#i wrote war and peace

[achillesisnotcomingdown]

It's crazy that no one told me that David painted Andromache Mourning Hector

Resting against the bed Hector's body lies on, are his helmet, sword and belt. Under his feet you see, craved in the wooden frame, a battle scene. On his hair lays the laurel crown of victories. Even in death, Hector shall not escape war.

Look at Astyanax, reaching for his mother's chest, asking for her tender affection, but she's not looking at him. She's looking up, as she points to Hector's body. She asks the gods above "why did you have to do that to him ? Has he not served you well enough?"

And then there's Hector. He doesn't look like a corpse that has been dragged on the ground for days, actually, he barely looks dead at all. The wound on his clavicle is clean from any blood, his skin isn't any whiter than Andromache's, and his expression doesn't show any pain or fear (he looks resigned, that's all.)

Hector, the prince, the warrior, lays in a perfect athletic shape next to his gear. He looks like he's ready to get up and head back to the battlefield anytime now.

Because of her clothing and the lighting, Andromache stands out from the darkness of the scene. The painting tells you don't look at Hector, the symbol of the Trojan war, looks at her, the powerless mother and wife. It's her tragedy before anyone else's.

[measureyourlifeincake]

interview with the vampire is wild because it'll have you looking at the protag's two main love interests like "this one is an absolute piece of shit motherfucker and i want him decapitated and set aflame but this one is my beautiful babygirl who can do wrong" and they're both objectively terrible and abusive

[umathurwin]

is there anything you would tweak in canonically to make a slow burn riara endgame make more sense

wym is the evidence not compelling enough??

jk i think above all, we just needed more context. we have all these bits and pieces of longing stares, palpable tension when they’re alone, an unquestionable bad history, and none of this is given any explanation or background!

we’re missing so much information for them that leaves the duo too up for audience interpretation. did they grow up together on figure 8? did they even speak while she was friends with sarah? i’ve opined before that i think they dated— if i grit my teeth and pretend they didn’t, why on earth does she hate him so much in s1? can i be confident any of this is gonna be addressed in s5 while they’re “exploring their relationship”? lol

it’s just amusing because it’s currently a really compelling arc that’s entirely missing the first 3rd. we jump in and they hate each other— they have opposing values and objectives, and his spiraling behavior drives them apart, but this is temporary. they work together, they compromise and learn to trust each other. (the villa scene in barbados is crazy and people don’t talk about it enough; rafe opening up to say he doesn’t want to be violent with the people he loves but he feels pushed to do so? um, i’m sorry? when the fuck did rafe ever open up like that with ANYONE ELSE? not even barry! especially not s—)

and that context has to be explicit if i want the fanbase to agree. i think the people who don’t like this ship assume there is nothing more to their dynamic. just absorbing what’s directly on-screen, not acknowledging subtext or inferring things based on canon. i’ve always taken a more symbolic, metaphorical route of media consumption so i don’t end up all “b-b-but he tried to choke her in s1!!!”. as always in english class, no one here is right or wrong, obviously, but this hyper-literal way of engaging with the show is so exhausting imo

[lord-squiggletits]

With regards to post-war ShockOP, while I do understand the sentiment of Shockwave remaining an empurata since OP loves him no matter what he looks like, I feel like having Shockwave be fixed works for two reasons:

One, empurata is a procedure that can be fixed because there's at least one character (maybe more I can't remember) who gets his hands and face back (Damus/Tarn), and Shockwave even gets one hand back with a cannon on the other.

Two, I feel like Shockwave getting to switch back to his old body is actually really important because, well, Shockwave as he was was very vain and cared a lot about his appearance, obviously putting a lot of effort into it and literally wanting to be known for his beauty as well as his brains. Being empurataed and shadowplayed was literally a violation of everything Shockwave was, so changing back to his old body would be a way of reclaiming who he once was.

HOWEVER, on the note of loving Shockwave as he is now, I DO think that the most interesting/compelling ShockOP scenario would be for Shockwave to revert to his old body, BUT keep his shadowplayed/cold logic personality. I think it would be meaningful for him to maybe not be the person he used to be, maybe not actually FEEL empathy or emotion, but he can still CHOOSE to be a different person, trying to figure out for himself who his "new true self" is when he's not who he was before (Senator) nor who he was during the war (Decepticon).

[jewish-microwave-laser]

once again, "i think it's bad when someone dies" is a hot take

[valewritessss]

In honor of my period coming two fucking days early, here’s a menstruation based pjo question.

Who do we think has the worst cramps vs who do we think is one of those lucky ducks who have minimal bleeding and little to no cramps?

[pangyham]

GAH LONG POST..

xingqiu and chongyun have insanely good potential for angst my god. xingqiu in particular is so fun to think about in the context of chongyun. what do YOU know about chivalry boy

thinking about how he and hu tao kinda operate on similar notions of justice and all that shmick except hu tao is more strictly averse to disrupting the Natural Order (incredibly vague and generalized concept rn sorry) whilst xingqiu sets his principles more arbitrarily. chongyun's presence somehow foils a lot of his notable character traits. gestures hands vaguely in the air but sth sth hu tao would not approve of xq's moral infractions

perhaps im just reading too deep into this but shrugs ill admit something's changed in Me the last 2 years and coming back to xq and cy has me like. scratches head now hold on im not entirely sure if i even like the way xq treats cy. its kinda one of the main points of their dynamic- the whole.. pranking this oblivious guy who i really adore etc. but its deeper implications leave me a little unsatisfied and a little troubled (?).. in the long run i personally dont really see anything substantially appealing about their (leaning towards romantic in this context) relationship other than like ?? the tropes that mhy imposed upon them. they were created as a compatible Duo ykwim. they reference each other a lot in their lore and even in-game but.. idk maybe i just view them separately instead of a joint unit that anaylzing them individually revealed a lot of crevices and cracks in their ship that's built upon their mainstream appeal

but anyway i've thought a lot about them as a duo and is it nuts to say i like them as a romantic ship but if they were unrequited. i can see them working out but it necessitates a complete subversion and reconstruction of xingqiu (chara development basically LOL) on my part that i would totally invest myself in but im not entirely sure how to execute it

i like xingqiu a LOT as a flawed character. i wouldnt go as far as to say hes toxic, just very conflicted and insecure. hes a fun character to think about. re: the hu tao bit i mentioned above, i think they would have a really fun, witty, and transformative friendship

but anyway. yes i like xq and i still like xy. theyre just a bit more complicated now aha. im still capable of enjoying fluffy ship dynamics but lately ive been in a Character Study Mood ... mmm.. ive yet to organize my chongming thoughts

[moonstrider9904]

Wherever Crosshair is, I just hope he's eating his soup in peace

[hana-bobo-finch]

I want SO BADLY to make some random long pdbc comic rn but NOOOOO apparently I can’t just snap my fingers and have one appear in front of me. i would need to “”””plan it out”””” and “””sketch””” it and “””do the line art””” and “””color””” it and “””shade””” it and “””rewrite it so many times to the point it’s not flowing naturally at all and oh no this was a bad idea why did I think I could ever do this properly”””

[sc-intothedarknightofthesoul]

Part of the reason why I've started to screen record my Libra of Soul gameplays (similar to why I recorded my SWTOR gameplays in the past) are in fact because there are story scenes I really liked, but unfortunately cannot replay to an extent.

While yes, I can replay some missions, but only the ones with the fighting gameplay.

My short term memory nowadays also sucks, especially now that I'm writing a fanfic.

[bluberimufim]

I want to sleep

Heyyyyyy I got bored so here's another snippet from "Devourer of Souls". This one was also in the poll (ages ago) - it's the "Asha character exploration" one!

taglist: @little-mouse-gardens, @wildswrites

trigger warnings: kind of suicidal ideation-adjacent, but in a way a very old immortal would be longing for their suffering to end

“You know, I told you you had talent for the frontlines.” “Asha…” The Master Healer Lady pointed a finger in her direction, telling her to shut up. Her other hand held a half-emptied glass of wine, a leftover from dinner. “I told you the Goddess of Time would want you by her side.” Asha looked to the open window, which let in the cool night breeze. Seth sat behind her desk, in the office lit only by a weak old lamp. It must have already been in the building when they’d set up the hospital. “The Goddess of Time has no interest in me.” “Your magic is fascinating!” Asha exclaimed, throwing herself into a chair across from Seth. “I spent the whole afternoon looking at records I have of past healers and I found nothing like it. How do you do it? Seth shrugged. She didn’t like talking about it. “I don’t know. I was never able to heal people the correct way.” She decided to leave the explanation at that. Her thoughts on her own soul and its incompatibility with the rest of the world were for Theo’s ears only. “Mmmmm. I see.” Asha fell silent, fidgeting with her hands, which she’d laid on her chest. She drank the rest of her wineglass and set it down on the table, right beside the bottle. Seth’s own glass remained almost untouched. “You’re dying, aren’t you?” Seth asked. She said it as if it was simply a fact. Something obvious, and not a question with such weight. Asha nodded. A light smile spread across her face. “You’ve noticed too?” “I can see it.” “I think Dora knows as well.” “I can… heal you. If you like.” Asha spread her arms over the table. Her face was near where Seth’s hands lay. She could say that she’d talked to Asha many times, but never like this. Because the person she’d been with hadn’t really been Asha: it was the Master Healer Lady of the eastern hospital. Only in that dimly lit office, for the first time, did she truly see her. “Let it be.” “It’s nothing to me. I don’t even have to use my own soul.” “No. I feel like I’m reaching my limit. I prefer to leave things as they are.” “But…” “Dora has already told you her plans for when I die, right?” Seth let herself sink into the chair, with a sigh. “Yes.” “Then you know how we’re both tired. You know she’s the last thing keeping me here. I give her my soul because it’s what I want to do. It’s how I choose to show her my love and devotion.” Asha paused and straightened her spine. She placed her chin into her hand, looking at her distorted reflection on the wine bottle’s surface, with a melancholic expression on her face. “You’re the only person I knew that’s still alive, you know? All the other healers I met over the years. All the friends I made. A few girlfriends as well. All dead.” She sighed. “You know… for the standards of a normal person, I’m not even that old. But I can’t help but think that the Goddess of Time has cursed me with a horribly long life. It’s very lonely, living like this." Seth couldn’t reply. “The only people I know now are these healers,” Asha continued. “They’re all younger than me and I know that they’re all going to die. And, if they don’t die, they’ll suffer the same fate as me. The only people I can talk to are you three." She pushed her chair away, its leg catching on the soft carpet, and went to the window. “I love Dora. At least like this, I can dedicate the rest of my life to her and, when it’s over, we’ll head together into death. We’re both so, so tired of prolonging the inevitable. I want to sleep."

Cannot believe Asha was a throwaway character I made up for the prologue. Look where she ended up. Wtf.

[astrid-beck]

as someone who with very few exceptions has only ever written fic for very niche fandoms or very niche sectors of larger fandoms it can be demoralizing that no one is reading ur stuff but also it's so fun when u start posting and the people who have been there for years are like oh holy fuck oh thank god fresh blood jesus christ. it's like being a new shipwreck on a dwindling island community. i'm contributing to the economy <3

[moodyseal]

I'm gonna be giving myself a golden star for every time I don't give into the urge to respond "Touch some grass" to anyone who's mean to me online over stupid shit

[ladytemeraire]

"He trained me in how to defeat you, not in how to save you – I don't know how to do any of this, I don't know how to be a proper Jedi, I don't know how to save you, but I know I must nonetheless; I am in pain and grieving but this is all I can do, and I will get both of us out of here or die trying."

sometimes star wars is unsubtle in a bad way and sometimes luke skywalker is dragging his father’s dead weight across the death star floor, sobbing from love and exhaustion

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[sneakydraws]

rate the kuragin trio (however you'd like)

I'll rate their likelihood to get caught cheating/sleeping with other ppls partners based on their social media usage

Anatole - shameless thirst traps all over his twitter, including plenty of responses and qrts in addition to standalone tweets, stupid as hell so often selects the wrong image and posts straight up nudes. But Marya doesn't touch social media as it is devil's work so she's the only person in the world who doesn't know

Helene - insufferable instagram account full of glamorous photos of her "everyday" life, probably a big influencer pushing all kind of morally dubious products. Pierre is nowhere to be seen anywhere on her account, dolokhov boris and whoever else she's banging do show up in photos occasionally but she keeps it classy. However her dms are full of shameless incriminating messages just waiting to be screenshotted

Ippolit - one of those public figure accounts that appears to be the battleground where his team/social media manager is desperately trying to wrangle control away from him but he just won't stop tweeting absolute nonsense. At some point @s Andrei in a barely coherent thread containing unsubtle references to his wife

I lied idk how to rate them i just went on a beautiful mind journey and wanted to share the results