#what it must feel to be the one that survives

[franzkafkagf]

okay so i want to hear about your take on aegon i know you like him and all (so do i no matter how much i wish not to) but whyy

yess thanks for asking, I love being insane about him<3

I think Aegon is such a wildly tragic character– many asoiaf characters are but I'm so drawn specifically to him; he didn't want power or responsibility or the crown. It all was bestowed upon him against his will, and he shouldn't; putting on the crown is his definitive death sentence. The coronation scene has got to be one of my favorites in the season– he is quite literally walking up to be butchered like a sacrificial lamb, there are tears streaking his cheeks in the scene! I love the tragedy of it, the way it couldn't have been avoided anyways; his fate was sealed from the very start! He was quite literally dead from the very beginning.

I'm going off a mix from the book and the show but I actually love what they did with the character in the show? The book version does have some hard-hitting moments from him that are missing ("What sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?") but there wasn't that much there in terms of characterization and relationships. And wow, did they deliver on that in the show; I'm gonna give whoever came up with his mommy issues a forehead kiss.

Because YES! He and Alicent are reflections of one another– Alicent suffered under the heavy boot of Otto, turned into the perfect daughter, turned into the perfect queen for him. She recognizes that this was wrong and abusive of him, then she turns around and does the same thing to Aegon– the poison DOES drip through, the wheel is NOT broken!! It's BRILLIANT.

@atopvisenyashill put a GREAT tag under one of my posts–

#he looks like her and he’s weak like her so why can’t he get strong like her.

While Alicent persevered, Aegon crumbled under the pressure. He is miserable when we meet him– and he should be! He is unfit for the role of king, but it is his destiny nonetheless, everybody tells him so. It destroys him.

It's so sad too and I cannot help but to feel bad for him. No one knows where he is in ep 9, I don't think he has anyone to confide in; it must be lonely. Everybody seems to have written him off already– he is a drunk and a failure at being heir, being a son, being a father. He tries to prove them wrong later, and does in some aspects.

His loneliness plays into another aspect of him that I really love; his desperation to be loved. He will never be enough for anybody, he probably knows it deep down.

"[Aegon is] desperate to be loved but destined to be hated." – Tom Glynn-Carney

Obviously there is the carriage scene with Alicent that shows this. But I also really love the moment in his coronation, where he basks in the people's affection and cheers. He is poised to bleed out in front of the throne, he was crying and fighting for his life not to take the crown just minutes before. But now he's here and they love him and he can't help but love that.

He takes the crown to protect his family (the show does hint at that with Alicent telling him as much in ep. 6– in the book it's much more explicit with Criston pressuring him on the day of the coronation itself) and then his son DIES because of it! And he drinks and rages and drinks some more; he must've blamed himself. He goes to battle, flies too high (figuratively), and he FALLS; he burns and falls to the ground. He isn't made to be king. He knows. He does it anyways.

"You have already written yourself into legend, you survived dragonfire" – Larys Strong in season 2 (probably)

He survives, he is gone for over a year, unable to do anything but he SURVIVES. He escapes the capital, takes Dragonstone, he falls AGAIN, he loses most of his family; but he still goes on. Fueled by what? Maybe anger, or bitterness or just pure lust for revenge. It doesn't matter. He must've realized somewhere on the way that this was always meant to go this way, ever since he put the conqueror's crown on. It doesn't matter.

And then he dies and it's not grand or spectacular or anything like that. He drinks poisoned wine, nobody even sees him die, they only find him after. It's so uniquely lonely.

#hotd #house of the dragon #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #hotd meta #aegonposting #alicent hightower #otto hightower #omg now im sad </3 #ales.txt #asks

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for yesdangerpls; the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

“A version of you was conquering alternate realities,” Bruce says, still neutral. 

“Uh,” Kon says, looking embarrassed. “Kinda, yeah? Kinda definitely, actually. I mean–dude had some issues. His home reality wasn’t really all that clone-friendly, and shit kinda went to shit there, and then he just decided ‘actually killing inconvenient people is ethically okay if I just make clones out of their dead bodies and give those clones their memories after’, so, uh . . . issues, like I said. Serious ones.” 

“And you don’t think that’s ethical?” Bruce says, which is an obvious test. Kon glowers at him as Clark resists the urge to sigh at Bruce. The man’s as paranoid as ever, no surprise. It’s . . . understandable, admittedly, but not exactly fair in this situation. 

“Clones are their own people,” Kon says, setting his jaw stubbornly. “No matter whose memories you stick in our heads.” 

“That’s a school of thought,” Bruce says neutrally. Kon scowls, then pointedly lifts his lassoed wrist. 

“You’re an asshole,” he says emphatically. Clark has to muffle a snort of laughter behind his hand; Diana does the same. Bruce looks sour. Clark knows he doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough, but he just can’t look at this kid and see a threat. 

Of course, that’s part of why Bruce doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough. 

“And you’re asking for a lot of trust, for someone who’s reportedly an interdimensional conqueror in at least one reality,” Bruce says. “Why should we believe this version of you is any different from Black Zero?” 

“For the record, it was a version of me that stopped him, too,” Kon says, still scowling at him. “Like, a whole bunch of versions of me. And we didn’t all survive the experience. So I dunno, democratically speaking I think I’m mostly not a shithead.” 

“And you don’t know how to return to your home reality?” Diana asks. Kon grimaces, then shakes his head. 

“No idea,” he says. “I only got out into Hypertime to begin with because another Superboy showed up in our Watchtower with a hyperjacket keyed to his DNA and, uh . . . crash-landed and died right in the middle of a JLA meeting, actually. He was–injured, when he made the jump. Didn’t survive it. He was with the resistance. Was trying to warn our reality that Black Zero was coming, but . . .” 

Clark feels immediately nauseous at that thought; wonders how traumatic and horrible it was for his alternate version to watch that happen and not be able to save that version of Kon. Wonders if that Kon’s version of him even knows what happened to him. If . . . 

He tries not to think about it. It’s not something he can do anything about. 

It’s definitely motivating him to get this Kon home all the quicker, though. His other self must be losing his mind right now. 

“Satisfied?” he asks Bruce, raising an eyebrow at him again. He’d be amused, a little, if he weren’t still thinking about what had happened to that other version of Kon: about a kid that young dying far from home trying to do the right thing, surrounded by a roomful of heroes who couldn’t save him. 

“No,” Bruce says. 

“Batman, there are multiple realities in which all of us are supervillains,” Diana says wryly, unlooping her lasso from Kon’s wrist and winding it up again. “We can hardly blame Kon-El for the crimes of a single version of himself.” 

Bruce has a look on his face that makes it very clear that he does, in fact, think they can do that. Bruce also thinks that about them, though, himself included, so Clark isn’t going to give that concern particularly heavy weight right now.

#yesdangerpls #wip: the last son of krypton meets hypertime kon #long post

[clavissionary-position]

(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual His POV Story

The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.

Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)

Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)

—

I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.

I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.

I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...

"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."

Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.

(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)

Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...

The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.

(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)

(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)

(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)

Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?

My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.

Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.

Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?

Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.

Gilbert: Of course it's alright.

(...You probably have a lot to think over.)

Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.

She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.

(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)

Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.

In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.

[flashback to Case 1]

Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?

Emma: ...Yeah, it was.

Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.

Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?

Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?

[end flashback]

(That's what you said this morning, right?)

(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)

The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.

Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.

So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.

Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?

Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.

(Oh, I see...)

(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)

(...That's just so like the old me.)

A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.

And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.

That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.

(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)

(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)

Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ......

Emma: ......Gil.

The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.

Emma: Are there any easier political science books?

Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.

Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.

Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?

Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!

Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?

Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

Emma: ...Please, Gil.

Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.

Emma: Then how about...

When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.

Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.

Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.

Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?

Emma: ...

Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.

Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?

Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.

Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?

Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—

I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.

Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.

(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)

(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)

Emma: I was... going to study...

Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.

Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.

I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.

The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.

Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?

Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.

Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.

(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)

The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.

Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.

Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.

Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.

Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...

She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.

Emma: This afternoon, too, you...

Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.

Emma: ...

Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.

When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.

Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.

Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.

Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.

Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.

(Jeez, you truly are...)

Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.

Emma: Ah...

I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.

The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.

Emma: Gil... mn...

Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?

Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.

Emma: .......You're so mean.

Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?

(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)

After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.

I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.

Roderic: Pardon me, sir.

Gilbert: I figured you'd come.

When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.

Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.

Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.

Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.

Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.

Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.

Gilbert: Neither can I.

I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.

[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]

Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)

While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)

(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)

(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)

Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(Even so...)

I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.

The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.

But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)

The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.

I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.

But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.

(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.

Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...Hm?)

The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.

(Have I said something wrong?)

I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

(......)

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...

(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)

(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)

(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.

This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.

It was practically a miracle.

Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.

Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.

Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.

I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)

And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.

(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)

(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)

(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)

(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)

(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)

When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)

(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)

----------

Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translation folder

[sitp-recs]

hi! please feel free to delete this! but i read through your rec list (and found some amazing fics, ty!!) but i was wondering if you had any recs for fics where harry is helped by draco after the war? like he’s struggling with PTSD and being a public figure and going through it emotionally and draco takes care of him and helps him and they become closer for it and harry learns he doesn’t always have to be this Savior he can just be Harry with Draco! thank you in advance and sorry to bother you!

Not a bother at all, anon! I definitely have some recs for you. Some are set in the immediate post-war, some are set years later but they all explore Harry struggling with war/childhood trauma, fame, loneliness and the unbearable weight of having to find your way when no one else is telling you what to do anymore. Such a relatable feeling tbh. I hope you enjoy these!

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)

After the war, Harry can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him and he has a terrible feeling he knows what that “something” might be. He has a terrible feeling Malfoy might know, too.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

Unseen by RenVeree (T, 47k)

Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Way Down by lettered (T, 65k)

Harry is overwhelmed by his own power and fame and angst, so he's become a hermit. Draco Malfoy is tired of the melodrama.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #Draco helps Harry heal his trauma

[richincolor]

We've found quite a variety of books being released today. There is romance, fantasy, music, murder, and more in the pages of these books. What will you add to your TBR pile?

Wild Dreamers by Margarita Engle Atheneum Books for Young Readers

In this stirring young adult romance from award-winning author Margarita Engle, love and conservation intertwine as two teens fight to protect wildlife and heal from their troubled pasts.

Ana and her mother have been living out of their car ever since her militant father became one of the FBI’s most wanted. Leandro has struggled with debilitating anxiety since his family fled Cuba on a perilous raft.

One moonlit night, in a wilderness park in California, Ana and Leandro meet. Their connection is instant—a shared radiance that feels both scientific and magical. Then they discover they are not a huge mountain lion stalks through the trees, one of many wild animals whose habitat has been threatened by humans.

Determined to make a difference, Ana and Leandro start a rewilding club at their school, working with scientists to build wildlife crossings that can help mountain lions find one another. If pumas can find their way to a better tomorrow, surely Ana and Leandro can too.

Saint-Seducing Gold (Forge & Fracture Saga #2) by Brittany N. Williams Amulet Books

The second book in the stunning YA historical fantasy trilogy that New York Times bestselling author Ayana Gray called “nothing short of spectacular”

There’s danger in the court of James I. Magical metal-worker Joan Sands must reforge the Pact between humanity and the Fae to stop the looming war. As violence erupts across London and the murderous spymaster Robert Cecil closes in, the Fae queen Titanea coerces Joan into joining the royal court while holding her godfather prisoner in the infamous Tower of London. Now Joan will have to survive deadly machinations both magical and mortal all while balancing the magnetic pull of her two loves—Rose and Nick—before the world as she knows it is destroyed forever.

Off With Their Heads by Zoe Hana Mikuta Disney Hyperion

Fans of Chloe Gong and Judy I. Lin will devour this Korean-inspired Alice in Wonderland retelling about two very wicked girls, forever bonded by blood and betrayal . . .

In a world where Saints are monsters and Wonderland is the dark forest where they lurk, it’s been five years since young witches and lovers Caro Rabbit and Iccadora Alice Sickle were both sentenced to that forest for a crime they didn’t commit—and four years since they shattered one another’s hearts, each willing to sacrifice the other for a chance at freedom.

Now, Caro is a successful royal Saint-harvester, living the high life in the glittering capital and pretending not to know of the twisted monster experiments that her beloved Red Queen hides deep in the bowels of the palace. But for Icca, the memory of Caro’s betrayal has hardened her from timid girl to ruthless hunter. A hunter who will stop at nothing to exact her On Caro. On the queen. On the throne itself.

But there’s a secret about the Saints the Queen’s been guarding, and a volatile magic at play even more dangerous to Icca and Caro than they are to each other…

Lush, terrifying, and uncanny, Zoe Hana Mikuta—author of Gearbreakers and Godslayers —takes a delicate knife straight through the heart of this beloved surrealist fairytale.

Kill Her Twice by Stacey Lee G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers

Los Angeles, 1932: Lulu Wong, star of the silver screen and the pride of Chinatown, has a face known to practically anyone, especially to the Chow sisters—May, Gemma, and Peony—Lulu’s former classmates and neighbors. So the girls instantly know it’s Lulu whose body they discover one morning in an out-of-the-way stable, far from the Beverly Hills mansion where she moved once her fame skyrocketed.

The sisters suspect Lulu’s death is the result of foul play, but the LAPD—known for being corrupt to the core—doesn’t seem motivated to investigate. Even worse, there are signs that point to the possibility of a police cover-up, and powerful forces in the city want to frame the killing as evidence that Chinatown is a den of iniquity and crime, even more reason it should be demolished to make room for the construction of a new railway depot, Union Station.

Worried that neither the police nor the papers will treat a Chinese girl fairly—no matter how famous and wealthy—the sisters set out to solve their friend’s murder themselves, and maybe save their neighborhood in the bargain. But with Lulu’s killer still on the loose, the girls’ investigation just might put them square in the crosshairs of a coldblooded murderer.

Punk Rock Karaoke by Bianca Xunise Viking Books for Young Readers

When life gives you guitars, smash them!

School is out for summer and Ariel Grace Jones is determined to make it one for the books! Together with their bestie bandmates, Michele and Gael, Ariel believes they’re destined to break into the music industry and out of Chicago’s Southside by singing lead in their garage punk band, Baby Hares.

But before Baby Hares can officially get into the groove, the realities of post grad life start to weigh on this crew of misfits. Ari begins to worry that it’s time to pull the plug on their dreams of making it big.

Just when all hope feels lost, a fellow punk and local icon takes an interest in their talent. It seems like he might be the only one Ariel can rely on as frustrations between bandmates reach at an all-time high.

Punk Rock Karaoke is a coming-of-age tale that draws upon the explosive joy of the underground scene, while raising questions about authenticity, the importance of community and what it means to succeed on your own terms.

Song of the Six Realms by Judy I. Lin Feiwel & Friends

Xue, a talented young musician, has no past and probably no future. Orphaned at a young age, her kindly poet uncle took her in and arranged for an apprenticeship at one of the most esteemed entertainment houses in the kingdom. She doesn’t remember much from before entering the House of Flowing Water, and when her uncle is suddenly killed in a bandit attack, she is devastated to lose her last connection to a life outside of her indenture contract.

With no family and no patron, Xue is facing the possibility of a lifetime of servitude playing the qin for nobles that praise her talent with one breath and sneer at her lowly social status with the next. Then one night she is unexpectedly called to the garden to put on a private performance for the enigmatic Duke Meng. The young man is strangely kind and awkward for nobility, and surprises Xue further with an irresistible offer: serve as a musician in residence at his manor for one year, and he’ll set her free of her indenture.

But the Duke’s motives become increasingly more suspect when he and Xue barely survive an attack by a nightmarish monster, and when he whisks her away to his estate, she discovers he’s not just some country noble: He’s the Duke of Dreams, one of the divine rulers of the Celestial Realm. There she learns the Six Realms are on the brink of disaster, and incursions by demonic beasts are growing more frequent.

The Duke needs Xue’s help to unlock memories from her past that could hold the answers to how to stop the impending war… but first Xue will need to survive being the target of every monster and deity in the Six Realms.

Blood Justice (Blood Debts #2) by Terry J. Benton-Walker Tor Teen

Cristina and Clement Trudeau have conjured the impossible: justice.

They took back their family’s stolen throne to lead New Orleans’ magical community into the brighter future they all deserve.

But when Cris and Clem restored their family power, Valentina Savant lost everything. Her beloved grandparents are gone and her sovereignty has been revoked—she will never be Queen. Unless, of course, someone dethrones the Trudeaus again. And lucky for her, she’s not the only one trying to take them down.

Cris and Clem have enemies coming at them from all directions: Hateful anti-magic protesters sabotage their reign at every turn. A ruthless detective with a personal vendetta against magical crime is hot on their tail just as Cris has discovered her thirst for revenge. And a brutal god, hunting from the shadows, is summoned by the very power Clem needs to protect the boy he loves.

Cris’s hunger for vengeance and Clem’s desire for love could prove to be their family’s downfall, all while new murders, shocking disappearances, and impossible alliances are changing the game forever.

Welcome back to New Orleans, where gods walk among us and justice isn’t served, it’s taken.

#new releases #young adult books #ya lit

[hom3landr]

Icarus Falling

Chapter One: Flight Risk

Homelander X OC

When Vought decides to shut down a failing experimental program, a little winged loose end is left. Years later, a bitter young woman named Dove lives in isolation under Vought’s close watch. Not quite human but not quite a supe, Dove must use her wits to survive when Stan Edgar appoints her to The Seven for unknown reasons.

Dove’s tongue peeks out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates on making her brush strokes as even as possible. The sudden garish swipes of polish scratch something in her brain. Her hands are steady now. She no longer leaves a mess all over her fingers from hands shaky with uncertainty. Instead, the ritual has become a balm to her constantly racing mind. The patience to achieve perfection is one of the few things that bring her peace. She prefers bright gaudy colors that irritate the eye. It makes her think of poison frogs and she envies their ability to maim simply by a touch. She wishes she could have had that mutation if she was destined to be a freak. She contemplates whether she’d like to try some nail art today. She isn’t good but that’s not the point. It’s not like anyone will see them anyway. No one ever sees her.

She neatly finishes her nail, happy with the final result. A bright neon green, her nails seem to shine in the beige bleakness of her Vought sponsored house. She supposes that she could make the place homier but she refuses. It feels wrong to make peace with what scraps Vought throws her. She refuses to take comfort in their blood money. Her body may bear signs of their interference but it’s still hers. Her body will have to be her home as it is the only thing she can trust.

Her feathers flutter gently as the oscillating fan blows lukewarm air on her. The sticky summer air lingers and her bare skin is damp with sweat. Her curls are pulled up away from her neck in hopes of some relief from the muggy air. Of course Vought didn’t feel like springing for working air conditioning for her. She guesses it’s because it’s not “cost-effective”

She stretches out her wings behind her, wincing slightly at the way her shoulder blades ache. They may be part of her but the human body isn’t made to have wings. Her muscles are forced to shift and pull in unnatural ways to account for the unfamiliar DNA. She’s no different than a poorly bred dog, too many elements being blended together and spit out without thought to nature’s elegance. The weight of them makes her constantly sore, even with the harness for support. It’s nothing fancy but the leather contraption helps take some of the strain off her back. Her wings are another reason she doesn’t decorate. Furniture tends to be a hassle more often than not when it comes to accommodating her. Couches and any chair with a back is a solid no-go, unless she wants a wing cramp. She’s currently sitting on her unfolded futon she uses as a makeshift wing-friendly couch.

She happily observes her nails as they dry, so used to boredom that watching the slick wet polish turn tacky is a decent passtime. She whistles a jaunty little tune along with the music playing softly on the radio. She decides that she will try some nail art. She could use a little cheetah print.

Alas, her relatively good mood instantly sours when a sleek black car pulls into her driveway. Her stomach turns. The only people who ever come to visit are Vought cronies, usually doing the bare minimum to make sure she’s still alive. Her house that was supposed to be her refuge becomes just another lab. She angrily screws back on the cap to her polish and sluggishly rises with a groan. She didn’t realize she’s due for another checkup so soon. She contemplates grabbing a shirt but decides they don’t deserve the privilege of decorum. She doesn’t feel like putting in the effort of trying to wrestle her wings into one. She never bothers when she’s alone.

Something still feels off and there is a prickle on the back of her neck as she watches the car park. She double takes when she sees the figure getting out of the car. It’s not some nameless lab tech. It’s not some suit here to chastise her for flying high enough to be seen. It’s Stan Edgar, the man whose machinations led to her fate but who never found her important enough to speak to directly. He’s almost a mythical figure to her and her throat tightens. She doubts this is another quick checkup to endure. This is something big.

Once more she wonders if she should grab a shirt. But again, she decides against it. Maybe she’ll get lucky and the shock of her nudity will give the old fucker a heart attack. Her shoulders pop as she shifts. Clad only in a pair of ratty denim cutoffs, she opens the door to stare brazenly at the leader of Vought with her hand placed impudently on her hip.

“It’s rude to show up without calling”

Much to her dismay, Edgar doesn’t even flinch at her exposure. Although the same certainly can’t be said for the two bodyguards flanking him. Even with their sunglasses, the tilt of their heads is an obvious indicator of just where their eyes are focused. She rolls her eyes internally despite never breaking eye contact with Edgar. She’ll die before she’s the one who blinks first.

“I thought a visit might be pleasant considering your…isolation.” He smiles emptily at her. She grits her teeth and fights the urge to spit on his fancy suit.

“I think our definitions of what “pleasant” means may differ. I consider it pleasant to have some privacy, Sir.” She cocks her head at him. Her wings fluff up with displeasure. She should probably use her manners in front of a man as powerful as him; especially one who technically owns her. There’s a tiny voice inside begging her to practice some self preservation. But then she looks at him and she remembers. He wasn’t in the lab with her but whatever tortures she had to endure were committed with his full knowledge and approval. As far as she’s concerned, he might as well have been holding the scalpel himself.

He seems as unfazed by her remark as he did at the sight of her bare chest. She clenches her fist as he looks at her like a bored parent waiting out their child’s tantrums while in time-out.

“Allow me to introduce mysel…” His polite greeting is abruptly cut off by Dove’s scoff.

Settle down. The voice inside her implores but she brushes it from her mind like flicking a flea.

“You’re Stan Edgar, Head of Vought. I know.” She replies, hackles raised at his infuriating calm. “You’re the one who dumped me here.”

He smiles.

Bastard

“A decision that was made with your wellbeing in mind. But if that is your grievance with me then allow me to supply you with some good news. May I come in so we can discuss it?” He asks as though she has a choice in the matter. They both know she doesn’t, not really.

She pauses, two sides of her viciously battling it out in her brain. One side wants to fight and push just to see how far he’ll let her go before his facade finally cracks. The other side just wants peace. She grits her teeth. If she wants him to leave, she’ll just have to endure his visit so she sighs and steps to the side. He nods and enters, flanked by his leering entourage. She does roll as her eyes at their stares this time and grabs a scarf she spies draped over the edge of a nearby table. She follows them over to the futon, threading it through her harness and tying it into a makeshift top.

She plops down on the futon, crosses her legs and looks up at him blankly. She doesn’t offer him a seat. Of course, there really isn’t a place for him to sit even if she did feel like being polite. The living area of her tiny one bedroom house is bare except her futon, a small table with the fan still whirring away and her radio, and a short cabinet that she mainly uses to store her collection of polishes and a few dvds gathering dust. The walls are blank and cold.

“You should let Vought know you are in need of some furniture.” Edgar remarks as he looks around at the sad state of her place.

“I’ll get right on that.” Dove says wryly. She has no intention to ask for anything from Vought.

“Actually, I wouldn’t bother just yet. That's one of the things I wish to speak with you about.” Edgar replies. Dove regrets sitting because now she has him looming over her. The power play was fun at the moment but she’s quickly realizing that Edgar has a way of making them feel pointless and immature.

“I didn’t realize you cared this much about my interior design.” Dove can’t help but retort.

“It does seem pointless to furnish this place considering you will be moving in the near future. I’m sure you’ll enjoy a place with a little more class.” He’s smug, clearly trying to lead her somewhere. He says it like he’s expecting her to jump up like her team just won the superbowl. There is always the undertone of condescension and superiority that makes Dove bristle. She’s known this man for all of ten minutes but that’s all she needs. She doesn’t even register the meaning of his words. She’s too angry and it clouds her judgment. She doesn’t immediately register that he’s offering her an out.

“Vought has class?” She bites out, her joking tone too harsh to be taken lightly. The hurt behind it is open and raw. Edgar’s smile drops. She should feel smug that she finally got the mask to drop. She doesn’t.

“I’m sure you think that your comments are cute but I came here expecting to talk to an adult, not a petulant child.” His voice sharpens but the pitch never changes.

Dove’s mouth snaps shut and she bites her tongue till she tastes iron. Her feathers fluff out involuntarily as she seethes. She’s tempted to snap back but she begrudgingly realizes that the sooner they can get through this conversation, the sooner he’ll be out of her hair. She frowns when she notices one of her still tacky nails has smudged.

Fucking great

“Fine, just tell me then.” She crosses her arms before promptly relaxing them, not wanting to let him know how much she’s pouting.

The corner of his mouth curls up but his eyes stay as empty as ever.

“How would you feel about finally putting your skills to good use?” He asks.

Dove double takes and stutters out a bemused laugh. Not once since they threw her out with the bathwater had they ever indicated she had any use besides what failed experiment they had been planning. She is baffled as to what they could possibly want with her.

“I think my current situation shows what Vought thinks of my skills. Can’t you get one of your precious little supes to do it?” She replies with sheer disdain.

Psh…Supes

Oh, she despises supes. Spoiled little brats. Spoiled pampered little brats. Vought’s golden children. They’re genetic freaks too but they get freedom and fame. They have lives and families. They only have to endure a little shot of go-go juice as a baby and the world is handed to them on a golden fucking platter. Meanwhile here she is, weak, hidden, abandoned. She had to endure endless tortures and for what?

“We need someone with your unique composition.” His face gives nothing away.

That doesn’t sound good.

“…Oh.” She shifts nervously. A sick feeling starts to brew in her gut. She becomes viscerally aware of the prickle of sweat under her arms and running down her spine “I’m not…going back, am I? You all promised me I wouldn’t have to go back there anymore.”

Edgar laughs. He fucking laughs.

“Yes and no, but don’t worry, we won’t have any need for that. I think you’ll enjoy what we have planned.” He replies with false peasantry. Dove inhales tightly. Her hackles are raised at the constant dancing around the question. She highly doubts enjoyment is on the table. When has enjoyment ever been on the table for her?

“Well, are you gonna tell me what it is?” She retorts sharply. The constant whirring of the fan grates on her strained nerves and in this moment she wants nothing more than to chuck it across the room.

Edgar nods at one of the bodyguards who steps forward to hand her a fancy embossed letter. She resists the urge to snatch it rudely from his hand. She minds her manners though, being careful not to rip the fancy paper. Edgar stares her down as she opens it. Luckily her nails are dry enough now to not stick.

Her heart stops dead as she reads.

WHAT THE FUCK

Her hands start to shake.

This is a joke

This is a joke

This is a joke.

This is a fucking joke.

What she is holding is a genuine, bonafide, official invitation to join The Seven.

Dove drops the letter like it’s a scalding hot coal. A furious stinging longing like nothing she has ever known throbs hot in her chest.

Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? For your pain to mean something?

“No.” She replies shakily. “No, I don’t want it.”

She does. She wants it so bad.

“No.”

She knows what she is. She’s not a supe. She will never be a supe. That had been quite clear to her with every broken bone, every bruise, every slice of the scalpel. She was deemed unworthy with every scribble of a scientist's pen. Her only claim to fame is not dropping dead from her inhuman slurry of mismatched genes like the rest.

Whatever worth she has, it’s definitely not as one of Vought’s shiniest gems. She doesn’t have the luxury of hope.

“No? I assumed you’d be glad for the opportunity. Especially considering your…situation.” He nods at her wings and she draws them closer to her body.

“I’m…not one of them. I’m all but human. What need could you possibly have for me in The Seven. I’m…” She cuts herself off.

Weak

That’s the whole point of her existence really. Vought wanted to create a new breed of supes that weren’t supes. People with abilities but without the pesky super strength that makes things hard to manage. They wanted to corner the labor market. Who wouldn’t want to hire a worker capable of more than a human could ever be while still being easy to control? So, they turned to animal DNA, to see if they could generate specific traits based on carefully selected genes. It failed, the constant deaths of the subjects deemed it too cost ineffective to keep trying. When they shut it down, all they had to worry about was one winged little loose end.

“You let us worry about all that. You’ll just need to follow instructions and smile pretty for the camera.” He reaches out to take a shaky hand in his, his demeanor unnervingly parental in this moment. He pats it soothingly. She fights the urge to flinch away at the touch of skin. She’s painfully unused to human contact that doesn’t involve harm.

“What kind of instructions?” She’s wary.

“I told you, let us worry about that. I promise it won’t be anything you can’t handle.” His voice has warmed considerably as he tries to gain her consent without having to resort to more unpleasant means. After all, no isn’t really an option. Vought owns her. The invitation is merely a polite formality.

“No,” Dove repeats more firmly, a steely resolve in her eye

“No?” Stan Edgar raises an eyebrow.

Dove doesn’t want to hear anymore. What they’re giving her is not an out but a golden cage. She’s Snow White being handed the poison apple. She won’t be a victim of Vought’s plans again. She won’t be that stupid.

“What makes you think I want to do anything to help Vought out? What makes you think a bit of fame is enough to make me forget the shit you put me through?” Dove stands, staring Edgar down. She clenches her fists and the body language of his guards changes immediately. “If you try to set my ass in front of a camera I’ll spill everything. All I want is to be left alone.”

Edgar remains unphased by her outburst. He’d expected as much. The reports from her check-ups had informed him of her temperament. He has one more card up his sleeve before things have to get nasty.

“I understand that you’re disgruntled by your previous treatment. As an apology and as incentive for joining The Seven, Vought would like to reunite you with your mother. Remain as a member for one year and fulfill all your necessary duties, and we’ll get you in contact with her.”

His voice fades out into a droning buzz.

I have a mother.

Dove’s head swims.

She tries to speak but the words catch in her throat. She makes a strangled noise at the revelation. What can she even say to that? How is she supposed to respond to her whole world getting flipped on its head? Unwanted tears prickle in her eyes as her knees give out and she drops back on to the futon.

She’s always been so alone but all this time…

All this time…

“How come you never said anything? How come I didn’t…” Her voice trails off. “You’re lying.”

A photo enters her field of vision and she takes it shakily. There is a young woman in the picture, with curly hair and dark familiar eyes, Dove’s eyes. She doesn’t look much older than nineteen but the resemblance is unmistakable. She's wearing an all too familiar medical gown and her hand rests on the subtle swell of her stomach. Her expression is solemn. Dove chokes down a sob as she softly strokes the woman’s face.

“She signed a contract saying that she did not want any contact with the child post-birth. In recent years, she seems to have changed her mind. She’s expressed a desire to reconnect. If you agree to our terms, we can facilitate a reunion.” Edgar explains.

Dove can’t take her eyes off the photo.

Her mom abandoned her. She abandoned her to Vought’s heartless clutches. She’d walked away without a care. Dove should rip the picture up and tell Edgar to stuff it. She shouldn’t feel anything towards this woman…her mother.

Dove had never known where she came from. Vought had never specified. Now she has a chance to know. What is her mother like? Is she happy now? Why did she leave her alone? Why does she want her now? Did her mom ever love her?

Dove is furious at herself for feeling conflicted even as questions fill her head. She has so many questions she can get the answer to.

“I…” Dove flounders. She doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want anything else. She hates this mystery woman who left her in Vought’s clutches. She needs more than anything to be held in her arms, this woman with the dark sad eyes.

Don’t you fucking dare! Something inside her pleads. You’re going to regret it. You will never be free from them

Dove swallows thickly and with the finality of an executioner's swing, she gives Stan Edgar her answer.

“I’ll do it.”

#homelander #x oc #homelander x oc #Homelander x Dove #OC Dove #The Boys OC #big nervous about this one #my first time writing oc fic #y’all have no idea how long this took #No Homelander in this chapter yet but he’s coming

[666writingcafe]

Some Time Later

Lucifer (The Angel)

I've been assigned to patrol the woods alone this afternoon, and I have to say, I'm grateful. I don't get to be by myself very often. Some of that is due to choices I've made; after all, I've taken six angels under my wing, pun half-intended.

But there's something on my mind that none of them would be able to understand. Or rather, a person.

The Demon Prince is trying to fix the relationship between our realm and his. Originally, Michael was going to be the representative that went down there, but it got assigned last minute to me. After spending time with the prince, it makes me wonder if Michael would feel the same about him as I do if he were in my place.

The prince is kinder than some of the angels. I originally dismissed it as him simply practicing diplomacy, but he seems genuine in his efforts to get to know me as a person. He doesn't care about titles, instead focusing on character. Despite my less than stellar behavior when we first met, he still insists on becoming an ally.

Not just the Celestial Realm's, but my ally.

"I don't know what happened back there. I haven't felt that way about him in a really long time."

Great. Someone else is in the woods. I hold back a groan, knowing that I'll have to confront them. So much for my alone time.

"I think this place is doing weird things to all of us." Another voice.

"Did something happen to you, too?" The first voice...it sounds familiar.

"I feel like I'm behaving more like a demon than a human. First, there was the cover story for our appearance that I pulled out of my ass, and then I very nearly went all Asmo on Simeon when we were looking for Belphie earlier."

"Like, are we talking sexually? Magically?" The second voice sighs.

"Magically, Satan. I'm pretty sure having sex in the Celestial Realm is akin to heresy." I mean, they're not entirely wrong. But that's not important right now.

Satan...that's the name I've given to the anger that's become a permanent fixture inside my head. At first, it was just an emotion, but then it started talking. Or rather, screaming. At first, its noises were incoherent, but then I started hearing words in a voice that was not my own.

A voice that sounds eerily similar to the first trespasser.

"We have to get out of here," he tells his companion. "There's no telling what will happen if we..." He trails off as his eyes meet mine. Immediately, he tenses up, appearing to freeze in place.

"What's wrong?" Satan maintains eye contact, and the human follows his gaze. "Oh. This is bad. Really bad."

I step out of my makeshift hiding spot, making myself fully visible to them.

"Well, this is rather interesting," I remark, putting on an air of authority. "I should capture the two of you and not release you for a good long while."

"Please don't," the human quickly replies. "We don't mean any harm. If you can just help us find Simeon, I'll promise we'll be out of your hair." They seem terrified, but at least they're moving. Satan, on the other hand, hasn't budged an inch.

"If I was Michael or Raphael, your pleas would mean nothing. Thankfully, I'm only interested in talking." I focus my attention on Satan. "After all, it's not every day one sees the physical manifestation of their wrath."

"I was there even back then?" Satan whispers, confirming my earlier suspicions.

"You've been around from the moment I took Mammon in." My statement shocks Satan. "Your presence implies our separation at some point in the future. Assuming that you're a demon, that means that I must have fallen all the way down to the Devildom, correct?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nods his head.

"Along with the five angels you consider part of your family."

"Six," I correct.

"One doesn't survive the journey. Not entirely."

"What do you mean, not entirely?"

"If you knew who it was, then you'd end up altering the timeline," the human interrupts. "As it is, you know way more than you should."

"That's one way of looking at it, I suppose," I tell them. "I see it as preparing for the inevitable." They groan at my response.

"Barbatos is going to kill me," they mutter. Before I can question how they know the prince's butler, they take a deep breath and look straight at me.

"We can answer any questions you have, but you need to help us find Simeon. Not your Simeon, but ours. He and Satan got in a heated argument, and he went off in the opposite direction to hopefully try to calm down. Is there a spot here that he feels comfortable hiding in? One where he feels he won't be found easily?"

"There is a place, but it's a bit of a hike from here."

"Good enough. Let's go."

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me simeon #4/23/2024: edit to correct numbers

[kagoutiss]

din’s champion

#tloz #ocarina of time #oot #ganondorf #din #um #ganondin #…..does anyone here ship them ha. hahaha #i mean their whole thing is funny actually because she didnt even choose him but he managed to steal her triforce and #so then hes her ‘chosen’ by technicality. but with her virtue being power it’s maybe kinda one and the same #and anyway beyond that ​point i feel like she loves shaking him around like a mortal dog toy #but like in some way she also must have believed in him enough to give him Power in a different lifetime. so he’d survive his own execution #i;m just saying there is so much you can interpret about their relationship. despite her being #literally an unseen 4th dimensional being who is the embodiment of power and fire and change amd earth itself etc #like what do they think of each other. what does she think of this tiny mortal who somehow stole a piece of her and now theyre bound by it #take my hand walk w me thru mortal x god hyperdimensional traumatic power imbalance situationship. and youre both girls

[manygreetingsfriend]

i’m sooooooo normal about the god of war series. so incredibly normal i liked it a normal amount and would be so chill talking about it. don’t worry about the sign

#god of war #i’m so so so so so normal about it it’s so whatever it’s so haha you know #something something when it comes to yourself you’ll let yourself drown before you change. you’ll die before you change who you’ve become #to survive this long #up to and until it affects the ones you’ve come to love in this life you’ve made for yourself and you suddenly have no choice but to change #it’s fine it’s ok it’s chill. everyone does this. #it’s becoming a parent and loving your child so much you HAVE to change. you HAVE to be better #we MUST be better. than they were. #who’s they. our parents. the gods that come before us. yes. #i’m screaming i’m crying i’m wasting away im disintegrating. there’s no coming back there no return #you are on your knees. you are gripping your son’s shoulders like they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. #you are struggling with who you are and who you want to become. you are promising to be better. #i’m so normal about parent(al figures) taking responsibility for their actions and choosing to do better #i’m not high enough to really express what’s going on here. can you feel it? can you fucking feel it? #this series has destroyed me. #dad of boy. dad(s) of boy. i will never be the same (affectionate) #can’t remember the last time i finished a series and went ‘oh well i’ve GOT to play it again Now That I Know’ #AND I HAVENT EVEN TALKED ABOUT THE BROTHER HULDRA!!!!!!!!! #sindri’s face. has not left my memory #i’m dying scoob #gow #gowr

[lazycranberrydoodles]

“Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die—die, sweetly die—into mine. I cannot help it; as I draw near to you, you, in your turn, will draw near to others, and learn the rapture of that cruelty, which yet is love; so, for a while, seek to know no more of me and mine, but trust me with all your loving spirit.”

doodle of laura from carmilla (1872) because it is october!!!

#toxic yuri this toxic yuri that GO READ CARMILLA!!! ITS OCTOBER!! #theyre codependent one must die for the other to survive theyre in love theyre disgusted by each other #bloodlust and love and regular lust are all the same to carmilla and its eating her alive #what if lesbian desire was reserved for predatory violence but in that context was regarded as natural. what then. #ARGH!!!!! #put in tags if youve read it cause i feel so alone. holding my victorian vampire yuri in the corner #art #my art #carmilla #sheridan le fanu #carmilla (1872) #lesbian vampires #how do i tag this. #kinktober2023 #kinktober

[jahiera]

pondering on a meta diving into Gale's abstract brand of selflessness (willingness to go away to a corner of the world to die so that none of the faceless masses will be harmed by his mistake) vs his personal selfishness (willingness to stick by tav despite being repulsed by tiefling camp murder + general vocal approval or interest in accumulating more power) and Gale's status as someone who is good aligned but generally ineffectual at enforcing actual good (the way that wyll or karlach will actually leave the party) which is fascinating for a fairly good-aligned person. just love when the Good Guy is actually kind of fucking weird. edit: tumblr cut off my tags Okay. and how all of this ties back in an interesting way to his relationship and power imbalance with mystra. he was wronged, deeply, but he also desires still that ... status / closeness to divinity in some way, by her influence. Gale thinks that he would be a better god simply by virtue of his mortality but he cannot escape the appeal of holding himself apart from others and being more than, greater than, something closer to godliness and thus inherently removed from mortal values and standards of right and wrong, which the gods themselves don't adhere to in the same way.

#it's just one of those things that's really compelling about his character to me in terms of ... #Gale hesitates with the shadow lantern not really because he's put off by the magic #in fact if a sorcerer Tav condemns dark magic he rebukes it and argues that all magic is inherently neutral; some simply more #frowned upon than others #He appreciates good acts. he'll say We Should Do The Good Act. but he's not going to really fight FOR doing the right thing the way #others might; and when you get beyond the act itself he can very quickly rationalize #necessity. or mistake. or the value of power + strength behind it. #the dichotomy between his fearful willingness to die at Mystra's behest while not really tamping down his interest in power and survival #that peers out and I think (?) feels almost obfuscated behind his eloquence and his manners and charm and general clockability as a #guy who approves of good things. #and there are things he says & does that are further beyond the expectations of what you might expect from someone who is 'good' #the initial interest in a deal with Raphael; the approval of taking tadpoles despite the uncertainty and possible cost; the acknowledgment #that powerful forms (slayer form or ascending astarion) will be useful onward #His Fucking Speech to Tav after the grove slaughter where he's outraged and disgusted but can be swayed to stay #he's so... sunk cost fallacy too I think. at some point the ends must surely justify the means right #and his God of Ambition thing is sooo compelling because it really drives to the max the part of gale's personality that is always there #but obfuscated by his immediate insistence that he's a moral person right. you know him to be of sound judgement. trust him. #He likes seeing good happen and he's happy to go along with doing good things and he'll #state his opinion when he thinks something EVIL is happening. but he's not necessarily #going out of his way here either if tav isn't -- and to be fair game mechanics technically mean #no one is - but we can read from Wyll/Karlach removing themselves from the situation #(need to double check but can't Wyll also leave a slayer dark urge?) #that they CAN go out of their way #Wizard Apathy Baby! you feel benevolent toward others but you crave what is beyond humanity and #deeply rooted in the arcane; which you see as beyond too basic concepts of 'good' vs 'bad' magic; neutrality that sways with intent #you trust good actions but you didn't ACTUALLY use your power at the time For Others either; you probably could have but #you craved MORE. something BETTER. #and there's a lot there in how that interacts with his relationship to mystra too #his desire to achieve something closer to godliness and both thinking that he can do better because he's mortal but at the same time #has proven that he can separate himself or his technical moralities from a situation if it means exploration of power/knowledge Beyond

[b4kuch1n]

I actually for real feel like my phone's scanning quality has dropped monumentally while I was away on thing so that's a fun thing to figure out now. anyways

#sk8 the infinity #kyan reki #hasegawa langa #renga #answering of ''sure'' whenever they ask ''are you gay'' strikes again #gods. genuinely at least on the export the quality of these dropped like to half. whats up with that #sorry if these are impossible to parse #anyways. scribbled these during ''holiday'' ''vacation'' ''getaway''' #sometimes it really is the simple things. hallucinating vividly about the casual life of a pair of teens to survive being in a car for 6hrs #WITH da family #so glad I picked up scribbling on paper again. I actually got stuff to do digitally today and!! literally it feels so much cleaner #like I feel like I relearned a bunch stuff doing traditional ink again for a sec #but yeah. u guys should know by now how much I think about food as a concept #took 3m off last year to write about it in fact. but now Im just microdosing by drawing langa #I'm also actually so insane about reki being a scaredy cat it's so. something. it means so much to me #this of course means koyomi is a jumpscare champion. among siblings that are close in age there must be #the one who sleeps in the lower bunk. and the one who ties a doll to a string by its neck and lower it down to be next to the others face #'why is that so specific' no further question. thank you #gods okay. I need to lay the fuck down it is now my time. to be in bed #Im onto some real exciting stuff rn! and when this piece is done I'll return to ink for a sec #so uh. ink comm maybe not this week. but the next #happy late labor day! seek and destroy. have a good night

[age-of-moonknight]

House of M: Avengers (Vol. 1/2007), #5.

Writer: Christos N. Gage; Penciler: Mike Perkins; Inker: Andrew Hennessy; Colorist: Raul Trevino; Letterer: Rus Wooton

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 58163 #House of M: Avengers #Moon Knight comics #Moon Knight #Marc Spector #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #I guess I wanted to give these panels their own post because there’s just….something about them I wanted to discuss more #this is diving dangerously close to «personal opinion» territory (so please feel free to ignore all that follows) #but I guess I just wish this point had been developed a bit more because for the past 5 issues Marc’s refused to change because the cowl’s #«spiritual significant» to him and I’m (again personally) of the idea that something that important to someone is not easily foregone #idk this is probably stemming more from the long conversations I’ve had about «when outward displays of faith become dangerous #when should you start changing what you do? Should you ever? Is it a greater show of faith to continue on despite the danger? #Do you only practice in secret? Or is doing whatever you must to survive a greater show of endurance #living and working to make the necessary changes within the system so that one day you might be able to practice openly in peace?» #sorry for getting philosophical and sorry for being perhaps unfair to a friggin comic book particularly for a minor character #but I’m feeling a little uncharitable because I was dodging violence against women/close up shots of women’s rears this entire series #(if this post looks a little weirdly cropped it’s because I chose to exclude the panel where unlike what Danny + Marc get here #there’s a very male-gaze look at Angela and Felicia undressing) #and again! (at least on that second point because that might have been entirely Perkins’ doing) I might be being a little unfair #but that sort of content doesn’t inspire me to believe that the creators were asking complex questions when they had Marc hang up his #spiritually significant hood but maybe were thinking things like «is spirituality really /that/ significant compared to tactical efficacy?» #something that…gets me when about a guy who has demonstrated that spirituality is uniquely/complexly important to him #anyway this is entirely my opinion on something that is very much up to reader interpretation so please ignore me rambling #(and quite possibly simply blowing things completely out of proportion) in the tags hahaha

[fideidefenswhore]

What are your thoughts on Jane Boleyn, and the role she supposedly played in the fall of 3 Queens (Anne Boleyn, Anna of Cleves, Katheryn Howard)? Do you think she has been too maligned by historians for centuries, especially when it comes to the relationship with the Boleyns (it seems she got along with Anne)?

Now that I've read both works and compared them side by side, I suppose I would say my stance on Jane Boleyn falls somewhere in between that of Julia Fox and James Taffe ('Somewhere in between' is not, btw, Alison Weir); although closer to the former than the latter. Offering critique of both biographies, I would say that of JF is too apologetic (smoothing out wrinkles that exist in her arguments rather than acknowledging them) and JT is too severe.

Especially when it comes to the relationship with the Boleyns? Yes and no. Obviously she was married to George, she sent him a message of comfort while he was in the Tower, and wore only black the rest of her life, which was quite the potent statement. However, I would allow for the possibility that she potentially, inadvertently implicated him or AB (ie, testimony of hers was twisted to suit the crown's case). This is where I think there are flaws in the arguments of some of her defenders-- they cannot allow for even that possibility and so make claims that disallow it; some of which are untrue. 'Jane was only blamed as a means of absolving Henry in the whitewash of Elizabethan propagandists' is not true. Johannes Sleidan in 1545 claimed that Anne and George died by her 'false accusation'. Sleidan was a Reformer, so he would have been more sympathetic towards the plights of these two than the average person, and would have spoken to others that were as well, but the motivation to vindicate Elizabeth did not yet exist; she was at this point the very unlikely third in line to the throne.

I do appreciate that you said 'got along' with Anne, not 'besties', because...it's possible they were very close, certainly, but we must also allow for the possibility of animosity. The linchpin for the argument of closeness is the report from Chapuys that they 'conspired together' to banish Henry's mistress from court. Was this the precise truth? Considering the source I'm doubtful. Probably there was a lady Henry was serving at this time (although that we never have a name makes the story somewhat suppositious), but did they need to have 'conspired together' against her for Jane to be banished from court (which is what happened instead)? Jane might have merely made Anne aware of her, and Henry finding out that she'd been the source would have been enough for banishment. Or, as was presented plausibly in Adrienne Dillard's fictional rendition, Jane might have dropped hints to Cromwell that this mistress was a supporter of the two exiled and contumacious royal women that were Anne's adversaries, Cromwell might have passed this along to Henry, and Henry might have banished Jane for shattering the illusion that this woman had no independent ambitions or ulterior motives and merely let him hit for the sheer pleasure of his company.

If this was evidence of closeness, and it might be, then we also have to remember that the end result was Jane's banishment from court, and that there is, as JT fairly pointed out, no evidence that any of the Boleyns spoke in her defense, favor, or for her return. It would take an extremely magnanimous person to accept all that with equanimity and not feel any resentment whatsoever. So, if there was intimacy, there might have also been rift.

That leaves the question: enough 'rift' for her to seek vengeance? I doubt that much for all the reasons Fox outlines in her biography, but at the same time I wish there was not this relentless push to only defend women that we assert 'deserve' defense, on the premise they were entirely selfless, accepted every insult with grace, never kept any grudges, never had personal ambitions (the actions she took during the queenships of those you mentioned would suggest otherwise), mixed emotions, or conflicting loyalties; that we could acknowledge that acknowledging the agency of historic women also means acknowledging they were capable of making mistakes.

#anon #it feels like an 'overcorrection' to some degree. if that makes sense? #altho that's generally what ppl say about AB too and i generally think they're wrong lol #'waaah AB apologism waaaaahhh joanna denny wahhhhhhhhhhhh h/ayley nolan' #bitch. no one serious is taking those seriously. if joanna denny was the definitive AB bio that would be one thing #the definitive is eric ives who oh no said in his personal opinion that his favorite was more attractive in personality and appearance #than the other...oh my god that is the worst thing anyone has every said in the HISTORY OF TIME #are y'all this sensitive in real life bcus fr. #how do you bitches SURVIVE.................. #anyway what i was initially going to say after coming back to this: #*ever #like the way this figure is used to have it both ways really bothers...me? #i think there's some ambiguity here but like #i read someone claim that JS must have been 'so sweet' bcus otherwise JB would not have been her lady in waiting.... #which is like. be fr? if JB loved george and anne she would have hated her lol #or at the very least have been uneasy in her presence (there's a great scene with this in adrienne's sequel btw) #but like...idk man. ppl just don't seem to get how humans worked? or have any sort of emotional; media; literal; literacy? #this was my thing with BSR too 'how dare THEY say henry NEVER loved coa how dare THEY say jane was to blame for anne's miscarriage' #like right...were 'they' saying that or was anne? or was that what anne believed? was the show perhaps from her (gasp) POV and so #these things were portrayed? i mean ffs.... by our literal primary sources those were the things she said. #someone's emotions and beliefs /= infallible unassailable entire truths #nor are they necessarily 'fair' and the same with our judgements. welcome to being a human being #so yeah like re: JB.... #*that she felt like that? was it entirely fair to blame and resent the seymours? #is that necessarily fair? no. how much she did or didn't was probably dependent on how accurate chapuys report was about JS #the extent to which she had disparaged anne #as for the why as JF theorized ; the need of income and the possibility that since cromwell had helped her with income #this was the favor he wanted in return (so her as a spy in the household) #and re: conflicting loyalties ; i mean ...goddamn; people are complex #i think it's entirely possible that JB loved anne but also had this innate sympathy for coa and mary too.

[zelda-posting]

tears of the kingdom could have been so good if it were built around like, its story or its characters instead of being a clunky shell to show off the mechanic no one asked for that it forces you to use

#* #text #totk #mechanics #i had fun scuttling around in the depths for a while but that got old eventually. for obvious reasons #what i liked about zelda games was always the atmosphere and character interactions #like. one of my favorite games is twilight princess. which is. deeply unserious in many ways #bit it COMMITTED to its setting and what the writers went ham making sure #that it was still full of whimsy and affection. #totk doesn't have that. the characters are all 1) instruction manuals or 2) vehicles for what small and disparate semblances of plot #survived whatever disaster must have happened in development that made them cannibalize several different ideas #and stick them into the shell for the fucking. arm #totk plays like a gallery or again just an engine for the building thing. #it's pretty. the music is good. the building thing is well made. but as a zelda game totk Fucking Tanks #i HATE overinvolved mechanics. i HATE having to stop and rely on a Whole Process that i have to keep stocked #to get anything done. i've always liked loz again bc of characters and whimsy but also bc it's always been mechanically vert streamlined #and accessible to someone like me who is disabled and finds fiddling EXTREMELY tedious #you have one required tool per dungeon and they're QUICK they're SIMPLE they're A GOOD TIME #totk. to me. is just clunky and has no redeeming qualities outside of again being pretty and still sort of nominally letting you run around #collecting things. some of the side quests were cute. but even then the characters were very. #THE THING ABOUT ZELDA GAMES IS THAT IM used TO THEM BEING ABOUT. NOT JUST THE FUNCTION!!!!!! #there were things— many of them! sometimes most of them even!!!— there just for fun. again almost especially The Characters #totk is so goddamn UTILITARIAN on all levels ITS. CLUNKY and BORING i don't WANT to have to do 30 things just so i can do something else. #hey nintendo. if you have to force people to play your game. like if you specifically have an ''open'' game and then subsequently have to #manufacturer MANY blocks and caveats to the idea of ''do whatever have fun!!'' so that it's''but only how WE want you to''. maybe thats bad. #maybe you've done a bad job. if again. you have to FORCE players to go about things in the way and order that you want. it's no fun. #like even zelda games where you have less options and linear progression feel less restrictive bc like. they don't fucking punish you. #for. playing the game. you just can't do things. totk really punishes you for going off script. which like. why even do that. #anyway. this is all probably incoherent. i'm right tho. #wow there are so many typos. pretend there are not <3

[necromancy-savant]

Sometimes I worry that I haven't taken good enough care of my ears, but then I'm in physical pain from how loud not only friends and coworkers in the same room keep their music but how loud my neighbors and the people in the parking lot blast it

#I'm convinced that both temperature and volume are things I perceive extremely differently from every other human ever to exist #I can hear snoring beneath me at night #I put in my earplugs but I can still feel the vibrations #through the fucking floor and through the walls #go to a doctor before you die in your sleep ffs tbh #but at least that person takes care of their baby unlike my last neighbors #I hear crying every once in a blue moon and it sucks but it stops within minutes bc they promptly meet their baby's needs #at my old place it would be 12 hours a night of screaming and screaming and no sleep bc they ignored it #and in the day it would be boom boom boom crash crash glass breaking everywhere cry oh what happened #you left your baby unattended and she got injured for the fifth time today bc you just leave her alone in the house all the time #you let your 1 year old to stomp around and break things and injure herself every 15 minutes #while you laze around just admit you never wanted children and give her to someone who will take care of her ffs #that kid is going to be suicidal by first grade due to lack of attention to her basic survival needs and I feel horrible for her already #I also saw two very young boys on that porch one time #with no shirts and with just shorts on in the snow just bashing the porch with sticks out of sheer boredom #I was considering intervening bc my paranoid ass thought they must already have frostbite