#<- her w The Powers... So real

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

2am thinking about aglaya lilich who executed people without any pity had an insane amount of power but also always knew she's just a doomed marionette with no actual will

"The desire to put people out of their misery by restoring the broken logic of the world is what drives her to action."

"There is an eternally predetermined order by which everything goes as it should along a predetermined path."

This is from patho 2 which i didn't play but fr..

"So how do you build a perfect world if you're going to have less than perfect people living in it?

The Inquisition has no answer to that question. All I can do is protect the system, keep it from collapsing and burying millions of lives under its rubble."

"Betrayal is death. Next. Treason is betrayal. Betrayal is death. Left. Next. Death. Next. Death. Anybody not on any of these cases?There are no other crimes. There is no evil, no murder, cannibalism or violence. There's nothing worse than betraying someone who's trusted you. And everyone with a confession like that goes straight to the left. It's death. It's out of the question."

"Are you kidding me? I'm an automaton. This is an unsolvable city. I don't know how to do that. Listen. I don't have much time left. If I can't solve this city, I have, uh. ampoule. They sent me to do this on purpose. There's no winning this thing. "Resolve" means… well, bring the matter to an end. Inquisition. You know what I mean? It was - and now it isn't."

_

"Aglaia is a God-fighter. Those whom she touches begin to rebel against the established order of things. At the same time, Aglaia is the voice of the law. She sees the universe as a machine. She asserts that the logic of the universe is above all, and to hell with polyhedrons. God-fighting for her is also the restoration of justice, the law of nature. Those she touches begin to realize that there are limits to what is possible and one must obey them."

[mohntilyet]

asked my brain 'have you had enough of veilguard yet' and it answered with 'remember when you wanted a vivienne romance so bad you made it up'

[farmhandler]

wokring hard or hardly working as they say...!! Here's a snip of my poolverine series piece. It'll be a WHILE I think, I'm working on several things at my own pace and I know better than to post a wip before I've fully finished the fic

I want them in pain!!!!!! Again!!!!! Grah!! I'm sorry

---

“You’re different now.” Cassandra’s voice in Scott’s body walked around the room, slowly circling him. “I’m not sure I like it. You used to pine after this one.” He paused. “Oh, but you didn’t think you were pining, did you? For both him and his lovely wife.”

Logan clenched his jaw and didn’t say a word.

Scott sighed. “That one’s too easy. You don’t actually care anymore. Not the way you do about…Deadpool.”

Logan fists curled.

“There it is.” Scott sat down on the console and threw one leg thoughtfully over the other. “You used to be so sad.” Scott’s lips formed a mockery of a pout. “Look at you now, all in love. You’re committed to him. Devoted. It’s sweet. And grotesque.” Scott stood back up again. “I don’t think I like it.”

Logan kept his mouth shut. There wasn’t any point in answering.

“That’s right, I don’t need you to tell me how to hurt you.”

Rage bubbled up Logan’s chest so fast he was across the room before Cassandra-as-Scott could even so much as twitch.

“If you touch him, I will fucking kill you, for good this time. I will find you, and I will find a way to kill you. Do not fucking underestimate me.”

“Ha! I love it.” Scott tapped his finger against his chin. “You know, I’m in quite a bad mood. You wouldn’t know that, of course. I mean, why would you? It’s just…I recently regained consciousness after a bad case of the atomization.”

“So you survived. Big whoop. You want a medal?”

“That’s very cute.” Scott clasped his hands and strode towards Logan. “You take after him now.”

When Scott was less than a foot away, Logan raised his claws in warning.

“It’s amusing that you think you can hurt me.” Scott prodded at the end of one claw. “I have just one question for you. Well, two. Do you think yourself a changed man, Logan? You think he’s changed?”

“I think I want to fucking kill you.”

“Yes, yes, you don’t even need to say it.” Scott pulled his hand back and clasped it behind his back. “In here, I see everything. Your faith in him is adorable, by the way. Shall we put it to the test?”

Scott raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

[weirdbabs]

she just wanted him to say that it was fucked up for scabs to make her head into a giant dobermann to bite her arm!! shes got ptsd!! and instead she was met not only by him telling her to suck it up and ignore her bodys natural response, but him revealing he TOLD her about it. bc it would make her a better fighter

[miekasa]

worst tropes

men dating women in the same career/field as them an get silent/bitter because she's having a big moment/is more accomplished than him

men dating women in time-demanding careers and then are upset that their careers demand their time

men with podcasts

men dating independent/emotionally unavailable women and then are upset that they are independent/emotionally unavailable

men who can't drive

best tropes

friends to lovers

men who can drive

love on purpose, love that's intentional, love that's not rotten work because it's you

[idolbound]

Anders kinnies on twitter in the year 2024 not understanding that while yes, Meredith had previously written to Val Royeaux to ask about invoking the Right of Annulment, the request was rejected.

In the throes of her paranoia being made worse with the addition of the red lyrium idol fashioned into a sword, she was getting desperate and looking to search the Gallows for blood mages as a reason to invoke the Right.

However, Meredith did not invoke the Right until after Anders blew up the Chantry.

During the argument with Orsino, it was clear that he was not going to allow Meredith to search the tower. And, much like the start of Act 3 in Hightown, he wanted to call upon Grand Cleric Elthina to settle their disagreement because he KNEW that Elthina was the only person who could control Meredith (and kept her on a proverbially short leash). To this, Meredith immediately raises her voice and says "You will NOT bring her Grace into this!" which CLEARLY implies she knows Elthina would put a stop to her actions then and there, which is the opposite of what Meredith wants to do.

So, with Anders' interjection in this scene and blowing the Chantry up:

Meredith (who was running Kirkwall as a Templar police state under martial law) had to respond to the crime in and of itself;

Elthina was dead, and therefore, the person who could have stopped her from invoking the Right of Annulment was no longer able to do so; and,

She was already at the peak of her paranoia, and this made her not seek justice on Anders himself (who had immunity from templar prosecution as a Grey Warden), but upon the innocent mages of the Circle.

So, she initiated the Right of Annulment as a response to the destruction and lives lost, and the Circle mages paid for Anders' actions (and depending on Hawke's choice, his own life could pay for it too).

It is not difficult to understand that Anders' actions - however morally justified he may have been - acted as the catalyst to the genocide of the Kirkwall Circle.

People will say "it would've happened anyway" but to be frank, if Anders did not blow up the Chantry and had Elthina been involved, she would've shut Meredith down again as someone who didn't want to get involved in taking sides but wanted to maintain the peace AND the desires of the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. Alternatively, Hawke - Champion of Kirkwall - has enough influence at this point to influence Meredith and Orsino both as a popular (political) figure among Kirkwall's citizens and nobility. (it's why Meredith was reluctant to crown them Champion to begin with - it gave them power that she wanted for herself!).

I realize a lot of DA fans are not looking at these moments in-depth, but acting as if Anders is entirely justified in giving Meredith the fuel she needed to kill all the innocent mages is a bit ignorant and tbqh, misunderstanding this situation for what it is.

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

I like how occasionally toshiros fast and loose w his morals its fun

[fishyartist]

Danny phantom episode “Girls night out” deserves more hate. Like it’s the worst of season 3’s shift into more generic superhero cartoon plot lines imo, it’s gender politics are noxious. Something about the art is especially not working for me. ember and spectra should be trying to maul each other.

[miniagula]

suitor armor posting once again ghouls bc their dialogue and tension is once again fizzling my neurons

[morninkim]

was gonna wait until the big RotMMPR Movie post to show off designs from it

HOWEVER. i like these, so here's the team unmorphed :)

Distant Thunder takes place in the summer following Billy, Kimberly and Tommy's senior year, and Rocky, Aisha and Adam's sophmore year - so it's been about a year since the final battle with Zedd

[kneworder]

did you watch tua s4 and if so what did you think :3

yeah i watched it

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 20 …

oh my gods chapter 20…

I am dead inside.

And somehow dying more per chapter.

Ow. THE NIGHTMARE DREAM SEQUENCE

"Do you know the story of the queen who walked through worlds?"

Seated on the mossy carpet of an ancient glen, one hand toying with the small white flowers strewn across it, Aelin shook her head.

In the towering oaks that formed a lattice over the clearing, small stars blinked and shimmered, as if they'd been snared by the branches themselves. Beyond them, bathing the forest with light bright enough to see by, a full moon had risen. All around them, faint, lilting singing floated on the warm summer air.

"It is a sad story," her aunt said, one corner of her red-painted mouth curling upward as she leaned back on her seat carved into a granite boulder. Her usual place, while they had these lessons, these long, peaceful chats deep into the balmy summer nights. "And an old one."

Aelin lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't I a little old for faerie stories?" She'd indeed just celebrated her twentieth birthday three days ago, in another clearing not too far from here. Half of Doranelle had come, it had seemed, and yet her mate had found a way to sneak her from the revelry. All the way to a secluded pool in the forest's heart. Her face still warmed to think of that moonlit swim, what Rowan had made her feel, how he'd worshipped her in the sun-warmed water.

Mate. The word was still a surprise. As it had been to arrive here at spring's end and see him beside her aunt's throne and simply know. And in the months since, their courting ... Aelin indeed blushed at the thought of it. What they'd done in that forest pool had been the culmination of those months. And an unleashing. The mating marks on her neck— and on Rowan's-proved it. She would not be returning to Terrasen alone when autumn arrived.

"No one is too old for faerie stories," her aunt said, faint smile growing. "And as you are part faerie yourself, I would think you'd have some interest in them."

Aelin smiled back, bowing her head. "Fair enough, Aunt."

Aunt wasn't entirely accurate, not with generations and millennia separating them, but it was the only thing the queen had suggested Aelin call her.

Maeve settled further into her seat. "Long ago, when the world was new, when there were no human kingdoms, when no wars had marred the earth, a young queen was born."

Aelin folded her legs beneath her, angling her head.

"She did not know she was a queen. Amongst her people, power was not inherited, but simply born. And as she grew, her strength rose with her. She found the land she dwelled in to be too small for that power. Too dark and cold and grim. She had gifts similar to many wielded by her kind, but she had been given more, her power a sharper, more intricate weapon-enough that she was different. Her people saw that power and bowed to it, and she ruled them.

"Word spread of her gifts, and three kings came to seek her hand. To form an alliance between their throne and the one she had built for herself, small as it might have been. For a time, she thought it would be the newness, the challenge that she had always craved. The three kings were brothers, each mighty in his own right, their power vast and terrifying. She picked the eldest among them, not for any particular skill or grace, but for his countless libraries. What she might learn in his lands, what she might do with her power ... It was that knowledge she craved, not the king himself."

A strange story. Aelin's brows rose, but her aunt continued on.

"So they were wed, and she left her small territory to join him in his castle. For a time, she was contented, both by her husband and the knowledge his home offered her. He and his two brothers were conquerors, and spent much of their time away, leashing new lands to their shared throne. She did not mind, not when it gave her freedom to learn as she would. But her husband's libraries contained knowledge even he did not realize was held within. Lore and wisdom from worlds long since turned to dust. She learned that there were indeed other worlds. Not the dark, blasted realm in which they lived, but worlds beyond that, living atop one another and never realizing it. Worlds where the sun was not a watery trickle through the ash-clouds, but a golden stream of warmth. Worlds where green existed. She had never heard of such a color. Green. Nor had she heard of blue-not the shade of sky that was described. She could not so much as picture it."

Aelin frowned. "A pitiful existence."

Maeve nodded grimly. "It was. And the more she read about these other worlds, where long-dead wayfarers had once roamed, the more she wanted to see them. To know the kiss of the sun on her face. To hear the morning songs of sparrows, the crying of gulls over the sea. The sea that, too, was foreign to her. An endless sprawl of water, with its own moods and hidden depths. All they had in her lands were shallow, murky lakes and half-dried streams. So while her husband and his two brothers were off waging yet another war, she began to ponder how she might find a way into one of those worlds. How she might leave."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Something nagged at her, as if it might indeed be true, but perhaps that was one of her own mother's tales, or even Marion's, tugging on her memory.

Maeve nodded. "It was. Using the very language of existence itself, doors might be opened, however briefly, between worlds. It was forbidden, outlawed long before her husband and his brothers were born. Once the last of the ancient wayfarers had died out, the paths between realms were sealed, their methods of world-walking lost with them. Or so all had thought. But deep in her husband's private library, she found the old spells. She began with small experiments. First, she opened a door to the realm of resting, to find one of those wayfarers and ask her how it was properly done." A knowing smile. "The wayfarer refused to tell her. So the queen began to teach herself. Opening and closing doors long since forgotten or sealed. Peering deep into the workings of the cosmos. Her own world became a cage. She grew tired of her husband's warring, his casual cruelty. And when he went away to war once again, the queen gathered her closest handmaidens, opened a door to a new world, and left the one she'd been born into."

"She left?" Aelin blurted. "She she just left her own world? Permanently?"

"It had never been her world, not really. She had been born to rule others."

"Where did she go?"

That smile grew a bit. "To a fair, lovely world. Where there was no war, no darkness. Not like that in which she had been born. She was made a queen there, too. Was able to hide herself within a new body so that none could know what she was beneath, so that even her own husband would not recognize her."

"Did he ever find her again?"

"No, though he looked. Found out all she'd learned, and taught it to himself and his brothers. They tore apart world after world to find her. And when they arrived at the world where she had made her new home, they did not know her. Even as they went to war, she did not reveal herself. She won, and two of the kings, her husband included, were banished back to their own world. The third remained trapped, his power nearly broken. He crawled off into the depths of the earth, and the victorious queen spent her long, long existence preparing for his return, preparing her people for it. For the three kings had gone beyond her methods of world-walking. They had found a way to permanently open a gate between worlds, and had made three keys to do so. To wield those keys was to control all worlds, to have the power of eternity in the palm of your hand. She wished to find them, only so she might possess the strength to banish any enemies, banish her husband's youngest brother back to his realm. To protect her new, lovely world. It was all she ever wanted: to dwell in peace, without the shadow of her past hunting her."

From far away, that ghost of memory pushed. As if she'd forgotten to douse a flame left burning in her room. "And did the queen find the keys?"

Maeve's smile turned sad. "Do you think she did, Aelin?"

Aelin considered. So many of their chats, their lessons in this glen, held deeper puzzles, questions for her to work through, to help her when she one day took her throne, Rowan at her side.

As if she'd summoned him, the pine-and-snow scent of her mate filled the clearing. A rustle of wings, and there he was, perched in hawk form on one of the towering oaks. Her warrior-prince.

She smiled toward him, as she had for weeks now, when he'd come to escort her back to her rooms in the river palace. It was during those walks from forest to mist-shrouded city that she had come to know him, love him. More than she had ever loved anything.

Aelin again faced her aunt. "The queen was clever, and ambitious. I would think she could do anything, even find the keys."

"So you would believe. And yet they eluded her."

"Where did they go?"

Maeve's dark stare unwaveringly held hers.

"Where do you think they went?"

Aelin opened her mouth. "I think —

She blinked. Paused

Maeve's smile returned, soft and kind. As her aunt had been to her from the start. "Where do you think the keys are, Aelin?"

She opened her mouth once more. And again halted.

Like an invisible chain yanked her back. Silenced her.

Chain—a chain. She glanced down at her hands, her wrists. As if expecting them to be there.

She had never felt a shackle's bite in her life. And yet she stared at the empty place on her wrist where she could have sworn there was a scar. Only smooth, sun-kissed skin remained.

"If this world were at risk, if those three terrible kings threatened to destroy it, where would you go to find the keys?" Aelin looked up at her aunt.

Another world. There was another world Like a fragment of a dream, there was another world, and in it, she had a wrist with a scar on it. Had scars all over.

And her mate, perched overhead ... He had a tattoo down his face and neck and arm in that world. A sad story—his tattoo told a sad, awful story. About loss. Loss caused by a dark queen.

"Where are the keys hidden, Aelin?" That placid, loving smile remained on

Maeve's face. And yet ...

And yet.

"No," Aelin breathed

Something slithered in the depths of her aunt's stare. "No what?"

This wasn't her existence, her life. This place, these blissful months learning in Doranelle, finding her mate—Blood and sand and crashing waves.

"No."

Her voice was a thunderclap through the peaceful glen.

Aelin bared her teeth, fingers curling in the moss.

Maeve let out a soft laugh. Rowan flapped from the branches to land on the queen's upraised arm.

He didn't so much as fight it when she wrapped her thin white hands around his neck. And snapped it. Aelin screamed. Screamed, clutching at her chest, at the shredding mating bond—

She screamed again. Screamed at her ruined arm, the unscarred skin, screamed at the lingering echo of the severed mating bond.

"Do you know what pains me most, Aelin?" Maeve's words were soft as a lover's. "It's that you believe I'm the villain in this."

Whenever that had been. If it had even happened at all.

"I have no doubt that your mate or Elena or even Brannon himself filled your head with lies about what I'll do with the keys." Maeve ran a hand over the stone lip of the altar, right through her splattered blood and shards of bone. "I meant what I said. I like this world. I do not wish to destroy it. Only improve it. Imagine a realm where there is no hunger, no pain. Isn't that what you and your cohorts are fighting for? A better world?"

The words were a mockery. A mockery of what she'd promised so many. What she had promised Terrasen, and still owed it.

Aelin tried not to shift against the chains, against her broken arms, against the tight pressure pushing on her skin from the inside. A rising intensity along her bones, in her head. little more, every day.

Maeve heaved a small sigh. "I know what you think of me, Fire-Bringer. What you assume. But there are some truths that cannot be shared. Even for the keys." Yet the growing strain cracking within her, smothering the pain ... perhaps worse. Maeve cupped her cheek over the mask.

"The Queen Who Was Promised. I wish to save you from that sacrifice, offered up by a headstrong girl." A soft laugh. "I'd even let you have Rowan. The two of you here, together. While you and I work to save this world."

The words were lies. She knew it, though she couldn't quite remember where one truth ended and the lie began. If her mate had belonged to another before her. Been given away. Or had that been the nightmare?

Gods, the pressure in her body. Her blood.

You do not yield.

"You can feel it, even now," Maeve went on. "The urge of your body to say yes." Aelin opened her eyes, and confusion must have glittered there, because Maeve smiled. "Do you know what being encased in iron does to a magic-wielder? You wouldn't feel it immediately, but as time goes on ... your magic needs release, Aelin. That pressure is your magic screaming it wants you to come free of these chains and release the strain. Your very blood tells you to heed me."

Truth. Not the submission part, but the deepening pressure she knew would be worse than any pain from burnout. She'd felt it once, when plunging as far into her power as she'd ever gone.

That would be nothing compared to this.

"I am leaving for a few days," Maeve said.

Aelin stilled.

Maeve shook her head in a mockery of disappointment.

Fenrys sat by the wall, concern bright in his eyes as he blinked. Are you all right?

She blinked twice. No.

No, she was not anywhere near to all right.

Maeve had been waiting for this, waiting for this pressure to begin, worse than anything Cairn might do. And with the collar Maeve now went to personally retrieve … She couldn't let herself contemplate it. A more horrific form of slavery, one she might never escape, never be able to fight.

Not a breaking of the Fire-Bringer, but an erasure.

To take all she was, power and knowledge, and rip it from her. To have her trapped inside while she witnessed her own voice yield the location of the Wyrdkeys. Swear the blood oath to Maeve. Wholly submit to her.

Fenrys blinked four times. I am here, I am with you.

She answered in kind. I am here, I am with you.

Her magic surged, seeking a way out, filling the gaps between her breath and bones. She couldn't find room for it, couldn't do anything to soothe it.

You do not yield.

She focused on the words. On her mother's voice. Perhaps the magic would devour her from the inside before Maeve returned.

But she did not know how she'd endure it.

Endure another few days of this, let alone the next hour. To ease the strain, just a fraction ...

She shut down the thoughts that snaked into her mind. Her own or Maeve's, she didn't care.

Fenrys blinked again, the same message over and over. I am here, I am with you.

Aelin closed her eyes, praying for oblivion.

"Get up." A mockery of words she'd once heard.

[gracebethartacc]

WAIT WAIT WAIT So was Amaya once an actual person that Magnifico knew and loved but she died so he recreated her and made her into the marionette? Or was she never a person and he invented an entire new person so he wouldn’t be alone?

i think the second one!! like he just straight up created her from scratch

[vancalox]

I do not go here (Rogue Trader) but everything you post about Leda has me chin-handsing. Very fascinating. I am invested.

im glad youre enjoying my shouting into the void about her !!!!!!! shes so much fun and shes very slowly coming together as a Personality in my brain at long last 🙏 she needs to be rotisserie-chicken-rotated a bit more but im seeing the vision !!!

ive talked before about the allure of the wh40k franchise (for myself personally) being about morality and the question of how goodness can exist at all in a world so devoid of hope. and leda feels like a good answer to that question . like a truly good person who has had no choice but to quantify her goodness with opportunism and underhanded manipulation because survival under warhammer conditions so often comes down to either 1) cruelty and violence or b) abovementioned opportunism and underhanded manipulation lol. and she doesnt want to be cruel. therefore everything else MUST be on the table, if the end justifies the means.

and lastly its interesting to think abt a character who, in their ultimate persuit of a goodness finds their own goodness is eroded and stretched to its limits and eventually you have trouble differentiating what is Genuine kindness and what is secretly a Move. am i making sense. is this thing on.

[impossible-rat-babies]

I’m grabbin eshka and bellara in a loving embrace I lovbe them so much ;—;

[tillman]

Learned today everything I thought I was reading way too into the assassins guild is all literally real and fully canon and fully intentional and so much more fucked than I ever thought has me still reeling. Im still so insane over this.