#ugh writing is hard

[lyingindecay]

I'm going fucking mad over here. I'm writing this Maximus request then got an idea for a Lucy/Reader/Maximus/Thaddeus fic and I'm running, crying, and screaming because I want to just put the idea directly from my brain onto a doc and I can't 😔

[chibishortdeath]

Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).

I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.

So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.

[mychemicalrachel]

Dizzy ✨ Dizzy ✨ Dizzy ✨ Dizzy

Trying my best to get one last chapter posted before the year is over. Wish me luck...

The first time he met Prokopenko, he was struck by the caricature that was pre-teen rebellion; a scrawny boy who had barely touched the beginning of puberty with a cigarette between his fingers, who introduced himself by his last name. It was one of the very first times that Kavinsky felt the trajectory of his life tilt precariously off balance. Until then, everything was according to plan. Ivan Prokopenko was not the kind of person one could plan for and it was there in his voice, a silent offering, when Proko said, “You’re Joseph Kavinsky, right?”

It was a choice then, as miniscule as it may have been, to pick something else. He could be Joseph Kavinsky, the legacy heir with a heavy crown, the person he was told to be… or he could be someone else.

“Kavinsky,” he said. “It's just Kavinsky.”

In the confines of Derek Swanson’s bedroom, in the heat between his sheets, Kavinsky didn’t exist. He slipped into another self, he became whatever Derek wanted to make of him– submissive, passive, relaxed; he was simply K.

K liked the roughness of Derek’s hands on his waist, the taste of Derek’s fingers in his mouth, the whine that caught in his throat when Derek hit a certain sensitive spot inside of him. K liked the burn in his lungs and the ache in his back and falling asleep next to a solid body, even if he usually woke up alone. K liked not having any concerns or fears or guilt or cares. He could simply exist in this nonexistent state.

[violinfantasy]

when the academic article is so good it has you giggling and kicking your feet

[neon-danger]

Me writing myself into corners every three paragraphs

[creeperthescamp]

i think one of the least used concepts in elder scrolls lore is its nebulous relationship to truth.

like something i do actually appreciate about that cunt kirkbride's writing in morrowind is that the mythology of the tribunal is allowed to be relatively ambiguous and there's room for poetry and fable and unreliable narrators. there's a strong general tendency in both fandom and dev to interpret lore quite literally and treat every text as reliable sources of fact about tamriel even when the text is like. fiction or written with a clear bias towards certain factions or prejudices.

the main example I'm thinking of is the 'notes on racial phylogeny' lore book. it's literally just racist pseudoscience and in a real life context would be considered unreliable and deeply offensive. but in tes, i rarely see anyone stop to actually consider that perhaps this lore isn't really a factual study of how bodies work but about how the imperial empire categorises the people it colonises and justifies it's supremacy. there's so much focus on determining the rules and metaphysical aspects of the world that there's no consideration that the way factions like the empire see the world is inherently flawed.

it's fun to think of a world where stars are literal holes punched in the fabric of the sky, or that water is made of memory, but i also think it would be a much more fun and flexible world if these theories are considered to be just a few of many lenses that people in tamriel use to try to understand their world. some of my favourite pieces of lore and world building are things like 'cherims heart of anequina' that imply a rich world of culture and art; i love the idea that tamriel has art and art critics and people who discuss ideas for other purposes than trying to figure out what's The Only True Lore.

[essektheylyss]

"When you make stories or art that are a kind of shortcut to proving yourself right, that's sort of the definition of propaganda, I think."

SAY THAT, BRENNAN.

[egoarc4de]

if it stops i'm having an unshakable nightmare

[deoidesign]

My comic is so pretty...

The hiatus is letting me take a little extra time on these episodes, and I'm definitely putting it to good use!!!

[fishyartist]

Ui idea tests, thrown together bc im eepy. Was planning on doing more but I spent all my days energy on the second one oops

[aroceu]

i've been rewatching the good place with a friend lately so i've been thinking about it a lot and i just keep thinking

about how eleanor says so much that she's not a bad person, she's just a "medium" person. she didn't kill anyone, she didn't technically abuse anyone, she was selfish but not "horrible," she was human.

except when we see eleanor pre-death, we see something different. no, she didn't murder anyone. but she was pretty horrible. she was really good at lying to elderly people to sell them fake drugs. she abused her friend's dog. she lied to her coworkers to get out of driving for them at the bar. she felt so threatened by people feeling like they were better than her that when she saw concrete proof that a coffee shop manager was misogynistic and sexually assaulted someone, she enthusiastically supported the cafe to be contrary to her boyfriend.

she is very obviously a horrible person. even in season 2, michael calls her a manipulative demon; that's not something you get called if you're just a "medium" person. what we're told, and what her reasoning is a lie. but she doesn't know it. it's a lie to the viewers.

she also stands in stark contrast with jason—who has broken the law multiple times, has gotten arrested multiple times, likes celebrities and hobbies that have a terrible reputation (not just for being "trash" but for being actively hateful), and even if he might not have killed someone, there's probably something in his repertoire that comes close. but at the same time, it's very, very obvious to see that he's a good-hearted person, who wants to do more good than harm. compared to eleanor, whose bad actions are much smaller in comparison, but her bad personality makes her less likable, and much worse. yes, of course it's about environment—but it's also about how goodness might be more accurately judged by intent than by action.

i saw someone say that it was unrealistic that eleanor didn't call chidi a racial slur when she was a white woman from arizona. sentimentally, i agree with the realism argument. but at the same time, i think it would've been out of place. eleanor would know that saying a slur is on a different level of wrong. a lot of the bad things she did were indirect; it was a lot about what she did when no one was looking. but she didn't want to see herself as a horrible person, so she wouldn't have wanted anyone to see either. as long as they didn't get too close for her.

eleanor being a "medium" person is a lie. of course she belongs in the bad place. she's initially presented as a "medium person" because the story wants us to be on her side, wants us to believe that she's as human as us, until the season one flashbacks start to tell a different story. then it makes us squint and go, no, eleanor really is a terrible person. but the show is aware of this too!

and yet, the thesis of the show is that bad people can always get better. that no one is beyond rehabilitation; that society fucks us up but it's still the choices that we make that mean the most about who we are in the end. we get to see the growth of eleanor's good person journey through the entirety of season one, so that even as we realize she was a shitty person on earth, we're still rooting for her by the end of it. season one is the show's entire thesis; seasons two through four are just proving it to us. and eleanor proves herself to us over and over again, so that even as we know how terrible she was, and how terrible she's capable of being, we still know and believe that she belongs in the good place at the end.

[whaliiwatching]

Im goijg to eat your art oh my goodness

honestly you are probably the sole reason i began shipping noirpunk THEYRE SO FUCKING ADORABLE

glad to be recruiting for the cause! this one tastes like sugar cookies. perhaps also arsenic but who’s to say

[crybaby-bkg]

Sleazy Dabi who likes going for the sweet ones, the ones who can hardly look him in the eye and hesitate a little when he gets close to them. The ones who always chuckle nervously when he starts flirting, whose words turn to whispers when they admit they’re new to this whole thing.

Whole thing? He always asks with a tip of their chin to look him in the eye. Whole thing with guys like you, they always mumble back. He likes the look, the challenge, the fight in their eyes as he knows how his charm can soothe their battling minds.

He wins every time.

Sleazy Dabi who likes the inexperienced ones, the ones who stutter and stumble and shake a little when his hand rests on their thighs. The ones who tell him, they don’t know what they’re doing. He loves the sweet little look that passes over their faces when he reassures them that he’ll be there every step of the way, holding their hands if he needs to.

But sleazy Dabi who loves you the most. His latest, and last, plaything turned lover. Who used to be so scared to touch him without shaking, who couldn’t look him in the eye without smiling whenever he kissed you. Who used to sing him the prettiest songs whenever he made you work for it, gain that confidence he knew was lurking beneath the shadows.

Before, when he told you to ride him for the first time, he can still remember the scared little look on your face. How your eyes grew round and you fiddled with your fingers, whispering that you don’t know how—don’t know what to do—where to put your hands—where to look. He comforted you, walked you through the whole thing until you lost yourself in the moment and fell headfirst into him.

And now? Now, he doesn’t even have to ask.

“It looks so pretty,” he hears you murmur under your breath, eyes snapping down to look at the sight of you. Pumping a hand around his drooling cock, pulling until the pre gathers in your palm, only to slide it back down again once more. He looks up when he feels your stare, licking his lips at your hung open mouth and round eyes and heaving chest.

“Lemme ride it. Please?” You ask softly. Usually, he’d remind you of your manners, question where that sweet, innocent, hesitant person went, ask when you became so bold. But you look so hungry for it, already raising on your knees, already swiping his pierced tip through your wetness.

“You know it’s yours. You don’t even have to ask.” Dabi mutters against your mouth when you lean into him, gasping when he breaches your hole. And he means what he said—ever since he met you, every part of him has been yours, even if you didn’t know it yet.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

You ever think about how in spite of knowing their exact locations, the game never gives any indication that templar Carver has reported his mage sibling, Merril (a blood mage) or Anders (an abomination) to his superiors?

I do think about that a lot, even though I tend to ignore the Templar Carver route because I know Warden Carver to be true in my heart and soul... but I totally get the appeal of Templar Carver within DA2's narrative, y'know?

It's so fascinating, really. I've never played a run with Templar Carver, I just can't bring myself to do it, so I know I'm missing out on smaller details of it. From what I do know, this drives me crazy in the best way possible.

Deciding whether to bring him or not to the Deep Roads is such an important choice, not only because it affects his fate, but how it affects his relationship to Hawke. He tells you that he wants to go, he makes it very clear that it's important to him that he goes, too... and Hawke can just leave him behind and it hurts him. I don't think that registers enough with some people just because of how Carver is, like it doesn't matter what Hawke's motivations are [staying behind for his safety, not wanting to bring him, thinking someone should stay with Leandra, etc] it still hurts him because it tells him that Hawke doesn't need him, and Carver wants to be needed.

And yes, there are other contributing factors to why he joins the templars, but it doesn't matter what your relationship is to him, it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't turn Hawke or his companions in.

Sure, the meta reason is it's a video game and you're playing the main character. You're never in any actual danger of being captured by templars, and you're not going to lose your companions to them that easy.

But if we look at it through the narrative and Carver's character, that's when it gets interesting. You can max out his rivalry and be an utter asshole to him [there's a point where you can call him a brat and mock him for being stuck in your shadow, like Hawke can be real cruel about it] but it doesn't matter, you're still his sibling. He even makes a remark about how you might not know what that means [referring to leaving him behind] but he does. He refuses to kill Hawke in the end when Meredith makes the order, too.

Which can I just point out that Hawke has the option to let Bethany die in the end if she's with the circle and they side with the templars? Just saying, Carver NEVER does that no matter what, but Hawke has the option to betray Bethany like that and it's fucked and interesting and it makes me want to eat my chair-

As for Merrill and Anders, I think he knows that if he turns either of them in, then the chances of Hawke being brought in as well skyrocket. They're all friends, they're in the same group... bring one in, and you'll probably get the other two.

I also think Carver just genuinely likes Merrill. Yes, I'm a Carver/Merrill shipper, so I have a bias, but even if you remove anything romantic from their dynamic I believe that's true. Of all the companions, Merrill is the only one who doesn't make fun of him, or find him annoying, in party banters. He never snaps back at her, like he's never defensive with her, he's just a little awkward and nice.

Like, HE'S SO NICE TO HER! He tries to find common ground with her! She asks him about "swording" and he's taken aback by her saying he's good at it, but you KNOW that if someone like Anders asked him the same question, he's be all, "shut up, you're stupid, stop talking to me >:["

Think back to that banter Carver can have with Aveline post-act 1 where they're talking about how the guard wasn't the right place for him [hard disagree with you there, Aveline] and Carver says he was a bit of a tit, wasn't he.... and every companion will agree except Merrill. She doesn't say anything, whereas other companions like Anders will be like "ugh maker YES" and if you have a purple Hawke, they'll go on to other ways Carver was a tit like?? I think Carver and Merrill got along and he doesn't want to turn her in because she was nice to him! And she's a blood mage! He knows what will happen to her if the templars get ahold of her! He doesn't want to see her made tranquil or killed!

At that point, he's witnessed what bad blood mages can do, assuming you've brought him along for those quests, but even so. He knows Merrill isn't like that and he likes her, so of course he's not going to turn her in despite that being his literal duty.

Then there's Anders who Carver doesn't like. If you're in a romance with him, Carver will tell him that's why he doesn't turn him in but c'mon Carver, you know that's not the only reason. My theory is Carver may not like Anders and he knows the man's got a spirit of justice inside of him... but Anders also runs a free clinic. If he's ever taken in by templars, then so many people [including a LOT of Fereldan refugees] will be without free health care and will suffer for it. I think in Carver's eyes, Anders might be irritating but he doesn't more good than harm. Carver knows first hand how shitty refugees and poorer people are treated in Kirkwall. Anders' clinic is the one place they can go for help and actually get it, and he's not going to be the one to take that away because the templars say "magic bad."

So yeah, I'm not as informed about the Templar Carver route, but I do think about how if I did do that route, he wouldn't betray Hawke or their companions no matter what and what that says about him.

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[skyward-floored]

Volga gets some spotlight for a change (hdw au)

Comes after Volga confronting Cia (and Link on Skyloft, but it’s slightly less necessary to understand this)

...

Volga seeks out and fights the strongest. That is his objective.

He goes where the sorceress tells him, leads monsters into battles as she deems fit. He sees others only as adversaries, evaluating them solely on the threat they pose, the strength they wield.

Nothing else matters.

Only his orders, and strength.

The Hylian army is at their gates, working steadily through the valley, and despite the sorceress increasing Volga’s power, they’re still advancing, calling upon the Great Fairy to aid them. Volga himself is forced to retreat back to Cia’s side, and he stands silently beside her, waiting for her orders.

She’s watching the battle with a look in her eye that grows steadily more enraged, her knuckles whitening on her staff. It isn’t long before she orders him back out, commanding him to find the princess and crush her.

Volga nods, preparing to obey, when the sorceress stops him, a manic look in her eyes.

“This time you will destroy them,” she snarls, and thrusts her hand against his chest.

Power rushes through him, greater than what he had received before, and Volga roars as it fills his veins, turning into a dragon and leaping into the air.

This time he will be the strongest.

Volga glides across the valley, making a beeline towards the army’s leader, the princess’s sword flashing across the battlefield. He lands with a roar, and she quickly turns her attention to him, eyes widening as she leaps out of the way of his first attack.

Volga is merciless, using his weapons of both spear and claws, shooting fire and dive bombing with his dragon form. The princess is annoyingly stubborn though, avoiding nearly all of his attacks, parrying blows and dodging flames.

Some distant part of Volga is impressed.

He snarls as she avoids yet another thrust of his spear, and the princess looks at him, something odd flashing in her gaze.

“Volga! Come to your senses!” she suddenly shouts, parrying an attack. “I know you to fight with honor! What glory is there to be found in using dark magic to win all of your battles?”

“Don’t mock me!” Volga snarls, slamming a clawed hand towards her. How dare she?

“Open your eyes!” Zelda shouts as she dodges, still not giving up. “I believed you to be a proud dragon warrior, not a mercenary for darkness!“

Their weapons clash, and Zelda looks up at Volga without fear, her blue eyes bright.

“Think of your family, Volga. Look past the darkness clouding your vision.”

Volga falters just a hair, a snarl dying in his throat. There is certainly no darkness clouding him, merely the extra power the sorceress provided, but Zelda’s words of family carry a spark of something different. Something... important?

Volga shakes his head, frowning.

...What had she said again?

The spark fades, and Volga roars, hitting her backwards with a clawed hand. The princess is thrown to the ground with a cry, but before Volga can press his attack, there’s a flash of blue and green, and the Hero stands in his way, sword raised.

He has a stricken expression on his face, but Volga barely registers it, roaring again as he goes to face the both of them. The princess regains her footing as the hero slams his shield up to block Volga’s spear, and the three of them resume the fight.

Other monsters join the attack, and the hero’s attention is drawn to keeping them away from his princess, mostly leaving her and Volga to fight alone. Volga draws constantly on the sorceress’s power, and it’s soon obvious the princess begins to flag against his brutal attacks.

She fights on though, tenacious as ever. Soon enough Volga finds their weapons locked again, her eyes fixed on his face.

“Knight Volga, I thought you a protector, a dragon of honor,” she says, voice breathless but earnest. Blood drips across her eye but she doesn’t loosen her grip to wipe it away. “This isn’t who you are, drawing on dark power, fighting in wars for a cause you don’t believe in!”

That persistent spark of something comes back in Volga’s mind, flickering in his thoughts, buzzing in his memory. It makes him falter, just a little.

“Please,” Zelda repeats, still straining against his spear. “For Link’s sake.”

The name rings familiar, and Volga stumbles as a face flickers in his mind, blue eyes shining through the murk. Looking at him in trepidation as information spills from hylian lips, scales glittering in places they have no right to be.

What is this memory?

He can’t recall the events that led to it, or what came after, or even where he was when it occurred. In fact... all he can really recall is the sharp urge to fight the strongest, destroy the enemy, do as the sorceress commands.

Who is the boy with scales on his arms, and hair nearly the same color as his own?

“Volga,” the princess speaks again, less strained now, and Volga belatedly realizes he’s stopped fighting. “Fight past this darkness. I know you are more than what Cia is letting you be.”

Cia.

The name is like a clap of thunder in his head, and suddenly the darkness he’d denied was choking him is all too evident, coursing through him alongside his fire, constricting his thoughts and twisting his actions. Its influence is overwhelming, and Volga clutches a hand over his chest, thoughts whirling as memories rush back.

Cia invading his home and forcing him under her service, ignoring his wishes to be left alone. Using her magic to make him fight, starting a war over lust for his son, putting him on the opposite side of his own kin.

Purposely obscuring the fact that he had a son.

Volga snarls, anger rising as flames drip from his lips. Cia used dark power, foisted upon him without his say, using him as nothing but another pawn in her game and his son—

“No... no!” Volga shouts, gripping at his head with both hands. “I won’t be ruled by darkness!”

He won’t remain Cia’s puppet for another second.

Volga lashes out at the darkness coating him, tearing at Cia’s influence in his chest. He can feel her power fight back the moment he pushes against it, darkness reaching up to claw at his mind, but Volga tears back with claws of his own, refusing to succumb to it again.

He pushes back with his own power, not that of the sorceress, fire clashing with darkness.

A roar builds in his throat as he gains a solid foothold, and he pushes it out, Cia’s dark power leaving him all in a rush.

And he is free.

Weakness follows the loss of power, but even as Volga drops to a knee, he feels more clearheaded, more alive, then he has in weeks.

And it’s overwhelmingly refreshing.

Volga curls his fingers into the dirt as he regains his bearings, clutching his spear as he raises himself up off the ground again. The princess stands a few feet away, watching him with a hopeful look on her face, and Volga huffs, looking away.

...right into the eyes of the hero.

His son.

Volga stares, the boy staring back with an uncertain look on his face. The hero’s gaze is interrupted by a monster slashing at him, and Volga shakes himself, then looks around the battlefield, taking in what he’s missed.

His gaze falls on the princess again, and something burns in his chest, a need to finish what he started. Volga raises his spear in challenge, pointing it at her and the hero.

“This time I will duel you properly. I will win this fight under my own power,” he declares.

He has other business, important business even (Cia will pay, he swears it), but his pride insists he finishes this fight. He wants to show the two of them how he really fights, no dark powers, no false strength.

To finish the fight he began in an honorable manner.

The princess hesitates at his request, exchanging a loaded look with her hero. But he nods, and she nods as well, pointing her sword back.

And they start the fight anew, dragon, princess, and hero.

The fight is invigorating, to say the least. Volga’s very scales seem to buzz with excitement as he battles the two, the old fire coming back to his blood. They’re an incredible team, truly powerful, and fighting them helps immensely with continuing to wake him up, forcing any remnant of Cia’s power from his bones.

They weave in and out in tandem, one of them striking, and then darting out as the other attacks. Despite the remaining weakness from the loss of darkness, Volga matches them blow for blow, his blood singing as he duels the two.

He hasn’t had a fight this challenging in years, and it reminds him of older days, of other duels.

A smile on a tanned face, ruby-red eyes, hair the color of new-fallen snow...

Volga promptly pushes that image aside. He needs to focus on the here and now, and his strength is fading, the hero and princess still pressing their attack.

As much as he hates to admit it, Cia’s actions have left him low on strength, and as enjoyable as this fight is... he’s fading. Rather fast.

And suddenly, he finds himself on his knees, a sword pointing at his neck.

Volga looks at Zelda, then over at his son, both of them breathing hard. An odd feeling of pride runs through him as he looks at the boy, and he almost smiles. Only one other person has ever been able to truly best him in battle, and it’s clear both of them learned from her.

Impa taught them well.

...It was no wonder Cia wanted one dead and the other her captive.

Anger courses through him at the reminder of the sorceress’s treachery, but his energy is spent. Too spent for him to reasonably mount a successful attack on her.

His vengeance will have to wait.

The princess opens her mouth to speak, but Volga beats her to it, closing his eyes as blood runs from a cut over one of them. “I accept my defeat with honor. I lose, but I do so without regrets.”

He exhaled and looks up at the two of them, and his son meets his eyes again, blood and dirt smeared on his face.

Volga gives him a singular nod, then despite his weariness, turns into his dragon form and takes off into the skies. He needs to rest, and recover from his wounds before figuring out what to do next.

And... process the ramifications of having a son.

Impa...

Link and Zelda watch him go in silence, Volga’s wings bright as a comet as he glides away. They’re both breathing heavily from the battle, small injuries bleeding, burns stinging. Zelda is smiling though, and there’s a hesitant sort of hope in Link’s eyes as they watch the dragon grow smaller in the distance.

Zelda squeezes Link’s shoulder as Volga finally disappears from their sight, but they don’t have time to dwell on what just occurred.

Cia still needs to be taken care of. But then...

Link supposes they’ll figure it out.