Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.
Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?
Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3
TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.
I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)
Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:
"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.
"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.
"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.
"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.
I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.
'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.
People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.
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hello!! i haven’t interacted with your blog much but i just rolled in from the last tigh//nari post you wrote (so good!) and saw you might be looking for requests? i’m still really nervous asking and not sure what i’m doing so no offense taken if you disregard!
anyway, i’d love to read some cy/no content? if you’re along w any ships (cynari, haino, etc) that’s totally cool. maybe like a [plant/flower] allergy situation when he visits the forest?
hope you’re well and thanks for sharing content <3
Thank you so much for the req!! I'm sorry for the wait, I really hope you enjoy!
reqs are open
Pairing: cynari
Words: 1044
CW/TW: sneezing content, mention of mess
Cyno had not anticipated anything special out of this trip to the forest. He was going only to see Tighnari- who had excitedly informed him of a new discovery made deep into the forest watcher’s patrolling area. The look on his friend’s face, combined with the eager swishing of his tail behind him, was more than enough convincing to get the mahamntra to venture into the greenery.
It’s quiet as he pads along the roughly and hastily made trail, leaving him with his own thoughts- excitement to see tighnari again, listen to him ramble on about whatever he had found, a slight apprehension at the possibility of this being dangerous- not that either of them could not hold their own, but tighnari was often so eager to research that he did not stop to think about any possible consequences to himself, and he hated seeing him in pain. Muddled in with these feelings, a slight but sudden itch in the back of his nose. He presses a knuckle against the side of it absentmindedly, just as a pair of ears perking up quickly catches his attention.
“You made it!” Tighnari calls out to him, tredging through ankle-deep tangles of weeds to meet him. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and a tangle in his usual well-kept tail. As Cyno nods his greeting, he cannot help but wonder how long he’s been out here. The other seems to be aware of it, occasionally flicking the appendage about in absent-minded frustration.
Tighnari leads him further into the forest, happily rambling on about the things they pass by and what his research has granted so far. Cyno can’t get himself to focus, the itch in his sinus suddenly alight, forcing his breath to hitch just once before calming again. He can almost feel Tighnari’s concerned frown, but he decides to keep quiet about it for now, to Cyno’s gratitude.
Suddenly, he’s stopped. Tighnari moves to the side, looking at Cyno with pride clear in his eyes. He’s meet with the sight of a large, blooming flower, encased in golden vines that seem almost-conscious, twitching at any movement around them. “I haven’t been able to touch it yet, and my elemental attacks have no effect. That’s why I brought you out here, I was hoping maybe electrical- Cyno?” His ramblings cease as he catches sight of him, hands cupped loosely in front of his face, usually serious expression crumpled into one of desperation as he fights off the need uselessly, breath stuttering until he can no longer fight it.
‘hEh-itSH! ‘tShi! hiH-” The third one is lost, leaving him sniffling, trying to rub the irritation out of his sinuses. “Archons, bless you! Are you feeling alright?” Cyno sniffles uselessly again, trying to will some of the congestion out of his voice before he speaks.
“I’m fine. You can romaine calm.” Tighnari groans in response. “You must be, if you’ve got the energy to make jokes. Anyways, can you try to hit ones of the vines with your elemental attack? Be gentle, please, and don’t damage the plant itself.” Cyno nods, saluting in a ‘yes sir’ gesture, as he prepares to follow instructions. He presses the back of his hand to his nose, scrunching up the appendage as he aims carefully. But he was unable to fight against his body and control it at once, sent foreward with another flurry of sneezes the moment he releases the energy, causing it to be sent foreward towards the flower. It’s reaction was instant, sending out a shower of pollen before curling into a ball, vines wound around it tightly. Cyno faintly hears a noise of frustration come from Tighnari, but he can’t focus, paralyzed with the awful tickle that came as the pollen surrounded him. He was in the direct line of fire, and he felt it, nostrils feeling alight as his eyes watered, he couldn’t even fight it, thrown into a desperate fit.
“haH’TSCHhi- KSHhiew! hih- hidT’SHHih! ‘idtSHhiew- sCHih!” They tore at his throat, raw and painful as his body tried desperately to release all of the pollen. He felt almost embarrassed, unable to do anything as Tighnari watched helplessly. “tignarihHh-tSHhi!” Even just his name seemed to break his stupor, the fox-tailed man rushing over and grabbing Cyno’s arm, bringing him somewhere- he could not even keep his eyes open long enough to tell, the lower half of his face buried in an arm he threw up to avoid spraying the other. He felt himself be gently led into a sitting position, half aware of the sun now beaming down on them.
His breath caught, leaving him helpless into a rough fit of coughing that didn’t seem to let him. He felt Tighnari’s hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles as he whispered encouraging phrases until the coughing finally let up. He leaned back against Tighnari, unable to resist the need to catch his breath. His face was wet with tears, nose running onto his upper lip. He roughly cleaned it up with the back of his wrist.
“There you go, you’re okay. Any trouble breathing?” Came the soft voice next to Cyno, reminding him suddenly of his blunder. Tighnari had been so eager to research, and he had messed it up. Guilt shot through him. “Sorry, ‘nari.” He pawed at his nose again while he spoke.
“It’s alright. I can bring somebody else another day.” Tighnari soothed, hands beginning to card through the others' hair. “Right now, we need to get you cleaned up. The pollen on your clothes won’t do you any good.” he stood quickly, reaching out a hand to Cyno, but he was distracted with the need to sneeze once again, raising a shaky hand in warning.
“hIh’tSChih!i’tsCHuh!�� He sniffled once more as Tighnari waited patiently, before taking the hand offered to him, letting himself be pulled onto his feet.
“Hey, ‘Nari?” The forest watcher turned back to face him, “What is it?” “I’m very frond of you.” Tighnari huffed, turning back around and beginning to stalk off, stopping only a few paces in front of him. “I love you, too, Cyno.” Mahamatra grinned, catching up to his partner as they began the trek home, punctuated with the occasional sneezes.
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Here's a quick. Thing. They're All God's (except LBH) AU. This is like, the ending. no i dont explain anything. i just wanted lqg to get melted down and rebuilt. you know, as gods do. this does have an open/unsatisfactory endind just fyi haha
When he loses the first time, Liu Qingge refuses to acknowledge it. It doesn't matter, after all, as long as he tries again he can change something. He returns the second, third, fourth, fifth times.
He has lost count when he realizes that the something he has changed is in him. With the same heaving blood soaked breaths he coughs up at Luo Binghe's figure, something has been changed in him.
Of course. He cannot be the God of Breakthroughs if he cannot break through.
He keeps losing.
Each battle he marches into is another dig at his once spotless reputation. He feels his divinity and grace slough away from him like dried mud. Still he faces Luo Binghe every day.
It forges him into something else.
When Shen Yuan reawakens, not dead but Ascended, Liu Qingge stops his fruitless battles.
Shen Jiu is with him. At some point the God had shed the title of Qingqiu as trees lose their autumn leaves. Still the God of Bitter Fall and Uneven Ground, of Unfair Advantages, but now also of Cunning Thought and Persistence. He hasn't changed, Liu Qingge realizes. He's just revealed more of who he is.
Shen Yuan is, as always, Shen Jiu's compliment: God of Bountiful Harvest and Smooth Travels, and of Cutting Words and Sloth.
Shen Yuan has, thoroughly, molded himself into the perfect God for his precious demonic pet. Luo Binghe will never want for a single thing ever again with the God of Easy Living walking by his side.
Liu Qingge wants to avoid them both. Everyone else is already aware, but from these two he wishes to hide his failures for just a little longer. However, the core of him is settled in such a way that he cannot find it in himself to pull away.
They want to see him.
It's no surprise that when Yue Qingyuan invites him to a banquet, Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are there as well. As ever, Yue Qingyuan's bias shines through.
"What did you do?" Shen Jiu snarls from across the banquet hall.
"Who— oh Qingge!" Shen Yuan turns and catches sight of him as well.
Tension rises in Liu Qingge's body but—they've already seen. And if, somehow, they are too dense to understand, any one of their God siblings will explain it. Poorly. So Liu Qingge stays.
Shen Jiu is, of course disgusted. Shen Yuan intrigued.
"I thought once gods Ascend they do not change." He comments curiously.
"They don't." Shen Jiu hisses. "They can adapt perhaps. Split. Acquire or shed new epithets or old ones as we have. But they do not change. If they stop being what they are, then that God simply ceases to be."
"It's as it is." Liu Qingge shrugs. "I'm still a God—"
"Of cycles." Shen Jiu accuses.
"Reliability!" Shen Yuan insists. "Qingge is always dependable."
"It is no great thing if you can only depend on him to lose." Shen Jiu's dark gaze is calculating and Liu Qingge understands that, somehow, Shen Jiu knows the whole story already. That he simply needed to see Liu Qingge to fit the pieces together.
"He doesn't lose!" Shen Yuan defends, loyally. "Qingge has always been there when we needed him!"
Silence descends on the banquet hall like an awkward blanket.
"What, did—have I missed something?" Shen Yuan asks, glancing sharply around.
Yue Qingyuan, belatedly, ushers the rest of his guests out. Liu Qingge supposes he must be grateful that Luo Binghe isn't here to enjoy rubbing Liu Qingge's nose in it. Shen Jiu will, assuredly, have no problems doing it instead.
"It's exactly as Shen Jiu says." Liu Qingge starts. "Fighting Luo Binghe has irrevocably changed me." He says.
What he doesn't say: I cannot win against him now even if he deigned to throw the fight.
Perhaps, to Shen Yuan, the change isn't so dramatic. Shen Yuan had never wanted Liu Qingge to win that battle anyway, and Liu Qingge has ever been Shen Yuan's most reliable God-Brother.
Once upon a time, Liu Qingge was a War God. There were and still are many gods of war: strategy and prowess, blood and conquering, weapons and trade.
Liu Qingge was the breakthrough. The final push. The turning of tides. The culmination. He had never failed to turn a lost cause into victory, there had never been a battle lost to him if he meant to win it.
But then Shen Qingqiu became two, and then Luo Binghe built a shrine and Shen Yuan wasn't prepared for his tribulations and then—
Well.
Liu Qingge is a War God. Of Cycles, Shen Jiu says. Of Reliability, Shen Yuan insists. He is the God of forlorn hope, of having only one spear and one sword, of hunting phoenixes in mirrors. The same battle retread for the same reasons.
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the fact that the killers and fob have beef is so homophobic (to me)
I've never seen this quote so like what the Fuck lmao. Anyways we coulda had mr brightside emo version (but maybe better than the one they did tbh) but noOo. (x)
[ID: screenshot of an MTV article that says "You don't realize what you could be getting yourselves into with Fall Out Boy," Flowers said, addressing British music fans, "and what kind of impact it could have in a way that you don't really want. Culturally, if it gets as big as it is in America, it could change an entire generation of people growing up here. Emo, pop-punk -- whatever you want to call it -- is dangerous. We don't wanna dislike anyone, and we've still never met Fall Out Boy, but there's a creature inside me that wants to beat all those bands to death. They just all go into the happy-emo funnel and everyone loves 'em without thinking." End ID]
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