#who was she. what were the circumstances of her ascension.

[pyro-madder]

actually yeah i've been meaning to do this. bloodborbe homies. give me your headcanons and/or theories for rom. now 🫵

[deliciousangelfestival]

I Hate It When You're Drunk - 4

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden love between a princess and her bodyguard. They love each other deeply, but their relationship is threatened by the tyrant king's oppressive rule and their differing social statuses.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“When the time is right, we will make our move,” Bucky declared, his voice resolute.

“Finally, our time has come,” Isaac, one of the resistance members, said. He was among the many whose family had been ruined for not supporting King Leonard's ascension.

“We want justice for what we've been through!” Lucas, another member, shouted, rallying the others into a cheer.

It was a well-known fact that King Leonard was a tyrant. Though the country appeared prosperous, many suffered behind the scenes, including the members of Bucky’s resistance. Each person in this room had been directly affected by Leonard’s ruthless rise to power.

The opposition, whether politicians or civilians, faced dire consequences for resisting the king. They lost their assets, their money, and often their lives. Bucky himself was a victim.

His mother, a vocal opponent of Leonard, had disappeared when Leonard began his ascent. When Bucky asked his father about her, he only responded, “It's best if you act like she didn’t exist.”

Those words left a lasting mark on Bucky. Over time, he discovered he wasn’t the only one who had lost a family member to Leonard's tyranny. At the military academy, he met Isaac, Lucas, and others who eventually formed the resistance.

As they planned their coup, the room buzzed with intense discussions and strategies. Isaac turned to Bucky, saying, “You play your part well. If we get the king, you could easily enter the royalty since you have the princess under your palm.”

The mention of you changed the atmosphere around Bucky. He glared at Isaac. “She’s not part of the plan.”

Seeing Bucky's anger, Isaac raised his hands in surrender. “Yup, I'm sorry,” he muttered before stepping away.

Bucky harbored no love for the tyrant king, but his feelings for you were different. You were innocent, a victim of circumstances beyond your control. He had grown up close to you and knew your struggles. This coup was as much about setting you free as it was about toppling Leonard.

The night was filled with fervent planning. Detailed strategies were discussed, each member contributing to the master plan to overthrow the king.

The next day, Bucky received a call from you. “The king wants to meet us,” you said, uncharacteristically cheerful. Given your complicated feelings toward your father, it was rare for you to show such enthusiasm.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

The day before

“Your Highness,” the servants greeted you as you nursed a headache with aspirin.

“Yes?” you replied, glancing up from your seat.

“Your Majesty has invited you to play chess.”

Both you and the king had starkly different personalities, yet you shared a common passion for chess. You found solace in the game’s strategy, a rare escape from the burdens of your royal duties. The king, ever the strategist, enjoyed the mental challenge it provided, a way to sharpen his mind amidst his ruling responsibilities.

“Tell the king to give me 10 minutes,” you instructed, rubbing your temples.

“As you wish, Princess.”

You knew better than to keep the king waiting too long. Within the allotted 10 minutes, you arrived at his game room. The room was a relic from another era, with its only entertainment options being a billiard table and a chessboard. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and leather.

Leonard had been waiting, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp with anticipation. He gestured to the chessboard between you. As you both took your seats, the game began. The soft clacking of chess pieces and the occasional murmur of strategy filled the room.

Leonard broke the silence. “Tell me, why don’t you want to marry Cassian?”

You moved a pawn, your eyes focused on the board. “My heart only belongs to one person. If I married another, I’d be a runaway bride.”

Leonard scoffed, clearly unimpressed. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the armrest, his gaze fixed on the chessboard as if it were a mere inconvenience.

You countered with a steely resolve. “It would be humiliating for you and for me. The king of Verudian have to bowed his head in apology to another country. It would be dreadful for both you and the kingdom.”

You leaned forward, attempting to reason with him. “Just as you loved my mother, the only person who truly held your heart, I feel the same way. It’s not something I can just ignore.”

Leonard’s hand hovered over a chess piece, the weight of your words hanging in the air. He sighed deeply. “In this world, you are the only one who shares my blood. My daughter. I want the best for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission. The words were a rare glimpse into the complexity of his feelings. “I understand what’s at risk. But you can’t ignore my feelings in this. I’ve spent years pleading for your blessing, and I’ve been patient. For once, can’t you consider what would make me happy?”

Leonard’s face remained a mask of stern calculation, though there was a flicker of something more vulnerable in his eyes. He exhaled sharply as if the weight of your words had momentarily pierced through his armor of indifference.

“I want what’s best for you, not just for me,” Leonard finally said, his voice tinged with reluctant resignation. He reached for a chess piece, his movements deliberate and slow.

His hand hovered over the piece, his fingers trembling slightly as he set it down. “You have the same persistence as me, and it’s clear you’re not going to give up easily.”

You leaned forward, heart pounding. “So, you’ll allow it?”

Leonard fell silent, his intense scrutiny making you shiver. After a moment, he reached out, his hand firmly grasping the piece you had taken. He moved it decisively, and then his eyes met yours.

“If I give you my blessing, will you stop hating me?” he asked, his voice softer but carrying a heavy weight.

You flinched, momentarily thinking you had misheard. After all these years of pleading for his blessing, could this finally be the moment you had waited for?

“Father?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Leonard looked at you with a resigned yet stern expression. “You’re right. You have the same persistence as me. All you’ve ever wanted from me is to marry him.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “I’ll allow it.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, you stood from your seat and embraced him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you said, your voice breaking with relief.

Leonard was taken aback by the sudden display of affection. It had been a long time since you had shown him such warmth. His stiff posture softened, and for a moment, he was caught off guard by your genuine gratitude.

Finally, your prayers had been answered. The weight of the past years seemed to lift off your shoulders as you relished the moment.

“You should start the wedding plans,” Leonard said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“This early?” You asked, still glowing with excitement.

“You’ve been waiting long enough,” Leonard replied curtly. “Why delay any further?”

“Yes, you’re right. I’ll go tell Bucky right away.” You said, already eager to share the news.

Leonard nodded. “After that, have him come to see me.”

“I will,” you promised, turning to leave with a bounce in your step.

As you left to share the good news with Bucky, Leonard remained in the room, his eyes fixed on the closed door.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. He picked up the knight chess piece, his fingers tracing its contours. After a moment, he broke the top part of the knight with a deliberate snap. The shattered piece fell to the table, a dark reflection of his true intentions.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Present day

Bucky could hardly believe his ears when you announced, “He finally gave us the blessing.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace at that moment, his heart pounding with relief and unrestrained joy. Every sacrifice, every tear you had shed, and all the time spent waiting culminated in this single, breathtaking moment.

Bucky’s eyes were moist with unshed tears, his voice choked with emotion as he murmured against your hair, “I can’t believe it’s finally happening. We can be together.”

The weight of the years of struggle and hidden longing seemed to lift off both of you as you walked hand in hand towards the king’s chambers. The halls of the castle, usually cold and imposing, felt warm and alive with the promise of change. You and Bucky exchanged smiles and knowing glances, savoring the rare moment of peace before facing the king together.

When you entered the chamber, you both bowed deeply. “Your Majesty,” you said with a voice full of gratitude.

Leonard looked up from his desk, his expression inscrutable but his eyes sharp and calculating. “Princess,” he acknowledged with a nod, “Bucky.”

You stepped forward, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “Thank you, Father. I never thought this day would come. I’m so grateful for your blessing. It means everything to us.”

Leonard’s eyes remained on you, but Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. He struggled to focus on the conversation, his mind racing with questions and doubts.

Why now? He thought, Why did the king suddenly relent? The timing doesn’t feel right.

Leonard then turned his attention fully to you. “You should discuss the wedding plans further with the planners. Now, leave us alone,” he said, his tone firm yet not unkind.

You nodded, still clutching Bucky’s hand, and left the room, leaving Bucky alone with the king. The atmosphere in the room shifted as soon as the door closed behind you. The air grew thicker, and Bucky’s instincts screamed at him that something was wrong.

The once grand and regal space now felt oppressive and claustrophobic, the air thick with an unspoken threat. The golden light that had once symbolized grandeur seemed to cast long, sinister shadows across the room.

King Leonard, who had earlier appeared as a benevolent father figure, now exuded an aura of dark authority. He rose from his throne with a deliberate movement, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits of cold resolve.

The transformation was chilling; the king’s earlier warmth was replaced by a ruthless edge, a reminder of why he was feared across the kingdom.

With measured steps, Leonard approached an old display case at the room's far end. Inside was a sword—a relic of the past, its blade reputed to have ended countless lives.

It symbolized power and brutality, a testament to the king's unyielding dominance. Leonard’s hand moved with a practiced grace as he lifted the sword from its resting place, the blade catching the light and casting a menacing gleam.

“Your Majesty thank you for the blessing,” Bucky said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He tried to mask his fear but couldn’t hide the slight tremor in his tone as he watched Leonard approach. He bowed deeply, his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

Leonard’s footsteps echoed ominously against the marble floor as he advanced toward Bucky. The sword, now in his hand, seemed to radiate a malevolent energy. The king’s face, once serene, was now a mask of grim determination. Each step Leonard took seemed to reverberate with the promise of impending violence.

Without a word, Leonard closed the distance between them. The sword was held aloft, its blade catching the light and casting a cold, steely gleam. Leonard’s movements were precise and deliberate as he positioned the sword at Bucky’s neck. The cold metal pressed against Bucky’s skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

Bucky’s breath came in short, shallow gasps as he felt the sharp edge of the blade graze his neck. The metal was unforgivingly cold, a harsh contrast to the warmth of his own fear. Leonard’s hand was steady, his grip firm and unyielding as he held the sword in place.

The intensity of the moment was palpable. Leonard’s eyes were fixed on Bucky with a look of icy disdain, his expression devoid of any hint of mercy.

Leonard’s voice, when he spoke, was a low, dangerous growl, each word dripping with contempt. “Do you think I wouldn’t know about your little plan? You’ve been living in my kingdom, plotting behind my back. How dare you try to undermine me.”

The words were a cold, harsh reprimand that only heightened Bucky’s dread. He could feel the sword’s sharpness pressing against his skin, a tangible threat that made his pulse race and his breath hitch.

Leonard’s grip on the sword remained steady, his gaze unflinching. The blade’s edge was a constant reminder of Leonard's brutal power—power that was both feared and revered. He was the tyrant king.

Join the tag list:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

@evie-119

@mrsstuckyboo

@ghalouha

@iamasimpingh0e

@loki-laufeyson68

@buckybarnessimpp

@milllieeee

@ashdoctor

@mushycore

@crazyunsexycool

@anixerz

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@ghalouha

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@kaithesimps-blog

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@julvrs

@thebuckybarnesvault

@saiyanprincessswanie

@unaxv

@danzer8705

@breathlesspieceofdeath

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 12/8

@williamjakespeare asked: One of the recent posts concludes that the circumstances around Vriska's god tiering were "so much worse than anything I thought was going to happen" and I'm curious. What exactly did you think was going to happen?

Back before I knew how God Tier ascension worked, my theory was that Vriska's Quest Bed might grant her access to a special dream moon, and that Tavros's presence there might throw some sort of spanner into the works. I wasn't sure what kind of spanner, and my theories were very vague.

Vriska's a huge taskmaster, and I thought she might have given him an instruction that he was unwilling or unable to carry out. Like, maybe she told him to leave her God Tier Moon, and he was unwilling to abandon her to a fate he didn't understand.

I guess I was right. In the end, she did give him an instruction he couldn't carry out.

Anonymous asked: For the kid who was the most vocal about her 'distaste' for their guardian, having Mom be the reason that Rose snaps is actually very sweet, in a sad way. ~DJ

The above line from Rose implies that she had a lot more affection for her mother than she was letting on.

Their relationship was complicated, but if Rose viewed her as a sister, I think there had to have been some camaraderie between the two. We just never saw it on-panel, because the narrative began on the most stressful day of Mom Lalonde's life.

@elkian asked: So, fun fact about that time John joked about rescuing Rose from the Broodfesther Throes and you were going "yes it's a joke BUT IT'S ALSO SERIOUS JOHN!!!": Hussie's author note for that page is almost verbatim your reaction. Homestuck is as serious as it is silly and typically both at once.

Every time Hussie and I share the same thought, a subtle chill runs down my spine.

@gl1tchypyr0 asked: In regards to the thing about LOWAA potentially corrupting Eridan, itd be a little smart to remember what Sollux said in his conversation with Terezi about a prophet has to go blind to earn their stripes or how an angel earns its wings, Sollux states that 'angels are terrible feathery demons that paradox space uses to usher in the end' and Eridan was actually killing them even if he wasn't Supposed to. If you really think about it I actually kinda find it sad? If he was already a troubled individual Before Sgrub and then was on a planet of 'terrible feathery demons' that whisper prophecies in his earfins for an entire month that he was made to feel he Had to kill, honestly it makes me nervous imagining just how many doomed timelines there are where Eridan snapped far earlier. Not to mention the fact he's also on the Blue Team ie Derse players ie most susceptible to waking up in his sleep and seeing tentacles and eyeballs staring back at him (not that he wouldn't be /used to that/ back on alternia with his job of feeding glybgolyb so Feferi wouldn't have to). Not really defending eridan but just, food for thought kinda? About how LOWAA might have affected him enough for Doc Scratch to bring up such a hypothetical. The idea that Eridan was already pretty bad before the inevitable Sgrub trauma and then LOWAA made thinks /worse/.

Oh, don't get it twisted - Eridan's just as much of tragedy as any of the other trolls. He's certainly written to be less sympathetic, but he didn't deserve to be raised in the Alternian Empire. Just like Vriska and Equius, he could have been a much better person, if only he was raised in a less violent and oppressive culture.

Of course, he could still be an asshole if he was born on Earth - but at least he'd have a chance to be better. Alternia stacks the deck against you in ways that simply aren't fair.

@galaxa-13 asked: It is very satisfying watching you pick apart everything Doc Scratch says without playing his game. Rose wishes she could, but unfortunately she is a child and not as smart as she pretends to be. Usually it's fun to watch people theorize because of what they don't know, so it's extra fun when someone as smart as you doesn't have the pieces I already do. Just chortling to myself, "Oh ho ho, just you wait!" @elkian asked: I may have sent this before but I ADORE your Doc Scratch dissertations. What few liveblogs (and fandom during/after the run) I've followed have other strengths and focuses, so these moments where you stop everything to shred his dialogue to see if fhere's even a GRAIN of truth are novel and absolutely fascinating. I think you've done the most thorough analyses of any 1 of his convos let alone all of them and I'm here for it. Rip that shady motherfucker apart! :D

Despite myself, I am enjoying puzzling out the true meaning of what he says. I've just got to remember that he is fully capable of lying.

I do think, on balance, that there is some hidden meaning to his words - it's just hard to find. His '50% chance of ascending' statement is definitely foreshadowing something, I just can't figure out what. I think it has something to do with the reboot session, but I'm waiting to learn more about the reboot before I really start theorizing about it.

Anonymous asked: In case the 7 Gates haven’t been fully explained yet — the Gates over a player’s house are all either entry (transport to somewhere on their planet) or exit (destination of a gate on the planet of the previous player in the chain). Using John as example: Build to gate 1, which takes him somewhere on LOWAS. Find gate 2 elsewhere on LOWAS, this will take him to the matching gate over Rose’s house — build up to her gate 3, which will lead to somewhere on LOLAR, then find the planet’s gate 4, etc.

Here's my old interpretation of the Gate system, from way back in Act 4. I'm fully in agreement with you about John's path here - the problem is that when you use it to extrapolate Rose's path, things start to fall apart.

See, this ordering method implies that in a four-player chain, your own Seventh Gate is located on the Land preceding yours, rather than your own. This means that Rose's Seventh Gate is the one that got John killed on LOWAS - the one which leads to his Denizen. It additionally implies that John's Seventh Gate should have been on Jade's Land instead. It's all very confusing.

Anonymous asked: Something I love about how this god-tier immortality system is described, however it works, is that "remaining neutral" will PROBABLY keep you alive… but when you think about it, remaining neutral means not making a REAL DIFFERENCE. As a God, if you want to make a difference in the world around you -- good or bad -- you have to be willing to stake your life on it.

True! It's an interesting balancing mechanism, where each God Tier has to decide whether their life is more valuable than their personal agency. Gods who avoid Heroic and Just situations are almost invincible, but they're also completely ineffectual.

I'd obviously try to game the system somehow, but the vague, subjective definitions of Heroic and Just make this a difficult system to game.

@spyril4132 asked: with the reveal of the heroic-just system, there's now a reason you might not want to god tier immediately: sacrificing one of your selves for a heroic cause and then doing what aradia did (but intentionally)

Good point. Although, I'm not sure I'd want to rely on the Quest Slab for my resurrection - at least, not yet. We don't really know the rules are, and how they differ from normal Quest Bed rules.

Anonymous asked: "I don't really care if Paradox Space sanctions his actions - he needs to be taken down, and if that upsets the natural order, then it's time for a new natural order." i think you for sure lean more lifeways on the life/doom player axis lol. oh, the laws of the multiverse say death is inevitable? well, that fucking sucks and i hate it, so i'm gonna wedge myself into the cracks and loopholes and *make* it evitable one day at a goddamn time, life finds a way motherfucker.

Life finds a way, motherfucker!

I actually find both Life and Doom fairly interesting, as Aspects go. I think, at this point, I'm committed to giving one to my kidsona, and the other to my trollsona.

If another Aspect ends up catching my eye, we'll have to start workshopping a Carapaciansona!

Anonymous asked: I think you got it kinda twisted what's going on with Rose. Yes she is slightly corrupted by the Horrorterrors powers/boons and Scratch's… Sheer Existence. But in her mind, she's doing this to Save her session, so if she does go God Tier and gets killed, her death wouldn't be Just, it would probably be Heroic. As she probably would've died tryong to save her session, which would cancel out the corruption from Scratch and Horrorterrors. Either way she still dies, but it's the difference in Why she dies that's important. […]

See, this is the whole problem, isn't it? These terms are incredibly subjective.

I personally think Rose's attempt to save her session is extremely Heroic - but Skaia couldn't possibly approve of her assault on the game, so I don't think it would cancel out her Horrorterror corruption. Sburb itself is probably the last word on what qualifies as a Just death, so I think that's what she'd get tagged as, if she died as a God Tier in the Green Sun's explosion.

I'm also not sure if getting tagged as Heroic would cancel out a Just tag. They're not necessarily opposites - Vriska, for example, is designed to have a controversial alignment, and could easily die in a way that counts as both.

@ben-guy asked: Small correction, you referred to the Alternian empire as "intergalactic" when it only exists within one galaxy as far as I'm aware. Yes, kind of a silly nitpick, and one that I could be wrong about, but I happen to enjoy thinking about the comparative scale of space faring societies lol. If there is a quote contradicting that, I'd like to see it! Pretty sure it's merely a galactic empire tho :)

Nah, that's fair - that's the kind of nitpick I'd point out, too.

Galaxy, singular. I think I parsed the Empire as intergalactic because massively faster-than-light travel is clearly possible in this setting, via time manipulation. We don't actually know if Alternia had access to time manipulation before Sgrub - but Earth seemingly did, so who knows?

@abacusdictator asked: Found your liveblog a few days ago and furiously binged it. Happy to find another Homestuck liveblog! Especially one I can see happen in-progress! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Thanks - and you're certainly coming in at an interesting time!

Anonymous asked: Scratch "chooses not to lie," but he also has the privileged position of knowing in advance that Rose will misunderstand what the Scratch is, leading to her doing what he wants. If he knew that not lying wouldn't get him what he wants, or even if he didn't know for certain that it would, would he lie? If so, that basically means it's pointless to try to figure out his true meanings, because if you succeed, he'll have retroactively lied about it anyway.

Yeah, this is pretty much my take.

Does it really matter if he 'doesn't lie' if he can foresee all the truths that will mislead you? When you're playing at his level, the actual truth of your statements barely matters.

@skelekingfeddy asked: to my knowledge this has never been commented on by hussie, but i feel like doc scratch doesnt lie in part because he was made from the cueball. its a fortune telling device that predicts the future with remarkable precision and accuracy. you wouldnt expect it to lie, would you? its just that the difference between scratch and the cueball is that he can pick and choose WHICH truths to reveal at which moments. (his penchant for jokes thus probably comes from cal (‘haa haa hee hee hoo hoo’) i feel like him never lying is also a way to feed his own ego. its a self-imposed(!!!!) restriction, and yet despite it he effortlessly plays everyone like fiddles. and he KNOWS it. he CHOOSES never to lie. he VOLUNTARILY hands the people he manipulates an advantage on a goddamn silver platter, and he STILL wins. ‘Isn't it funny how during our various matches, I can tell you what my moves will be in advance, and still win?’ hes so fucking smug. what a pompous dipshit. i love him Anonymous asked: I think that when Scratch say he don't lie, he mean it, and not because of some vilainous valor but out of sheer ego. Scratch is prideful, he love beating other by "playing with cards face up" and tricking them with exact word, he doesn't tell the truth because it's "honorable", he tell the truth because he doesn't need to lie to win.

Also, this. He's just a smug fuck.

Do we know for sure if the cueball is always truthful, actually? Scratch heavily implies it here, but he's only stating it as a hypothetical.

Anonymous asked: Scratch is like a fae, he doesn't lie but you better watch out how he word what he say.

I'd be so screwed against the fae. Not because I couldn't parse their statements, but because I'm only halfway competent with human social customs, let alone weird alien ones.

@manorinthewoods asked: Honestly, I think it's great for his character if Scratch is actually completely dead of emotion inside, possibly even thoughts, and is just near-mindlessly carrying out the necessary parts of his role in the story so that his desired outcome is achieved. He's omniscient, he doesn't need to think. On the other hand, he does seem to have experienced genuine emotion, on occasions… ~LOSS (24/7/24)

A pseudo-omniscient character, mindlessly following the optimal path to their ultimate goal? This smells suspiciously like a Certified Contessa Moment...

Anonymous asked: In the trolls game all the trolls got to see and speak to their lusi after they died because they put them in the sprites. Meaning Gamzees dad coming back wouldn’t get him sober. Ideally Gamzee would be able to interact with his dad way more then he ever had in the past because his dad now had to guid him as his sprite.

Fair point. Although, we know that prototyping tends to affect your personality, and shifts your priorities towards guiding your Player through the game.

Goatsprite's sprite knowledge might have informed him that Gamzee needed to be on Sopor Slime, or game would become unwinnable.

@heliotropopause asked: "Well, no! That’s the problem! The cueball’s omniscience is completely redundant, because the MEOW code already contains an omniscience gene! According to the Scratch loredump, any ‘intelligent’ host for the MEOW code will be granted near-omniscience. Scratch didn’t need the cueball," I think it's worth considering the what exactly he meant with that- it seems perfectly plausible that the teleportation-based powerset established for bequerel would make an intelligent agent very good at observation, either by physically hopping around, or by teleporting light around to see distant places, or by sending out telekinetic "feelers"; we know bec has the capability to separately manipulate individual objects in physical contact from afar. None of this would give him knowledge of the future, or of physically disjoint spaces like the human session, so the cueball is not at all redundant.

It's possible. See, this is another situation where we're really being hampered by our small sample size. We've only seen two First Guardians, and only one of them has been a 'standard' First Guardian, unaltered by HONK. As such, we don't really know how First Guardian clairvoyance is supposed to function.

Another Guardian with human-level intelligence is desperately needed, for science. It's almost enough to make me want the Scratched Guardian of Earth to be made from a human...

@manorinthewoods asked: As an alternative explanation for the double-omniscience problem, one could say that the cueball, in being used to create Scratch, retroactively and conceptually gained his omniscience - so effectively, any use of a cueball allows you to attune to Scratch's awareness (as long as he's alive, perhaps?). This would subsequently imply that First Guardians are all linked to their components - for instance, there would be some link between Bec and all dogs, or specifically Halley. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

As this ask points out, I might just be drawing the causal arrows in the wrong direction. If the cueball is omniscient because of Scratch, rather than the other way round, then there's really only one root cause for his clairvoyance.

I'm not sure why it would work like that, but I do like the idea of Colonel Sassacre running around the early 1900s with a suspiciously powerful dog.

@manorinthewoods asked: The link between 'Skaia's final gate of defense' and 'first to find Alternia' is something I just didn't notice (because I didn't really pay attention to the words and botched my experience by not watching the Flashes), but it would imply, to me, that the gates run in reverse order, Skaia to World - first meteor in, last meteor out. This would mean that the moon which dropped on Jade was the last meteor to hit […]Skaia. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

Hey, good catch!

Jade's meteor was the last to arrive on Earth. By this logic, wouldn't it have been the first thing to leave the session, rather than the last?

That makes a sort of sense, actually. A meteor this enormous would dwarf the entire Incipisphere, so the game would probably want it out of the picture as soon as possible.

@manorinthewoods asked: You seem to have run with the interpretation that all First Guardians run on the same fundamental genetic code, identical to MEOW but using different letters. Not really how I thought of it - I interpret that every FG's code is different, although I also didn't think too hard about the FGs. No reason that they'd necessarily all have to have the same genetic code - after all, Bec's a dog and Scratch's a Scratch. You'd only really need a single gene to code for Green Sun powers… ~LOSS (23/7/24)

It does say they share a genetic sequence, rather than an entire genome. Becquerel presumably contains some dog DNA - the 'host' - which is absent in Scratch, so their genome can't be identical.

Unlike Becquerel, Scratch's hosts were entirely synthetic. They didn't have DNA - which, to me, implies that his entire genome is just an amalgamation of the BR8K H34DS T1CK T0CK HONK sequences. His DNA is just the First Guardian sequence, plus whatever is in HONK.

...what the hell is in HONK, then? If it's DNA, it has to come from some living thing, and I have a horrible feeling that Gamzee spliced his own DNA into the sequence. Why else would he call it HONK?

@skelekingfeddy asked: ‘…the fucking bow-tie! He’s wearing Cal’s Alternian clothes! The proof’s been staring us in the face this entire time, and we were none the wiser!’ look at what regular cal is wearing underneath his blue ‘CAL’ shirt :)

My guy's been pulling the long con.

@morganwick asked: "#but now that i have an antimatter pellet I can feed it to my bees. they can create nuclear waste honey without all the fission rigmarole" Minecraft, Sollux style. (Or maybe Minecraft, Problem Sleuth style?)

Sollux would be a Productive Bees specialist, wouldn't he? That, alongside every computer mod in existence.

@elkian asked: Sorry if I'm the 80th person to mention this but Vriska's 8r8k could also refer to the act of shooting the cue ball at the group of pool balls at the start of a game, known as a "break". @ben-guy asked: Fun fact: In pool terms, the "8r8k" actually refers to the opening shot that sends all the balls flying everywhere. Additional fun fact: The game of pool has a history of being used as a metaphor for causality, which lends some interesting metaphorical weight to Doc Scratch as a cue ball.

Oh, that's true - pool balls are often used as an analogy when talking about causality. Surprising that that's never occurred to me before.

I like to think that when the Felt storm a rival gang's lair as a group, they call their maneuver The Break.

@manorinthewoods asked: Oh my god, Aradia uses Jack to go to the Green Sun. That's such a cool detail. It's so fast, I didn't even see it. To be fair, although the timing is ridiculously impressive, Aradia is both a god and specifically a god of time. Although it's never stated, perfect timing is an obvious power for Time God Tiers to have, which does mean that Aradia would be a half-Flechette. ~LOSS (18/7/24)

And Kanaya's a fashion designer, too. Aradia x Kanaya when?

Anonymous asked: Hey, unfortunately the reqs list link seems to be janked out on my mobile client so I hope this is ok but if you haven't already heard of it I highly highly reccomend Jon Bois' 17776: What Football Will Look Like In the Future It's about football in the same sort of way that homestuck is about video games

Love that story - and I still have to read the sequel, actually!

Anonymous asked: Forwarding another question from the person without a Tumblr account: ~DJ. [I think the change in Equis and Nepeta's behavior is explained by "being together and solving problems together for a long time was great for Equius' and Nepeta's relationship" and "the destruction of Alternia helped Equius realize some facets of Alternian culture he believed where false" (because unlike Eridan he is able to change his mind about stuff like this). - RM]

I really want to see what Equius and Nepeta got up to for a month, as well as all the other trolls. It'd be great to get an 'untold stories of Homestuck' anthology at some point - and hopefully, that's something we'll see in some of Homestuck's tie-in media.

Anonymous asked: I’ve been thinking about Bec prototyping himself and I think I’ve got an answer that works for me - not necessarily the whole answer or the only answer, but I think it’s got something. Basically, Bec knows he can’t / shouldn’t get rid of the meteor entirely (he came down in a meteor that built the frog ruins, so even if we’re just going off what he’s experienced we can say that he probably on some level understands that these meteors landing is important) but he also understands he doesn’t have the type of power or the finesse with that power to only delay it until Jade can take the shot. After all, he could’ve just teleported the living room junk to a different part of the house, but he sent it into deep space because his doggy brain can only deal in absolutes when it comes to perceived danger to his best friend, and the only power we’ve seen First Guardians use (to my recollection) that would in any way help with slowing the meteor is teleportation. He can’t reliably teleport it back only far enough that it will keep falling, but won’t yet land, and he doesn’t have anything else at his disposal - except becoming a sprite, who we’ve seen use beam attacks, which allows Bec to push the meteor back as a delaying measure. Don’t know if he knew it would help so specifically, but even so, I can see Bec understanding it as the only option he has that isn’t either ‘send thing as far away as possible’ or ‘let thing squish most beloved person’. I do think the weakest parts of this theory are What Bec Understands, but puzzling through that devilbeast’s thoughts is hardly a new impossibility. If nothing else, we can all understand that he did this to save Jade, because he loves her, and we love him for that. -Megido (am a new anon, just spent the past couple days catching up and have enjoyed this liveblog immensely)

I think this theory is a good one, and Hussie's comments support it.

The meteor needed to be destroyed in a very specific way for the timeline to retain its integrity, and Bec should instinctively know that, born from Sburb as he is.

Anonymous asked: There are three lenses I think you can view troll romance through: the Xenopsychology lens, the Propaganda lens, and the Parody lens. The Xenopsychology lens is that trolls do in fact experience alien emotions which cannot be felt by humans. It's not just that troll society chooses to categorize the same types of feelings and relationships that humans have differently; these are genuinely unique and original emotions, like a new color that a human couldn't imagine. Describing kismesissitude as hatemance or rivalry or abuse, or moirallegiance as bromance or besties or queer platonic partnership, or auspisticism as third wheeling or mom friending or refereeing are all fundamentally incorrect, because there is no human analogue. You can take this a step further and say that matespritship is also fundamentally different from human romance, even if it appears similar. Therefore all attempts to analyze or write troll romance should be forays into xenofiction, attempting to understand things within a nonhuman framework. The Propaganda lens is that actually troll emotions aren't really any different than human ones, but the quadrant system benefits the hemocasteist militaristic empire by keeping trolls divided enough to become either fucked up killers or submissive victims by the time they reach maturity, but have the minimum support structure needed to actually reach maturity. Kismesissitude is fundamentally unhealthy, auspisticism serves as a counterbalance to keep everyone from killing each other, and moirallegiance serves to prevent trolls from having multiple close friendships or from being fully open with their matesprit by arbitrarily sequestering who it’s appropriate to have certain positive interactions with. None of this is really romance except the one that’s analogous to human romance, but trolls are raised to buy into the system under threat of death. It’s hard to form community and contemplate uprising if everyone confines the meaningful relationships in their life to like 4-5 other people, half of which are based on negative interactions. Also it’s a commentary on how human rules about love and relationships and where the platonic ends and romantic or sexual starts are socially enforced rather than wholly natural and can be arbitrary and unhealthy. Anonymous asked: The Parody lens is that this is all Hussie making fun of fandom shipping tropes. All sufficiently devoted rivalries are actually romantic love. All sufficiently strong friendships are actually romantic love. These two are so hopelessly oblivious to the fact that they actually want to get with the guy they hate, or that the other person they think just wants to be friends actually feels the same way, they need a third party to push them together. (Okay this one doesn’t work because auspisticism seems to basically be the opposite of that? Maybe auspisticism is supposed to be like, contrived elimination of competing romantic options to assure an OTP. Idk if anyone really knows what auspisticism is supposed to be, least of all Hussie.) Also because this was early 2010’s Hussie, there’s maybe a certain level on which trolls being societally obliged to polyamory and bisexuality is also making fun of shippers, although if it was I think Hussie turned around pretty quickly to actually being cool about it. Much like how light is a wave, and a particle, and a ray, all of these are true at different times. This is because the nature of Hussie's writing is that even when things are serious business, they are also jokes. And this is also why the Homestuck fandom will never agree on the correct way to understand and depict the quadrants.

Great breakdown. As you could probably predict, I lean a lot more towards the Propaganda lens, with a healthy dose of Parody mixed in.

The Xenopsychology lens isn't necessarily untrue - it's just that, as I've discussed before, the trolls read as extremely human to me. I honestly believe that if you raised a human on Alternia, they'd probably be compelled to form the same quadrants as everyone else.

I once got an ask stating that, according to Hussie, each of the quadrants are meant to be exaggerated versions of human relationship dynamics. I'd really like to check out that full quote, so if anyone's got a link, send it my way!

[astarions-wife]

I can’t believe it’s come to the point of analyzing Cazador for all of you, but considering the amount of “Cazador can be redeemed!” And “Cazador x reader” I’ve seen, I feel like i need to make this.

So you feel pity for Cazador because he also suffered at the hands of his master. Good. That’s the point. You should feel something for Cazador, he also suffered abuse, and was dragged into the cycle of it by Vellioth. It’s awful, it’s terrible, but it doesn’t mean he’s redeemable.

Very much so, when Cazador kills Vellioth and chooses to start the cycle of power and abuse over again, he was too far gone. He made the choice, the conscious choice to be the same as his old master. Of course he’s suffering internally, somewhere is the soul of someone who lost everything, and became something awful. However he doesn’t even say he wishes for a reset. He wishes for death. Only in death is he free of the cycle of abuse, for his role in it is too far gone at this point.

“Orin and Gortash have apologists!” They do, but they’re also under different circumstances. It’s also justifiable to absolutely hate Orin and Gortash (believe me, even as someone who believes Gortash could’ve been better, I killed him in my initial run). Specifically as the Dark Urge, you can tell Orin that she’s being used just as Kethric and Gortash were. She’ll even break down as if she’s realizing that all this death she’s done in the name of her father/for her God, has been her being taken advantage of. Though she never gets a chance to be better, because she’s forcibly transformed in this ending, it’s just a sneak peak of what could have been. She was being used, and while it doesn’t erase or justify ANYTHING she did (and you’re well within your right, and should hold her accountable), it at least gives the player insight on to what could have been.

Likewise with Gortash, a victim of abuse at the hands of Raphael, with canonical lines on how he was beaten in the House of Hope as a little boy. His own parents sold him out, and he ended up being so desperate to be bigger, to have more power, that he also let himself be used, and in turn lost everything he worked hard for (and sold out Karlach, which is absolutely unforgivable of course). However he wasn’t too far gone. You can see his loyalty to you depending what options you pick, and although death is his inevitable end, it still shows that there was still a person inside.

There wasn’t a person in Cazador anymore. He was trapped behind the wall of abuse that he continued, and refused to even acknowledge it, or try and see reason. Perhaps it wasn’t possible for him, but ultimately his actions brought him here. Those that say Ascension for Astarion would free him of those chains, are simply wrong. Why does Astarion deserve to live, anymore than his siblings? Or the seven thousand people who were turned against their will? Of course Astarion is more, controlled in his hunger—but so are his siblings. Even speaking to them after the fight they’ll all vow and attest that they can control themselves, and they’ll even help the others if brought to it.

Ascended Astarion picks up the abuse cycle, killing thousands of people with just his first command. Ascended Astarion no longer speaks to you, but instead at you. You’re his “favorite” spawn, but then again Cazador had favorites didn’t he? And all of them suffered just as badly as the rest. Ascended Astarion even mentions “covering the world in darkness for his spawn”, which shows him continuing the abusive cycle that got Cazador in the first place.

Cazador dying, and spawn Astarion choosing to break the cycle is the significant ending. The best ending for Cazador, the only one for him, is to let him die. He’s a horrible, cruel, bitter man, and any sense of his humanity died long ago. Only in his dreams is there anything left, and he’s too cut off to even reach them anymore.

We also know that the Szarr’s had family. There are relatives to Cazador (see his niece), and clearly it wouldn’t have been wrong of him as a vampire to have a family if he so chose. But he didn’t seek out a partner, like some of his other (vampire) relatives did. He chose to only live by his spawn, whom he considered his children, showing that he truly didn’t see a need for a partner. Themes of family are a vital part of his story, but the element of a romantic partner never has been.

TLDR—Some villains in this game are understood, and potentially redeemable if given the option. Cazador is not one of them.

[littlejuicebox]

Midwinter Carol 8 / The Scheme

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.4K

Story navigation: [1][2][3][4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot “A Midwinter Carol.” / Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur’s Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of “A Midwinter Carol,” Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover or will he ultimately fall victim to himself?

Preview:

“You’re far too comfortable within our arrangement, darling. Now, simply stand there and look pretty. It’s what you’re best at,” Astarion had finally drawled after a long silence between the two of them, feigning nonchalance at her comment while the white-knuckled grip on his goblet told another story.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore / Violence / PTSD / Astarion’s past trauma

A/N: Took two weeks, but we finally got there! I am going to try to start posting my longfics on a more consistent schedule. Stay tuned for the schedule, once I've figured it out lol!

-----

Delilah loathed people in power. She hated the moneyed patrons looking down their noses at her, always with an air of disgust. The wealthy acted as if they were doing her a favor; as if they weren’t the ones begging for her skills.

The elite she entertained in the brothels might have different kinks, different preferences, and different fantasies that she danced around… but one rule applied to every entitled, powerful individual that purchased her time: they loved to hear themselves talk.

It was quite comical how much her clients would share when they perceived her as an idiot. They often thought her beneath them; nothing more than a glorified decoration, a plaything. An empty vessel to spill their seed into. 

But Delilah was far more cunning than she looked. She wouldn’t have been a whore, if only her circumstances had been different. Her aspirations had always been higher than sex work, and despite loathing people in power, she knew one of them would eventually be her meal ticket out of her situation. 

She was too smart to be a whore and yet too desperate to shy away from any opportunity that came knocking upon her brothel door. 

So when Astarion first spoke to her in Elvish, insulting her in the process, Delilah knew to stay silent. From almost the beginning, she intended to play the long game with the vampire and figured it best to appear ignorant. 

She assumed his goading to be a test. She felt the silver-haired elf wanted to know if she understood his native tongue, though she didn’t quite understand why at the time. So instead of giving any indication she knew Astarion had just called her a filthy whore, Delilah simply smiled and purred a superficial compliment; it was something about how sexy he sounded speaking Elvish.

He bought it. 

After that initial test from Astarion, he would often speak in Elvish when she morphed into Eirianwen’s shape. Most strings of his mother tongue were simply sweet nothings and lamentations he clearly would have preferred to say to the real woman, not the one he paid to portray her. It was tedious to endure the Ascendant as he relentlessly plunged in and out of her body, speaking sappy nonsense as she performed exactly the way he expected her to.

He always took forever to finish.

The ordeal was ridiculous, really. But her suffering proved worthwhile, for a time. It bought her connections to other elites, a new apartment, and — perhaps most valuable of all — pieces of information. 

Over the years, Delilah collected many useful bits  of knowledge from Astarion. The bastard loved to hear himself talk, in and out of bed, just like all the others. She sold some of the lesser information to his enemies and kept the most significant pieces stored within her mind. 

Delilah knew he held the secret to true power – it was etched upon his back — and she wanted it for herself. She spent years assembling pieces of the puzzle and carefully unlocking the vaults of his psyche for that one purpose. It was no easy task. 

But those years passed, and Delilah grew more impatient with the passing of each season. Astarion was dramatic, self-obsessed, privileged, and almost always held an air of missing that stupid sorceress. Constantly soothing his ego became a full time job, and Delilah began to think she loathed him more than she loved his money and connections to power.

Eventually, she thought she would simply convince Astarion to make her a true vampire, cut her losses, and just take those powers as a consolation prize. Her time enduring the Vampire Lord had been more than enough, and she was ready for it to end. She felt she understood why the real Eirianwen left him; if she’d had the means, Delilah would have been gone long ago, too.

But not everyone is a trust fund baby. 

So, one evening, at another party almost identical in theme and guest list to the soirée they’d attended the week prior, Delilah broached the subject of immortality with Astarion. Her frustration quickly rose to the forefront when the Vampire Lord denied her far too quickly, as if he’d considered the option long ago and decided against it. 

“Why not?” she’d pressed, her arm wrapped around his, simply playing the all-too-familiar part of a decoration at his side as they walked about the great hall of some noble’s mansion.

But, even as she asked, Delilah knew the reason: she was a glorified shell in his eyes; nothing more than a novelty item. She was hardly permitted to be in her own chosen form for these parties, or in general, after all. Astarion never wanted to see her as her. He always made her rotate her appearance as his date, instead. She was never supposed to be Eirianwen in public, of course, because imagine the scandal; but she was always some beautiful being. 

Just not herself. 

Among the many strange aspects of the egotistical man she’d tied herself to for years, Delilah found it odd that Astarion seemed to prefer the appearance of rakishness without actually being a rake. Though she suspected he liked the idea of appearing unattached, should the real Eirianwen ever flit back into his life. Idiot.

“I am not currently paying you to speak, Delilah,” Astarion had warned in a low hiss, his jaw tensed as he’d refused to look at the woman holding onto his arm. 

She was in the form of some gorgeous, pouty-lipped, large chested brunette she’d seen while working in Waterdeep years ago. Astarion always seemed to prefer silver-haired dates, so Delilah intentionally gave him anything else when she was particularly irritated with the bastard.

“It’s been half a decade… she isn’t coming back, you know,” Delilah had snapped in response, unable to hold back her frustration after tempering herself for ages. 

Five years had been far too long. 

She’d been attached to this vile man longer than his precious sorceress ever had been and still played second fiddle to a memory. The thought made her insides boil with rage.

Not that she loved Astarion. Absolutely not. But she felt he still owed her something after all this time. Because truly, he was dreadful, and he would have done nothing of note with all that money and power if she hadn’t pushed him in the right direction. Hells, he couldn’t even sleep properly when they first met, let alone play political dragonchess with dignitaries and crime bosses. 

No, the majority of that had been her doing. But of course, in his pride, the Vampire Lord was certain it had been him all along. 

“You’re far too comfortable within our arrangement, darling. Now, simply stand there and look pretty. It’s what you’re best at,” Astarion had finally drawled after a long silence between the two of them, feigning nonchalance at her comment while the white-knuckled grip on his goblet told another story. 

But the shapeshifter knew her value was severely underestimated. She was more than a common whore, more than an attractive escort, more than just a shell of someone else’s form. And after years of catering to Astarion’s massive ego, one would think her other talents would be of value to the Ascendant – at least enough to consider turning her.

Apparently not.

Ultimately, Astarion kept refusing Delilah’s requests for immortality. Eventually, the shapeshifter decided she’d had enough; she would have to find another route to power. 

She’d wasted too much time already.

*

When Delilah first planned to break into the Palace, she knew entering through the dungeon would be most convenient. Waltzing in right through the front door, while potentially possible in Astarion’s form, would attract far too much attention. The servants swarmed him the moment he entered any room. Plus, she suspected her target happened to be in the bowels of the Palace, away from prying eyes – the dungeon would be faster, too.

It would be a quick job – get in, get out, get back to her new boss, get turned. 

She knew the secret entryway into the dungeon was enchanted and required a password spoken in Astarion’s voice. At first, this had been a significant dilemma. Delilah’s shape shifting was flawless, and yet she always failed to adequately reproduce voices. However, thanks to his unwilling donation of DNA at the auction, the woman successfully brewed a potion that perfectly captured Astarion’s haughty tenor. 

One utterance of “aeterna amantes” later and she found herself in the frigid cobblestone dungeon underneath her ex-lover’s abode. 

She could not help but feel pride for her multiple talents at this moment. If Delilah had been able to afford tuition at Blackstaff thirty years ago, her life would be inconceivably different. Self-study and natural talents could only get her so far, unfortunately. 

Locating the Jathiman Dagger – or “The God Killer,” as it had been called in the texts she read on the subject – had been effortless in comparison to her first trial. The ancient blade was rippling with arcane magic, and Delilah simply reached out to the Weave for guidance. Like a compass, the Weave led her straight to the second hidden passageway in the dungeon, this one much less guarded than the first. And there, behind an illusory wall, was the ticket to her future in the form of a well-worn, rusted dagger.

In truth, the woman thought the weapon that could kill anything from a god to a devil – and certainly a mere Vampire Ascendant, by that logic – would be far grander in appearance than just a simple serrated blade with a leather-wrapped hilt. At first, Delilah worried it was a decoy. But the arcane thrum when she touched the weapon was undeniable; all that was left on her end of the deal was to get back to Lady Lysandra and deliver the dagger. She could leave Edmund to rot if she wanted, Lysandra had indicated him to be disposable in their scheming. 

But standing on the precipice of her future, and try as she might, Delilah couldn’t bring herself to take the final jump and leave the stupid spawn. Not after the time they spent together the past few months. He’d been, over all, a gentleman. And when she finally propositioned him after weeks, he’d never asked her to change into any other form, despite knowing she could… that had been a first for her. 

‘Leave him, leave him, leave him,’ she thought as she made her way toward the secret tunnel leading out of the cobblestoned torture chamber.

And yet, against her better judgment and with half of her mind screaming in disbelief, Delilah stopped just before reaching freedom, tucked the dagger into her robes and began to climb the cobblestone steps of the dungeon. She willingly walked straight into the lion’s den.

*

Finding Astarion and Edmund had been simple; she only had to follow the pained grunts of the vampire spawn and the deranged shouting of her ex-lover. But as she walked in that direction, under cover of a simple invisibility spell, Delilah passed the master bedchambers where she’d laid under Astarion more times than she could count. Out of habit, she glanced into the room and spotted Eirianwen sound asleep, instead of writhing in pain like she should be with Delilah’s poisons working inside her body.

And gods that enraged Delilah. She wanted Astarion to suffer in the worst way, to watch the only person he ever seemed to love be tortured beyond belief, lose motor function, and eventually die after a long, chronic battle with the side effects of Delilah’s concoction. 

He deserved it, and by extension, Eirianwen did, too. She made him what he was, after all. 

But how was this possible? 

The knowledge-seeker in the shapeshifting woman decided to take a quick detour, temporarily ignoring the tortured cries from Edmund in the next room. He was strong, surely he could endure for a mere moment longer as she examined the sorceress, she thought.

After a quick study of Eirianwen, Delilah notices the ring on the sorceress’s blackening hand and realizes it's the flimsy golden band that’s protecting the woman. She remembers the auctioneer toting the magical abilities of the rings Astarion ultimately paid far too much for. 

But Delilah doesn’t dare touch Eirianwen to try and remove the ring. The newest potion coursing through the elven woman’s system had been a rush job; Delilah was not certain how potent the paralytic was or if it would transfer to her, another living being, via touch. It’s why she’d had Edmund carry the bottle around at the party, just in case there had been a mishap; her necrotic concoctions were much less potent on the undead, but on the living they were always particularly nasty. 

A flurry of curses on the other side of the wall, followed by more vitriol from the Vampire Lord, all coming from the space next door she knows to be Astarion’s office, finally rips Delilah from her thoughts and pushes her forward. She doesn’t have a plan. She really did not expect herself to risk her neck for this random spawn. 

Delilah morphs into Eirianwen’s form, mangled hand and all, and slowly edges her way toward the office. At minimum, she can distract Astarion and hopefully Edmund can break away with a bit of her assistance. He’s certainly strong.

When Delilah turns around the corner, she quickly realizes, much to her dismay, that any hopes of saving Edmund are gone. Astarion is crushing the other vampire’s skull in with one hand and plunging something into the man’s chest repeatedly with the other. Splatters of blood are sprinkled about the office like stars in the night sky. The man she’d spent months scheming with, fucking, and for whom she’d idly considered killing his master for once she achieved her goal is lying limp and mangled underneath the Ascendant. 

Edmund is gone. And the realization elicits a genuine, horrified scream from Delilah. In that moment she realizes that perhaps she actually cared for him… as much as someone like her could care about anyone. When Astarion’s eyes snap to her, Delilah forgets she’s in Eirianwen’s form and runs.

Before long, the woman recollects herself as the silver-haired elf shouts down the hallway, calling after his precious Ani. She turns to look at the Vampire Lord, her face filled with hatred, and misty steps as far as she can away from him, back toward the dungeon entrance on the lower floor. Delilah was supposed to leave the murder of Astarion Ancunin to Lady Lysandra… but she just decided that she changed her mind. 

She was going to kill Astarion in his own home, and she was going to savor every delicious moment as he watched the woman he loved stab him to death. 

-----

A/N: Special shoutout to a reader, @lil23akira for absolutely calling this! I love that you were able to pick up on all my foreshadowing. And thank you to @leomonae and @tallymonster for reading this and providing feedback as I worked through what was the most difficult chapter to write thus far.

[thesunfyre4446]

The lord who support aegon didn't do so because they hate woman, but because they see them as inferior to man. The green's propaganda was based only on misogyny (same the lord who support aegon) , and that funny cause they rely on the same system who basically destroy alicent and haelena's life. I really do not understand female who are team green, they basically based everything on the subjugation of women and their inability to govern and they rely on a system that sees them only as churning out children. Aemond said "rhaenyra may call herself queen but she has women's part", aegon's men cut off Rhaenyra's breasts to awaken Sunfyre, lord borros otto Jasper and many others spend their life claiming a son came before an older daughter (and for what reasons?), lord pike (im not sure of his name but he is one of aegon' supporter who survive the dance) was describe as "a men who fought to prevent the accession of a woman to the throne". It doesn't matter that rhaenyra have bastards cause people were plotting her usurpation wayyy before her marriage (it wouldn't matter if she were jaehaerys himself born again, rhaenyra is a woman. Otto's word on ep. 3. He admit that rhaenyra may have been the perfect princess and thos still wouldn't prevent her from usurpation). Do you really feel represented by them? Rhaenyra may not be a femminist but it's undeniable that her ascension to the throne would have been a great step forward for women and that she had all the cards in order to become a good queen. It is sufficient to see her positions the council in ep 6, how she always manages to remain calm in front of horrible circumstances (such as the driftmark petition or the black council), how she rule peaceably dragonstone for years. Obviously the war, the usurpation and the death of all her children made her lose her head (as is normal). But if that hadn’t happened she would have been a good queen, definitely better than alicent, Aegon or anyone else. And please do not say that this was the vision of the time because things can change, our society is not equal to the medieval

ohhhh i love this ask so much

ok so first of all, different lords supported the greens for different reasons. misogyny was def one of them!! @green-aeggs-and-spam made a really great post about this :

so now let's talk about the greens themselves :

otto : while i do believe that otto is a misogynist , his main reason for wanting aegon on the throne is to be the grandfather of the king = personal interests. like if he was aemma's father you know he'd be selling "equal rights for women" T-shirts lol

alicent : wants aegon on the throne because if rhaenyra will ascend the throne her children will die. the patriarchy might have ruined her life, but she also has something to gain from it - the system supports aegon as king and keeps her children safe. so as much as she hates & was hurt by the westerosi patriarchal system her family's survival is dependent upon upholding it. same with helaena , her own children will also be in danger if rhaenyra ever became queen. (i've made a post about why rhaenyra would have to kill alicent's sons when she ascends the throne : https://www.tumblr.com/thesunfyre4446/739501560667734016/ok-so-ive-been-getting-a-lot-of-rhaenyra-would?source=share)

criston : pre ep 4, he was very much team rhaenyra. he didn't seem to have a problem with her inheriting over aegon, he's dornish, so that might seem very normal to him. criston supports the greens because of his hatred towards rhaenyra & love towards alicent = he's a man driven entirely (some may say a little too much haha) by his feelings.

so of course the greens are going to try and uphold the patriarchy, because - while it also ruined alicent's life - they have everything to gain from that system being kept. their lives are dependent on it & their political power.

no, i don't feel represented by alicent. i don't need to feel represented by a character in order to love & support them. of course that I believes in equal rights & am a feminist. but i don't need the fictional characters i like to represent my values. westeros is not a real place, alicent & rhaenyra are not real people. i don't need to pick the the team who'd be better for the realm - [ though i don't think that the blacks would be better to the realm then the greens]. - i'm going to root for the characters that i find interesting & love.

my main reason for disliking rhaenyra is that i find her character boring and lacks interesting inner conflict. also, as you've said, rhaenyra is not a feminist. rhaenyra is team rhaenyra, and that's fine! she wants the throne for her own personal reasons, and when she's queen she doesn't do anything to help other women - she even refuses other firstborn daughter to be named heirs because it would destabilize the realm = rhaenyra has no intention to "break the wheel". she's not dany. so would her reign have been a step forward to all women? i honestly don't know, because a woman sitting on the throne does challenge the patriarchy, but rhaenyra herself has shown no interest in helping & advancing other women. (not to mention lowborn women).

another great post by @blackcat419.

[entamewitchlulu]

there's a post that will eventually spit out of my queue about homumado and the subversion of Homura rejecting salvation to impose her own reality on Madoka that kind of captures what i'm about to say, but at the end of the day i'm feral about it because it's all about agency and trauma and the reclamation of power at the expense of others through the viewpoint of wanting to save someone.

I think it's like. The first 12 episodes of Madoka got us feeling like the whole point was Hope and sacrifice and fighting for what's right. and it kind of was. But with the next three movies it reframes everything, and with the trailer we just got I think it just confirms that. Madomagi isn't about hope, it's about power and agency.

Throughout the whole 12 episodes of the original series, Madoka has very little agency. She is tugged around by circumstances, watching helplessly as everyone and everything else falls apart around her. Homura, too, is without agency. She is trapped in an unending cycle where she is ultimately always helpless. It's the feeling of helplessness/hopelessness that drives magical girls to become witches.

Which, makes sense for the whole Themes. Kyubey is offering young girls, adolescents, a time of life where you feel sort of stuck and helpless in a world you're just understanding to be bigger than you thought, an illusion of agency. Make a wish, become a superhero, take charge of your own destiny. Make something happen with your own two hands. Have a measurable effect on the world.

But then wishes always go sour, and the fighting becomes endless and hopelessness sets in and you realize you were never in control at all. You were given an illusion of controlling your own life but in the end you were a puppet of fate and this ending was inevitable. You were always doomed to be powerless. Despair comes from the realization that nothing you do really matters and you have no true effect on the world except to continue its same sad cycle.

Madoka's wish and subsequent ascension is a total reclamation of agency and power. She takes the tools of the oppressor and reframes them to become eternity, to finally take control and become something greater that truly makes a difference in the universe. After watching everyone fall apart helplessly, she matures into the power to do something about it.

Then there's Homura. In the end, her struggle still felt meaningless to her. Madoka was able to ascend and change the world because of Homura, yes, but Homura's wish, her desire for control, was for Madoka to be alive, happy, and human. And that choice was taken away from her by way of Madoka's choice, leaving her to continue her painful slog through reality without the one person she cared about on yet another meaningless, eternal battlefield. She was helpless to stop Madoka from disappearing in the end, and she feels as though her choices are ultimately meaningless.

So at the end of Rebellion, it is Homura who decides to wrest her own agency. Unlike Madoka, who uses the system itself against itself, Homura comes from the outside and shatters the system. She regains control over a chaotic, impossible situation and becomes the power in charge of it.

But by doing so, she steals Madoka's agency, which Madoka worked so hard to develop and choose for herself. She makes Madoka helpless again.

And that is the crux of the story, and the reason why these two star-crossed lovers, at this point in time, are doomed to never be together - both of them desire agency, but their agency comes at the expense of each other. The only way for them to exert control over their own lives is if they put the other into a gilded cage of sorts - Madoka unintentionally, Homura on purpose. They have fallen into a dichtomy of belief that someone must be Saved and the other must be the Savior, and thus, they struggle, because the only way they can conceive of controlling their own lives in a way that gives them agency is through stripping agency from the other.

I sincerely doubt Walpurgisnacht Rising will be the final Madoka movie because I think they'll drag it out as long as possible, but I think the cycle of stealing agency from each other in order to gain their own sense of self will continue until one or both of them realizes that Saved and Savior are concepts that are inherently restrictive and still a part of the system that initially trapped them (see: Revolutionary Girl Utena). And it's going to be brutal for both of them because I think both of them have these ideas in their head of the other person and aren't truly seeing the other as full human beings who deserve to have the freedom to choose their lives.

They're going to continue to circle each other, struggling for dominance until they can break every part of the cycle of helplessness and see each other as true equals, and that's very toxic yuri of them and it drives me absolutely fucking insane i love these unhinged toxic lesbians ahhhhhHHHHH

[angelasscribbles]

Mortal Ascension Chapter 1: Arrival

Series: Mortal Ascension

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret (Romance Club)

Word Count: 854

Rating: MA

Warnings: None

A/N: Here we go! Fair warning, I am planning to change a lot of things so don't expect everything to line up with canon. There will also be polyamory involved. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this, just let me know. If you missed it, there is a prologue here.

Romance Club fanfiction master list.

All of the things: Master List.

Eden McClain was sucked into a swirling vortex of light, hurtled through dimensions, and deposited out onto hard-packed dirt. She landed unceremoniously on her ass.

Picking herself up, she brushed at the dirt on her pants and gazed around, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

She was standing in a vast barren landscape; the sky was dotted with vortexes like the one she had just come through. They were constantly opening and closing, a new person falling from them onto the ground each time they did.

After all, there were, on average, two deaths every second on Earth.

She knew she was dead, but she couldn’t say how she knew it. She had no memory of her death. Her fingers flew to her temples, where a headache throbbed. What had happened?

She scanned the environment for clues.

Angels and demons walked among the newly dead, touching them on the shoulder and then pointing them in one direction or the other. Eden turned her head to see what they were being pointed to.

To her far left was a vortex, like the ones in the sky, but oriented so you could walk into it. Indeed, there was a line of souls walking toward it, stepping in and disappearing. It was bright, giving off a warm, golden glow.

To her far right was another similarly oriented vortex, but this one was pulsing with dark energy. Black sparks flew from the opening. There was also a line for it, with some people stepping through and others being pushed. She watched as one desperate soul broke free and made a run for it. A futile attempt, as it turned out. A grinning demon grabbed the man using one arm and flung him through with a bellow.

An angel with flowing white robes approached her. His hand reached toward her shoulder, then stopped as his eyes widened. He pointed not toward either vortex, but behind her. She turned to see a small white gazebo. It looked out of place sitting in the middle of the desolate, dry landscape. An oasis in the midst of chaos.

She turned and hurried to the small pavilion, casting a glance back at the human souls being sorted into the portals to heaven and hell.

She knew where she was. Umbra. The place between realms where human souls arrived after their mortal death. Her mother had explained that much to her. But Eden wasn’t strictly human, and her mother hadn’t explained, or perhaps hadn’t known, what would happen to her after her mortal death.

Of course, no one expected her to die so young. She should have had more time.

As she approached the gazebo, a figure materialized in it. Judging from his white hair, robes, and wings, he was an angel, but the scowl on his face was more reminiscent of a demon if you asked her. He glared at her as if he already hated her, though they hadn’t even met.

She gave him a hesitant, hopefully disarming smile as she climbed the gazebo’s steps. “Hi, I’m Eden Mc—”

“I know who you are.” The angel snarled. “Another abomination.”

Her steps faltered. “What?”

“Your parents should be ashamed of breaking all the laws of heaven and hell.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Ignorant too. Wonderful. I see they didn’t bother educating you about your true nature?”

Her chin lifted definitely. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”

“Hm.” He barked a short laugh devoid of any actual humor. “Well, you should be.”

Anger flared through her, enough to forget to be scared of her strange new circumstances. “You should be ashamed of your rudeness! It’s not very angelic. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you have no right to speak to me that way! My mother—”

The soft chuckle that escaped him was genuine this time. “Feisty. Keep that. You’ll need it where you’re going.”

Her chin lifted again as she pushed down her anxiety. She would not let this being know she was frightened. “And where am I going?”

“The Lyceum in Concordia.”

“What is the Lyceum? Where’s Concordia? Who are you and by what right—”

His smile vanished, replaced by his original scowl. “You ask too many questions.”

“I think I have a right to know where I’m going.”

“Fine.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The Lyceum is an institute of learning for beings with demonic or angelic energy. Even mongrels dulled with human blood like you. You’ll be properly educated there.”

He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Who says I’m required to go anywhere with you?”

Malicious amusement slid behind his eyes. “The high council that rules by divine right on behalf of Yatsar, that’s who.”

“But who are you?” she demanded again.

His face twisted into a mask of anger. “Fencio, the archangel in charge of the Lyceum. Now stop being a truculent child! I have better things to do today than deal with the likes of you.”

He lunged for her, grabbing her by the shoulder, and they both misted out of existence.

[bestworstcase]

i generally don’t believe that penny will come back again, but i did realize that if she came back again it would have a sort of parallelism to salem, if she were to become immortal via ascension or some other means. specifically given your reading that the GoL killed salem before dropping her in the pool. thoughts?

if it happens, ambrosius did it

given what was laid out thematically in V9, i don’t think there’s any path for penny to return as penny. she died. anything that takes the choice of what her next life will be away from her is wrong, both light’s afterlife (eternal stasis) and being rebuilt by her friends/family.

but i think it’s quite likely that a) remnant’s afterlife is some form of reincarnation cycle with the pattern having been set by salem’s deaths and resurrections in the divine pools, and b) as discussed in the linked post, what they asked ambrosius to do with penny bent the rules so far that his power was partially freed. (note oddities like him lingering out of the staff after time started moving again and penny’s robot body disintegrating after he made the portals even though it explicitly should not have been destroyed at all because he only assembled it.)

thus, the possibility that penny may be subject to special circumstances based on ambrosius having recreated ascension with his own magic.

the interesting piece for penny is that she was not designed to have agency. the atlesian military built a soldier, a weapon, and gave her a soul because—presumably—ironwood wanted to explore the feasibility of transferring the maiden powers into robotic soldiers as a solution to various Problems. penny was not supposed to be a person and, of course, her personhood was only tolerated to the extent that she followed orders and the entire atlas military pivoted away from defending atlas from salem to forcing penny to submit and obey the instant penny failed to fall in line. it is also made clear in V8 that penny’s friends/family also impinge on her agency in ways that make her really quite unhappy, mainly out of overprotectiveness.

so, if this character has been plugged into a sort of bootleg ascension—what does it look like for her to, as ambrosius put it, “come to the surface” after her death?

human!penny represented what her friends wanted for her, and the whole ordeal is by turns bittersweet and horrific; the death of penny’s robotic body is downright gruesome because it is framed strictly from penny’s point of view, and in the subsequent fight there are multiple beats showing that penny has lost important pieces of herself (floating array, her tactical software). and of course penny has never once expressed feeling an actual problem with being a robot.

at the same time, though, her robotic nature did leave her uniquely vulnerable to certain forms of compulsion (watts’ virus, pietro’s remote control) and intensified the dehumanization she experienced in the atlas military. so i think penny likely had complicated feelings.

in the end, every choice she could have made was systematically stripped away from her until the only thing she had left was who to hold in her final thoughts; weiss, or winter. the pragmatic choice or her best friend.

she chose her friend.

if penny then found herself in a place where the only thing that can happen to her is what she wants, what does she choose? who does she become? penny is dead, but her essence lives on. (there’s a possible rhyme here with “salem lives, but the woman you hold dear in your memories is gone”—the god of light has nothing but disdain and malice for salem, and she has not changed in the way he implies, but it is true that she isn’t the same girl ozma knew millions of years ago.)

the other factor is that fractally, penny is repeating ozma, and both the virus and the remote control are metaphors for his parasitic reincarnation so she is thematically connected to ozma’s immortality in an overt way. so in the event she returns during the run of the show i imagine it would be in some form that answers ozma’s curse, i.e., as a new person without her memories a la ascension and definitely not as a voice in [winter’s/ruby’s] head as is the common set of theories.

but i also tend to think that if it happens it’ll be an epilogue thing—after the war is over—because penny was built to be a soldier in that war and the last choice she made before she died was defiant of that purpose. it makes sense to me that she would return to a time of (genuine) peace.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Mother Mary | The Joys And Fears Of Motherhood | Platonic [Male Reader]

Dialogue prompt: "You did a good job with Him."

When Mary is uncertain whether she has been a good mother to her Son, you reassure her of her worth.

Requested by J Bart

The Mount of Olives is one of Mary’s favourite spots to retreat to nowadays. Although not present herself at the time of her Son’s ascension, she finds solace in standing here, gazing up at the sky with the knowledge that He will return one day, and that she is favoured by God Himself. The burden of being the mother of the Son of God was — and still is, in some way — heavy. Mary never truly understood the true meaning of Jesus’ ministry, the full picture of what had to happen, until the moment was there that He gave the Spirit and the days afterwards. Now that He has returned to heaven to sit at His Father’s right hand, she misses Him like a mother would miss her child under any other circumstance. Son of God or not, He had still been her boy, the One she birthed and raised, and somewhere deep down inside her heart, He would always be that, regardless of divinity.

Jesus had instructed John to take in Mary as if she were his own mother, and the son of Thunder hadn’t hesitated to take on his Master’s command. Whereas John the Beloved had become her son to look after her, she liked spending time with the rest of His followers, too, you included. “Will you walk with me?” she had asked you this morning on the threshold of your home. You hadn’t hesitated to join her on one of her routine walks to the place she liked to visit so much.

You’re carrying a bag containing lunch and water skins, not wanting to encumber Mary with the heavy items as you walk up the mount where Jesus had been taken into heaven. She’s walking next to you with that particular kind smile she usually wears. Even for a woman who suffered so much through the afflictions of her son, knowing she would lose Him one day, she remains strong and positive in the face of hardship. From your mother, you had learnt that parenthood was difficult in and of itself, so you’d reckon that being the mother of the Messiah would be even heavier to digest. 

Everything about this woman is admirable. You’d only be so lucky to have an ounce of her resilience. From what you have learnt over the past years of travelling at Jesus’ side, you know that these words are better to be said out loud to the person in question. Perhaps you’ll find a good moment to tell her.

The two of you veer off the beaten path and find the field where the Disciples had told you Jesus had ascended into heaven. Neither you nor Mary had borne witness to this event, but knowing that this was the place where it had happened brings some solace into your heart. Not that it would ultimately matter, for no place on Earth is as holy as the Son of Man Himself and the last thing you want is for the soil He stood on to become an idol in and of itself, but still you find peace in knowing His promise of return. Be it in a few months, years, perhaps even centuries. Another valuable lesson you have taken away is that God’s definition of ‘soon’ is not only variable, but also very different from what mortal men may consider ‘soon’. 

The sun is at its highest point and shines down on you with a ferocity that has you squint against the bright blue sky. Mary narrows her gaze a bit as she looks up, folding her hands on her back as she deeply inhales. “Thank you for coming with me, son.” she muses. 

“Of course.” you reply, “I like spending time with you. Makes me feel like I still have an eema in some way, even though John is like your son, now.” Mary gives you a gentle look as you mention your late mother. 

“Ah, I’d be happy to fill that role in some way, if only in listening to you.” 

“Just your presence and kind words are enough, really.” you admit. 

“Well, I’m glad to. And in a way, I feel a little like the mother of all of you.” 

Lightly chuckling, you reach into your bag to offer her a drink of water. She accepts it and takes a long swig from the waterskin. Something flashes inside her gaze, her eyes turning to the clouds, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips as she takes another thoughtful sip.

She hands it back to you. 

“You must miss Him a lot.” 

Mary hums. “You have no idea.” There is a certain edge in her voice you’ve rarely heard on her. You put an arm around her, giving her a side-hug, which she reciprocates fondly.

“Some days are easier than others.” Mother Mary remains positive. “And there is no other woman who can say she gave birth to the Son of God.” 

“Changed His nappies, too.” 

Mary laughs at that a bit. “Son of God, yet fully human.” 

“Fully human indeed. I recall the stories you used to tell us around the fire. I’ve never seen Nathanael so horrified.” 

She laughs and rests a hand on her cheek as she sighs, turning her gaze to the sky again, almost as if she is expecting for her Son to come back for a few minutes just for her. “I know that I am greatly blessed.”

“You are. And I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we greatly admire you.”

Mary lets out a high pitched hum and gives you a gentle smile. “Hm. That’s very sweet of you to say, (Y/n). But you’re giving me too much credit. It is Jesus Who deserves all the praise.”

You sigh at her humble nature.

“Don’t be hard on yourself.” 

A brief silence. The soft look falls from her features and makes place for a frown instead as she stares at the grass below for a moment. “Sometimes… I just feel like I could have done better.” Mother Mary confesses, “I know I’m not perfect, no one is except Jesus Himself, but… Well, being His mother has added so much extra weight to my task.”

“I have yet to meet a mother who is perfect.” you say. “I know many mothers. I knew the eema of Peter and Andrew. She wasn’t perfect. And Salome, do you think she’s perfect? No, not even closely. My own eema, may she rest in peace, was full of flaws, too. Did I love her any less because of it? Of course not. Do James and John hold it against their mother that she sometimes runs her mouth? They love her just as much. Peter and Andrew only talk positively about their late eema.” 

Mary listens to your words, her uncertainty melting away. “You did a good job with Him. You brought Him up well. You have taken care of Him through it all, remained patient with Him, taught Him how to traverse life like the rest of us. And in the end — although this is not the end — He is right where He should be. He has done what He had been sent to do in the first place, done the will of the Father.” 

She mulls over your words for a moment, weighing their worth whilst digesting their truth. You were correct; Every choice she has ever made in her life regarding her Son has led to this very reality. And along the way, she has made it easier for Him. Mary remained a source of motherly comfort wherever she could, and maybe, just maybe, the thought of her has helped him reach Him the cross, too. After all, Jesus died and rose not for those who don’t know Him, but also to those closest to Him — even His own mother was in need of salvation after all, as she had sung in her joyous melody upon visiting her late aunt Elizabeth. 

Both of you cast your gazes upwards towards the skies as one being, where you knew Jesus had ascended into heaven to be with the Father, to return at a moment and time no one knew. It could be ten years, a hundred, a thousand. You have learnt during your time with Jesus, the meaning of soon can be different depending on the context as well as on the person in question uttering the term — patient or impatient, human or divine — and keeping that in mind you are well aware that in this lifetime, you might not see Him anymore, but beyond that. And what is this moment, this very life, compared to eternity itself?

Mary lets out a shivering sigh, a solemn edge to the sound. “I miss Him.” 

“I’m sure He misses you, too. Mary, you’ve been the best eema you could have been. You have completed an honourable task and I’m certain you will be elevated about it for ages to come. God sees your heart, knows your thoughts, your struggles. And He knows you did well. You did all you could, and you’ve done so splendidly.” 

A cloud drifts in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the two of you. It brings forth a cooler breeze. “I brought date cakes.” Mary says, referring to the paper-wrapped package she had given to you earlier to put inside the bag. “They’re likely melting away.” 

“Oh, they’ve got honey in them?” 

She nods and smiles, causing your stomach to involuntarily rumble. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Let’s sit for a while.” 

The sugary date cakes stick to your fingers as Mary hands you one. You thank her, saying a quick prayer over it before you dig in. The treat melts on your tongue and you hum. “These were one of Jesus’ favourite foods when He was a child.” Mary tells you, causing your interest to pique. 

“Really?” 

“Mh-mm. I was very surprised when He first tried them and immediately asked for more, seeing that He had a very strong dislike towards raisins.” 

“Raisins? Really? How come I’ve never known this? We had— Jesus sometimes ate raisins while on the road.” You snort a laugh. “I’m very confused right now.” 

Mary laughs and licks some honey from her lips before swallowing her bite of food. “Hm… I know that Jesus didn’t complain about any food while travelling. He knew it was scarce and if He had to eat it, of course He would do so without whimpering about it. But whenever I gave Him the choice between cakes with or without raisins, He always chose the latter. I won’t say that Jesus refused to eat them, I’m just trying to say that… He had preferences.” 

“As we all do.” you muse at the lighthearted story about Mary’s experiences with raising the Son of God. “Fully divine, yet fully human.” 

“Before He rose again, yes.” Mary sighs, smiling as she finishes the rest of her sweet treat. You take another bite of yours and observe the older woman as she rinses the stickiness from her hands with a bit of water. “Now, He has returned to His Father in full glory.” 

The clouds leave the sun alone again, drifting away to allow warm rays to cast over your faces. Mary closes her eyes, basking in it.

“I can’t wait to see Him again.” you confess suddenly. “And until then, we will praise Him. And spread the Word of God, as He commanded us to do. To go to the ends of the Earth to make it known.” 

Mary lets out a pleasant sound before turning to you again. “I wish I could still do more, but these old bones…” 

You give a small shake of your head, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You have done enough. You have been working so hard for more than thirty years. I think it’s high time that you’ve earned your rest. Just be a witness of Him however you can. The students, all the believers, we will answer to our own calling. Take it easy, okay? You feel things as much as any other mother does, grief and wistfulness, and there is nothing wrong with that. Allow yourself time, and the rest will sort itself out, as long as we focus on Him.” 

You gesture at the sky, a movement that Mary follows with her eyes before she looks at you again. 

“You have wise words in you, (Y/n). I am certain that God will use you for His glory.”

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “I’m sure of it, too. Now, I was wondering…” Her eyes widen a bit as you lean closer to her, your smile turning into a grin. “Do you have any more of these lovely date cakes?” 

Mary laughs lightly and pats your shoulder, reaching for the package again. “Of course. You boys are always so hungry for seconds.” 

Gratefully, you dig into a second piece of cake as she fondly watches you enjoy the sweet treat. Mary knew she had to bring enough of it. It is a part of her motherly instinct that she will never quite lose, no matter how much time passes. 

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

The Locked Tomb Series Name and Symbolism #3

This one is a beast. Be warned.

And now, onto the original Penumbral Lady, the Mother of the 9th House, the First Keeper of the Tomb, the Lyctor that that never was, Anastasia the First.

Now Anastasia is one of the characters most riddled with symbols and hidden meaning and conspiracy theories, so I'll do my best to add my own tidbit here.

The studious over-researching scion of the Ninth House has ended up being a Symbol herself, in a way that all saints are to those that love and follow them. And the Ninth does love her, or at least, they love what they understand, what they perceive she stood for (The Anastasian monument and the whole "You could not trip in the Ninth House without falling over an Anastas, an Anastasia, or an Anastasius; or, in later years, bumping into their niche.")

But here we'll look into more mundane, if you will, aspects of her symbolism and perhaps come up wit ha theory or two on the way.

First things first, her name itself. Anastasia or Αναστασία is a name of Greek origin that is quite popular in Eastern Europe, and closely associated with Christianity (You'll be surprised at how many Saints of the Orthodox Church have born that name. Okay it's five, but it still seems a lot) It originates from the ancient Greek word ἀνάστασις, meaning Resurrection. The noun itself comes from the compound verb ἀνίστημι, which for our language nerds such as myself out there has two components ἀνά meaning again and ἵστημι meaning stand. So practically, stand again, which is my personal favorite take on the name. Being the one that stands up again, and again, and again. Beautifully stubborn, don't you think? And quite fitting for our Saint here, for research is nothing but failing and falling down time after time only to rise back up wiser than before and face the challenge again. In all honesty, this also reminds me of a few other Ninth House dolts, that redid that trial countless times without any sleep, food whatsoever. For all my experimentalists and researchers out there, do NOT be like Harrow. A few hours of sleep, or a walk down the hallway and a glass of water might help you figure it out, more than tiredly redoing the same thing over a thousand times. Oh, I am off track though, I apologize.

Back to our point, Anastasia = Resurrection. Now whether that resurrection refers to her own coming back from the dead (we see Alecto recognizing her bones huddled in a corner ready to roll the stone back up) or perhaps another Second Resurrection, with John overthrown and things returning to their natural order - more or less, kinda, I mean who knows?- and her or her blood aka Harrowhark playing a significant part, I don't know.

What we also do not know, are the exact circumstances of her existence post ascension attempt, and the manner of her death, both of which are clouded in mystery. Kind of like another Anastasia in history. Yes, that's the one, Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia. Countless rumors of her possible escape circulated after her death, fueled by the fact that the location of her burial was unknown until even decades later. And still even after the mass grave was found, the bodies of the young tsarevich and one daughter were missing. (Those were found in 2007 and the body is attributed either to Maria or to Anastasia). Another Anastasia that for decades was clouded in mystery.

But mysteries are kind of a Ninth House thing, aren't they. What with the jawless skull, the only known treatment to a sewn tongue being the house symbol and all. And my gosh, the whole thing with Alecto has my brain spinning. Because why would John ask of Anastasia to guard Alecto in the tomb? Why would he sent his only failed student, the one he betrayed, with the thing that could spell his end? Why lock them up together? Unless the point was not to give Anastasia a role, but to punish her.

According to the eighth as they so graciously inform us, the Ninth shouldn't even exist. Anastasia should have sealed herself with Alecto in the tomb and died there. There was no plan for her having descendants, a bloodline unbroken for ten thousand years (Why, I wonder? What did it service? Why was it so important and so deeply integrated in the Reverend Family that Harrow's parents had to go to the lengths they did to ensure the continuation of Anastasia's bloodline? To ensure, unknowingly that the oath between Anastasia and Alecto still held true?)

Before diving to my own conspiracy theory about these questions I would like to point out a parallel between Anastasia being locked as a punishment in the tomb and one of the most well known tragedies of the ancient Greek world. It could be none other than Sophocles' Antigone. And again the parallel between Antigone and Anastasia is so prominent as the Alecto Αληκτώ one, that having translated the part

Ὦ τύμβος, ὦ νυμφεῖον, ὦ κατασκαφὴς οἴκησις αἰείφρουρος, οἷ πορεύομαι πρὸς τοὺς ἐμαυτῆς, ὧν ἀριθμὸν ἐν νεκροῖς πλεῖστον δέδεκται Φερσέφασσ’ ὀλωλότων· ὧν λοισθία ’γὼ καὶ κάκιστα δὴ μακρῷ κάτειμι, πρίν μοι μοῖραν ἐξήκειν βίου. Ἐλθοῦσα μέντοι κάρτ’ ἐν ἐλπίσιν τρέφω φίλη μὲν ἥξειν πατρί, προσφιλὴς δὲ σοί, μῆτερ, φίλη δὲ σοί, κασίγνητον κάρα·

I don't know how many times, I should be ashamed of myself for not making the connection sooner. Our Greek speakers have probably already figured out the translation, but lets put it here as well... this is the most famous

Ω Τάφε μου, κρεβάτι νυφικό, σπίτι μου στη βαθιά τη γη κι αιώνιο κελί μου, έρχομαι να βρω τους δικούς μου νεκρούς που μέγα πλήθος η Περσεφόνη φίλεψε...

(I am cutting this short, we will need the English version either way. Don't ask why this part is such a big deal. It just is)

Anyhow, for everyone else that didn't grow up around Greek comedic series of the 90s this whole thing translates to

O tomb, my bridal-bed—my house, my prison cut in the hollow rock, my everlasting watch! I'll soon be there, soon embrace my own, the great growing family of our dead Persephone has received among her ghosts. I, the last of them all, the most reviled by far, go down before my destined time's run out. But still I go, cherishing one good hope, my arrival may be dear to father, dear to you, my mother, dear to you, my loving brother...

And while the bridal bed line would make for an interesting interpretation, seeing Harrow's -Anastasia's blood, instant pull to Alecto and seeings as we never figured out the nature of the relationship between Alecto and Anastasia, it is the greater premise of the story that we care about.

In short, Antigone had two brothers, who fought over who could rule over Thebes. So evenly matched they were, that they both perished in the fight, and Antigone's uncle, Creon, takes over. Eteokles (Ετεοκλής) who stood for Thebes was buried with the honors befitting a king. His brother Polyneikis (Πολυνείκης) however was left out of the city borders, exposed to the elements, his body abandoned to be consumed by vultures. Creon ordered that no one was under any circumstances allowed to give Polyneikis any sort of death rites, and going against this order was punishable by death. If you know your way around Greek myths, you know that is the worst thing you could do to someone, and it was considered a heinous crime both by mortals, and most importantly, the gods. Antigone, defies Creon's order to not bury Polyneikis and performs the rites symbolically, applying a thin layer of dirt on her dead brother's body. Creon finds out, and after his son begging him for Antigone's life instead of her being killed by stone throwing, Creon decided to bury her alive in a cave with no food or water, until she died of thirst and hunger. Thus the tomb, and prison Antigone mourns about. The story does go on, and ends up with Antigone being found dead, having taken her own life in the tomb, Creon's son, who was in love with her trying to kill his father, failing, and killing himself, and Creon's wife Euridice, killing herself at the loss of her only son. Creon then exiles himself from Thebes cursing his own αστοχασιά, foolhardiness and imprudence at not following the moral laws and the will of the gods.

Antigone chooses to go against man-written laws, and the power of the mortal king, in order bury her brother, following the divine honor and will of the gods, as well as her love for her brother. In return she is punished by being buried alive where she chooses to end her life and meet her family in the Underworld.

The parallel to Anastasia is rather prominent in this case. Anastasia in attempting perfect Lyctorhood goes against John's will, something however that she didn't know, and John himself didn't realize probably until the oh crap she is going to achieve perfect Lyctorhood, and my mistakes will be obvious for everyone to see. Doubt is going to enter everyone's minds and then I will have lost them all over again.

So he kills Samael - again, I think that something might indeed have gone wrong in the process and Alecto might have been involved with or without John's urging, but that' s a story for another time. And Anastasia is all that remains, brokenhearted and unwhole. He doesn't kill her and she lingers, probably doubtful and distrusting. Then she is tasked with guarding Alecto's tomb until her death. John seals Anastasia in the tomb, much like Creon seals Antigone, because she went against his will. Whether that is because of perfect Lyctorhood or some later transgression - a potential pact/ blooming friendship with Alecto, we don't know.

John like a petulant child, locks his broken toys away, where no one but him can find them, where nothing but his blood can free them. Anastasia like Antigone, follows rules larger than her small king, and is entombed with the body she is supposed to protect as a result. She makes peace with her death, does not cling to life, seemingly already having met Samael in the life after (if he is indeed dead)by the time Alecto is freed and tastes her in Harrow's blood. She is naught but a pile of bones ready to roll the stone and seal the tomb once more. John's intentions were never for her to have descendants, for the ninth to become a house. It was to lock the women who he left behind, whose trust he betrayed, for eternity. To keep their doubts, and their secrets and power forever buried.

[jh-newman-opn]

Mary thoughts from the Monastery

soooooo in celebration of reaching the halfway point of the megarosary (!!! who would have thought) here are all the notes I made while I was in the monastery, in chronological order:

Day 12: glorious mysteries

Bad Christology leads to bad mariology

rejects that the Eucharist is Christ's Body -> rejection of Mary's sinlessness. Leviticus 7:19-20 states that one has to be clean to receive (eat) a sacrifice -> if we must be clean of (mortal) sin to receive the Eucharistic Sacrifice, then Mary must have been sinless to carry that same Body inside her for nine months

rejecting Christ as New Adam -> Mary cannot be New Eve

Ascension/Assumption are a typological return to Eden

If the salvific work of the cross is not atemporal, and thus the Mass is not that same sacrifice, then Mary cannot have been saved and made immaculate at the moment of her conception before the Crucifixion chronologically happened

Day 13: joyful mysteries

Struck with the image of an angel kneeling at the feet of the teenage Mary saying hail, full of grace

The Presentation -> adoration?

Does Mary purify the temple at the Presentation as Jesus blesses the water at His baptism? Neither needed purifying.

Days 15-17

waiting is hope -> how much time passed between the resurrection and the ascension, the ascension and pentecost, pentecost and the assumption?

Did Mary watch the disciples be martyred? -> did she have to keep going as her new children died

it hurts Mary to see the Body of Christ wounded -> both victims of abuse and the damage to the church itself

possible that this current era of church is a case of wheat separating from chaff -> build solid foundations

Day 20: sorrowful mysteries

"the Lord is with you" -> rather than her being with the Lord, or "with child"

Hail, full of grace -> state of grace as opposed to state of sin -> "The Grace-filled One"

to die is to live -> smaller, purer church

"I was punished, I was punished by the Lord-- but not doomed to die" -> the long penitential road for our sufferings and sins

Day 22: joyful mysteries

Thought: Mary is the only person on whose actions salvation has been dependant

her fiat enabled Christ to come as a human

the infant Christ in His humanity was dependant on her care for survival

Christ (God) came as man so we venerate His humanity specifically, as He chose it. Mary and her enabling role were also chosen by Him, therefore should be venerated

The Purification/Presentation seems to mimic Christ's baptism -> why does Christ, being sinless, need to be baptised? to sanctify the waters. Why does Mary, being pure, need to be purified? to sanctify the Temple. But Mary herself has no power to sanctify-- she presents Christ, who sanctifies. But Christ, being a baby, could not get to the Temple of His own accord, nor had any conception of what was going on. He needed Mary to enable this passage of grace.

The Visitation-- Christ causes John the Baptist to quicken, but the circumstances of the Visitation happen only by Mary's choice to visit Elizabeth. She carries the power of God within herself, but has no power of her own.

This pattern continues at the Wedding in Cana

Given this-- is it not fitting that her role as a mediatrix be continued in Heaven? If we still venerate Christ's humanity, specifically chosen, as a continued aspect of this personhood, then is Mary's specifically chosen role as a mediator of Christ's power not also an eternal, specifically chosen role worthy of veneration?

[ncfan-1]

I feel like Episode 7 just drove the point home of an opinion I’ve had for a long time, that the Jedi join the Order far too young.

I think you can take it as a given that the life of a Jedi really isn’t for everyone, no matter how strong with the Force they might be. It’s a stringent lifestyle that asks much of those who join the Order. Yes, it’s clear that allowing attachment to drive your actions tends to lead to sticky situations when you’re a Jedi, but every Jedi you see pre-Original Trilogy joined at such a young age that they could not possibly have understood the weight of the decision that they were making when they made it. If they were old enough to understand it at all, if they weren’t toddlers or babies and it was their parents making it for them.

Sol was four years old when he joined the Jedi Order. Do you think he was old enough to understand the gravity of the decision he was making? Do you think he was old enough to understand the stringent lifestyle that would be his, for the rest of his life? Do you think he was old enough to make the decision on whether he was capable of living without attachment?

Sol has consistently come off like a man who just is not temperamentally suited for a life without attachment. He’s plainly driven by a need to love in ways that do not align with Jedi teachings. He expresses in Episode 7 that he wants a Padawan, but the subtext is that something else is going on here, and that there is something else behind the reason why he’s been denied an apprentice for what seems to have been a long time. The Council recognizes his longing for what it is, even if he doesn’t. It’s not an apprentice he longs for, but a child. He doesn’t long to be a mentor; he longs to be a parent.

He can’t express that longing. He’s a Jedi. They aren’t supposed to have those kinds of attachments. He’s been in the Order since he was four years old. Jedi aren’t supposed to have children—or if they, by unfortunate circumstances, do wind up having children, then they aren’t supposed to raise them themselves. He can’t express his longing to be a parent. He’s not supposed to have that longing. Possibly, he doesn’t even know it for what it is, because he’s spent so long rearranging it into something more appropriate for a Jedi.

But what you suppress will always re-emerge, and so it does on Brendok. I’m not sure what it is that spurred his immediate feeling of connection to Osha. It feels like a sort of platonic love at first sight, and since Star Wars is a fairytale, maybe it was that. I sort of wonder if it wasn’t a sort of unconscious “like recognizes like.” Osha is in a situation that she doesn’t really want, and so is Sol. Osha doesn’t want to go through the Ascension and become a witch, and deep down, there are parts of life as a Jedi that Sol doesn’t want, namely the stricture against attachment that prevents him from having the sort of love that he wants, what would make him feel fulfilled. Like recognizes like.

Sol can’t express his desire to be a parent, but neither can he ever kill that desire. So he acts it out in really inappropriate ways. He stalks after the girls, he draws conclusions about their home life that just so happen to conveniently fit a narrative that Osha, at least, needs to be removed from it. He coaches her through the Force-sensitivity test. He digs his heels in and insists, even after the Council rightly admonish him and the rest of the team to stop kicking the hornet’s nest that is the Brendok coven.

He mistakes Mae for Osha. He loves Osha. Love at first sight. He doesn’t know Osha.

Sol gets Osha. He gets Osha after he’s killed her mother, and the ensuing battle saw the rest of her family die as well. He gets Osha by choosing not to save Mae. He gets Osha by telling a lie that the little girl he chose not to save was responsible for it all. He gets the daughter he can’t bring himself to admit that he wants by bringing about the deaths of everyone else she loves.

And then Sol loses Osha. Because as it turned out, Osha wasn’t temperamentally suited for the stringent lifestyle of a Jedi, either. Almost certainly, it was the lie he told her that knocked her off-course, because Osha admits more than once that she was never able to let go of her anger and resentment towards Mae for killing their family, and it’s obvious from her present-day interactions with her that Osha holds Mae in utter contempt, seems almost to hate her. Sol might have felt that he was safe for a while, that the lie that shifted his guilt off of his shoulders and onto Osha’s dead sister might let everything be okay, but the lie poisoned Osha’s future with the Jedi. What you suppress will always come back to haunt you. Even before Mae turned up alive, Sol’s lie found ways to haunt him, found ways to ruin everything. Osha was drummed out of the Order because of anger and resentment towards Mae, which rightfully belonged to Sol. Osha was drummed out of the Order precisely because of the way Sol got her. It was all tainted from the start. Selfishness will do that.

The desire to be a parent is a perfectly natural one. But Jedi aren’t supposed to have children. They aren’t supposed to have those kinds of attachments, because of the dangers of selfishness.

Sol was four years old when he was asked if he wanted to be a Jedi. How could a four-year-old boy possibly know if he would be able to live his life without attachment? How could a four-year-old boy possibly know for certain that there would never come a day when he realized that in order to be fulfilled, he would need something that the Order he was joining just could not provide him?

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 8

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 1,506; Chapter 8, Astarion POV, Final Chapter

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

Previous

Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. Final chapter incoming! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first multi-chapter fic!

When Astarion looked up, Halsin had joined them. He placed a hand on Astarion’s shoulder and gave him a friendly smile.

“Welcome back, Astarion.” He said, wiping tears from his eyes. Astarion smiled up at the handsome elf, still holding Tav against him.

“Thank you…for having me back.”

Halsin pulled them both into a hug, kissing the top of Tav’s head. As lovely as they felt against him, he couldn’t keep a sudden feeling of dread from filling his mind.

“Tell me,” Astarion asked quietly, “what happened to the others? The prisoners that Cazador kept?”

“We got them out, they were making their way to the Underdark.” Halsin replied softly.

“Good.” A wave of relief came over him helping to wash away his guilt. “Thank you…for stopping me…”

Halsin gave a small nod in response, Tav hugged him a little tighter.

“Come on, love. We should go and tell the others that you’re back.” She said, detaching herself from him.

Astarion allowed them to lead him back towards the campfire with their other companions. Tav had her arm looped through his, holding on to him tightly. Halsin walked on the other side of her, one arm around her waist.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Astarion asked, suddenly anxious. “I doubt that the others will be as…understanding as you.”

“The best way to move past your mistakes is to face them, my friend.” Halsin’s low voice was soft, but it carried in the still air.

“You have to face them eventually, Astarion.” Tav urged, gently. “You didn’t just hurt us when you left, my love. You hurt them too.” She gave his arm a soft squeeze.

Astarion felt a small pit form in his stomach. He found it hard to believe that his absence would have truly affected any of the others. The way Tav spoke, she made it seem like they were saddened by him leaving. That couldn’t be true. Tav was the only one who actually cared for him, maybe Halsin, the others were more acquaintances of pure circumstance…right?

They were close enough that Astarion could distinguish between the different figures around the fire. Everyone was talking in hushed tones, their heads hung low. He found himself unable to take the next step, suddenly terrified of what they would think of him.

“Hey.” Tav stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. They may be hurting, but they’ll be happy to see you’re alright. Trust me.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leading him into the light of the fire. He looked over to Halsin who gave him an encouraging smile. Astarion took a deep breath, and then cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.

Tav stood silently next to Astarion as their other companions turned to look at them. She laced her fingers with his and he gripped her hand tightly.

“Hey Tav! You came –” Karlach stopped abruptly as she registered that Astarion was standing next to her. “A…Astarion?” She stammered.

“Er, yes. Hello, everyone.” He barely squeaked out the words. Tav gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re back…” Shadowheart stared at him in disbelief.

“I, uh…” He looked over to Tav, and she gave him a small nod. Looking out over the familiar faces, he expected to see them angry or indifferent at best. Instead, he saw genuine concern, some confusion, and…relief?

“I believe I owe you all an apology.” He bowed his head slightly, still feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I said some awful things back at Cazador’s Palace. I…I wasn’t myself.” He took another deep breath before continuing. He looked over to Gale and Shadowheart, shame welling up inside of him all over again.

“I’d like…” He trailed off, his chest a tightly wound ball of anxiety. “I’d like to come back to your camp. I’d like to continue traveling together, if you’ll have me.”

He nervously scanned their faces, waiting for a response. The air around him was heavy with the sound of silence. He watched as their gazes moved from him to Tav, trying to judge her reaction. Karlach was the first to stand up and walk over to him. She glanced over to Tav, who gave a small smile and nod in response.

“Our camp.” She clapped a hand onto his shoulder, flashing her huge smile at him. “We never wanted you to leave, Fangs.”

Astarion blinked up at her in shock. Before he knew it, everyone had gathered around him. They were all talking over each other, welcoming him back. He felt a couple of pats on his shoulders and back, Gale extended his hand out to clasp Astarion’s arm. Minsc nearly knocked him to the ground. He looked back at Tav, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. She gave him a cocky smile as if trying to say I told you so.

“Thank you.” He whispered, resting his head against hers.

Tav and Shadowheart walked him over to one of the seats by the fire. Tav brought a few small cloths and small water basin over for him to clean the blood from his hands and torso. She helped gently wipe away some of the blood from his face and hair. Shadowheart’s soothing magic took the sting out of his bruises, and healed the cuts that were concealed by the blood caked on his skin.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughs and smiles. He soaked in each and every sound around him. Other than an occasional companion checking in on his wellbeing, no one mentioned his mishap. There were no harsh words or punishments, no lashings or demeaning speeches. Tav was leaning against his side with her legs draped across Halsin’s lap.

“Could I stay with you tonight?” He whispered into her ear.

“Tonight…and every night.” She whispered back, turning her head to give him a long, soft kiss.

“Ugh, remind me not to get too close to either of your tents tonight…” Karlach joked, feigning disgust. The comment caused Tav to blush, giving Astarion a warm feeling throughout his chest. He squeezed her a little tighter against his side. He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice even more so only she could hear.

“She has no idea, darling.” His words caused Tav’s blush to deepen, and she was fighting a losing battle to hide a smile. He had almost forgotten how much fun it was to tease her.

One by one, their friends turned in for the night. Karlach made some suggestive gestures at Tav as she walked away to her tent, causing another blush to flow across her face and chest. Before leaving, Halsin leaned over to give Tav a soft kiss on her lips, then nose.

“I hope you have a wonderful night, my heart.” He heard him whisper before heading off to bed. With that, Tav stood up and offered him her hand.

“Shall we?” Her sweet smile shone in the dim firelight. He took her hand and gave it a light kiss before standing up and following her back to the familiar confines of his tent.

***

That night, Astarion held Tav’s bare skin against his own again for the first time since Moonrise Towers. Her whole body was pressed up against him, absentmindedly tracing lines across his chest. Her gentle movements slowed as she started to drift off into her trance.

“I love you…always…” She murmured into his chest.

Always, He thought. He quite liked the sound of that.

“And I love you, darling.” He whispered back.

Astarion was finally free of his torment, finally free of Cazador. He kissed her softly on the forehead, holding her head against his chest. He looked back down at Tav’s face, almost afraid to drift off into his own meditation lest he wake up and find out this was all a dream.

No. There were never any dreams living under Cazador’s sadistic rule. Those only came after Tav. It was then that he finally accepted that he was loved. He accepted that despite his mistakes, despite his past, he finally had people who cared for him, actually cared for him. He allowed himself to relax into Tav’s embrace, trusting that come morning she would still be by his side. A large smile spread across his face. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the future, his future. He saw himself gathered at the various taverns of Baldur’s Gate, finally learning to dance with friends and drinking the night away. He let his mind wander to when he would be ready to be with both Tav and Halsin. He imagined himself and Tav in a home of their own, maybe somewhere in the city. In truth, it didn’t matter. Home would be wherever he could wake up next to her. From now on, home would be wherever they were together.

This…this is going to be fun. He thought to himself, as he fell into a trance free of nightmares.

[ane-doodles]

Hypothetically speaking, if Avana and Yuridia were to fight, who would win?

Hmm that's a tough one...

If we were talking about Avana in her stage as an infant god or in her beginnings of ascension then the balance would easily be on the side of Yuridia with millennia of experience.

On the other hand, if we were talking about an Avana in her state as a god of death and resurrection then things would be more balanced.

In Yuridia's dimension she is the last existing goddess, she is aggressive in contrast to her appearance. She is also the oldest and most experienced goddess.

On the other side of the table you have Avana, a young goddess who gained her position by force and whose power is cultivated through her own efforts. She is guided by grace but has learned to fight when necessary...

I couldn't decide who would win because I think it would depend on the circumstances and what can be considered victory (for example, if we were talking about one killing the other then the winner would be Avana, since Yuridia can't really kill)

For comparative purposes I could say that:

• Avana earned her crown through sacrifices // Yuridia has had her crown since birth

• Avana is in her constant learning stage // Yuridia has been a complete goddess for centuries

• Avana has dominion over death and resurrection // Yuridia has dominion over reincarnation

• Avana obtains passive power from the other bishops' crowns // Yuridia no because the crowns in her dimension are dead

• Avana has motivations beyond her own desires such as protecting her cult and the people in it // Yuridia's primary motivations revolve around maintaining her position

• Avana is still taking control over the powers of the crown, having to sometimes give up part of her will // Yuridia has complete control over the crown, not depending on the limitations

Personally I think these two wouldn't get along at all, but I have no idea who would win a fight (assuming Yuridia fights fair). The decision is all yours :)

[itsclydebitches]

I... don't even know what to do with that episode. That was far worse than I was expecting. Look, I might not agree with how they're framing the Paper Pleasers, but at least they're non-human civilians of the Ever After whose ultimate goal is to improve themselves. You cannot compare that (which is what RT is doing with Ascension as a whole) to Ruby having an intense grieving arc, being tortured, and then deciding she didn't want to be Ruby Rose anymore - she needed it all to stop. That's a suicide attempt. And it's treated as such! The issues with the team just standing around while Ruby drinks the tea aside, there's a reason why we get that horrified closeup on Yang's eye. Why many fans are pleased that now she has someone romantic to comfort her in her grief. Why the Cat is desperate to get Ruby back and is surprised to find her later in the tree. Why Neo suddenly gives up because, supposedly, she now has no goal. Because Ruby is gone. The Cat's plans, Neo's emptiness, the team's horror - ALL of it stems from the understanding that Ruby has just done something irreversible and (outside of expectations for a story's protagonist) is not coming back.

So to then open the next episode with pep-talk fun times is??? Oh look, the Paper Pleasers are now gem people and have no memory of who Jaune is. Isn't that great? Didn't allowing them to drown themselves make them so much better? Because after all, "better" is to be stronger, physically, impervious to fire and flood, never mind their memories and personalities. Who cares about those? Who cares about incremental self-improvement gained through hard work? Who cares about reframing supposed weaknesses as unique strengths under the right circumstances? Nah, forget all that. Evil Jaune was being so selfish for trying to keep a village of friends from killing themselves. And yes, we need to focus on that because why would anyone be worried about Ruby right now? She's fine! Putting aside the fact that they don't know what Ascension does to a non-Afteran, clearly suicide attempts = power-ups, so yay circumstances forcing Ruby to a place where she wants to die. That'll be useful in defeating Salem. C'mon, Yang, you were so cheery a moment ago. Why the sudden doubt while seeing your little sister encased in a tree? This is her choice and nothing matters more than letting people hurt themselves if that's what they want to do. Obviously Ruby will come back better than ever, so just chill about her being so broken she wanted to end it all, yeah?

This could have EASILY been avoided by just presenting Ascension as a kind of self-reflection - similar to the Caterpillar's smoke - wherein the girls can all choose to drink the tea with no suicidal implications, have a chat with the armorer, and come out with a power boost before they return to Remnant. Simplistic, but easy. So WHY did we spend all Volume taking Ruby through a deep depression, culminating in her becoming so hopeless that she decides to end things despite rescue standing right in front of her... and then presenting that as a celebratory moment of growth??

This is, for me, where RWBY officially jumps the shark. They really did that. Local girl tries to die after being horrifically tortured, but that's a good thing because she'll come back better than ever, wielding her mother's weapon which we've never seen before. Love that for Ruby. So the rest of the team should try to hurt themselves too now, right? After all, there's nothing to be afraid of with this wonderful tree. Just engage in a little inconsequential self-harm and come out a new and improved huntress.

On the WIP docket: write a fic where Ruby, in keeping with canon, comes out with no memory of who anyone is, with a radically different personality, and no intention of being a huntress anymore. I want the story to follow its own rules and implications, resulting in the group having a serious reality check about what Ruby actually did and the actual impact this should have based on what they've seen in the Ever After. The Cat is right: it's not Ruby Rose that comes back out - because that's what she wanted when she drank - and the team has to grapple with the fact that they're never going to have their leader/little sister again. There's someone new standing there, sure, but she's a complete stranger in Ruby's body (if even her body comes out the same, ie the King).

Ruby Rose is dead.