is such a bizarre choice of scene. I replayed it several times and I'm still unsure why it's there. the simple answer is that it exists only to cast doubt on Tsumugi's version of events in chapter 6, but that explanation doesn't quite satisfy me

the flashback lights were introduced. a device that can alter memories. with no clear rules or in-universe limitations. I don't recall an additive explanation on those points later. that's fine. I'm sure my memory of DRV3 is wrong and Kodaka didn't just blow up his setting like a teenager behind the wheel in an action movie car chase

Kokichi has been in 3 scenes so far. the only one in which he didn't directly contradict himself is in the pre-prologue. he had the opportunity! he had *2* lines! but they were both questions

oh and I got to sight-see around my new prison-school

I saw this dragon

Tsumugi and Kaede alleged it was floating. they in fact had this exchange

Tsumugi: Ah…that bronze dragon statue over there. I’m just plain curious about it. Tsumugi: It almost seems like it’s floating, right? Doesn’t it look pretty out of place? Kaede: Now that you mention it…you’re right. It sorta bothers me, too.

they did not elaborate. I have no idea what they mean. I walked around the thing to get a view from every conceivable angle. it doesn't appear to be floating - not between the dragon and it's slab, or the slab and the floor

sure, from certain angles, you could argue that between the slab and the floor, it KIND OF appears to be floating due to perspective and a lack of occlusion or cast shadow. but if I swivel a couple degrees there is a tree made of a flat texture with no shadow in a 3D space, so I'm not sure I'd make the argument that that is intentional

and I saw these stairs!

this pink pattern on first-to-second floor stairs resembles a temporary texture file. last I checked in with the game dev scene, because of how textures are added atop 3D models, it was practical to utilize a generic repeating pattern before doing any committal custom texture work for an object's final appearance. otherwise you might get unseemly tiling or seams

there are two other objects accessible within the prologue that have this pattern as well: the stairs to the basement and gate-style door between the main area of the first floor and the gym. so although you could, I personally wouldn't make the argument these are "un"intentional "missed" textures

filing this one under: 'devs wanted to give you the option to believe in virtual reality', 'possible pranks by in-universe Team Danganronpa', and 'one of the monokubs has really bizarre taste in wallpaper'

these cursed lockers are outside the gym

there is a double-stack of boys lockers and girls lockers to each side of the door. I say they're cursed because they're ... completely disorganized. they don't appear to be in any kind of sensible arrangement and WORSE. they don't even match the dormitory room assignment order

I think this fully justifies any murder committed by housekeeping tbh

also these photos!

there is a whole series of these babies in the prologue's opened areas. there are 18 total. 12 of them being in 4 sets of 3 down the hallway to the left after coming down the stairs from the second floor. these appear to be actual photos with some filters thrown on top

they are hard to make out, but they appear to be nondescript fields, mountains, seas and buildings. considering them all together makes me think of an island, but beyond that, I'm unsure of their purpose

I like these ones adjacent to Kaede's ultimate research lab. doesn't the one to the right look like a smug little creature

(≖ᴗ≖ ✿)

speaking of islands

if it's been a while since you've played DRV3, you may not remember that the school was still being built during the prologue by Monokuma and the monokubs. these steel boxes appear to be storage containers for the construction

they evoke both an outer-space and nautical theme with the pressure gauges and handles that resemble ship helms

and speaking of building the school

in the prologue, arguably the third and fourth floors are not yet constructed and absolutely the clock tower is non-existent

the clock tower where, y'know, Kaito's lab was located and everyone burst out of cryogenic chambers or something to start their new life in space. according to sources. sources in chapter 5

I don't think there is a single clock, person, or mechanical bear-shaped entity in this game that is tracking time correctly

and. uh. this??? th s

I'm pretty sure this door opens up in chapter 5 to Kaito's lab, but the more I gaze upon its' visage. the more I. the more I just

?????

??????????

[aidsyouinthinking]

Words: glamorization of the edge/fringe- the unseen

I don't particularly like making a "show of it"; deriving humor from my misery: spinning yarn into beguiling tapestry too true, especially when it's crass or unwitting. Though I do still do it, and often with little thought. It catches me, an ethereal turn of phrase settles in my brain pan. I can let it broil, fade and then linger, joining the shadows-- But just as easily, it slides down and jumps off the tip of my tongue;

It can make it feel small, a trifle worth only a snarky comment. But I can also feel heard- seen, a matter for not just paranoid persons though as one, I know the places I'll go, when a spoken slither cuts, As such, I can regret, feel ashamed- what am I doing, glamorizing it? Enabling myself?- others?- But sometimes it's just too sweet... Like how could it be bad? I'm jaded; a scowled perspective, even so: So quaint; like a bow, rapping up thoughts toe-to-toe, Tasty palatable breath of anything between life and death, Inhaled in your lungs it

Allegory is something I do adore, the parallels of interconnected plains, have so much to offer and store, And frankly it tickles my brains! The brain is a jar, it boils-- eh more ferments-- I suppose it can boil; when pressures arise, energetic synapses bulge forcing your eyes, To see what once wouldn't be a surprise, as who you once were finally dies. You are a pickle now

Might as well add a "for" before the now, for how now came to be will happen again, Ah-gain you gain more sane somehow, Like time or rhyme it's a matter of when. Then again- In general, I don't like saying things lacking in poeticism, Makes the words benign, slopped in the same film of unimportance, as every other word... some might say I'm ill-fitting... And I'd say their unimaginative and they'd say I'm being mean And I'd say no more than them and they'd say to be factual and true And I'd say consider it already done ... and unsurprisingly they miss the poeticism

Oh erm my point... well that regardless of the word's content, I'd want to say it with Chutzpah. So that surely can't justify saying things that irk? That's like putting sprinkles on faeces... to irk?

That might be it? A worthy cause! Ruffle farthers of belligerent status quo? erh... I'm just gonna take it case by case cuz I don't know :p

[little-johnny-jewel]

It's been a very long time since I've posted here, and it's really a good thing (this was a vent blog) and a lot of autonomy and control came to me over time that sort of outmoded the need to be complaining here. Still, as cloying as I was in all my posts that I just deleted, it's kind of interesting how the same old anxieties are still around, more manageable, but largely of problems that persisted. My expectations changed. One of the most freeing things I've ever felt was that nobody owed me anything.

I guess the dialectic counterpart to that still hasn't sunk in. To rescind servitude from others with grace feels impossible, though I'm sure that comes down to the less sociable tendrils of my personality. I've never been able to treat myself as a genuine, like my connection to others has to be a joke or an insult. I long for a kind of affection that I stopped getting from my parents when I really needed it and never felt it fair to expect that affection from anyone else when I feel too scared to extend it. Scared of what? I don't know, of being dismissed for it. Of my belief that it's a joke being justified. It amazes me how other people manage to find the drive to get over that.

Until then, though, it's been seeming like the way for me is being alone, which I can deal with, but it's hard to leave the people I live with behind. They're part of my life, but they don't do much for me - not literally, but I think I need people who challenge me the way that they don't. It feels like I have to hold myself down around them (conceited words like this probably mean I'll look back at a post like this and wince one day).

There's still a longing part of me, unfortunately, and I think it justifies dusting this blog off. That venting was seriously detrimental was the reason I stopped posting here, and I think that, by and large, it's still true. But maybe I see the need to at least communicate my thoughts in a way so that they don't sit inside me - not that anyone needs to read them and act, but I feel the need to express myself as if I were explaining myself to someone because so many aspects of my pathology are so assumed (by myself) that, without clarification, it makes no sense when read back. And, if nothing else, all I've ever wanted was the plain and clear truth

[joelmmd]

kingdom hearts post again. finished kh2!

couldn't bring myself to keep going for 100% and do all of data organization 13. it took me like a day just to beat 2 of the bosses and i wasn't feeling like grinding the rest out after that and Especially wasn't looking forward to doing the same with lw. i'll probably come back to wrap all that up later, though.

i had a lot of fun with the game! one of my complaints with kh1 was that the combat was ~1 layer of depth away from being engaging for the whole 30 or so hours you'd be playing for, and kh2 has remedied it pretty well. forms are cool and add extra strategy when it comes to which one to use and when, keyblades coming with their own abilities makes it worth switching them around for reasons that aren't just "this has the highest strength/magic", and i feel like some of the abilities here are a lot more impactful than the first game's. the new mp system is weird but ultimately good, rewards players for not getting hit for a while and doesn't enable "fuck you" attacks by letting you stock up like 20 cures to make them not matter. not a fan of using cure Once meaning you can't use magic at all until it recharges but it is how it is.

enemy/boss design (gameplay-wise) is still not great. i'm starting to think this is always the case, and that you just don't see the cracks until the game starts demanding really good play from you. it's harder to get mad about some bullshit way you got hit if it only did like 1/5 of your health, but when it starts putting you at 1 hp you have to actually confront the move and realize "wow that's not ok".

the worlds were really good this time around. definitely appreciated how the game stopped caring so much about justifying why you're helping out the disney guy or riding a skateboard or doing a musical, they just let you do it. i didn't hear a thing about "Sora you aren't allowed to meddle in these worlds!!! Let's just get the keyhole and leave" and it was great.

standout mentions are the pirate world for the realistic ass ghouls & CJS's party member icon looking edited in, halloween town for having christmas town in it, lion king world for being the most egregiously "oc" yet (my lion oc is just a kid but he's super strong... he has spiky brown hair and dark fur and attacks with a Weapon instead of claws and stuff), and timeless river for just being great, it's probably my favorite. they all felt a bit short, though. probably a good thing for some of them, but i would've loved to have more to do after finishing them than just fighting mushrooms.

the story sucks dick. feels as bad as the first game's with way more steps to get there. organization 13 are fine antagonists but they're fighting for the spotlight with fucking Pete. and maleficent. pete really doesn't feel like the right character for "harbinger of darkness with plot to take over world". they end up doing jack dick anyways so i have to ask if they're only here to make sure the tone stays light and to keep the focus at least a little on disney.

i also don't like the whole "nobodies don't have feelings and don't exist and dont have hearts so they're basically nonpeople and it's ok that they're never happy" thing, it feels really weird compared to the rest of the game being generally optimistic and hopeful. especially with the game saying "darkness isn't bad and we need both it and light", feels like a step forward and then a step back in philosophy. waste of potential too! it's a lot harder to get invested in any future nobodies (assuming there are any) if you plain up say they don't have emotion or feelings.

i don't know if i'd say the writing's so bad, there were a few charming moments here and there that stuck with me and it was a lot less "No! The darkness... The light of the heart, Kingdom Hearts, the heartless the darkness... Kairi... Your light..." than the first game. part of it's definitely helped by the better voice acting across the board. there were for sure less moments where it got noticeably bad, and they actually bothered to bring in the whole winnie the pooh cast this time. sora's the big winner here, though, his performance here really elevated the character for me. or maybe he's just more interesting with the extra few years under his belt.

lightning round-prologue is neat in how it kind of prepares you for the real game but it's like 3 hours long, sora's new outfit & the form variations are pretty cool, reaction commands aren't as intrusive as i expected, limits are fun but i usually just healed instead, cure becoming an aoe is a change i like a lot, switching the target you're locked onto is bound to right trigger + flick right stick and it fucking sucks, being able to move the camera around while locked on is pretty great, and donald & goofy were a bit more capable this time around. still died a lot but they very rarely got on my nerves.

long, but i think i've said what i wanted to say. fun times. moving on to Dream Drop Distance now, which i've already got my hopes a bit lowered for from trying it out before. can't imagine it's gonna suck or anything though, as long as i can swing my funny keyblade as riku the game can only be so bad.