#After the battle

[unicornia93]

The Kiss 🌻🌿

Your hands reach mine, a glance, a breath. We will live to see yet another dawn. I hold you closer, and without a word the distance is closed and your lips meet mine. Another dawn... another day shared with you..

🌻🌿✨🌿🌻

Got around to redraw this again! Sometimes it is great to see how far you've come since 2019, which is when I drew the first edition. Second is from 2021! Really happy with this last one, and with my coloring lately. It’s been a journey!

Alusys the halfling bard belongs to @vesprynna

Gaeril the halfelf druid is my boy and we play these in Storm Kings Thunder!

I wrote a blog post that is open for all on my ko-fi, so if you're interested in getting a closer look on my journey you can find it here:

[ginnyw-potter]

In his arms

Harry could not stand to see the devastation of losing a brother, a son. The way the Weasleys pulled themselves out of bed, exhausted and set themselves to work around the house just to keep going. 

He could not make Fred return, and he could not fix the hurt but he'd still try to help them in some way. He helped Mrs Weasley clean all the crockery that had garnered dust in their absence. He played chess with Ron and chatted about how he'd win next time. He helped Mr Weasley close up the gnome holes that were bigger than ever. He talked to Percy about new regulations being passed. He discussed their heist in Gringotts with Bill. He helped George sort through paperwork. He told Charlie where to find the escaped Gringotts dragon. 

Ginny wasn't doing anything at all, lying on her bed, staring at the wall. 

"Everyone is keeping busy to avoid thinking… and you lie here stuck in your own thoughts," Harry said as he stepped into her room. 

Her hazel eyes turned to him. "I don't mind it so much when I know they're my own thoughts.".

Harry stepped closer to her. "I haven't had my thoughts to myself in a long time." 

Ginny patted the spot beside her. "You should try it out sometime."

"I think Percy may need-"

"You always do that. When you're upset or sad… you go around seeking out others to focus on instead of yourself," she said softly. 

"I don't…" he trailed off when Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Maybe a little." 

"Come here." 

He nodded and kicked his shoes off before getting onto the bed, facing her. It was silent for a minute as they looked at each other. 

"And?" Ginny asked. 

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'm doing this right, all I think of is you." 

Ginny smiled and reached out to take his glasses off and put them aside. "Close your eyes." 

Harry did as she said. After a while, the thoughts of Ginny simmered down but he didn't particularly like it. Too many feelings rose up, entirely his own for the first time, and he lay there with them. 

"How's that?" Ginny asked softly. 

Harry kept his eyes closed. "I don't know. I'm starting to think my temper is not nearly as bad as I thought." 

"I know that," she said softly. 

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. "Do you?" 

"I can tell the difference between the actual upset and … whatever came on top of that." 

"I'm not enjoying the rest of it though, it hurts." 

Ginny placed a hand on his chest right by his heart. "Here?" 

He nodded. 

She smiled. "It'll get better. It only hurts there because you're so capable of love for the people around you. It's what sets you apart … from him." 

Harry's hand covered hers on his chest. "I'm not sure if I like it all that much." 

"You're not supposed to." Her eyes watered slightly. 

"I was supposed to help you, not the other way around," Harry muttered. 

"Trust me, you're helping," she said.

"Am I?" 

She nodded. "Some of my hurt in here" — her hand touched her own chest — "goes away when you're here." 

"Can I make it better?" Harry said but then he had already started pulling her closer to him, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her to his chest. 

She wrapped an arm around his waist as she snuggled against him. "That works for me." 

They fell silent for a moment until Ginny spoke. "If I lay here any longer, I'll fall asleep, you're comfy."

"I'm glad to be of help, go ahead and sleep." 

Ginny curled into him even more, her face pressed against his chest and closed her eyes. He watched silently as she dozed off in his arms for the first time. He decided he wanted her to sleep in his arms for as long as she'd let him.

[ghostlyrps]

@radicheart

It wasn't often on their walks that Ghost got to run into Sinners of importance- and important they considered him. He may not have been an Overlord, but he was powerful enough to rival them, to topple them with ease.

If that wasn't enough reason to show respect, well, it still didn't feel so long ago that Ghost and Alastor had fought together in the battle against Heaven at the Hazbin Hotel. Side by side, no- but Ghost had seen Alastor wounded after the battle and had offered him their assistance.

Ghost themself had been wounded as well- losing half their right wing when it was hit by one of Adam's blasts of light. As a result, their wardrobe had changed ever so slightly- now with what looked to be some kind of cloak or blanket on Ghost's right side, secured with a pin and small weights stitched to the bottom. The loss of their wing had unbalanced them, and even now, as they bowed slightly, it wasn't as deep as it would have been, nor did it have the typical flourish.

"Alastor, sir. It's lovely seeing you, how have you been?" They glanced at his chest subtly, then added- "No issues, I hope?"

[siriusmuggle]

Hello!!! Hi! Hey. So, I am going to post a story within the month!!! Woo! I know, crazy. Unfortunately, it is not a Tony Stark story. I know a lot of you are here for the man, that is Mr. Stark. But I put so much pressure on myself to update that I needed to stretch my wings elsewhere before coming back to a WIP. I'm working on a Thorin/reader one shot... maybe two. A lil bit of after the battle angst/love story! But a HEA! And I should have it done within the month! I hope you'll stop by to read it on AO3 when it's done and keep your fingers crossed that this strikes the match under my simmering motivation! Love you!!!

Here's a lil something something for you!

"Love in the Dark"

[lee-bee777]

[lifewithaview]

Game of Thrones (2011) Valar Dohaeris

S3E1

Beyond the wall, those of the Night's Watch that have survived try to go south to warn everyone of what is coming. Samwell is taken to task for not having sent the ravens. Jon Snow meets Mance Rayder, the King beyond the Wall and is accepted among them. In King's Landing, Tyrion's face has healed and Cersei pays him a visit worried about what he might say about her to their father. Tyrion enlists Bronn, now a knight, to protect him. He doesn't get much satisfaction from his father who promises him better living quarters but not much else. Lady Margaery is cementing her place at court. Sansa meanwhile may have a way out of King's Landing courtesy of Lord Baelish. Davos Seaworth has survived and is rescued. He returns to Dragonstone intent on stopping Melisandre but soon finds himself in the dungeons. Robb Stark arrives at Harrenhal to find all of its occupants dead. Daenerys arrives in Astapor looking for an army. Ser Jorah tells her the Unsullied are the best fighters in the world.

The episode title "Valar Dohaeris" is an expression in High Valyrian, the meaning of which is "all men must serve".

[blue-kyber]

My characters went through a lot. The normal sci-fi reaction to encountering a dangerous enemy and escape or defeat them is to celebrate and be all "woohoo! We made it! Back to life as usual like this didn't affect us at all."

The actual human reaction is this:

...Onboard the Horizon in hyperspace…

Yune shed the armor and let it lie in a heap on the floor. That armor offered nothing he wanted.

He flopped back into the pilot's seat to an exhale of relief now that they were in the safety of a hypercourse. 

The shifting light played across the interior of the cockpit and the only three people inside it, though nobody moved. Nobody spoke. There were no cheers or praises. No pats on the back, or victorious celebrating. No sense of satisfaction.

Just thick, all encompassing silence.

Without the adrenaline rush of the flight, their encounter with the Vitiate slammed into them hard.

The soothing hum of the Horizon’s engines surrounded them in its blanket of home. The ship held them, protected them, tried to warm her crew with its lighting and perfect temperature setting. They were safe here.

So why didn’t they feel like it?

Will tried to rub the cold away from his arms, but it lingered, stuck to him like oil. He couldn't get his heart to stop pounding.

Terra tightened her arms around her twin and tried to force that feeling away. That dark presence would haunt her nightmares.

Yune’s stomach turned from the feeling of that dark energy wrapped around him, and violating his mind. Whatever shattered in his head had quickly reformed, leaving him confused as to why he felt so raw - like the kid Jeina insisted he was. He remembered all of his actions, and that blue pulse from out of nowhere that should have destroyed his weapon. Neither Will nor Terra were touching him, so it couldn’t be them, and it wasn’t him. That last thought felt like a lie. Then how? How? 

He shivered in an attempt to warm up. If he moved too fast right now, he might lose his lunch.

Will tucked his knees up and held onto Terra. That was death. And they had beat the impossible odds of escaping it.

Yune carefully swiveled the seat to face the kids on his right. He pushed the cup holders into their slot in the console to get them out of the way. He didn’t want to move much more than that. His cabin was only a deck above, but even that seemed too far. 

Are you alright? He asked Will and Terra in his head. No words came out. His mouth couldn’t form them. He’d reverted back to being non-verbal, as he’d done as a kid. He hadn't done that in years. His hands trembled. He clasped them to steady them, but it did nothing.

He worried his face, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stared at the space between his shoes. His mind reeled through recovery around his still-rapid pulse as though he’d just barely escaped the event horizon of a black hole after being gripped by its deadly force.

There were no jokes for this. 

No light-hearted quips or witty one-liners that would save himself or the kids. He had used humor to survive many harrowing situations in the past, but for this… he had nothing. Humor couldn’t touch it. All he felt was cold.

And so he said nothing.

Tag list: @muddshadow @cedar-west @athenixrose @penspiration-writing @runningoutofbooks @tobiornottobithatisthequestion @roll-top-writing @subject-2-change @dreaming-in-seams @mismatchingart @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @thewriteflame @writingventriloquist @ren-c-leyn @asher-orion-writes @aninkwellofnectar @winterandwords @raevenlywrites @nanashi23 @athenaannarose

[asapuff]

In the first years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Molly was so busy taking care of everyone around her that the grief didn't have a chance to take root. There were so many hurts to heal, families to mend, things to rebuild. And, of course, there was George.

George needed her. His grief came first.

But slowly, George grew out of his grief. The black cloak became a sweater. He wore it everywhere, but it didn't slow him down anymore.

And then there was Angelina and the sweater became a handkerchief, tucked in a pocket.

And Molly was alone. Of course she had Arthur, though he was busy at the Ministry, more respect more responsibility. The Burrow was so large now. So empty. And her grief, so long folded tightly and pushed aside, became restless in the quiet.

That's when she found the magazine. Piles of muggle junk everywhere but this stood out. Twins. Twin boys on the front cover. They looked nothing like her boys, but that didn't matter. They were happy. No sorrow in their eyes or scars on their faces. They wore bright sweaters with ridiculous patterns and she finally sank to the ground and cried. She cried like she had never let herself cry before.

When she heard Arthur arrive home that evening she picked herself up, dried her eyes, and folded the magazine into her apron pocket.

She listened with distracted interest to Arthur describe his day. (Something about a small muggle child accidentally flushing herself into the ministry.) Finally she felt Arthur's hand on hers and looked into his questioning eyes. The tears flowed slower this time, indeed she was surprised there were any left to be shed, and Arthur's soon followed. They sat there at the kitchen table, holding each other wordlessly until darkness settled in the room.

Nearly a week passed before she brought herself to look at the magazine again. There, in the back, she found the knitting patterns for the odd sweaters of the innocently happy twin boys. It was time to learn something new.

The day after Arthur wore his new sweater to work a memo entitled 'Dress Code Reminder' arrived on his desk.

[emiliangelova]

[sleepysebris]

:) 🖤

@mlsecretsanta gift for @thequeenofspace! happy belated holidays and apologies for the delay, had a serious family emergency followed by sickness! I had so much fun making this though, was so excited to finally draw these two 🖤 hope you enjoy!!!

[circuscountdowns]

many centuries down the line they can manage to have a civil enough family game night.

[ginnyw-potter]

Loving Her Is Easy

Written for Day 28 of @hinnyfest

Prompt: "I am glad you're alive."

Also on AO3

Harry woke up feeling like he had been run over by a truck but he found comfort in waking up in his four-poster bed in Hogwarts. He had no idea how long he had slept after he had gone to bed after the Battle or what had happened in the world in the meantime.

He crept out of bed and found that the rest of the dorm was empty. There was a dull ache in both his chest and his head but both were bearable so he did not pay it much attention. He stepped into his clothes, which had been cleaned.

He walked down to the common room and was glad to find Ron and Hermione there. “How long did I sleep?”

“About 20 hours I think. I only woke up two hours ago myself,” Ron replied.

“You should get that looked at,” Hermione commented, pointing at his head.

He did shower before he crept into bed so most of the blood must be gone but he assumed it was still visible. He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Most people have gone down for breakfast,” Hermione informed him.

He wasn’t sure if she had mentioned it because he should also eat or because he may not want to walk into the Great Hall when it was full of people.

“Actually, do you know where Ginny is?”

“I think she went down to the Quidditch Pitch,” Ron said.

Harry expected him to say anything else, a word of warning perhaps but Ron stayed silent. He thanked Ron and went on his way to the Pitch. He did not pay much mind to the people in the castle but most of them would not do more than stare as he walked past them.

He was surprised not to find her in the air above the remnants of the bleachers. He continued his way towards the locker rooms to see if she was there. He found her sitting on a bench in the hallway, looking at nothing in particular but she looked up when she heard his footsteps.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “I came down here to fly but … no brooms. So now I was just enjoying a quiet moment.”

Harry halted a few meters away from her. “I will leave you then.”

She shook her head and offered a weak smile. “You don’t count.”

He walked closer and sat down on the bench beside her. “How are you?”

“Been better, been worse,” she said, which summed up the bittersweet feeling of victory quite well. “How are you?”

To his surprise, his throat closed up and tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall apart, Ginny had just lost a brother and was likely feeling much worse than him but he couldn’t help it. Something about her soft caring eyes and her genuine interest in his well-being had unleashed something that had been brewing on his insides ever since the Battle ended.

Without saying a word, she turned to him and pulled him into her arms. Like months hadn’t passed, Ginny was his greatest source of comfort once again. She wasn’t trying to soothe him, she simply recognised he needed to be held for a while.

Ginny patiently waited until he could collect himself, he wiped his tears as he sat up and she let go of him.

He turned to her too, focusing back on why he came here. He pondered what to say or where to start.

“So, what’s your relationship status?” he tried a bit awkwardly.

Her eyes locked with his. “You tell me.”

“Just… if you found another guy in the meanwhile, I’d understand… You were free to date whomever and my chances of survival were next to none, really, so I wouldn’t expect-”

“I was always going to wait for you,” she said honestly.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to, any other guy I bet would have been easier.”

“Easier perhaps, but we don’t choose who we love, do we?” Her eyes were focused on him and didn’t glance away as she said it.

Harry took a deep breath. He tried a dry chuckle. “Are you sure? Because the girl I love… she’s the best. Loving her is easy.”

She shook her head with a smile. “You don’t have to charm me, Potter, you already have my heart.”

Then her lips were on his again and it felt like coming up for air, like sunsets in summer or hot chocolate in the dead of winter, she made him feel glad to be alive. He didn’t know when it happened but when they finally parted she was on his lap. His arms had wrapped around her of their own accord like she belonged there. And she did.

They looked at each other and then Ginny carefully touched her hand to his head and he winced at the sharp pain.

“I can heal that for you,” she said, taking her wand out.

“When did you learn that?” he commented.

She shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” They shared a look indicating they had a lot to talk about, but for now it did not really matter. Her hand came to his chin softly and turned it to the side so she could see properly.

“That must have bled a lot,” she said, pointing her wand at it.

Harry swallowed hard, remembering when he got the wound. He did not have the heart to tell her why he hadn’t cared to notice the bleeding. “Yeah.”

He remained still as Ginny healed it. A moment later her hand softly pressed against it and he found it hardly hurt at all. It was just sore.

“How’s that?” she asked him as he turned to look at her again.

“Much better, thank you.”

"Any other injuries?" she asked.

He grabbed his collar and glanced down his shirt to look at the new scar. "That one can't be helped I fear."

"Can I look?" she asked carefully.

He nodded and she softly pushed up his shirt. It gave him goosebumps where her fingers touched his skin.

He saw her look at the still faintly green scar and back in his eyes. "Is that where the Killing Curse hit?"

He nodded. He inhaled sharply as her palm pressed softly against it, her hands warm against his skin.

“I am glad you’re alive," she said softly, removing her hand and pulling his shirt back down.

"Me too."

He pulled her into a hug and she leaned her head on his shoulder, her nose pressing against the skin of his neck.

[ghostlyrps]

During the Battle at the Hazbin Hotel, Ghost takes part in the fight and ends up wounded. While they recover, they're badly injured and take a while to recover. The worst thing, however, is that their wing is terribly burned and almost destroyed by one of Adam's light blasts.

Officially, in any Post Ep 8 roleplay, Ghost is a disabled character. They lack the ability to fly without assistance(in the form of either a wing transplant or more likely a prosthetic, which I will discuss momentarily), they suffer a loss of balance and suffer from chronic and phantom pains.

A ramble of Ghost's wing injury under the cut!

I want to make it clear right now. As someone who is disabled, there will be no magical curing of Ghost's wing injury. The details I go into are about the two options they have and both are born out of necessity and comfort.

Ghost uses their wings for four things.

Flight. While Ghost doesn't often fly, they do fly to get around on occasion and when they need to escape a conflict. And as someone who can't keep their fucking mouth shut, this is an important thing to have.

Intimidation. Ghost's first go-to in a fight or when they feel threatened is to open their wings. This is an attempt to intimidate whatever/whoever is threatening them into backing down by looking larger. They also use their wings to hit people if necessary should they be attacked from behind. (This will come up in a different post, but Ghost's heart is actually placed in the back of their chest, behind their lungs. This makes them vulnerable to attacks from behind)

Balance. Ghost's wings are much larger than themself- part of the reason Ghost typically drapes their wings over their shoulders(which I don't usually draw because I'm lazy) is because they upper wings will drag on the ground if they don't try to hold them up somehow. Because of this, when they lose about half of their right wing it's a significant enough difference that keeping their balance becomes harder. It's easier to knock them down or for them to lose their balance, which isn't a good thing when you're in Hell and also there's a guy who wants you dead at any cost.

Comfort. Ghost doesn't just drape their wings over themself to keep them off the ground, but the weight is also comforting to them. Feeling covered by their wings is a very nice feeling and they cover themself more when they're anxious over something.

Because of all this, Ghost would have two options to resolve these issues.

A transplant. The more difficult and, to me, less likely of the two options. In real life we actually see this done on butterflies(though I haven't seen this done with moths): a butterfly with a badly damaged wing can have another butterfly's wing(usually a pinned wing). The issue would be the accessibility and difficulty. Not only would a "donor" wing need to be found(likely through violence or death), but the donor wing would need to be of similar size and perhaps shape to Ghost's wing. If this could be achieved, it'd be followed by Ghost needing all the jagged edges of their wing removed to fit the pieces together. It would be a very long process and, again, there's no guarantee someone who fits the bill could be found, or that it would even work. On the bright side, the replaced wing should be able to adapt to their much larger demon form, which is when they fly the most often. Not to mention, Ghost wouldn't want someone killed or maimed for their sake.

A prosthetic. This is... theoretically the easier option. It would take a lot of time, resources and trial and error, but at the very least Ghost might get their balance back with the added weight. It would also serve to give them the comfort of the weight and cover it provides again and make them more secure seeing as they would be able to make threat displays with their wings again. Depending on the material, it might allow flight(provided it is both lightweight and sturdy enough). This comes with its own issues, of course. Ghost would need a separate prosthetic for full demon form(and there's really no guarantee when they will or won't go into that form) and would need assistance in taking the prosthetic on and off.

Either way, I'm eager to explore this and their recovery with all of you!

[egophiliac]

(almost) four years in, and I finally had time to draw something for the anniversary! woo! 🎉🎉🎉

[princeoxca]

game night pt. 2: the return of tim

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]