#not that it's. good. that they were in the crusades.

[avelera]

Ok, I feel like there's three writing concepts that Tumblr needs to get reacquainted with when it comes to understanding fiction:

Catharsis - Sometimes, fiction engages with horrifying, disgusting, painful, or scary concepts in order to bring about a positive experience for the reader. This can be through the hero defeating a disgusting evil, like defeating an abuser for example. One might also get catharsis not out of the defeat of something bad or uncomfortable, but simply from the experience of living it vicariously, such as joy at successfully hiding the body of a murder victim. There are literally countless examples of catharsis in fiction, but most importantly it must be understood, it is completely harmless to real people whether you're experiencing catharsis at something good happening or something bad happening that you get to live vicariously because it is literally fiction. Indeed, there's a lot of evidence that getting to experience catharsis through fiction at evil things, say, living vicariously through a fictional character committing adultery, even if you would never want to cheat on your own partner, actually helps purge the desire to do evil things oneself.

Pleasures of the genre - some genres have expectations that go with them. If you, as a writer, don't include those pleasures, you might turn off the audience. For example, the Western genre has a certain expectation of being set in the 19th c American West. There's usually cowboys and horses involved. If you write a story that's advertised as a "Western" that takes place entirely in a New York City apartment, it might be novel for the genre, but it might also piss off a bunch of readers who were expecting horses. You can do it, obviously, but don't be surprised if readers are confused and perhaps disinterested in the work. More salient to Tumblr perhaps - Marvel believes it is creating action/adventure superhero stories. If a Marvel movie suddenly became a psychological exploration of the internality of a character's relationships, without a single laser beam or fight scene in sight, Marvel expects its audience to be confused and unhappy. We, as fanfic writers and readers might be dying for that story, but that is not the pleasure of the genre that Marvel thinks its audience wants when it walks specifically into a superhero film.

Power Fantasy - this might be one of the most misunderstood or perhaps narrowly applied terms. Yes, sometimes a power fantasy is a 16 year old boy watching a superhero dude with 8 pack abs destroy the bad guy, get the girl, and save the day. Living vicariously through that character is definitely a power fantasy. BUT, a power fantasy can also be fantastical things that the audience wishes would happen in a way that would empower an audience member or make them happy. For example, a billionaire industrialist merchant of death like Tony Stark getting hit by his own weapons and deciding to become a crusader for justice in a way that actually helps normal people is, in fact, an audience power fantasy. We want to believe that if the right bad guy like a billionaire got the right comeuppance like a near-death experience at the hands of their own evils, they'd learn their lesson and become a better person. This is a power fantasy. This is not a thing that actually happens. It's honestly not that different from the power fantasy many gun owners have that if they own a gun, they're more likely to stop a crime in progress with their perfect marksmanship, rather than that they're more likely to kill or be killed by a member of their own family. Understanding the application of power fantasies in terms of good things you hope would happen happening in fiction is not only important for dissecting fiction as an intelligent viewer, it's also important in terms of recognizing when you're being influenced by certain stories and choosing what lesson you take away from it and what lesson (if any) you want to take away from it.

I just feel like these 3 terms are what I see most lacking in a lot of "discourse". Fiction is trying to engender emotion in the audience. Great fiction engenders a wide range of emotions in the viewer, not simply good emotions. Thoughtful fiction might (but not always!) try to impart a lesson. But great fiction can also just want to give you great emotions and make you think outside the usual box of your usual experiences. It's also completely fine for great fiction to just want to give you a great emotion experience like catharsis, or the thrill of a power fantasy. And I really wish these three separate but interrelated concepts were discussed more when it comes to dissecting fiction here on this site.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The Destiny

Summary: You desperately try to know if Gods exist. Chaplain Erebus wants to enlighten you.

Erebus/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, possessive behavior, manipulation, noncon

Author's note: so it's finally happened... God-Emperor, forgive me (no)

Word count: 2666 (lol)

Song: Enigma - Sadeness (Part I)

Sade, dis-moi Qu'est-ce que tu vas chercher? Le bien par le mal? La vertu par le vice? Sade, dis-moi Pourquoi l'évangile du mal? Quelle est ta religion? Où sont tes fidèles? Si tu es contre Dieu, tu es contre l'homme Sade, es-tu diabolique ou divin?

The Imperial Truth is the only truth in the galaxy. All must adhere to it and bring its light to all corners of the universe. If anyone dares to resist or dispute it, then they are not worthy of living. Billions lived with this truth. You lived with this truth.

But for you, these were just words, a tyrannical law that all worlds were forced to follow. Perhaps there was something wrong with you, otherwise how could an ordinary citizen of the Imperium have such... heretical thoughts.

But what happened was. You did not say them out loud, did not try to change people's minds. You simply lived in your vacuum, a safe environment. Even when the Emperor announced the creation of the Order of Remembrancers, you felt nothing. Your talents could have been revealed with new strength, you could have become famous, glorified the Legion, but you did not want this. Why, when you do not believe in the truth.

If it was the truth at all.

And yet your Master Librarian gave you no choice and deliberately obtained permission for you. As if you were a slave without will. But your Master assured you that it was for your own good. It was your destiny to be part of the Crusade.

But you were not upset for long. When you realized that you had a chance to choose a Legion, you took it. Many remembrancers wanted to join the Luna Wolves or the Emperor's Children. Quite a few wanted to join the Ultramarines. But you had another goal. Although it was difficult to get to them, as the Legion refused to accept remembrancers for two years after the triumph at Ullanor. But in the end, even the Word Bearers opened their doors for them.

You were not the best historian or iterator in the general sense. The thing is, you only studied what interested you. And if something stirred your feelings, you dove into it headlong. Your master once joked that if you had your way, you would conquer the world. Part of you wanted to say that you would.

But you weren't interested in material power, wealth, or the Imperial Truth. You were far more drawn to other things. Especially religion. Faith is an unshakable feeling, and the Emperor's desire to rid himself of it seemed almost comical. No, mankind will always seek to find God. The question is which Gods are true and which are false.

You knew that Lorgar's praise of the God-Emperor was not a rumor. This legend was not invented by evil tongues to spite the primarch. No, you knew that the Word Bearers were indeed bringing a new religion to the worlds. One that had long been ignored by the Emperor before he burned Monarchia. After that, Lorgar renounced the faith.

But even though you were not a believer, you knew that faith cannot be renounced so easily. You can't get rid of this feeling that torments your heart. Makes your soul sing and glow, fills with blessed light. You can renounce religion, but not faith. And if the God-Emperor was false, then there are other true gods.

Have the Word Bearers found them? Perhaps. You immediately thought of this when you learned about Cyrene Velantion. The Blessed Lady, whose eyes lost the ability to see after the burning of Monarchia. Some chroniclers had already met her. But it was just simple curiosity or simple politeness.

You wanted something else. To know the truth. You remember you were overcome with fear before meeting the Blessed Lady. Mercy and cruelty go hand in hand. As well as love and hate. Whatever the true deity was, it was not fed only by bright emotions. There is no order, only pure chaos. You were afraid to know the truth, for you were only a mortal girl. But you could not remain in sweet ignorance. Sooner or later the truth would come and it was impossible to prepare for it.

However, Cyrene Valantion did not preach, but listened. She could not tell the Truth, since she did not know it. And yet she listened to your fears, anxieties and doubts. She did not judge you and yet asked if you really wanted to meet the Gods.

And looking straight into the portholes you understood that no, you don't want to. But the divinity won't go away from this, it won't disappear. The Immaterium that opened before your eyes captivates your mind and you regret that you only decided to look at it now.

The battle with the traitors is approaching. Horus has rebelled against the Emperor and Lorgar, along with his brothers, must give the first and last battle. To bring down the Warmaster himself. Perhaps you should have been horrified by such events or proud that you ended up on board one of the saviors of humanity.

But you felt nothing. Perhaps Horus did the right thing by rejecting the Emperor. Or maybe you were completely lost in your doubts, justifying the traitor. You didn't know. You only knew that the troubles of the material world are nothing compared to what is happening in the warp.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" - a deep languid male voice cuts through the silence and you squeak in surprise and turn around.

You had never met him face to face, but you had seen him from afar. You had heard of his influence on the Primarch. Fortunately, it was not the old and burning with hidden malice and envy Kor Phaeron. But chaplain Erebus. There was something about the man that made you want to approach him like a lamb to a shepherd… but something about his predatory eyes and gentle smile repulsed you.

“Y-yes, beautiful.” Feeling uncomfortable, you turned away from the space marine, turning your gaze back to the Warp. You did not know why, but the space behind the ship seemed safer to you than the Chaplain’s proximity.

“In truth, I was disappointed when I returned from the Warmaster. And the remembrancers have arrived here. They scurry like rats through the corridors, reveling in their uselessness. Their only role in this story is to become bloody meat,” the man said the terrible words gently, as if lulling you.

You listened to him in confusion. Of course, you guessed that the Space Marines did not like the Remembrancers much, but you did not think that one of them would say it outright. Even if he was close to Lorgar. As if he did not care. Words and actions are unimportant, and you are meat.

“But I had to admit,” his voice echoes over your spirit and you turn sharply to meet his gaze. The man leaned in, almost breathing on your shoulder. “That your zeal to touch the Gods has excited me.”

“I-I,” you gasped like a fish, while Erebus enjoyed the spectacle. “It is not what you think, I, um-”

“No wonder the Emperor exalted men. You women are so weak.” - Erebus smiled at your indignant expression and you felt fear envelop you again. - “But it is the emotionality of your gender that most strongly pushes you to worship. Beautiful servants of the Dark Gods.”

Your heart was pounding like crazy and you swallowed, trying to step back from the chaplain. Not looking him in the eyes. While the words about the Gods screamed in your head, not allowing you to think rationally.

You wanted to know the Truth. And now it is revealed right in front of you. Did you really think that everything would be so easy? Alas, but it is the chaplain who will reveal the secrets of the universe to you. The one whose face is shrouded in such impenetrable darkness that it is surprising how it has not yet swallowed the whole world.

“P-please, please, I”

“Hmm? Asking to continue? Your desire is the law.” - Erebus mocks your request, circling around you like a beast preparing to attack. - “You don’t believe in the Imperial Truths, do you?”

“I-I do,” you trembled like a leaf in the wind, looking at the floor. - “B-beloved Emperor-”

“Don’t lie to me,” a whistle pierced the air and you watched in horror as a neat cut appeared on your palms. How? Where from? - “I am your confessor and I want you to speak frankly.”

You looked at Erebus with tears in your eyes. The man was not in armor, but in a robe. His face was gentle, while his eyes looked at you with a hidden heat. You didn’t even understand how he cut you. But you knew that he enjoyed your confusion.

“N-no, I don’t believe it,” you sobbed and the man smiled even more.

“Do you believe in the God-Emperor?”

“N-no”

“And in others that you know?”

“No”

“What if I told you,” the man almost whispers, but his words sound clear in your head like the sound of a drum. “That the Gods exist? That they watch over us, are a part of us, because we created them ourselves. Where do you think they are?”

The answer did not have time to form in your head, but your body already knew where the path lies. Your eyes flew up to the porthole, looking at the shimmering purple colors of the Immaterium. Only in such a place could the Gods live. The warp itself was a sea of ​​souls for you.

“Clever girl,” a silent cry leaves your chest as you feel heavy, massive hands on your shoulders. The man's weight pressed you to the floor, turning you to the immaterial world. - “They are right there. In the Immaterium. Waiting for us to destroy the false Emperor. When we bring the Galaxy to the true faith, to”

“To Chaos,” you either ask or state. The man behind you falls silent, before a light laugh creeps through him. The grip on your shoulders tightens. You feel the Chaplain’s fingers drop to your collarbone.

“Yes. To Chaos. But serving the Gods is not at all scary, no. I can show you the truth. You can become one of many servants.” - Erebus leans down and breathes so hotly that your ears burn. - “The Skull God will grant you the desire to taste another’s blood. The Architect of Fate will show you a great future. Grandfather will grant you health, he will take care of you. And the Dark Prince will grant you sensuality, make you his concubine.”

Silence fills the hall. Short in the material world, but it seems like an eternity to you. Before your cheek began to shine with someone else's drool and a seductive promise. A tattooed hand cupped your right breast, stroking a nipple hidden under layers of clothing.

"But I would rather make you my concubine."

You break free from someone else's grasp, overwhelmed by emotion. You look into his golden eyes again. Now you know what heat was hidden there. Lust. And Erebus wanted you to see it. He let you escape because he wanted to.

"What?" - you don't even know how to weave the words together. Doubts, fears and misunderstandings wash over you from head to toe. You felt cheated. You were played with like an insect.

"I was given the power of the Astartes, but a pathetic attempt to correct my mind failed. I have never been loyal to the Emperor and never will be. I desired blood even before the ascension. Never will I be a simple soldier, but only a servant of the Dark Forces." - a deep voice fills the silence, not giving you time to come to your senses. - “And I will never stop desiring feminine beauty, as I do now.”

“You will be my concubine. My lover. My whore.” - the man almost purrs, squeezing his hands like an ancient monk. But his words are not full of holiness. - “The world will soon change, the Imperium will fall. The Chroniclers do not have long left, but you. You have always been an outsider. I will lead you to a new era. It is enough just to throw off the shackles of the old order… you will like your destiny.”

Destiny. Your destiny is to become part of the Great Crusade. So your master told you, so the Emperor called you, announcing a new decree. You did not believe that you could bring something significant to this world by becoming a remembrancer. You did not believe in such a path, you realized the lie and falsity of what was happening.

But listening to Erebus, to your horror, you realized that you believed him. You believe that this is your destiny. To accept the will of the Dark Gods, to become their slave. And to give in to the dark temptation, to let a man tempt you. For you will not be able to hide from the Ruinous Powers, and the Emperor will not take you back into his arms. You were always a heretic, you were born to satisfy your master, who deserved a small reward from the Dark Gods.

You blink, smearing tears on your face, trying with all your might to wipe away the uninvited water. No, these are not your thoughts, these are someone else's desires. You are confused, you are scared. You have no one to ask for help. And even though Erebus is a child of Chaos, he is the only one who cares about you, he will take care of you.

What? How do you know? You are talking to him for the first time in your life.

"These are not my thoughts. This is not me. I, I" - you choke, almost falling over the pressure in your chest. - "I can't think about this, n-no, this is not my fate, not my purpose."

"Are you sure? If so, tell me this straight to my face." - a velvety voice sounded very close and raising your head, you see golden eyes with horror. A deceptively gentle smile is snow-white, but you can't stop seeing blood in the corners of his lips. - "If this is true, you will easily reject me. Tell me that you don't want this."

Pain squeezed your vice. Your heart fluttered, and your legs gave way. You desperately wanted to run away, to hide in the bowels of the ship. You reproached yourself for wanting to touch the unknown. You learned about the existence of Gods. Did it make you feel better? Did you find salvation in the truth?

Unable to bear it, you fall to your knees. If before these tears were running down your face in small streams, now you were choking on sobs. Your hands desperately wanted to grab something, just to not fall into the abyss of despair. You clung to Erebus' clothes like a drowning woman, denying that he is your doom.

"See? It's not so hard to admit your place." - the man gently strokes your head, as if you were a funny little animal, before kneeling. Rough teardrop-shaped fingers softly outline your cheekbones and curve your lips. - "I have been watching you for a long time. I could have taken you for myself a long time ago. But I had to prepare my pet. All the pieces are in place, the second betrayal is approaching."

Rough hands gently undress you, gently stroking the exposed areas of skin. And you listen to what Erebus says, wondering how quickly you fell into despair. How easy was it for you to break and turn human knowledge and arts into a slave? Were the boundaries allowed, or were they always blurred, and you were just waiting for them to finally be erased? Whatever the answer, you knew that in any case, Erebus like a boy played with you.

"We must praise all the Gods." - a tongue full of poison licks your ear before Erebus's eyes are fixed on your lips. - "But for now all the worship will go to the youngest of them."

Your kiss is sensual and tender like the sting of a scorpion.

[kit-williams]

A Drabble

tw: oral; idiots in love;

-Timeline: Before the story proper-

Perturabo was use to Penelope being excitable... she was in her early twenties after all verses him being well over a hundred years old by the time they married. It amused him greatly how differently she acted in the public eye verses with him privately. It made him feel like he had something all his own and it was the truest version of his wife. But he watched her slide into the room looking at him bewildered, "Why didn't you tell me you were hot?!" She says in that whining tone of hers.

Perturabo gives Penelope a deep frown counting slowly in his head. She has a habit of saying stupid things not realizing at first what she says. With her also being from the mountains she sometimes messes up the phrasing... that and her being a commoner once she tends to speak far more casually with him in private... and well of course he loves her. Love was something Pertruabo did not give out his love easily as Calliphone was the only other person he would have said that he loved before he realized he loved Penelope in a different way.

"Let me rephrase!" Her eyes sparkle realizing her slip up, "Why am I only now finding out you had a beard!" She whines softly.

"I see you visited Calliphone." Pertruabo points out knowing full well that the only paintings of him left of his time before meeting Father were with his sister.

"Of course I did. And I only now just saw how amazing you look with a beard! I feel robbed!" Penelope says with her dramatics as he could hear her bare feet upon the stone as she walked over to his desk.

"Unlike Russ I did not enjoy the feeling of my hair getting tangled and knotted. So I shaved my whole body." Perturabo says returning focus to a building design.

"Do you think you'll ever grow it out again?" He feels her cheek against his arm.

"Why?"

"It looked good on you."

"Do I not look good now?" He looked over at her with a blank look on his face. He wasn't afraid of what she would say...

"I fell in love with you now. Clean shaven, tubes, and all. I mean I doubt I looked good when you first met me."

"You looked good."

"Bo I had three teeth missing, crooked toes from them being broken and not healing right, awful hair, and a myriad of other things that would leave many poets desiring something."

That got Perturabo to frown, "That doesn't matter." He bristles not liking how she talks about herself sometimes. He chose her so why does-

"Exactly dear." Penelope says softly with that pleasing smile of hers that causes her eyes to close slightly, "You loved me at my worst looking. No I'm not saying you have bad taste in women I'm saying that if looks were something you were really picky on then I wouldn't have a chance."

"They never complemented my work earnestly." Perturabo says softly.

"Their loss." She says before climbing up to sit on his thigh wrapping her arms around his neck and presses her cheek to his as she smiles just showering him in affection.

He doesn't like showing affection in public a weakness that could be exploited... but she's a mortal and needs it... and he wont repeat nearly letting her walk away from his life by withholding it from her. He sighs softly pulling her into a hug enjoying the comfortable silence before speaking up, "After the Crusade." She looks at him before he continues, "I'll regrow my beard after the Crusade. My head hair..." He feels a modicum of self consciousness at the thought.

"I can live with just a beard... and maybe some chest hair too?"

"You're insatiable." He kisses her cheek seeing the gears in her mind thinking, "You're thinking of something."

"Beard Burn." Penelope says with a sigh.

"You really are insatiable." He laughs softly to which she scoffs.

"Would you rather I be like Lady Dorn? Mindful and demur and stone faced too? Or perhaps I shall have a frown upon my face as well." She says before she pouts dramatically at him.

"You're pouting."

"Well I'm not very good at frowning I suppose." Penelope says before kissing him.

--------------

She doesn't know how this man got into her room... and why he was naked. But she had to admit he was insane enough to try and seduce her though he looked... familiar?

"Speechless?" That familiar voice rumbles out.

Her eyes widen, "Bo?"

"In the flesh," He lies as what this puppet really was is metal, "You really do not like it when I'm closer to your height."

She sighs putting a hand to her cheek, "Like I've said... a decade of being use to you towering over me does not go away just like that. But... I suppose... it's been awhile for you."

"Partially I do not trust myself to not hurt you," He partially lies to his beloved spouse looking away not wanting to think too hard about everything as he came here for a mental reprieve... not to be eaten by guilt...

He looks at her feeling her weight on the bed as she gives him a kiss for his troubles before pulling away and looking over him, "By the Ancients Perturabo you're so hairy!" She says before putting her face into his chest and making a pleased noise.

"Oh yes probably not as hairy as some of my sons from the mountains are," He says with his eyes closed as he can't help but preen under her pleased gaze, "But I hope its enoUGH!" He nearly jumps as he feels her mouth around him as he looks to her sparkling eyes as she grins with her mouth full giving a giggle. He swallows and burns the sight into his very essence, "Well you look quite pleased."

"Oh yesh bery peeesed," Penelope says with her mouth full.

"Don't talk with your mouth full Nelly." Perturabo says causing her to laugh and she lets him slip free from her mouth. As she crawls up to meet him in an embrace and to enjoy the night.

-Timeline: Perturabo got to Penelope first-

Guilliman didn't know what was spurring his traitorous brother on. Perturabo was moving aggressively carving out a large territory for himself. The spies that were able to give any information was sparse and usually wildly outdated by the time it reached him but something was spurring him on. The radical inquisitor was able to get a recording... "Apparently the rapid border expansion of the Iron lord's territory is because of something he acquired. We're uncertain if it's from his recent fights with the other traitor primarchs but the Iron Warriors have been consolidating and changing their focus."

Guilliman was very familiar with how Perturabo was moving... it was his methodical expansion from the Great Crusade... he was bringing planets into compliance. And given the numbers the Inquisiton estimate... Perturabo was a threat. His mind thinks back for a moment... perhaps the thing that changed was Penelope? But that was well over fifty years now when he first got that distress call from the Iron Amarantos and he assumes that the perils on that half of the Cixitrix Maledictum got to her before she could get to one of the crossing points.

"We don't have any information on this sudden Demogauge. All we know is that she just appeared around the same time of the expansion. The Iron Lady as she's been called." Guilliman refrains from rolling his eyes... of course just like Ferrus, Perturabo was associated with Iron.

The pict capture plays as the agents get into their positions. "This one is also important... but its clearly a young Astartes." The Inquisitor says as notes pop up as the image of a... familiar man walks on screen. He looked so much like Perturabo... then again what one of his sons didn't but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that this wasn't a normal son of Perturabo.

"And here comes the Iron Lady." The Inquisitor says but the Astartes uses a different title.

"Play it back now." Guilliman orders as he listens to the title again... "That's not Iron Lady..." He has a sinking feeling he knows who is about to walk on screen.

"What does it translate to then my Lord?"

"Iron Mother."

And upon the screen with a newfound grace she glided into view draped in the colors of the fourth legion straight from the days of the great crusade was Penelope. Though Roboute wonders if it really is her give how she was closer to the size of Alpharius or a Primaris marine and Roboute watched her sweet talk a planet into compliance... because she was the gentle hand to the Iron Lord... she was the gentle hearth where Perturabo was a roaring forge... Roboute didn't have many chances to meet his brother's wife. But he remembers one of the few times she was around and Perturabo was bristling. Perhaps it is the hindsight now to realize that her death is what damned the fourth legion... but he remembers the way they simply looked at each other. Something Roboute was jealous of, at the time, with how tenderly she held his face... how lovingly she looked into his eyes...

"It can't be her..." He whispers... this must have been some poor mortal or some abomination Perturabo had made to replace his wife... if he never got over her.

"Who is she..." An Inquisitor asks.

"Back in the Great Crusade era... before the Heresy... Perturabo had a wife," His eyes focus on one of the Astartes standing next to her before pointing, "and a son."

The Ram, the bulwark of Ossento system, Warsmith of the 101st Grand Company... and more titles but Guilliman couldn't help but see how much he looked like his father... the way he seemed to look into the camera and just smile.

The alarms blare as the sigil of the Iron Warriors appears on the screen. A virus the tech adepts and priests scream as a video forces itself to play.

"Hello Guilliman." Penelope says, "You probably have a dozen questions seeing me again... and like this." She says softly, "I would love to answer them but straying too far from your brother would... well he wouldn't like that but I'm willing to meet you still perhaps not at Macragge but I think you will be please with what I have to say. Take care Lord of Macragge." And with the video ends the virus dies

[queenlua]

hey. hey. what mtg deck would naesala play?

Naesala doesn’t play Magic: the Gathering.  what do you think he is, some kind of nerd?

…that’s what he says, at least. except, at some point, Leanne gets her hands on some cards & omigosh there are ANGELS on here and they’re so pretty!!! & so now she has an ANGELS DECK & she wants Naesala to play, so he’s like “fine i guess”

(this is when they’re all still young and precious and adorable.  also: Ice Age is the hot new set of cards in town.  no one is actually good at Magic yet, the only way you learn the rules is via exciting rumors on the playground, the metagame advances at the pace of a monthly Scrye magazine subscription, etc)

ANYWAY.  Naesala starts out just playing whatever pile of cards Leanne hands to him & is perfectly happy getting rolled by her; he’s really treating it as a social hanging-out kinda thing, kinda like pinochle or whatever

except then Reyson makes a whole THING of it, y’know.  he shows up with his own aggressively handcrafted green/white deck and he’s going to BEAT Naesala and that’s going to make him stop bugging LEANNE.  (i mean, it won’t, but insert whatever adolescent boy logic you like here)

Naesala doesn’t care that much about winning either way, but he *is* a horrible troll and enjoys rankling Reyson

so that’s when he bothers walking into an Actual Hobby Shop for the first time (taking care not to touch anything more than he has to) (when is the last time anyone dusted this place or wiped down a counter, gross) & he asks if they have a copy of The Official Rules & he then proceeds to read them cover-to-cover

and thus, the following week, he’s the one that breaks the news to Reyson, mid-game, that regeneration can’t save your creatures from Wrath of God & Reyson is PISSED.  “that’s not fair” “it’s the rules” “you hafta SAY that first” “sorry Reyson but your river boa is dead” etc etc insert childish squabbling here

anyway.  fast-forward a bunch of years + one genocide later, and, dang, it’s been a while since Naesala and Reyson talked, huh?

Naesala hasn’t touched the game much in the interim.  i mean, he’s played some, because he’s got this one annoying underling who’s really into it, and part of being a good leader is very occasionally letting your hair down & letting everyone dunk on you in some goofy multiplayer MtG game in the mess hall.  so he has a couple gimmicky decks he’s thrown together for casual play.  he’s got a Relentless Rats + Thrumming Stone deck.  he’s got a goofy Tinker deck—he put it together when he was REALLY out of the loop, and thought he’d discovered this great new combo no one else had noticed—he was pissed when he learned that card had been banned, like, two years ago, dude.

but his main deck is this black/white weenie deck that he’s cobbled together over the years—it’s charmingly old school but still holds up reasonably well.  it’s got Hypnotic Specter and Order of the Ebon Hand and Order of the White Shield and Hymn to Tourach, and he’s thrown in a Stromgald Crusader and a Damnation and such over time, it doesn’t exactly adhere to good modern deck design principles but it generally puts in a respectable showing.

meanwhile, Reyson has gotten *way* too into MtG—like, uncomfortably into it. have you ever had a friend who got Way Into A Particular Hobby Because They Were Clearly Desperately Unhappy About Something Else In Their Life? And They’re Trying To Tell You About All This Insane Hobby Drama That They’re WAY Too Invested In And You’re Trying To Find A Subtle Way To Tell Them Bro Get A Little Bit Of A Life Please?  yeah, that.

i mean, it’s understandable!!!  he can’t possibly compete with the hawks in all their reindeer games, dude just literally does not have the muscle, but there is a decent contingent of hawks that are pretty into MtG so he is determined to dominate there.

Reyson is not a natural talent at the game, but he’s a total grind, so he is in fact the most dominant MtG player on all of Phoenicis.  so when Naesala shows up in Phoenicis for the first time in years and years, and Reyson's got all these Unresolved Feelings about that whole deal, of course he challenges Naesala to a game of MtG, yugioh frenemy style, to test his friendship mettle or something

Reyson’s playing a ridiculously aggro red/black deck.  i’m thinking some good filthy gargadon rakdos.  just on and on and on the attack

so Naesala gets out his charmingly old school black/white weenie deck, kinda rolling his eyes, but sure he’ll give Reyson a game if he wants a game, no Reyson he doesn’t know if it’s a standard legal deck or not but it’s the deck he’s got, will you shut up and just play—

and Reyson’s mostly dominating, but Naesala’s doing his level best to hang in there, and the match comes to a rather dramatic climax when Naesala manages to stabilize during one of the games & he taps out to cast a 5-mana big boi—

and, yeah, of course Naesala’s janky old school black/white deck has a Serra’s Angel as a win condition & yeah it’s the exact same one Leanne gifted him years and years ago & they both know it.

they end the game pretty quickly & awkwardly after that & neither of them remembers who actually won.

(wow this Naesala guy is such a simp.  god this is such a fucking cheesy moment.  i hate this, hold on, i’m gonna go throw up in my mouth a little… OKAY i’m back.)

ANYWAY.  all that plays out, doot dee doo, fast forward to post-Radiant Dawn:

* Reyson’s a very happy red/white Boros player these days.  he has chilled out a little bit but is still pretty easy to bait into getting Mad And Competitive again.  (Tibarn frequently does this because it’s kind of cute when Reyson’s pissed about magical cards) ((Tibarn’s decks are absolute piles, oh my god.  just the most janky barely-functional Timmy stuff imaginable. someone explain the concept of a mana curve to this poor man))

* Leanne still likes ANGELS!!!! & also white weenie stuff & also cute stuff generally.  despite her benign appearance & her weakness for playing Cute Stuff over Good Stuff, she’s a more naturally talented player than Reyson & has just enough of a killer instinct to generally come out on top

* Naesala favors black, and mostly just tries to figure out whatever deck he can play to troll his local meta, but he’s still got that black/white deck in a sentimental drawer somewhere.

also: look, i don’t play Commander nearly enough to provide any substantive commentary on that front, but… my very first instinct, when i read this question, was: “this bitch would definitely run Braids, Cabal Minion as his commander.”  except i looked it up and apparently Braids is Very Banned In Commander.  boo.  does the format ban fun, too.  c’mon, let a dude ruin everyone’s game every once in a while!!!  i think Naesala is equally pissed about Braids being banned is what i’m saying

so yeah that is my complete theory of Naesala And Magic The Gathering lol

[princeymarmar]

never have I felt more vindicated for going "idk, I kind of wish loi took place in 1099 instead (to the point I sometimes legitimately forget it takes place in 1094) because I like the idea of it rhyming with the final battle of 1999, Dracula was Dracula for 900 years exactly before his final death feels nicer than 900 and a few years"

than looking it up and finding out that the first crusade, which supposedly Leon and Mathias were a part of, didn't even start until 1095-96, and ended in 1099

[sandwichhour]

A few more @ponymagnets redraws since they're fun style imitation practise

. | . | .

[bonefall]

If Pinestar was the Mi of his kits, why didn’t he try to take any of them with him when he left? Like Brightsky keeping some of her litter. He knew how the clans were, he was specifically leaving to get away from it, why did he choose to leave his children behind?

It wasn't a choice. Brightsky gave birth in the home she bolted to; Pinestar wasn't going to be allowed to take his children unless he snuck out with them.

He wishes he did something, when he sees what became of his son. But he tried to be brave when he left, announcing that he would not be coming back, and where he would be going.

He thought that was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, no one else appreciated it the way he hoped they would.

If he DID though, ThunderClan would not have allowed that. They see it as kidnapping. Being Mi doesn't mean you're allowed to do literally anything you want, especially if you do have a Ba involved.

In cases of handoffs (surrogacy, secret halfclan kits being given to their other parent, etc) it's actually SUPER important you do it before 1 moon, so you can pass the disappearance off as a fading kit. There are no funerals thrown for fading kits besides the Mi and any Ba quietly burying the body, so this is the time where you smuggle the baby out.

So you need all the Ba on board with such a handoff, in addition. Cloudtail is an example of that actually! When Brightheart surrogates, he is fully aware of how many are ACTUALLY faders and who is receiving their child.

Tigerkit was like 3-ish moons when Pinestar hit da bricks, unfortunately there wasn't a way he could take him along... plus it wouldn't quite make sense with how he was having nightmares about murdering his son.

[leroibobo]

venice's levantine synagogue was built in 1541 for use by wealthy sephardim coming from what's today palestine, lebanon, and syria. the synagogue is located in venice's jewish ghetto, where italian, sephardic, and ashkenazi jews were sequestered. all of venice's synagogues were forced to close in 1917 to avoid an austro-hungarian invasion and remain inactive today.

[ruthlesslistener]

Seeing a white person say unironically that PK and WL are colonizers is so fucking telling that they have zero idea of what racism actually is or the implications behind it, they're just parroting the most basic bullshit to look good. Like come the fuck on that take is racist as shit and its not because PK and WL are any less awful than colonizers. It's incorrect at best but genuinely an awful fucking take when parroted for clout bc you dont wanna be seen as problematic

(It's racist bc equating a genocidal god who you have to shred apart with extreme violence in order to have peace with the pain and anger of indigenous people is. Hm. Bad!!! Not to mention the fact that Radi has a very strong Christian angel motif going on and engages in a 'holy crusade' against everyone in Hallownest INCLUDING OTHER INDIGENOUS TRIBES NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE PALE KING like how the actual fuck can you look at her and go 'oh yeah she represents indigenous people because the moths have what look like dreamcatcher motifs with the essence motes' and unironically think you're not being racist. What the actual fuck)

((Double disclaimer: you can actually write a really interesting and nuanced altcanon narrative with this concept but the problem is that almost nobody ever does, they only ever flag it as 'problematic' because they want to look good, not bc they know the implications))

[chronicbeans]

I STARTED WATCHING CAPED CRUSADER AND GOT TO THE EPISODE WITH ANTON AND NATALIA AND I STARED BAWLING OMG.

This show's so good please watch it people PLEASE.

It's REALLY GOOD. If you like the versions of Batman where they let supernatural stuff happen, like ghosts and vampires, this is for you.

[kingcunny]

x

[rainsoms]

i redrew my icon again. the guy :]

(past versions under the cut)

[non-un-topo]

Forever fucked up over the fact that sometimes you have to write the thing you desperately want to read/watch because it doesn't exist yet

[cantsayidont]

December 1977. Given how much Marvel has since pushed Adam Warlock, Thanos, and the Infinity Gems, it's somewhat ironic that Jim Starlin's original Warlock series was rather ignominiously canceled before the story was complete, leaving the conclusion to play out in THE AVENGERS Annual #7 and MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE Annual #2 in the fall of 1977, both magnificently illustrated by Starlin and Joe Rubinstein. Continuing the story into the latter Annual required Starlin to frame his finale as, improbably, a Thing/Spider-Man team-up, but it's Mar-Vell (whose series Starlin had also written and drawn for a while) who delivers the full-page eulogy for Adam Warlock, a minor Kirby character whom Roy Thomas and Starlin had transformed into a tortured cosmic figure, driven by truly existential angst.

Given that Thanos' plot in this story had involved using the combined power of the six Infinity Gems (here still called "Soul Gems") to blow "every star out of the heavens," leaving Adam's vampiric Soul Gem just lying on his grave seems a trifle irresponsible, but at this juncture, Warlock is dead, Thanos has been reduced to a literal monument to his own folly, and none of the survivors understands the full power of the gems. Also, they don't know that the souls of Adam Warlock, Gamora, and Pip the Troll, taken by the Gem before their deaths, now reside in the idyllic landscape of Soul World.

Starlin would subsequently write the end of Mar-Vell in the memorable THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN MARVEL graphic novel in 1982, which returned Thanos as a kind of psychopomp. Alas, Thanos subsequently became too commercially important a villain (in the comics and later in the dreary live-action movies) to ever stay dead or truly learn from his mistakes.

[tovaicas]

my real favourite character is Nidhogg, I’m only obsessed with Estinien bc he’s a hangers-on /jokes

[musical-chick-13]

Again, always very confusing to me when people suffering from The Obsessive Compulsives are Antis™, like these people will not protect you. They believe thought crimes are real. They inherently hate you and WILL throw you to the wolves if they ever come to know about anything related to your intrusive thoughts or the """""weird""""" things they ask you to do in therapy to manage/cope with them.