#and remain her sword

[ilynpilled]

why must everything that the text clearly states atp be misconstrued like i really dont get it he has plenty of flaws in that relationship but we, and cersei, know that he was ready to kill robert for just the disrespect of the cheating if cersei said the word. he doesnt concern himself with the personal consequences, he is reckless, detached from a lot of things, and can close his eyes at the future if he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. also the concern over the “shame” and ned type judgement feels so overestimated to me atp. he never regrets aerys, he is mad at how he is perceived (but again, notably doesnt try to rectify it by telling the truth for a lot of complex reasons), but he would never take it back. if he believes its the right thing to do, and is not overdosing on copium trying to juggle vows he cares about, he will do it, reputation be damned. though he has selfish concerns regarding being viewed as good, the internal matters so much more than the external: see weirwood dream: who actually shows up? what makes the fire go out? “it was not him. it was never him”, see the trebuchet fiasco, see the choice in adwd. why shouldnt we take cersei at face value when she implies that if jaime knew about the physical abuse he would have killed him? he loves and cares about cersei to an insane degree, even if he can be selfish toxic and unhealthy too. not to mention he would be glad to kill robert anyway lol. i really find it very very difficult to imagine that he wouldnt have killed him based on almost every single part of his characterization.

[alphagirl404]

I find it so crazy to think that the sole reason Hylia chose Zelda as her mortal reincarnation was not because Zelda had magic, or was part of some powerful bloodline, but because how she foresaw the lengths of how much Link loved her

Meaning if Link happened love some other girl like Karane, Orielle, Kina, or Peatrice just as much, Hylia would've probably chosen them instead of Zelda. One of them could've been the Goddess reborn as a mortal, and the starter of the Royal Family Bloodline that lasts over many centuries.

[backpackingspace]

Okay yes odysseus absolutely fumbled first meeting with penelope. He was an absolute goof. Tripping over himself, blushing, loosing games because penelope waved at him, getting caught mid lie ect ect

But have we considered penelope was equally a mess?

[wombrion]

HEY who is that feller you did in post 719868046861385728 I need to know everything I possibly can about them Immediately that's such a compelling and amazing piece

yeag shes an oc of mine:) i know nothing of her other that shes a failgirl and experiencing some dantes inferno shit (gets dragged around by dubious being ((other oc)) on a fucked up realm)

i dont know much abt the whole universe i want them to be in but the main theme is that they live in a giant being that is currently dying of starvation, and theyre trying to escape it before it dies and rots up lol

heres some more art i did, shes pretty fun to draw^_^

[iatethepomegranate]

Where was that post about Laudna's storyline being an allegory for addiction? I feel like this explains her behaviour A LOT in this conflict

Edit: Marisha confirmed this. The perils of live blogging, hey

[joeysmuttonchops]

[Wonder Woman (2023) #5]

if tom king did one thing for me it was these four pages. everything else ill kill him for, but these four pages DO hit.

Yara and Diana's relationship is more like Diana and Artemis' than it's like the other wonder girls. at this point Yara are Diana have only had a few major interactions: in Wonder Woman Rebirth #794-796, where Diana asks Yara for her help with Eros; in Trial of the Amazons when Diana gifts Yara with a new tiara (which she's wearing here), and in Wonder Woman Rebirth #800, in a dream sequence where they discuss sacrifice for the "cause". While its implied that Diana feels some responsibility for Yara, its only really because Yara is so much younger than her, and Yara doesn't return the kind of respect to her of a mentor, because she was never Yara's mentor. In many ways they see each other as equals. Or, if you have to interpret it through a hierarchy, as work friends with an age gap-an important and underutilized relationship.

which makes it interesting, how risky Yara's challenge is. Cassie and Donna's don't put either of them, or Diana, in harms way, but here Yara and Diana are, shooting each other. it could imply seriousness, that Yara is willing to risk this, or more of a measure of reality. Compared to Yara, both Cassie and Donna seem to be playing games (and Donna literally is). Even with Diana's line that Yara IS playing games, Yara ends up bleeding. It's also a major point for Yara, whose mythmaking is already a major character trait. Yara's challenge is by far the most cinematic, and it's impossible for her to have intended anything else.

i also want to point out that this is, essentially, four trick shots. meeting the first 6 arrows together means that one of them, if not both, were aiming for the arrows and not the other person for their whole conversation.

also "Modesty is not a virtue of the gods, nor of I," rips as a Yara line, even if you're making her talk old timey for no reason. why did you do that.

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

In commemoration of this

Let us remember what Frida can do canonically

gave her the ol' Shikamaru's Kagemane no Jutsu treatment for ninpo which is fitting really since

And what's more ninja than shadow manipulation?

Just y'know, from a 90s weeb standpoint who saw how fucking obsessed U.S media was with ninja in the 80s and 90s, the earlier TMNT could have stood to be MORE ninja. The newer iterations kinda sorta have gotten "more ninja" instead of generic milk chocolate martial arts with a shiny ninja candy coating

[fideidefenswhore]

His 'merciful inclination and princely heart' meant he was always ready to 'take pity and compassion on all offenders repentantly crying'. In the case of his daughter, since she was, 'frail, inconstant and easy to be persuaded,' he would be glad to remit some of his displeasure.

The King’s Pearl: Henry VIII & His Daughter Mary, Melita Thomas

[randomnameless]

Any headcannons for any Agarthan reaction to Billy joining them in Tru Piss? Cause having Sothis 2.0 on your side must've surprised them. Like Thales going "They do know we killed their father‚ right?" or someone going "We need a backup plan to deal with them‚ because we only killed an unconscious Sothis by proxy." (Also correct me if I'm wrong‚ but doesn't Thales only appear disguised in Tru Piss? So maybe they have a "Don't remind them of Jerry‚" scheme for Billy.)

Yep,

IIRC, Uncle is still Uncle because Thales doesn't remove his meatsuit.

I guess they suppose Billy isn't the Fell Star yet - but only a vessel that hasn't recovered their memories - otherwise why would they target one of their spawn - even if they got her powers.

I suppose their endgame plan was to get rid of both Supreme Leader and Billy - before Billy becomes as powerful as Sothis herself once was (if that's possible?) but I guess they were pleasantly surprised at the end of Tru Piss as Billy lost their powers/connection to Sothis - this one was just a dud after all!

(even more so if they realise the Fell Star's Crest Stone finally disappeared!)

Tru Piss being a player fantasy means Billy and the BESF managed to defeat Uncle, but come on. Even if we smoke and assume Firdhiad wasn't Nuked when Rhea kicked the bucket, I can't see the BESF storm in Shambala and survive the assault against Agarthans - when the other groups only do because Rhea, once again, sacrifices her life to protect everyone.

[starsaught]

Boredly, the Princess busied her hands shuffling. The deck in her palms worn, ripped in some edges but held strong, although ready to retire. Octavia hadn't been paying attention to the cards, her thoughts elsewhere.

A card fell out, landing upright, if not a little crocked, due to the unmade blankets that was her bed. Ceasing the shuffle, she reached down to examine the card ; The Emperor, funny, she always saw that card as her..

Her fingers tightened around the deck, feeling them nearly cave in her grip as the Emperor was set carefully back down, her attention fully captured.

❝ Okay, I hear you. Tell me about this Emperor. ❞

Shuffling the deck, the question spoken with every careful pass of the cards, a near beg to the untold story to finally come to light.

Finishing her shuffle, Octavia was hesitant in flipping the card from the top of the deck. The cards beckoned to be read, she couldn't ignore the story they wished to tell ; but it left her feeling fear - for even they knew they had a story to tell. & she needed to merely listen.

Slowly & with careful precision, she flipped the card & placed it next to the Emperor. The Tower. Well, that much she already knew ; it wasn't new information of the events that unraveled. Even she knew each card's meaning changed depending on what sat besides it.

A sudden change in authority, the need to maintain control amongst the chaos. Adapt & change.

Returning to the deck, deciding to pull from the bottom. If there's a meaning behind these cards, then surely it needs to follow the story. The next card to enter the scene, The Five of Cups. Being left out ; abandonment.

Tapping blackened talons against the remaining cards, Octavia sat silently. These cards could have helped prior to the shift ; but nothing could have prepared her for this.

❝ One more. Tie this reading together for me. ❞ Another shuffle, a mantra on repeat to make sense of the events transpired. An answer ; that's all she wants.

Seven of Swords.

Something did feel off about the ordeal. Her Uncle's almost too enthusiastic attitude about moving in, her mother's lack of care for her father's banishment. It made sense.

Still, the question remains. What can she do now?

[basingstokemercury]

(I took a gamble and it went wrong. Partly because the low-Charisma characters tried to help in a tense negotiation, but you know what? Zhalien probably miscalculated. If she lives she'll accept the blame. Anyway, a lot of us died, partly because of bad tactical decisions previously. Now we have several resurrection rituals to perform, and limited time before returning to battle. Oh, yeah, Zhalien was dying and mentioned her son for the first time.)

Bard: We should resurrect Zhalien next.

Me (OOC): Oh, I'm fine if Zhalien dies, I have Ava (backup).

Barbarian (OOC): I'm not fine if she dies.

Bard (OOC): Me neither! Now I know she has a son!

[numbaoneflaya]

WOAHHHG OAHHHHH random spur of the moment drunk oc posting. its thursday man. anyway Espira time

Espira really, really wants to tell people what to do all the time. Its the dragon soul in her, its her eldest daughter syndrome, its her savior complex, its the fact that shes actually an elite trained soldier and DOES know better most of the time. But she also self aware enough to know that that is a bad thing, the need to tell ppl what to do all the time. Her controlling nature comes out like a leak out of a dam- making sure people with her are well fed and rested, making people be good and well and happy because its the best possible way to use that energy of control and domination that eats at her from the inside. Shes the dragon born, dovahkiin, and dragons have an innate need to both dominate and protect their hoard. She is.. well, shes not beating the hoard allegations. Her biggest battle on that front is when she finds dead peoples things in caves and such. Shes really, REALLY upset at the thought of someone dying unmarked and forgotten, so she takes dead wanderers and warriors items after she buries them. She both cant bury them because she thinks a part of a person lives on through their weapons and armor and what they held dear, and she doesnt trust people for the most part enough to sell them. So like a dragon she keeps guard over these ghosts things until she finds the right type of person to give them to.

and also espira and serana are both. As I may put it. Extremely slow burn. Both very shy and very close guarded abt their own emotions and feelings. I’m talking years. They have a very close friendship for a long time.Both having a fully homoerotic like very close friendship while harboring feelings for the other like “why do I feel like this I don’t wanna make her uncomfortable 😔 what if I ruin what we have” and everyone else around them is like. For the love of god

[twinklecupcake]

Saw the trailer for Netflix's Damsel and god, the way my brain immediately went "Oh damn is she gonna fuck the dragon?"

I'm too predictable.

[gwaedhannen]

WIP it good Wednesday

Various open tags, making this an open tag, y'all know the drill.

In which the sons of Eärendil and Elwing arrive on Balar and are introduced to their heritage weapons:

Celebrimbor leads them deep into the citadel of Balar. The door he stops at is unmarked, yet a helmed guard stands sentinel. She greets their cousin with a nod as he begins searching his many pockets. “You’ll need arms. Proper arms, that you can actually wield.” A shake of his head. “I’ve had ample reasons to question my uncles’ judgement over the years, but giving you Narsil? It took Maedhros a century to build up the muscles to use it one-handed. Ah!” He’s finally found the keys, and manages to fit them into the lock on only the second jab. Elrond glances at the greatsword slung over his twin’s back, too long to wear at the hip. “He called it weregild. I think he just didn’t want to look at it anymore.” They know the sword too well. They first saw it piercing through Evranin’s heart, glimmering in flames, raining blood on their faces.

---

Celebrimbor takes out the bow next, running his hand down the recurve. “This was wrought by Tuilann of Nargothrond, from the trunk of a, hmm. My plant-lore is ever lacking.” Elros reaches for the other end, feels the grain and lacquer. “Hickory!” “Aye, hickory! A single tree, grown for this purpose over decades, on the shore of Tarn Aeluin.” Celebrimbor continues tracing down the bow’s spine. “It was felled and the bow crafted when the House of Beor first came to that land. It was gifted by—” He pauses, finger upon the sigil of Beor carved above the arrow-rest. “Ooohoho, is that so?” His eyes suddenly flick back to them, remembering his audience. “Well. That’s not quite my story to tell. It was gifted by…the sons of Finarfin to the lords of the House, and given to Bregor son of Boromir, then the foremost commander of his people. From him it passed to his son Barahir, and then to Beren, who was hunting with it when his father and companions were slain. It served him well on his quest, but afterwards was left with his law-father, for Camlost could use it no more. In Menegroth’s armory it remained until a young maiden sought to arm herself and venture forth after her family.

[justabiteofspite]

Word of advice: Don't accidently misclick and shoot a flaming fist instead of the wooden barrier when trying to save Florrick from the burning house in Act 1. You might almost lose your duo honor mode.