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motimatcha · 3 months

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miss you

hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader

what happens to Adam when you go away for a long time?

Adam really depends on how much attention you give him. As a man who was abandoned by two wives for a "duck" and as a man who was clearly abandoned in subsequent relationships (which most likely were), your attention and confirmation that you are not going anywhere is very important to him.

Adam will probably never admit it, but he gets very worried if he doesn't see you for most of his day. Moreover, you don’t have to have any contact with each other, if Adam just sees you a couple of times a day and you pay your attention to him, he will be more than calm.

And therefore, the information that you will have to leave heaven for two whole weeks, just because you need to start teaching people on the true path, on the righteous path, did not make him happy at all. Most likely, there was a whole scene where Adam tried, if not to beg you to stay, then at least to go with you. He was ultimately not allowed.

Adam, of course, accompanies you (along with Lute, to whom you give instructions on how to deal with your man). He wants to enjoy his last moments with you before the long days of waiting for your return begin. His hands never stop touching your body: constantly holding your hand, intertwining your fingers, putting his hand on your waist, touching your wings, stroking your hair, kissing and all that - he wants to remember the feeling of your body, taste and voice for the entire time while you're gone.

It holds up relatively well. At first. Over time, it becomes noticeable to everyone how his character is deteriorating, it becomes even worse until the moment of your relationship, which is an indicator and a wake-up call for other angels. Everything reminded him of you, especially being in your common home (not surprising): your things, photographs, smell. Adam, at first, even out of habit, sets the table for two, before remembering that you are temporarily absent. Your portion goes to Lute, who feels awkward.

Perhaps the climax was when Adam decided to take up his work as the leader of the exorcists. He needed at least something to prevent obsessive thoughts from entering his head, and due to the fact that the seraphim refused to provide him with any information about you, these thoughts visit him quite often. Adam locks himself in his office and finally touches the papers and documents that required his attention.

He spends his time working from early morning until late evening, sometimes simply spending the night in his office. Adam becomes nervous, tense and angry with every matter that he cannot solve due to his hot-tempered nature, since some decisions required a sensitive attitude and could not be solved with a snap of his fingers. Usually he asked for your help or advice, but due to your absence, he had to turn to Lute, who was also not known for her kindness and gentleness of character.

Adam begins to get annoyed by other angels, especially the happy angels or couples that he meets here and there. "Why are they so happy?" — flashes through his head, or: “Everyone is deliberately getting on my nerves?!”. At some point, Adam breaks down. This probably happened in his office, when some angel handed him a new stack of documents and raised the topic of your absence.

Lute, who was returning to Adam’s office, found a picture of a frightened angel lying on the floor, and Adam bending over him and almost growling at him to get out. After this incident, the angels try to tiptoe around Adam, not look in his direction and not breathe, and God is a witness to whoever upsets Adam’s fragile mental balance. From now on, all matters are transferred personally to Lute, so that she can take everything to Adam.

The angels begin to mentally count the days until your return so that this nightmare ends.

At the end of the last day, when the sky turned a shade of scarlet, as if bursting into flame, a golden portal opened in the sky testified that the angels sent to earth were returning. The rising wind pulled the curly clouds inward, which is why at first it was impossible to say for sure which of the angels appeared in heaven first.

Lute stood in the front row among those awaiting the return of their loved ones. It would be more accurate to say that she was floating almost a couple of meters from the portal, which was slowly distorting space to create a stable corridor between two dimensions. She needed to meet with you as soon as possible while Adam is in a meeting where he is 100% likely to be reprimanded for his behavior over the past two weeks.

— Lute? — sincere surprise is heard in your voice when you leave the portal and see her, and not Adam. — And where?..

— It’s because of him that we need to hurry.

Lute extends his hand to you, which you immediately take. The angel exorcist pulls you along, causing you to jerk forward sharply at first, but in time you begin to flap your own wings, trying to keep up with the girl.

During these two weeks among people, you forgot how powerful exorcist angels are.

You can't help but notice how some angels accompany you with looks of encouragement, looks of relief. You can only wonder what this is connected with, but Adam will definitely be the main figure in this matter. It was suspiciously quiet in parliament, only the rustling of papers, the fluttering of wings, and barely audible whispers coming from the offices behind the high doors. Initially, it was suspicious that Lute brought you here, and not to your home or Adam’s home, and only when approaching his office did you clearly see this certain line, an exclusion zone, where there is not a single ascended soul except you and Lute.

— Adam is now at a meeting, — Lute informs you and, taking out the keys, opens the door to the office, — Please wait for him here.

Lute's voice was full of unspoken pleas and a little panic, as if something terrible would happen if you left. Perhaps Lute’s fears were not so far from the truth, because who knows what Adam will do if he doesn’t see you today; he already missed the opportunity to meet you first. Lute leaves, apparently after Adam, so that he does not waste his time searching for you near the portal to Earth.

Adam's office greets you with darkness, illuminated by light from the crack under the door. The room is hot and stuffy, and there is a sour taste; you doubt that Adam ventilated his own office or did it very rarely. The room was surprisingly tidy and the mountain of documents that was on the table during your last visit was missing, indicating that there was work. Having spread your wings, you fly up to the thickly curtained window to not only let the light of the setting sun into the room, but also to give way to the fresh evening air.

Fingers pull the string and the curtains part to the sides, raising clouds of dust from the windowsill. It immediately becomes lighter, warmer and more comfortable, even a certain atmosphere of romance and mystery creeps in. You pull the handles of the windows, allowing them to creak open and immediately a cool breeze slid over your body, ruffling your hair and feathers of your wings. Until Adam's hot hands touched your waist.

— Hi Adam, — you say and turn in his arms so you’re face to face. — Well, what have you already done?

Adam's grip only became stronger on your waist, but not yet so pressing as to cut off your access to oxygen. Adam, like a cat or dog that was starving for the attention of its beloved owner, wanted to be as close to you as possible, to occupy all your thoughts - a selfish desire to be your only priority. His hand takes your wrist to bring it to his face and rub against your palm, tickling the sensitive skin with the stubble that has begun to grow. Adam looked really tired, as evidenced not only by the dark circles under his eyes, but also by his slow, inhibited actions.

— Sweet tits, who do you even think I am?.. And in general, I really missed my beauty, who left her beloved guy for two weeks. Do you know how I suffered for you?

Looking around his office again and remembering the looks that accompanied you from the other angels, you could imagine the scale of the tragedy that Adam caused every day. And it was honestly and sincerely funny, even a little sweet; a laugh escapes your lips, causing Adam to smile as well before scooping you up in his arms and turning to face his desk, setting you down on the dark wooden surface.

— Next time I’ll go with you, wherever it may be, — Adam promised you with a threat, and then his smile turns from gentle to anticipatory. The fingers on your sides dig deeper into your skin and pull you towards the edge of the table, causing you to wrap your legs around his body and feel his growing erection. — And now you have to take care of the fact that you abandoned me for two weeks.

#hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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sunderwight · 2 months

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SV AU where, while Luo Binghe is supposed to be in the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu comes across a hellhound puppy.

Now, there is an arc in PIDW where Luo Binghe became a hellhound. But it happened like at least a century out from where they are in the timeline, after Binghe had come into his full demonic power, and involved him turning into a slavering beast that eventually become a slavering man-beast (werewolf, basically) who could only be cured by having a lot of very questionable sex with his wives. Shen Yuan wrote a rant about how yet another potentially interesting transformation arc was instead reduced to porn tropes, but it was one of several dozen such rants across many similar story arcs. Airplane barely even remembers writing it because he was having a pretty shit week and just wanted to get the chapters out.

So it doesn't really occur to either him or Shang Qinghua that finding a hellhound puppy might be suspicious. Unexpected, sure, but demons are turning up all over the place all the time, really. And it's years before Luo Binghe is even supposed to be out of the Abyss, like a century before his hellhound transformation story, and when Binghe did turn into a hellhound his two forms consisted of a fully-grown beast and a fully-grown man-beast. Not a puppy.

Of course: that hellhound puppy is definitely Luo Binghe.

He unwittingly triggered this subplot early, and because he's still a young adult, he gets stuck in a juvenile puppy form because hellhounds don't reach fully maturity until they're like fifty.

Anyway, this creates something of a pickle for Luo Binghe, because he's legitimately stuck in this form and can't figure out how to change back. This is not part of his plans. He's fleeing from Huan Hua Palace cultivators who are trying to kill him, which they might succeed at because his Heavenly Demon powers don't seem to be working.

He runs right into Shizun, who is on one of his "investigate stuff to forget the depression" field trips with Liu Qingge.

Luo Binghe is fully expecting his righteous Shizun to kill the demonic beast, and has a moment to think that at least that's better than being killed by Huan Hua, before Shizun rescues him instead.

Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, is actually kind of excited. There was a lot of lore in PIDW about how hellhounds can actually make loyal companions if they're trained up from young enough of an age, but finding hellhound puppies would be difficult for anyone who wasn't a demonic nobleman, and most of the "trained" hellhounds just disappeared into the harem as gifts to various demon wives and were never seen or heard from again. No additional information, like the full extent of their abilities or what kind of companions they made beyond "loyal" or anything! A species of demon that could even potentially be domesticated by humans, and it was just left at that?!

Needless to say, Shen Qingqiu's not letting Huan Hua Palace kill this one. This is a rare chance for him to get a cool monster companion!

Although... such a creature might die when Luo Binghe comes to take his revenge.

Well, he'll deal with that when he has a chance. Maybe Shang Qinghua can take it to Mobei Jun or Shen Qingqiu can find another place for it before then. In the meanwhile, at least going back to Qing Jing Peak with him is better than being killed on the spot. He talks Liu Qingge into going along with it (Liu Qingge thinks he's insane but also folds like wet tissue paper), under stipulation that the hellhound's demonic energies are sealed and it gets muzzled before they bring it back with them.

Shen Qingqiu rides with it in a carriage, and feels so bad for the poor doggo looking miserable without his demon powers or even his mouth free that he secretly takes the muzzle back off while Liu Qingge isn't looking.

Luo Binghe is overwhelmed with the mixed sentiments of confusion (doesn't his shizun hate demons? is a Heavenly Demon really so especially repulsive to him?), happiness (he's going home! Shizun found him and is taking him home!), worry (Shizun please do not un-muzzle random demonic beasts just because they look sad!), and some rather embarrassing personal revelations about the appeal of being Shizun's pet. The latter situation worsens exponentially after the first time he gets good boy'd and petted for the first time.

Regardless, Shen Qingqiu does take him back to Qing Jing Peak and settles in to train and observe his new puppy. No one thinks this is precisely a good project but it is a project, and is not for instance "staring blankly into the distance while kneeling in front of a sword mound", so on balance everyone decides they'll just keep an eye on things and make sure the hellhound doesn't maul the peak lord. Lots of "just dropping in for a visits" by a rotating cast of peak lords (they have a schedule).

But the hellhound puppy is a fabulous pet! Actually, Shen Qingqiu thinks it's really remarkable how smart and readily tamed he is? Barely a few days in and he's obediently following Shizun's commands, except for "stay", which he seems to struggle with. He doesn't maul or threaten any of the disciples, only growls at Shang Qinghua sometimes and makes a few aggressive displays at Liu Qingge. The former case is just good taste, and as to the latter, well, clearly the hellhound is sensitive and intelligent, and has a more-than-rudamentary understanding of words spoken to him. He probably remembers that Liu Qingge wanted to kill him when they first met. Shen Qingqiu takes his time soothing his puppy and assuring him that he won't come to any harm, he's perfectly safe on Qing Jing Peak with Shen Qingqiu.

At least, for now.

Although actually, the more Shen Qingqiu thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that Hellhound (sue him, he's not the best with names) would be a perfect companion for Luo Binghe once he gets out of the Abyss. The only difficulty would be in how to convince Binghe to accept him, and also how to keep his now-loyal hound from trying to defend his master when justice comes due. Shen Qingqiu figures he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it, and in the meanwhile takes some time to explain to Hellhound about his disciple, Luo Binghe, who is enduring a terrible trial in the Abyss, but who will return one day having become Emperor of the Demon Realms and could probably use a steadfast and intelligent companion who is interested in more than just his incredible amounts of power or irresistible good looks.

Luo Binghe Himself: ?!?!?!

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #long post #lbh: either shizun doesn't know it's me and I have badly misunderstood his intentions in throwing me into the abyss #or shizun DOES know it's me and is lying but also letting me lick his face and sleep on his bed #...much to think about

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matan4il · 3 days

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I’m muslim but I’m upset with the free Palestine movement especially as a woman. they are only making it worse for Muslim women subject to governments which are misusing the teachings of the Quran. they do not care even about Uyghur or Rohingya Muslims

I'm a day late, but I hope it's still okay to wish you Jumaat Mubaraka, lovely Nonnie! *hugs*

I feel you. A few years ago, I took a course and ended up becoming friends with the lady who happened to choose the seat next to me. She's a Muslim Israeli Arab woman. She had the audacity of divorcing her husband. She has a son who came out as gay, and she had the audacity to accept him as he is. Under Hamas or the Palestinian Authority's rule, she could be severely punished socially for either. Worse, her son would likely be terrified for his life, and might have ended up like one of my gay Palestinian friends, who have been forced into heterosexual marriages because the threat to their lives was so great. Instead, her son lives in Tel Aviv, is openly gay, and is an advocate for both the State of Israel and gay Israeli Arabs and Palestinians. She's an advocate for the State of Israel and Israeli Arab Muslim women. She gets to speak and be heard because she's an Israeli citizen. And it's not by chance that she is one. Her family made a choice in 1948, to stand by the Jews, rather than join the Arab attack on them. She once opened the Quran, showed me a specific surah, and told me, "This is why I know that as a Muslim, I must love the Jews, and stand by their state."

She has her own agency in choosing her position on the State of Israel, she has her well being, her son's, and that of many other Israeli Muslim Arab women and gay people to consider, and the anti-Israel crowd doesn't care about any of that. She's just an obstacle standing in the way of the narrative they've chosen, she shows reality is more complex than the black and white framing they embraced, which allows them to openly hate Jews while inflating their own egos, as if they're being righteous.

Not to mention coming up with ridiculous stuff like, "Palestinian men beat their wives because of the Israeli occupation!" This is honestly one of the dumbest things I've ever heard, only topped by "Israel is using cow/dolphin spies." But think of the practical implication. It means as long as Israel exists, no one's gonna hold Palestinian men accountable for the violence they're committing against their own wives. It's a betrayal of Palestinian women, all supposedly in the name of helping Palestinian nationalism.

youtube

(on top of the criticism voiced by UN Watch, it's insane how one of the speakers blaming domestic violence against Palestinian women on Israel is the UN representative of "Etat de Palestine," state of Palestine... What an easy way to avoid a state's duty to protect the women living under its rule from any and all violence, including domestic! If you're an independent state, and deserve recognition from the world, then you also have the responsibility to tackle domestic violence. If you're not independent, then why are you demanding to be recognized as such?)

And yes, the lack of care for actual Israeli Arabs and Palestinians is what I often talk about, but you're right that the damage caused by the anti-Israel crowd is bigger than just to Jews, Israeli Arabs, and Palestinians. Holding up an Islamist cause, backing up the Islamist movement and showing them how the west can be easily won, this will only serve to harm more people. Including Muslims who are more vulnerable to human rights abuses, like women and gay people.

In the vid above, as another example, the UN Watch speaker asks the UN to compare the data on domestic violence suffered by Palestinian women, to that suffered by Jordanian, Lebanese, Egyptian women and so on... Maybe if they couldn't use Israel as their punching bag, they'd have to look at domestic violence against women in the whole region, and actually do something about it. But nah, it's easier to write off Israel as the guilty party when it comes to Palestinian domestic violence, and pretend like that's the only place in the entire Middle East where this violence stands out as an issue. And that's before we talk about observing the levels of anti-women violence in non-Arab Muslim countries, such as Iran, where the government itself has imprisoned and even killed women for not wearing a hijab correctly. This is a betrayal of Muslim women at large.

And in addition to all that, like you said, this crowd also doesn't give a shit about the Muslims being persecuted in any conflict that doesn't allow the blame to be laid on the 'evil Jews.' Even when the numbers targeted are much greater, and the scope of abuse far more severe.

Thank you for the ask, and I hope you're okay! I hope the world cares more about Muslim women, rather than posturing as if it does, but only when it can be used against Jews. xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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brabblesblog · 5 months

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Ch 2: Whither is thy beloved turned aside?

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

The invitation to the Withers’ party arrives at the Crimson Palace during a ball. Astarion allows her to go, with some caveats. Angst and smut.

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

The invitation could not have come at a worse time for Astarion. They read it after the party, as the last of the guests prepared to depart.

He glanced at Ban, who was still staring at the letter. She looked a little lost, and he immediately knew she wished to go. If it had been up to him, the letter would have been tossed into the fireplace immediately. Seeing them, his old friends, would be an unwelcome reminder of who he’d been. He knew they preferred that Astarion: weak, someone who acquiesced to their wishes - with snide words, perhaps, but nary a protest. They had all slowly stopped talking to him after the rite. Not that he cared, he reminded himself; he needed no one other than his consort.

“So.” He broke the silence, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne. She was perched on his lap, still staring at the parchment, as if she hadn't heard him. He hated being ignored. Especially by her.

His hand slid down to grip her muscled thigh, squeezing a little harder than he normally would, aiming to draw her attention back to him. Ban’s eyes flicked up in surprise, then settled back into that detached expression she usually wore when talking to him in the presence of others.

“Yes, my lord?” she said mechanically. There were still some guests mingling in the ballroom, so she maintained the decorum befitting the Ascendant’s consort.

“If you wish to go to the reunion, pet…” he said, weighing it even as he spoke. He’d let her go. As much as he disliked the idea, she’d probably be delighted. But there was no way he'd let her out of his sight, especially not across that sort of distance. And especially not around the people who knew him before - people who had less than stellar opinions about his improved self.

“I would be glad to accompany you,” he drawled, masking the amount of time it actually took for him to decide. He stretched his legs as he spoke, as if it was a trivial matter and he’d decided on a whim.

He knew she exchanged letters with them, and it had never bothered him before. It did well to give her entertainment in between their work and overseeing the renovation of the palace. None of them had paid her a visit, however, and he found himself glad of it. Gods forbid they came and tracked mud on his carpets, touched his furniture with grubby hands, or worse - spewed supercilious, self-righteous drivel.

Ban put the parchment down. She was dressed in a tight dress with thigh slits that went up all the way to her hips, revealing the long, hard planes of her thighs. Astarion had chosen it, of course. It reminded him of the one she used to wear, the one that was given to them by Umberlee’s priestesses. His hand moved higher, rucking the dress up several inches, letting his greedy lust take over momentarily.

“We can go, pet, if you’ll let me have a little more than I usually get tonight,” he purred.

Ban nodded. Of course he’d ask for something in return. But this opportunity was far too important to pass up, especially after Gale’s most recent letter.

I may have come across some information that might be useful to you, he’d written. I shall look into it further and will update you soon.

“What… more… would you want to have?” she asked. Her pulse picked up slightly in apprehension, but also arousal. He could ask for anything, really, and if she were to deny him or push him too far, she worried it might finally be when he chose to compel her. And yet her body still responded to his words, to the mere idea of what he might ask for tonight. Still her beloved, even as they stood in the ruins of what they had built.

“I’ll let you know when we’re there.” He gave her haunch a light slap, indicating she should stand. She did, and he headed into the thinning crowd to see off the last of the guests.

She watched him go, his sharp figure cutting across the ballroom gracefully. As was their protocol during events like these, she headed for the doors, seeing the guests out and thanking them as they slowly ambled out of the palace. Her face felt tight, her smile too stiff. No one noticed. To them, she was simply the Ascendant’s plaything. No one was aware of exactly how much she contributed to his endeavors - just the way Astarion preferred it.

Before long, the ballroom was empty, and Ban headed back to their shared bedroom. The moment she opened the door he was upon her, his clothing already discarded on the floor. He growled as he pushed her against the wall.

“I have been wanting, my love. Waiting all night. I wanted to take you right in front of everyone,” he hissed against her ear, hands greedily grabbing every square inch of bare skin he could reach.

Ban arched her neck, moaning when he spoke. It was well-rehearsed and well-executed, and he usually bought it - or at least found it sufficient. Tonight, however, he did not. He drew back, arms on either side of her face, caging her against the wall.

The eyes boring into hers were as hungry and feral as ever, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. His erection stood proudly out from his abdomen, but he made no move just yet.

Ban eyed him warily, tonight’s discussion on her mind. She braced herself. “What did you want then, Astarion?”

As she said this, she slowly began to move to her knees. It was a pretty good guess; he did seem to like her in that position, to remind her who exactly was in charge. But she immediately realized it couldn’t be this. This was… normal, and he had asked for more.

Astarion’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, helping her back up. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Not that.”

Instead, he pressed closer. When he cupped her cheek, it was surprisingly, achingly tender. He pursed his lips, a small moment of uncertainty passing over his features.

“Love me,” he said, and it was a challenge. “You have not done that in so long, my treasure. Love me.”

It was one of those rare moments when he acknowledged that things had changed. She didn’t answer, but neither did she flinch. And he took that as his cue.

Hot, searing lips met Ban’s, yet another reminder that he was different. His free hand took hers and placed it flush over his heart. In the wilds, his slow, undead heartbeat had been a source of comfort to her; she had lain against it, listening to it night after night. Now it pounded and raced, something it had been incapable of before. She fought down the urge to draw her hand back.

“You haven’t done that in ages,” Astarion whispered as he broke the kiss. For a split second, he looked at her with desperate, longing eyes, but she missed it, her own eyes closed. “You haven’t listened to my heart, haven’t felt it beat for you. You used to,” he hissed, and there was anger there.

Did she prefer it when it was slow and abnormal? Did she prefer it to this one - strong, racing, living? It hurt him to think about it. Gods, it hurt him to think of before. The hand on her cheek tightened for the briefest moment, but he mastered himself. No.

“I need it again, Ban. If only for tonight.”

The words were a plea. Laced with demand, yes, but a plea nonetheless. His voice threatened to crack at the end of his sentence.

Ban exhaled roughly at his words. She was torn; a part of her wanted him to know exactly how to make her love him the way she used to. The other, larger part of her merely wished to pretend and get it over with.

“I love you,” she countered, “always have. Forevermore will.”

And that was the truth; for however changed and twisted he’d become, she would always harbor feelings for him.

Astarion wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. It was a far cry from the time they’d slept together in the clearing, when he had hopped into her arms. He carried her to the four-poster bed effortlessly, setting her down on her back. He climbed over her, kissing his way up from her abdomen to her throat.

“You do?” the Ascendant said quietly. Inside, he was pained; he knew this to be largely true, but that resignation was there. That distance. Part of him wondered if that was the actual price of ascension.

Part of him thought that had he known, he would have refused it.

He kissed her throat, hiding his face. He let a growl escape him, let his hands grab her wrists and pin them above her head. He was not, would not, be weak. He wasn’t that mewling cur. Not anymore.

He had ascended. Now he must pay the price.

He brought a hand down to cup her breast. She whimpered when he gripped her wrists a little too tightly, and he instantly eased his grasp, sensing her discomfort. He lifted his head from her neck to watch her face. She had her eyes squeezed shut, face turned to the side to give him access to her throat. It was as if she was in the act of turning away from him.

How pathetic, he thought. I’m the king of my own little kingdom, and I feel as if I have lost everything.

But the Ascendant refused to let these thoughts rule his deeds. Vulnerability was something he had cleansed from himself. He released her wrists, his hands deftly undoing her dress. She shifted to help him strip it off of her.

As they finished, she finally spoke up.

“Yes, I do,” she said carefully, her face guarded and neutral. “I have loved you from the day I first laid eyes on you.”

And what a stupid godsdamned idea that had been.

Astarion wanted to push her, to force her to admit that the love they shared had been changed. By her. Because she wouldn't accept what he was. Because everything he’d given her - riches, power, sex - wasn't enough. Because she wanted the one thing he could not provide - doing so would pave the way for the ghosts of who they used to be. So he’d force them both to settle for this farce.

“And I love you, my dearest consort,” he said thickly, letting it go. He crawled his way back to her, settling his head between her legs. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her muscles tighten under his lips.

“I am nothing without you,” he whispered, and they both knew it to be painfully true.

He sunk his teeth into her thigh.

It wasn’t horribly painful, and Ban forced her leg to stop twitching. She watched her lord suckle at the wounds, his fingers gently making their way to her mound and finding her clit. He thumbed a soft, circular pattern he’d mastered long ago. Licking off the last of the blood, he met her gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. The sanguine hunger had been cured in the ascension, but he still craved her blood, simply because it was a part of her.

One dark, hungry look was all the warning he gave before he spread her folds and dove in, his tongue lapping needily at her core.

Ban hissed at the sudden warmth of his tongue, growing wet almost instantly. Sex may have lost most of its passion, but that didn’t mean there was none, or that it wasn’t enjoyable. Astarion was still Astarion, after all.

What Ban worried most about were his thoughts during the act. Did he still dissociate? They had been sleeping together almost every night since the rite, at his behest, but she had never dared ask. Before the rite, he’d finally been able to let her touch him, and even still it had been fraught. It was one of those topics she worried would hurt his ego and remind him of his past.

But Astarion was incredibly present; had been for some time now. He’d vowed to erase his past, and that had included the damage done by the parade of bodies he’d had to lie with. There’d been a learning curve, but it hadn’t been too difficult. Being in the moment was no longer challenging, not something he had to work at. Not when there was no longer anything to fear. He was the master now: he took what he wanted, in the time he wanted and in the manner he wished it to be.

And of course, because it was her. His Ban, the only one he’d ever allow to touch him, see him, know him this way, and she was the strongest balm of all. He knew he would be likely to relapse if they invited others to their bed - that shared event in Sharess’ Caress had proved as much - but alone with her, in his palace? Surrounded by everything that was his? It was effortless to be present in the moment.

He licked at her clit eagerly, alternating soft, feather-light touches with longer, harder laps. Then he wrapped his lips around it, letting his teeth graze her bud gently. He was rewarded with a low whimper and he chuckled darkly, satisfied. As broken as their love was, at least he knew he was still able to bring her to the heights of ecstasy. He snaked a hand down, palming his cock, grinding into his fist and the bed.

He licked her a bit more, bringing her close to peak, and then slowly slithered up her body. He met her gaze and saw a mix of lust, love, and that ever-present and all-encompassing resignation.

“Let me make love to you?” His tone was gentle and a little uncertain. He disliked the way it had slipped out of him, but found her reaction - surprise and… hope - well worth it. He figured that if he wanted her to at least pretend to truly love him tonight, then he may as well give her something to work with.

She gulped, the facade broken. “Yes, Astarion. Just like before.”

At any other time that would have enraged him, but his need to feel her love was too great tonight. He bit back a retort, watching her face as he stroked his cock a few more times before lining up and slowly sinking into her wet heat.

As she watched him slide into her, a small thought occurred to her: there’d never been a time they’d made love without something being off. The first two times they’d been together, he had been manipulating her. Their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands and even those final days before the rite had been filled with exploration, but also with worry. His ability to enjoy intimacy had still been fraught with setbacks. Every time after that had been after he’d changed. It was ironic, she mused bitterly, that the closest they’d gotten to healthy sex had been him seducing her for protection.

And then all thought was quickly chased away by the sensation of his cock burying deep inside her.

Astarion began thrusting. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ban’s pained expression. He needed to think of her as she’d been, laughing as they made love - that genuine joy in simply being with him. He imagined her in the clearing, wincing a little as he remembered uncharitably thinking her gullible. Shifting course, he brought forth memories of their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands, when they had finally started something real and stopped having sex, but had found other ways to be intimate. When he would touch her, make her come undone, and she would look at him like the sun rose in his eyes. Those, he realized belatedly, were the happiest moments of his cursed existence.

He would give almost anything to see that again. Almost.

He rarely allowed himself to think of the past, but tonight was an exception. He’d asked her to love him again for one night, and so he indulged himself. He thrust faster, driven by his memories, trying to use his body to love her broken pieces back together; trying to give her what he couldn’t back then.

Ban noticed, saw Astarion’s eyes were closed. He was usually very visually greedy, eyes eating up her every reaction as he fucked her senseless, but tonight he seemed like his old self. His thrusts were hard, but with the intention to give, angling himself so that he hit her spot with every pass. She felt tenderness breaking through her apathy and was unable to stem the flow. She couldn’t help it; she stroked his cheek, surprised when he whimpered in response.

His eyes remained shut, but his face was less pained. “Stay with me,” he said, his tone entirely different. It was softer, more earnest. “Just like this, forevermore.”

“I will, if you stay like this too.” It wasn’t a demand, rather a plea. A prayer, one she hoped her Astarion could answer from across time and whatever distance now separated them.

They were both nearing their peak, Astarion thrusting as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. He shook his head at her words, an agonized expression on his face. In those few moments he’d stolen from the Ascendant, he wanted to grant her wish. But he knew once he came, he wouldn’t be able to.

He would have to be the Ascendant again when the dawn breaks, and the Ascendant refused to be that spawn - refused to be anything that man was. The spawn could only ever be allowed to surface in the dark of night, between silken sheets and whispered words; a secret the Ascendant could not allow her to see.

And if that broke her heart, well, the Ascendant could live with that. She’d still be here, and they could both continue the dance they knew all too well.

Ban decided to try again. It was a risk, and she feared being compelled, but if there had ever been a moment in the past six months that it could work, it would be this one.

“I would stay. If you let me be free, Astarion, I would st-”

“No!”

His eyes flew open, the moment evaporating instantly. Freedom? What? So she could run away from him? So he would be left with absolutely nothing, a wretched creature in far worse misery than he’d been in as a spawn? No. She could not be freed.

For a split second, he wished he’d made her into what he was under Cazador. But the thought was instantly swallowed by disgust and self-loathing. No. He would never.

But she couldn’t know.

Ban deflated at his outburst, the resignation returning to her eyes as she nodded. “Fine. For tonight, though, I can.”

He’d settle for that.

The Ascendant closed his eyes again, hips resuming their movement. He wanted to drown in his memories again, and so he let his mind fill with them, let his mind be caught in their current, allowing them to drag him under.

Her, laughing at some silly prank he’d pulled. Her in their tent, coming undone as his fingers touched her and his lips kissed her. Her, telling him she loved him for the first time, but not asking for anything in return.

The power of that final memory unraveled him. His climax washed over him, and the low whine that escaped his lips sounded nothing like the Ascendant. It was in that moment that his mind inadvertently reached for his creation - his bride.

They both gasped at the contact. He tried, frantically, to stem the flow of thoughts, and was mostly successful. Only one slipped through to her, the one which brought him to his peak.

He was reading a book while she rested on his chest, part of their usual nighttime routine. He looked down at her, brushing back a lock of her hair.

“You should sleep,” he said. “If we’re going to push for the nightsong tomorrow, you’ll need all your strength.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded. Tomorrow could decide the fate of the Shadow-Cursed lands, and she did need rest.

“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Just in case things go wrong tomorrow.” Her hand splayed over his chest, and his undead heart sped up at the contact. He smiled.

“Once this is all done, darling, you’ll have eternity with me. I promise you that. As for tomorrow, we’ll be fine. I've got you,” he assured her lightly, miming shooting his twin crossbows.

Ban laughed, and her next words came forth unbidden.

“I love you, Astarion. You don’t ever have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

The memory washed over Ban and she felt the wild, intense surprise, the joy he’d felt at her words. The strength of his remembered elation stole her breath, and she stared at Astarion in shock. When the alien presence of his mind had entered hers, she’d thought he was finally going to bend her to his will. She had been prepared to fight. Instead, she’d seen this memory, one she had thought rejected by him.

Was he thinking about that? Was that on his mind as he came?

Astarion jerked back quickly, feeling threatened by this sudden, unwanted vulnerability, and much like a cornered animal, his only recourse was to lash out.

“How dare you,” he hissed. “You ask for freedom, but invade my mind. Look at me.”

He grabbed her by the jaw, turning her to face him. He was aware that it had been his mind that had reached out for hers; she didn’t even know such a thing was possible. But his need to never show weakness was too great. Indignation won out; he took umbrage at this evidence that she could coax that sort of softness from him still, that even the Ascendant could be swayed by her love.

”You will never be free. You understand? Everyone - everything you need is here. In. This. Palace.” He let go of her, his chest heaving. Tears threatened to prick his eyes but he refused to consider why, holding them back by sheer force of will.

“You’ve done as I asked. We will go to the reunion. And then you’ll see,” he sneered, “exactly how pathetic the past was, compared to now.”

With those venomous words, he turned away from her. He missed the determined gleam in her eye, the one that he used to find so vexing and yet so alluring, the one that had never failed to charm him.

Later that night, whilst the Ascendant was in trance, his creation began to prepare a bag. She packed her old armor and weapons from their adventure. In the morning, she would say that she was giving them to Karlach for her battles in Avernus.

And he would believe it, because he’d forgotten her strength, forgotten the stubborn determination that had lured him to her in the first place. He’d believe it because he would be there, watching her. Because he, in his insistence on keeping her a caged bird, had forgotten what she was capable of.

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15-lizards · 6 months

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Thinking more about Patron Saints in ASOIAF so I decided to make a list of some of the big ones and their patronages pls enjoy ✨

Jaehaerys- yeah yeah I know take it up with The Faith. He’s the Saint of Truth, and liked how Catholic Saints intercede for God, he intercede for the Father. He’s patronage includes kings, lawmakers, and honorable men.

Septa Magelle- She’s the Saint of Sacrifice and Kindness, a favorite in the motherhouses. She’s the patron of girls, septas, the sick, and the poor. Intercedes on behalf of the Maiden. Inspired by Saint Agnes of Bohemia

Septon Barth- Saint of wisdom. He’s the guy for septons that secretly wanted to be maesters. Patron of both secular knowledge and religious knowledge, begging brothers, the illiterate, and the common folk

Naerys- Saint of Piety. Another favorite of septas, spinsters, and suffering wives. Patron of young brides, abused wives, virgins, and children. Inspired by Saint Agnes of Rome

Criston Cole- Saint of Honor. Usually pictured with Alicent. Every squire with a has a weird complex about loyalty chooses him. Patron of armies, knights, and loyal soldiers. Inspired by Saint Sebastian (obviously)

Hugor of the Hill- Saint of Glory. Particularly loved by the major lords and other guys with big egos. Patron of leaders, prophets, the bold, and nobility. Not really picked a lot bc not many ppl see themselves as worthy.

Baelor- Saint of Righteousness. Every septon in training with a stick up his ass always chooses him. Another patron of septons, holy men, ascetics, and missionaries. Inspired by St. Paul the Apostle

Alicent- Saint of Duty. Often portrayed with Criston. Patron of mothers, righteous women, and dutiful wives. Ascended to sainthood after her death after Oldtown not so subtly forced the High Septon to do it.

#asoiaf #lame as fuck that George just did diet Catholicism and refused to elaborate #so here’s my two cents

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suratan-zir · 1 year

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I've never been this close to leaving tumblr forever than I am now. Y'all are so humanistic, so righteous and merciful, when it's not your country that is being bombed into the stone age, not your people tortured, executed, shot and thrown into a mass grave with their hands tied simply for being citizens of a certain country, speaking a certain language. Not your babies being torn apart by missiles, buried under rubble. Not your relatives held in one of the many torture dungeons, being electrocuted through wires attached to their genitals. Not your houses leveled down, burned with everything inside, every little thing you loved or cared for.

Hell, we can even tone it down a notch. It's not you who is being left without electricity and water, without heating in winter, because it's not you who russia is trying to beat/freeze into submission. It's not you going to bed to the sound of an air raid siren and wondering if you'll wake up tomorrow. It's not you receiving insults, slurs and threats from russians. No, they probably don't have any problem with you, but even if they do, luckily for you, you don't speak russian. Because if you did, you could go to literally any place they hang out, any voice or text chat, any social media and ask them yourself. If only you'd spoke Russian, you could ask them what they think about the genocide carried out by their country, their people. And then you wouldn't have any more questions. Then you wouldn't dare to say it's "racist" to call russians what they are - murderers, thieves and their accomplices.

I never said that all russians support this war, this genocide. And I will never say it, it's just statistically impossible. But many of them do, and another large portion simply doesn't care, which in my opinion is even worse. I have less disgust and hatred for russians who say: "go-go pootin, all khokhols must die", then to those who mumble: "I'm not into politics". Because you can't afford to stay neutral and passive when your country is trying to obliterate an entire nation.

You know, those missiles that kill our people and destroy our infrastructure, they are launched from "peaceful" russian cities. Warplanes that fly to kill us fly - they fly over the heads of the "innocent" russians, who are filming it on their phones and cheering on. The only times they would be sad or pissed about it is when those planes suddenly crush on their homes. Or when something flies into their city in exchange for those missiles that flew out of there. This is when they get mad and demand to kill us more effectively.

Lately we are seeing many protests from the mothers and wives of those "poor" russian men who have been drafted into army. Do you know what they are protesting against? Of course you don't, because you don't speak russian, you don't care enough to find out. No, they aren't protesting against the war, genocide, bombings of cities of a neighboring country. They don't demand for the war to end. They demand that their sons and husbands not be sent to the very front line, they demand that they be placed on the 2-3 line of defense, where it is safe. Or they demand better equipment for their men, again, to kill the citizens of a neighboring country more effectively. Because they are not against the genocide, they just don't want their men to hurt during it. Those of us who understand russian language don't need to look at any polls and statistics. We can just ask them ourselves, and we hear their responds very clearly. Even from our own relatives who live in russia or from our former friends. And I wouldn't wish this horrible realization on anyone. Now there are more and more russians who don't support this war. Because they are losing it. They would have absolutely no problem with it if they could "take Kyiv in two days" as was planned. But now they have regrets.

I'm not asking you to blame and ostracize all russians. That's not the point I'm making here. But maybe - just maybe - you can't forgive people for things they didn't do to you? Maybe you can't be forgiving on behalf of others? If you live somewhere in the US, the russians can never harm you, your city will not be bombed, your relatives won't be kidnapped and tortured. Of course you don't hate them, of course you don't condemn them - it's not because you are morally superior - it's because you literally don't have to suffer from their aggression, either physical nor verbal. Your life isn't constantly endangered because of this particular country and people. Of course you can forgive and defend them all you want, and pat yourself on the head afterwards. Such a nice kind human being you are, not at all insensitive.

It's not like there are people who lost their homes, their loved ones. People living under constant shelling, without power and heat, people who survive day after day against all odds. But those people aren't as merciful as you. Only you are the beacon of humanism in this unfair world, good for you.

#ukraine

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 3 months

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Théoden rant incoming:

It is and always will be absolutely inexplicable to me that Tolkien makes Théoden a kindly and loving uncle and friend and king and ally but an apathetic and insensitive father who doesn’t seem to care about the death of his own son.

We aren’t there when Théoden is informed of Théodred’s death, so who knows how that went. But even if he grieved then, it is WEIRD that he basically never speaks of Théodred again or shows any emotion about him, even in scenarios where he’s directly prompted to.

When—only days after his death, mind you—they ride right through the place where Théodred was killed and buried, Théoden has no reaction. He laments the general loss of men in the battle but doesn’t acknowledge that his own son was among them, and he expresses no interest in looking on his son’s grave. Then they arrive at Isengard and Théoden says he wants to confront Saruman for having done him so much wrong and you think, “Yes! Finally! Tear that old wizard a new one for having murdered your only child!” But again he…doesn’t. He registers a number of righteous complaints (ravaging of the Westfold, killing and maiming of Háma, etc.) but not one of them is about Théodred. The murder of his son just days ago is absent entirely from Théoden’s list of grievances.

It’s not like Tolkien makes up for this silence by giving us ANY indication that Théoden is just too overcome by emotion to speak about Théodred. And it’s not like Tolkien just dropped the narrative thread and forgot about Théodred entirely, because Éomer brings him up (this is why we love Éomer) and reminds (!) Théoden that Saruman killed him. And yet Théoden still says and does nothing about it! So it was a CHOICE to make Théoden seem unfeeling and cold here. And I just don’t get it, because that’s obviously not what Tolkien was going for with the character over all. And it serves no narrative purpose. So why not just toss in a sentence or two to prove that Théoden isn’t a monster about his own son’s death???

(I've seen it suggested that Tolkien is trying to reflect Anglo-Saxon tradition--in which kings sometimes or often preferred their sisters' sons to their own sons because they knew for sure that the sisters' sons were blood relatives and couldn't always say the same of their own sons if they didn't trust their wives--but this...does not reflect any better on Théoden if it's true.)

Ok, rant over. Let’s all palate cleanse with the face of a father who actually did love his son and grieve his loss because PJ understood that this is IMPORTANT:

#lord of the rings #lotr #tolkien #eomer #éomer #théodred #theodred #théoden #theoden #rohan #tolkien really did théoden dirty on this #have some decency sir #and let the man grieve for his only child

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masculinepeacock · 1 year

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goddess given righteous anger

Touching Spirit Bear, Ben Mikaelson // Deluge: 'Questions directed toward the idea of Mary', Leila Chatti // @braveburattino // How to Cure a Ghost; 'after the loss, take two', Fariha Róisín // Show Your Fangs, The Crane Wives // @dateamonster // Medea, Euripides // Ziegfield Follies // The Myth of Devotion, Louise Glück // In the Dream House, Carmen Maria Machado

[Image Description: A series of quotes and images combined. 1: "People change two ways - with slow persistent pressure, or with a single and sudden traumatic experience." 2: "And how long before you realized (did you realize?) shame was a blade / you turned against yourself?" 3: Art of a deer with a skull for it's head, with smoke billowing out of it, the horse's mouth is open. The deer is rearing back on it's hooves and there are hills and trees all around it, the deer and smoke are white and everything else is red. The left antler is partially red. 4: "how do i ask to be saved in a world like this? a mysterious bruise, all splotchy, wanting so badly to heal". 5: "With malice, beasts will show their fangs They're in for a surprise Bravely I will wield my weapon I made from fangs of those that died". 6: A tumblr post that reads, "girl transformed by monstrous adolescence x girl killed off by the narrative for having too much sex". 7: "CHORUS LEADER: You would become the wretchedest of women. MEDEA: Then let it be." 8: A photo of Hedy Lamarr in Ziegfield Follies. 9: "because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness" 10: " 'I had a room to myself as a kid, but my mother was always quick to point out that it wasn't my room, it was her room and I was merely permitted to occupy it. Her point, of course, was that my parents had earned everything and I was merely borrowing the space, and while this is technically true I cannot help but marvel at the singular damage of this dark idea: That was my existence as a child was a kind of debt and nothing, no matter how small, was mine. That no space was truly private; anything of mine could be forfeited at someone else's whim.' " /end ID]

#divine tag #she's my fucked up babygirl #she's a paladin now!!!#c: lost township #dnd #beatrice.txt

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filmnoirsbian · 1 year

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Favorite books read in 2022

Fiction:

The Bread We Eat in Dreams by Catherynne M. Valente

The Trojan Women: A Comic by Anne Carson and Rosanna Bruno

Cherry by Nico Walker

The Seas by Samantha Hunt

The King Must Die by Mary Renault

Wolf in White Van by John Darnielle

Q & A by Vikas Swarup

My Heart is A Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica

Engine Summer by John Crowley

DMZ by Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli

Cassandra by Christa Wolf

Reprieve by James Han Mattson

The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin

Eternals by Kieron Gillen and Esad Ribić

Non fiction:

The Girl in the Picture: the Story of Kim Phuc, the Photograph, and the Vietnam War by Denise Chong

The Tomb of Agamemnon by Cathy Gere

A Righteous Smokescreen: Postwar America and the Politics of Cultural Globalization by Sam Lebovic

I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection by Susan Stewart

Men, Women and Chain Saws by Carol J. Clover

Atomic Habits by James Clear

Plays:

Next to Normal by Brian Yorkey

H of H Playbook by Anne Carson

Los Reyes by Julio Cortázar translated by Juan Sabastian de Vivo

Girl on an Altar by Marina Carr

Agamemnon by Aeschylus translated by Ted Hughes

#tcp #an open window #plays #i did not read many non fiction books last year unfortunately. i shall rectify that this year.

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analviel · 7 months

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I see a lot of examination and discussion of how Shen Jiu had the setting/backstory of a protagonist, could've been a protagonist if not for a twist of fate, and in a way his shape is still a protagonist when SY literally piloted his body- but not. (I think we all get hung up a lot bcs he didn't become protag like he deserves but he also didn't become a full on villain, who's still a protag of his own story, but just a scum villain because of the misunderstanding, somewhere along the way something happened and held him back in that in-between place, unable to tip over completely one way or another.)

It's often brought up that he's undergone his own blackening into a scum villain and I think about that a lot, but you know, his settings never actually trailed off too far from the protagonist setting, with the 'from the lowest to the highest' template- idk if that makes sense, but anyways, I of course have read more than my fair share of fix-its, but often, if not always, it's a time travel scenario.

But WHAT IF:

But what if Shen Jiu, rather than swallowing the shards of Xuan Su, uses it to cut himself free of the immortal binding ropes or whatever is stopping his qi. Which is not LBH's parasite blood I don't think they have that ability but whatever. I mean, you'd ask how would he, without arms and legs, escape? A nifty thing we're all familiar with called author's will.

A time when LBH is away to deal with one thing or another, and SJ, after years of lifeless staring, and even more lifeless staring in the aftermath of YQY's death, moves. The thing about not attempting to escape for a long, long time, is that people lower their guards and grows complacent, and it's not as if there's anyone checking up on him to see if he's eating meals or whatever, LBH is more than happy to get suggestions from his wives for torture ideas but was very controlling of who gets to inflict it (Xuan Su was just left there and he did manage to swallow it). So Shen Jiu, with only Xuan Su's blade and it's inherent property as a spirit sword, not even an active one which means on one hand there's no active qi in it but the latent one from its materials, and on the other hand it's not bound to anyone and was more malleable, whatever. ANYWAYS. Skip.

Shen Jiu knowing of one thing or another, or several things that's a combination of common healing theory, rarer healing practices, less than righteous surgery techniques, equals bastardized body repair and ends with him frankensteining himself with some shaky qi threads. The needle is a piece of Xuan Su. He doesn't blink bcs his pain receptors are no more.

Scenario A.) I want SJ to play the 'mysterious wandering protag with a mysterious dark past and a mission for vengeance', only wanting to kill LBH before planning to retire from existance himself and he goes with his cool and angsty scarred body that he'd DIY'ed. The blood parasites are solved by something ruthlessly self-destructive only someone with SJ's coldness and lack of actual desire to continue breathing would do without even some initial testing. This would be done quick and dirty to keep LBH from teacking him. OR/AND

Scenario B.) I say or-slash-and because the scenario A could be cut off or maybe they could be combined. The handy dandy sun and moon dew!!! Plant it, grow it, kill himself, and recover his full potential all those years ago! Of course this would take quite a while, so he might need scenario A anyways. And conveniently enough, it puts him in the path of....... dun dun dun ZUZHI-LANG!!! And TLJ by proxy. Allies get! Maybe! Because TLJ wants to kill the sects, right? But his son did it here for him, so maybe he wouldn't bother anymore. Or maybe it's not enough bcs he hadn't killed all of everyone, so let daddy fix that right up. Or/and, LBH feels threatened and threatens in proper blackened protg manner and TLJ threatens back and flat out stomps him.

So. Maybe!

To expand on the rest of the Jianghu, the other 4 Peak Lords we know are alive, SQH, QQQ, WQW, and MQF. Bcs we don't have definite details on the timeline of PIDW, we can conveniently fill in space, put a lot of cause and effect, the cultivator world is in an uproar by the reveal that LBH is a demon (it's not as if they were okay with that, duh, if they'd known he was a demon, SJ's actions would've been treated as the only logical thing to do) and YQY is dead, AND SQH is a traitor, so that's down two - or rather three with SQQ- influential people, two of which were heavily involved in how everything is run (SQQ, while not actually lazy in his cultivation, was indeed lazy and unmotivated in most tasks that involved coordinating with others).

I really don't think SJ would feel even a little bit betrayed by SQH. To be betrayed you have to trust first, and his whole thing was that he never trusted anyone from CQMS. For SJ, SQH didn't betray them so much as his loyalty just belonged to another. Still would kill the rat next time he sees him tho (spoiler alert, he doesn't, kill him that is, but he does see him eventually).

So, I'm of the belief that Airplane's drafts included the Peak Lords as big boss too, where TLJ is the big boss of the demonic realm, they're the ones for the cultivation world, and my headcanon is that they were purposely met with sudden deaths one way or another in PIDW, and none actually died in a straight up fight, which is on brand with LQG's deviation, SQQ's trial, and YQY's thousand arrows (that I say are one of those bullshit golden finger artifacts of PIDW, maybe something like 'heavenly damned arrows of a thousand rays' that always flies true to it's target and could seal rare level pokemon rip-offs beasts for every single one. No reason that they would be normal p arrows, really). SQH might have fought or just been completely taken off guard by his lord killing him out of the blue with no chance to wriggle out. But Like QQQ was backstabbed. WQW was poisoned. MQF sacrificed himself for a beloved disciple (and that's why WQW died because he set out to find his martial brother but didn't know he'd already died. Awww).

(connected to another headcanon, the other five unnamed Peak Lords died long ago in the first battle against TLJ when he was sealed)

These people were meant to be a team. Or at least a set.

So SJ goes on an epic quest of getting power to kill his Qi-ge's killer via sun and moon dew possibly while he gets his tactician brain creating up something to kill LBH (OP characters are not killed in straight up fights, as we've learned, they're tricked or betrayed) and accidentally finding and gathering his siblings who, at that point, happen to have become guardians of havens and refuge communities in pockets of the world that holds the remnants of cultivator and human realm, where the demonic forces have spread far and wide in every realm. It's initially written to later, eventually be conquered by LBH. For example there's a hidden cave passage that leads you to Mu Qingfang's hidey hole, a pocket dimension with much rural fantasy aesthetic, housing parients and normal mortals with farms and houses woven to giant trees. Wei Qingwei is found underground creating weapons and defenses day in and day out to source to QQQ and MQF. Qi Qingqi with her armies always on the move, squads spread out in the realms, resisting against the demonic forces, helping Mu Qingfang rescue stragglers, from her old fairycore ensemble shifting to dragoncore, rarely resting with her inedia in the hollow of a mountain.

(xianxia aesthetic, whimsical aesthetic, aesthetic aesthetic aesthetic!!!!!!!!).

They..... Well. It's an awkward reunion.

SJ was shocked to meet the first lord sibling he'd seen since his imprisonment, shown only by a slight widened eyes, but emotions quickly gone. His first words is, "Do you wnat to kill the beast?"

He didn't care about the answer, if they said yes, then alright, if they said no, then he'd just walk away.

They say yes. Every one.

So, the rest really depends on how you interpret his relationship with them before the trial.

A). Was it a case of it's exactly what it looked like and they oh so very righteously hated him and he hated them back, a bunch of misunderstandings and not-so misunderstandings building up?

B). Did they have mutual respect and mutual awareness that everyone in the room they hold their PL meetings in were assholes of different flavors? Did they expect Shen Jiu to save himself in the trials, was dissapointed when he didn't but since he didn't give any indication of wanting to be saved, shrugged their shoulders and left him to his life, as they have always poked and snided at each other but always kept away from actually interfering with their lives (no matter how evil they thought the others were, because they may be evil, but they were still siblings and that just meant they had evil martial siblings. Love morally dubious group of PL but still ride and die)?

C). Or maybe they actually had a good relationship consisting of a lot of sharp teasing and reckless verbal and physical lashing and tantrums that you can really only get away with to your siblings, but was twisted by outside perpective?

And, on the way, maybe he learns to form relationships properly, with people that he loved nothing like the all-consuming soul twisting and mutually hurtful and destructive way he dedicated everything to Yue Qingyuan (from his loyalty to his shrivelled love and every hurtful words).

Just. Friends. Family. Siblings.

Imagine SJ eventually wandering off, with a burnt down Peak that would never again beholden him to promises, broken and otherwise. Grieving, yes, but somehow at peace than he'd ever been in. A very long time?

Ming Fan, who'd perhaps been in Qi Qingqi's Fairy Haven (of course that's the name, we've got a theme people) that was the group that consisted of people that bayed for the Emperor's blood or just the more active cultivators (with GYX mayhaps), a loyal disciple reunited with his Shizun. Or mayne he'd been the one to have found SJ as a human stick and helped him get spare body parts.

I imagine in this world, once Luo Binghe is... out of the picture, one way or another, busy dying or busy having an appropriately dramatic amnesia arc for him to develop character development, NYY takes over as the Empress, with her court of demoness and humans, and Harems becomes synonymous to Council. LMY her right hand helping keep everyone in line, who are also partially managed by SHL, who weighted her options and pros and cons and found establishing her position as left hand pretty good for now. The rest can come later. Imagine NYY growing up, not in brute strength bcs that wasn't how she was taught, nor is it her strength, but perhaps in a way that SJ would idly wonder if perhaps he should've endorsed her to Qiong Ding. Not all harem members stay of course, and some had to die. Ning YingYing becomes the First Empress of the age of peace in the unified two realms and first order of business is secure her influence. Second is ban slaves. Third is to encourage a tentative cooperation between humans and demons.

(Additional note: LBH having a protagonist halo doesn't make him unkillable, the death just has to meet several requirements, like being suitably glorious and impactful, and also maybe tragic- ehem killed by his own father or shizun, and seeing his washerwoman mother at his last moments. The protagonist is just another tool to set up the story and evidently, genre change is not impossible.)

(I imagine a confrontation between SJ and LMY early on that goes along the lines of SJ saying, "Wouldn't you know better than most, the thirst for vengeance for a brother's death?)

What if SJ's fix-it comes after PIDW, you know. PIDW being his tragic backstory. A slave who climbed so high despite the past clinging heavy on his shoulders, and then falling down lower than he'd ever been and resolving his issues and then climbing back even higher with more stable footing.

Qiu Haitang, Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge, their Five Unnamed Martial Siblings, Luo Binghe- regrets, and triumphs, all part of his story to mull over whenever he reaches the top of random hills and sets out his tea set. It's a bittersweet plot I like thinking about.

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city-of-ladies · 10 hours

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Women warriors of China (2nd to 6th century CE)

"Warfare defined the age of disunion. Women sometimes had a role in war, and they even undertook certain forms of military service. People respected prowess in the martial arts—in women as well as men—and even empresses and noblewomen honed their skills in horseback riding and archery. For a time, it was fashionable for southern ladies to wear ornaments of gold, silver, ivory, and tortoiseshell in the shape of miniature weapons. People from earlier eras had regarded any female participation in warfare as a gross violation of the fundamental distinction between the sexes. But society had become so thoroughly militarized that it became acceptable for women to have a role in war.

During the Zhou dynasty, the military class of minor aristocrats called shi had been considered a moral elite, and strict ritual rules enforced high standards of conduct. Given the ancient connections between military service, high rank, and virtue, a female warrior could gain admiration for her moral superiority. Traditionally, women fought for the sake of Confucian virtues such as righteousness (yi) and filial piety. Han dynasty writings describe female role models noted for both bravery and virtue. Moral principles sometimes spurred women to violence, as they sought vengeance on behalf of a wronged kinsman or fended off unwanted sexual advances. Six Dynasties authors continued to celebrate virtuous female fighters. A woman who beat her husband’s murderer to death received an imperial amnesty due to her righteous behavior. And when one man wanted to force a woman to marry him, she fended him off with a sword, earning praise as a model of female integrity.

Other women took part in military operations. Emperor Wen of Jin and Empress Wenming conducted an important military campaign together, and she received equal credit for managing important military matters. Northern rulers sometimes employed women from the steppe as palace bodyguards. There was also the case of a woman who became a general, albeit under unusual circumstances. Her father, a noted military officer, had been ordered to lead an army while still in mourning for his deceased mother. He did not want to violate his mourning obligations, so he appointed one of his daughters to be general and another daughter as a high-ranking officer so that they could serve in his place. Historical records do not reveal whether these women prosecuted the war themselves or merely acted as figureheads on their father’s behalf. Either way, the soldiers consented to taking orders from a female general.

In wartime, large numbers of women found themselves pressed into military roles. During a siege, female inhabitants served alongside men on the city walls, fighting and also repairing the fortifications. And women born into military households lived a martial life. As these families tended to intermarry, their women spent their lives immersed in war. With conflict so frequent, they often accompanied their husbands on campaigns and lived in army camps. When war loomed, entire families would embark on a military campaign.

Even though classical ritual forbade women from participating in war, some nevertheless took on military roles. As the Han dynasty disintegrated, women began to have a more visible presence in military camps. Both the warlord Cao Cao and his foes used female troops on the battlefield, where they brandished spears, halberds, and bows. In that era, soldiers became a distinct social caste. The daughter of a soldier could only marry another soldier, so a woman born into a military family had no choice but to spend her life in a military environment.

The law sentenced men convicted of certain crimes, and their wives, to military service. Under the Northern Qi, both convicts and their female family members became soldiers. Like their husbands, women pressed into military service lived under strict discipline. If a man committed an infraction or absconded, authorities punished his wife as well. As in armies elsewhere in the world, most of these women lacked special skills or fighting ability. Instead they provided support, constructing fortifications, handling provisions, mending weapons, defending their camp, and doing domestic chores. Only occasionally did they go out on the battlefield.

Although the north lacked an institutionalized system of military communities, the women of military households often followed their husbands off to war. The Xianbei traditionally expected their women to be strong and to fight when necessary. The militaristic values of nomadic conquerors gave rise to the famed ballad of Hua Mulan, composed by an anonymous northern poet. In this story, when Mulan’s father is drafted, she disguises herself as a man to serve in his place. She becomes an exemplary warrior and distinguishes herself with outstanding heroism. Mulan is even offered an official post in recognition of her courage, which she modestly declines. Instead she returns home, dons female attire, and resumes conventional female life.

The tale of Mulan has captured the imaginations of generations of readers, and it continues to be retold in new ways. Although audiences today appreciate this story as an engaging fantasy, it originally seemed much closer to quotidian reality at a time when many women belonged to military households and received martial arts training. Mulan’s respect for Confucian propriety helps account for her perennial appeal. She does not dress like a man or become a warrior out of desire or ambition. Instead she sees these unpleasant actions as a way to protect her father from harm. After succeeding on the battlefield, she refuses to continue dressing as a man and bearing arms. Instead she returns home and resumes a stereotypical female life. The original readers could accept Mulan challenging gender norms and taking on a masculine identity only because she undertook it as a temporary sacrifice for the sake of moral duty. By mixing conservative Confucian integrity with startling violations of feminine decorum, Mulan has captured the hearts of numerous readers and remains an object of fascination both in China and abroad."

Women in early medieval China, Bret Hinsch

#history #women in history #women's history #women warriors #warrior women #china #chinese history #asian history #mulan #2nd century #3rd century #6th century #historyblr #historical figures #hua mulan

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stxrrynxghts · 6 months

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Have been reading your analyses since I've returned to Tumblr. Please make one of the Draupadi that we see in pop culture and the canon Draupadi, if you haven't already. Thank You so much :)

Okay! So, here I go!

So, Draupadi in pop culture is mostly two things, the shows, and the books. Let me start off with the books. I am taking three main books as base:

Karna's wife- The outcast queen: This book is based on some fictional girl named Uruvi, who is the Princess of Pukhya (ig?). She and Karna are the typical Wattpad OCs here. Draupadi here happens to be the female Arjun in Karna related stories, someone who is "jealous" of Uruvi. Uruvi happened to be involved with Arjun, beforehand, idk, am not much aware about this book. Uruvi seems to believe that the disrobing of Draupadi is a private moment b/w Karna and Drau, and that Drau is in love with him. Ugh.

Arjun-Without a doubt: DK much about this one, but apparently, Draupadi is jealous of fucking GANDIVA of all things. Oh, pls, do u srsly think that she has that to be jealous of? If I were this book's Draupadi, then I would be jealous of Nakul, for his insanely good looks-

Palace of Illusions: again, IDK much, but IK this much, that this book as well, loves to show the DrauKarn agenda. Plz. Draupadi does not need to be in love with the man who wanted her disrobed.

My conclusion, with these 3 main books, is that these authors love to degrade a perfectly fine female character. Pop culture Draupadi has ruined her image. Close your eyes and think about Draupadi, and think what you get in mind. Is she angry/short tempered? Is she always raving about her revenge? Is she being blood-thirsty? Is she being well...self righteous? Is she being jealous of her co-wives? If yes, then that is NOT her. That is a shadow, an insult. And trust me, these pop culture influences ruin your image of her to the extent that you CANNOT differentiate at all b/w the real her and the fake her.

Now, part 2, is Draupadi in the shows. *Rubs hands* now, if you like any shows, I shall tell u, this is gonna be BRUTAL. No hate is meant to any actress who has played Draupadi.

BR Chopra's Mahabharat: The first mainstream adaptation of Mahabharata on screen. In my opinion, their portrayal of Draupadi WAS , IS and WILL BE....in the finest of words, shitty. She says the word "andhe ka putra andha", she refuses to marry Karna as he is a sutaputra (We will get on that soon), and she raves about "mere kesh", and is clearly bloodthirsty. Draupadi is not even mildly disgusted or shaken by the fact that her hair is drenched in someone's blood, and it makes her come off as inhumane, arrogant and selfish. Draupadi did have a heart, and canonically, was moved by the destruction of the whole Kuru dynasty. Roopa Ganguly could have been a fantastic Drau, IF, the directors did not do this. Her friendship with Krishna receives a plus point, as does the scene which SHOWS that she is in her periods during the game of dice.

Dharmakshetra: Draupadi here is just straight up...bitchy? She is being blamed by both Kunti and Gandhari for "causing the war". Oh pls, if someone should be blamed, it is your SONS. She was the victim there. But then, honestly, this Draupadi deserves it. She roasts Arjun for not loving her, but then does the EXACT same thing with her other husbands. She roasts Yudi for "loving his brother's wife". Plz, shut your mouth bae.

Kahaani Hamaaray Mahaabharaat Ki: Yup, this was the OG spelling. They have Anita Hassandani as Draupadi, and she is....well, acting like she is a part of some random nukkad naatak. I watched one episode, and that was enough for me. If you want your sanity intact, then don't watch it.

Draupadi: This show has quite the pretty Draupadi, but here, the other Pandavas are literally getting horny over Draupadi. They show her "wedding night" with each one of them, and Arjun actually says that he was jealous of the fact that Bhima got to sleep with her. And I am jealous that you get to rest your head on Krishna's shoulder and sob, Arjun, but do you see me complaining?

Suryaputra Karna: Draupadi is fucking weird here. The scenes are copied from StarBharat, clearly, and well ah. What do I say? This show is clearly not watchable for man kind.

RadhaKrishn: eh. Copied again, from StarBharat, and they showed the andhe ka putra andha wala thing, and my feelings are terribly hurt. *sigh* if I could get this director to gamble off the whole Production House to me, then the world would have been a different place.

will need full blown two reblogs, one for the canon, and one for StarBharat to cover this-

#mahabharat #mahabharata #hindu mythology #draupadi

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dr-scribbler · 6 months

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Deepavali - Great power comes with great responsibility

Growing up in the southern Indian state of Tamilnadu, where Deepavali is celebrated cause of Narakasura’s Defeat by Krishna. Each year I heard the story of how and when it happened, why Krishna killed Narakasura, and how cruel he was.

As the adult age struck I started to work with people from many parts of India, surprisingly that's when I heard that the story of Deepavali/Diwali which they celebrate is very different from the one I did.

Some specified that it celebrated the cause of Lord Rama and Seetha’s return to Ayodhya

Some Specified that it was celebrated cause of Ravana’s Defeat by Lord Rama.

They were surprised when I said in Tamilnadu it is celebrated for the reason I mentioned above, some were quick to point out how wrong I was and how one should know one's true culture and blah blah blah.

It was hard to explain culture and practices vary throughout our country and that's the beauty of it, there is no right or wrong cause every path and every practice leads to the same destiny. Our paths may vary but the destination is one.

So I wanted to read more about this one-line story I heard about how Krishna defeated Narakasura and the origin of it. And man if I say it made me cry, weep.

To dive into this story we have to travel from Kaliyug to Krita(Sathya) Yug

When the earth was in the hands of destruction by the asura Hrinyaksha and to save the earth and defeat Hrinyaksha, the almighty Vishnu took in the form of Varaha, as both Hrinyaksha and Varaha fought, Varaha overpowered Hiranaksha and at the end defeating him and also restored the earth to its original position in the universe

Varaha defeated Hiranaksha with ease and his only exertion was a drop of sweat, which fell to the ground. From that drop, a young warrior rose, his name was Naraka.

Is that when Bhoodevi and her heartbeat as a mother, her eyes watered at the scene of her son rising from her Swami’s drop of sweat. How could she not love him as he is her son, with love Bhoodevi hugged her son and smiled at how strong and a warrior he was. Bhoodevi turned and asked her Prabhu Varaha that her son should be invincible. Varaaha pulled out one of his tusks and gave it to Naraka saying he could use it as a weapon whenever he was in great danger.

Naraka accepted the weapon provided by his father and felt immensely blessed and ready to go to seek his fortune, as his father provided him advice on how to use the power to do only good.

‘Uphold Dharma’ said Varaha and Bhoodevi blessed her son as happy tears fell from her lotus-like eyes.

Just like any mother, her heart is filled with love and confidence for her son. She does not doubt her son becoming powerful in all three worlds and being just like her Swami. Varaha looked at Bhoodevi and smiled at her nodding his head as if he knew what she was thinking, but his smile didn’t seem to be filled with confidence.

Varaha smiled, his son will be powerful but the question is will he uphold the dharma to do good things, will he use his powers to be righteous, cause great power comes with great responsibilities.

As the yugas rolled one by one from Krita(Sathya) to Treta, to Dwaparyug. Lord Vishnu again came down to earth in the form of Krishna, Yadava. He vanquished his Uncle Kamsa and continued to restore dharma on the earth.

Just like the yugas rolled down, Naraka also grew very powerful, as he conquered everything from heaven and earth, he was drunk with power. That's when he snatched the celestial earrings from Aditi, the mother of Devas.

Amid the chaos, Indra the lord of devas sought Krishna’s help to vanquish Naraka. Upon hearing this Satyabama, one of the wives of Krishna, who is none other than Bhoodevi herself, got devastated and her heart ached along with anger boiled on how her son turned out. Her confidence in her son now made her feel like crying a river but as a Bhoodevi she had a job first that is to accompany her swami and solve this problem.

Both Krishna and Sathyabama left Prag-joyitisha-pura on Garuda. But entering the Prag-joyitisha-pura was not easy as the capital has four layers to its defence, The chief defender of Naraka’s capital was Mura, who was so confident that no one could penetrate the defence he had set and was relaxing deep down at the ring of defence.

But can anything be against Parandhaman himself? Krishna took down each defence layer at ease thus causing violent ripples in the water. Mura woke up from his slumber, enraged rushed out to defend and attack Krishna. Mura fell fighting against Krishna who then earned the name Murrari, the enemy of Mura.

Upon hearing the chaos outside Naraka Narakasura himself came out and started to fight against Krishna. The fight went on day and night causing extreme chaos and it became very difficult to say who was winning. As Naraka still had the weapon provided to him by his father Varaha, he took out the deadly tusk and threw it on Krishna, who got stuck by the tusk into his chest and fell unconscious. Naraka let out a victory cry but an enraged Satyabama picked up the bow and started to fight Naraka with so much anger. Naraka was shocked and continued to fight Sathyabama not knowing her real identity just like he did with Krishna.

Sathyabama’s eyes turned red flashing anger and her love for her son was now completely overshadowed by the monster he had become. Amidst the fighting, Krishna woke up and saw Sathyabama fighting and smiled at her. Naraka is shocked to see how Krishna is now awake, no other being can able to be alive after being struck by the deadly weapon, if Krishna is alive then he must be none other than Lord Varaha himself, his father.

Naraka fell on his knees and his father's words rang into his ears ‘Uphold Dharma’. He realized that he had failed his father's words and surrendered to Krishna, who used Sudarshana chakra at Naraka.

As his life slowly leaves Naraka he subconsciously surrenders himself to Krishna and Sathyabama. Sathyabama who was Bhoodevi born again, rushed to him and held him. The cries of sorrow, hurt, love, anger everything heard in her. As she helplessly held her son whose life slowly leaving him, Krishna silently watched the reunion of mother and son. As the tears fell on his body he found light in his dying moment. The darkness has been lifted as the dawn broke.

That day is celebrated as the festival of lights, Deepavali or Diwali, which signifies that we have to emerge from darkness to light.

@whippersnappersbookworm @harinishivaa @thelekhikawrites @willkatfanfromasia @yehshuhua @arachneofthoughts @vibishalakshman @nspwriteups @thirst4light @hollogramhallucination @celestesinsight @curiousgalacticsoul @themorguepoet @tranquilsightseer

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