I can't wait for when I can take him back home. It's been very quiet here without him. Not that I don't like silence, but this silence has just been a bit.. lonely.
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but only hope and sorrows end by iron_spider (chapter 9 of 13)
“I’m sorry, Pete, I just don’t want—I just want to be better—I wanna be better now, I want to have been—better—”
“You were the best you could have been,” Peter says, still not looking at him. “You were—you were my hero. From the beginning, the entire time. I don’t know why you don’t believe me.”
“I do,” Tony says, getting desperate.
His hero. Did he earn that?
Stop questioning it. If he says it, he means it.
“But you don’t, or you wouldn’t keep saying it, and you wouldn’t keep—being so deep inside your head, and your memories, and grabbing an old car of your dad’s and running off the road—and I just—I don’t know what to say to make you believe me.”
READ HERE
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the doylist reason that amarantha acotar is Like That TM, i think, is that sj maas just didn’t want to make the villain a character and instead just made her An Evil Dominatrix TM ooooo isn’t that so scary? doesn’t it contrast feyre’s kindness and capacity for growth in a way that might work if there weren’t just five named female characters, three of which don’t do much.
but if i were to do a watsonian reading, well......
i think that amaratha, maybe, was a good general at some point. maybe she was clever, and was able to suss out the skills and goals of those under her to make sure they fell in line and helped her achieve her and her king’s goals. but those goals were 1. to win a war that was already lost 2. to maintain a species based system of slavery 3. to keep a sister who is now dead safe and happy 4. to woo her friend’s young, beautiful son.
the conditions of the world in which she was a general are very different from the ones where she’s a “queen”. there’s no more sister, of course, so any of the kind impulses are gone. the friend is dead and the son seems to have no interest in her and what’s she have to do? go be a failed peacetime war commander in her failking’s court?
sure, she did that for a time, but she got bored and frustrated and ever so bitter. so then it was time for her to go mine prythian for everything she can still get from it. steal herself a group of enslaved fey to replace the fact that she can’t enslave humans anymore. ensnare and constantly rape the surviving night court member that killed her friend. try to win the pretty son of that friend over, have it blow up spectacularly in her face, and then give him a cruel curse that hits all your own buttons.
the biggest part of this, though, is that she’s grown complacent in the years since she tricked her way into the queenship. yes, she’s not viewing the very real possibilities of “treason” on rhysand or anyone else’s part as a possibility. and that’s because she’s not viewing this “court” as a group of beings with their own motives and skills. she owns their high lords’ magic, what exactly do they think they’re gonna do? rebel? HA! she thinks that she’s got them too caught to do that, no matter the reasons that they might.
sure, she’ll cry “treason” when the time comes, but she doesn’t think of it as a betrayal of a two-sided ruler/subject relationship. she thought that she owned them, fair and square, and was very angry when that power-base came crashing down.
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tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired tired
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[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]
a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury
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