#it's a history textbook so they don't really talk about thoughts and feelings if you're not a targaryen ruler

[navree]

https://at.tumblr.com/navree/does-aegon-ii-wants-to-be-king-in-the-book/vuh0fivit443

I really love your insight on Book!Aegon and he is really the most interesting and compelling green to me in the book. It's kinda sad how they turned him in the show, they wanted to humanization him at first but then they decided to ruin it all by what they did in ep8&9 . I really wanted his line "what kind of a brother...." to be in the show. Also what do you think about Criston in the book? I get the impression that he is very ambitious and had really close relationship with Egg otherwise he won't be able to convince him to take the iron throne

Thank you so much for the compliment!

I actually like a fair bit of what they've done with Aegon in the show, like his ten million different issues, I just wish they kept the Mushroom to a minimum so we'd get less weird and unnecessary shit. But I would have also liked to see some more of the book characterization (well, "characterization" we don't know whether any of this is factual or not) and I would have liked to see some more of how he was convinced to accept the crown when he was already willing to let it go to Rhaenyra, especially when in the show he's got some level of genre awareness and is terrified of what the Iron Throne is going to do to him, as well as that eventual conversation about how he needs to do it for his family. Given that we've seen Aegon being really to put it all on the line for his family in the show, the way he was willing to take the heat on Driftmark for Aemond and Alicent's sakes, it would have been some good character moment too.

Criston's a bit of a hard read in the book, since the book is mainly focused on the Targaryen histories and as such, non-Targaryens, even heavily featured ones like Criston Cole or Alys Rivers or Torrhen Stark or any of the Conquest-era Martells don't get a lot of characterization. Which I think is understandable, if I'm a fifteenth century historian writing about, like, the York Plantagenets, I'm not going to devote significant time to also telling you about the personality of Eleanor Butler or even the Duke of Buckingham, not in any significant ways. Criston's story in the book is also incredibly different than in the show; for instance, he's already been the Lord Commander for nearly ten years when Viserys dies, whereas Harrold Westerling was still alive and kicking in the show and only retired out of disgust, rather than just dying of old age. There's also the fact that a lot of time stuff was flipped around to accommodate changed ages and whatnot, along with just Criston having been given a lot more character to work with; things like his Dornish hereitage, his commoner's backstory, his religious leanings, those are all show originals, none of that is mentioned in the book.

Criston doesn't seem to have been personally ambitious, not in any way that would have been remarked upon, but determined to advance the cause of the Greens and ambitious for them. Like in the show, Criston has a falling out with Rhaenyra (the circumstances in the book are murky) and then later becomes Alicent's sworn shield after the death of Joffrey Lonmouth, though in the book he's probably more profoundly grateful to her and tied to her because the death was actually an accident, and Alicent was the only one who seemed to point out that this is the risk people take when they enter tourneys and that Criston shouldn't be punished just for having won and just because Joffrey decided to ignore that risk. He's a much more personally loyal man to Alicent than his show counterpart, which is saying something because show!Criston is like.......extremely loyal to Alicent, I watched episode 9. He also seems to have filled a mentor type of role to her kids, though less overtly fatherly than in the show, given that Viserys was something of a present father in the book (leagues more than he was in the show) and just the fact that he just became attached to Alicent later in their lives than he did. But he was still close to them, the book makes a note of the special attention he paid to Aemond and how he helped him become a swordsman after he lost his eye, even before he was Lord Commander, and as you said, he was able to both figure out where Aegon was after Viserys died and lighted on the right way to convince him to take the crown. It does speak to at least knowing what kind of person Aegon was and what he valued enough to go against his initial ideals. Aegon also names Criston his hand, and Criston is trusted enough to be a major battle leader and also spend significant time with Aemond during his regency.

Criston in the book comes off as less of an intrinsically nice person and less good intentioned and proto-Jaime than he does in the show (I've discussed what I think of show Criston as a show character here); he seems snider and more motivated by spite and just wanting to win against people he dislikes than anything else, but there's still a nobility in him and a goodness in how he treats his fellow man (not just his apparent affection for Alicent's children even in the book, but also surrounding the circumstances of his death and how it happened, which I talked about here). Ultimately, I agree with Jaime that Criston Cole embodied the best and the worst of the Kingsguard: steadfast and loyal and uncompromising in the face of duty, unquestioning in the orders given and unflinching and determined in his role as protector and guardian and fighter; but also capable of subsuming his entire identity to those he serves even at the potential destruction of the realm, vicious not just on the battlefield but off of it (given the personal dimension to his issues with Rhaenyra influencing his role in crowning Aegon), and how ultimately his duty as Alicent's shield and supporting her put him on the path to being the Kingmaker and using positions intrinsic to the Kinsguard, like the Lord Commander being on the Small Council, to influence events and politics when he shouldn't have done so. Very different from his show character, but I don't think less interesting or less worthy of interest and further analysis.

[transmutationisms]

hello! im just finishing up my read of structures of scientific revolutions, which has genuinely been very useful and shifted my understanding of science in a way being around people doing scientific research all day really didn't! i don't have a liberal arts education so i would love to get a sense of (a) what else of the philosophy / history of science canon is worth reading in the original (b) standard review papers or introductory textbooks and (c) critiques of the canon. i understand this is a big ask ofc, so feel free to point me to good depts / syllabi from good courses. thanks :)

yessss such a fun question >:) so, the thing that was so great about 'the structure of scientific revolutions', which i'm sure you've picked up on, is that kuhn pushed historians and philosophers of science to challenge the positivist model of science as a linearly progressive search to 'accumulate knowledge'. the idea of a 'paradigm shift' was itself a paradigm shift at the time; it was an early example of a language for talking about radical change in science without giving into the assumption that change necessarily = 'progress' (defined by national interests, mathematisation, and so forth). this is still an approach that's foundational to history and philosophy of science; it's now taken as so axiomatic that few academics even bother to gloss or defend it in monographs (which raises its own issue with public communication, lol).

where kuhn falls apart more (and this was typical for a philosopher of his era, training, and academic milieu) is in the fact that he never developed any kind of rigorous sociological analysis of science (despite alluding to such a thing being necessary) and you probably also noticed that he makes a few major leaps that indicate he's not fully committed to thinking through the relationship between science and politics. so for example, we might ask, can a paradigm shift ever occur for a reason other than a discovered 'anomaly' that the previous paradigm can't account for? for instance, how do political investments in science and scientific theories affect what's accepted as 'normal science' in a kuhnian sense? are there historical or present cases where a paradigm didn't change even though it persistently failed to explain certain empirical observations or data? what about the opposite, where a paradigm did change, but it wasn't necessarily or exclusively because the new paradigm was a 'better' explanation scientifically? how do we determine what makes an explanation 'better', anyway, especially given that kuhn himself was very much invested in moving beyond the naïve realist position? and on the more sociological side, we can raise issues like: say you're a scientist and you legitimately have discovered an 'anomaly'. how do you communicate that to other scientists? what mechanisms of knowledge production and publication enable you to circulate that information and to be taken seriously? what modes of communication must you use and what credentials or interpersonal connections must you have? what factors cause theories and discoveries to be taken more or less seriously, or adopted more or less quickly, besides just their 'scientific utility' (again, assuming we can even define such a thing)?

again, this is not to shit on kuhn, but to point out that both history and philosophy of science have had a lot of avenues to explore since his work. note that there are a few major disciplinary distinctions here, each with many sub-schools of thought. a 'science and technology studies' or STS program tends to be a mix of sociological and philosophical analysis of science, often with an emphasis on 'technoscience' and much less on historical analysis. a philosophy of science department will be anchored more firmly in the philosophical approach, so you'll find a lot of methodological critique, and a lot of scholarship that seeks to tackle current aporias in science using various philosophical frameworks. a history of science program is fundamentally just a sub-discipline of history, and scholarship in this area asks about the development of science over time, how various forms of thinking came into and out of favour, and so forth. often a department will do both history and philosophy of science (HPS). historians of medicine, technology, and mathematics will sometimes (for arcane scholastic reasons varying by field, training, and country) be anchored in departments of medicine / technology / mathematics, rather than with other faculty of histsci / HPS. but, increasingly in the anglosphere you'll see departments that cover history of science, technology, and mathematics (HSTM) together. obviously, all of these distinctions say more about professional qualifications and university bureaucracy than they do about the actual subject matter; in actuality, a good history of science should virtually always include attention to some philosophical and sociological dimensions, and vice versa.

anyway—reading recs:

there are two general reference texts i would recommend here if you just want to get some compilations of major / 'canonical' works in this field. both are edited volumes, so you can skip around in them as much as you want. both are also very limited in focus to, again, a very particular 'western canon' defined largely by trends in anglo academia over the past half-century or so.

philosophy of science: the central issues (1998 [2013], ed. martin curd & j. a. cover). this is an anthology of older readings in philsci. it's a good introduction to many of the methodological questions and problems that the field has grown around; most of these readings have little to no historical grounding and aren't pretending otherwise.

the cambridge history of science (8 vols., 2008–2020, gen. eds. david c. lindberg & ron numbers). no one reads this entire set because it's long as shit. however, each volume has its own temporal / topical focus, and the essays function as a crash-course in historical methodology in addition to whatever value you derive from the case studies in their own right. i like these vols much more than the curd & cover, but if you really want to dig into the philosophical issues and not the histories, curd & cover might be more fun.

besides those, here are some readings in histsci / philsci that i'd recommend if you're interested. for consistency i ordered these by publication date, but bolded a few i would recommend as actual starting points lol. again some of these focus on specific historical cases, but are also useful imo methodologically, regardless of how much you care about the specific topic being discussed.

Robert M. Young. 1969. "Malthus and the Evolutionists: The Common Context of Biological and Social Theory." Past & Present 43: 109–145.

David Bloor. 1976 [1991]. Knowledge and Social Imagery. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (here is a really useful extract that covers the main points of this text).

Ian Hacking. 1983. Representing and Intervening: Introductory Topics in the Philosophy of Natural Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Steven Shapin. 1988. “Understanding the Merton Thesis.” Isis 79 (4): 594–605.

Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer. 1989. Leviathan and the Air-Pump: Hobbes, Boyle, and the Experimental Life. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Mario Biagioli. 1993. Galileo, Courtier: The Practice of Science in the Culture of Absolutism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Bruno Latour. 1993. The Pasteurization of France. Translated by Alan Sheridan and John Law. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Margaret W. Rossiter. 1993. “The Matthew Matilda Effect in Science.” Social Studies of Science 23 (2): 325–41.

Andrew Pickering. 1995. The Mangle of Practice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Porter, Theodore M. Trust in Numbers: The Pursuit of Objectivity in Science and Public Life. Princeton University Press, 1996.

Peter Galison. 1997. “Trading Zone: Coordinating Action and Belief.” In The Science Studies Reader, edited by Mario Biagioli, 137–60. New York: Routledge.

Crosbie Smith. 1998. The Science of Energy: A Cultural History of Energy Physics in Victorian Britain. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Chambers, David Wade, and Richard Gillespie. “Locality in the History of Science: Colonial Science, Technoscience, and Indigenous Knowledge.” Osiris 15 (2000): 221–40.

Kuriyama, Shigehisa. The Expressiveness of the Body and the Divergence of Greek and Chinese Medicine. Zone Books, 2002.

Timothy Mitchell. 2002. Rule of Experts: Egypt, Techno-Politics, Modernity. Berkeley: University of California Press.

James A. Secord. 2003. Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.

Sheila Jasanoff. 2006. “Biotechnology and Empire: The Global Power of Seeds and Science.” Osiris 21 (1): 273–92.

Murphy, Michelle. Sick Building Syndrome and the Problem of Uncertainty: Environmental Politics, Technoscience, and Women Workers. Duke University Press, 2006.

Kapil Raj. 2007. Relocating Modern Science: Circulation and the Construction of Knowledge in South Asia and Europe, 1650–1900. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Schiebinger, Londa L. Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World. Harvard University Press, 2007.

Galison, Peter. “Ten Problems in History and Philosophy of Science.” Isis 99, no. 1 (2008): 111–24.

Daston, Lorraine, and Peter Galison. Objectivity. Zone Books, 2010.

Dipesh Chakrabarty. 2011. “The Muddle of Modernity.” American Historical Review 116 (3): 663–75.

Forman, Paul. “On the Historical Forms of Knowledge Production and Curation: Modernity Entailed Disciplinarity, Postmodernity Entails Antidisciplinarity.” Osiris 27, no. 1 (2012): 56–97.

Ashworth, William J. 2014. "The British Industrial Revolution and the the Ideological Revolution: Science, Neoliberalism, and History." History of Science 52 (2): 178–199.

Mavhunga, Clapperton. 2014. Transient Workspaces: Technologies of Everyday Innovation in Zimbabwe. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Lynn Nyhart. 2016. “Historiography of the History of Science.” In A Companion to the History of Science, edited by Bernard Lightman, 7–22. Chichester, UK: Wiley Blackwell.

Rana Hogarth. 2017. Medicalizing Blackness: Making Racial Difference in the Atlantic World, 1780–1840. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

Suman Seth. 2018. Difference and Disease: Medicine, Race, and the Eighteenth-Century British Empire. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Aro Velmet. 2020. Pasteur's Empire: Bacteriology and Politics in France, its Colonies, and the World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

i would also say, as a general rule, these books are generally all so well-known that there are very good book reviews and review essays on them, which you can find through jstor / your library's database. these can be invaluable both because your reading list would otherwise just mushroom out forever, and because a good review can help you decide whether you even need / want to sit down with the book itself in the first place. literally zero shame in reading an academic text secondhand via reviews.

[leiflitter]

this is the first time i’ve ever written a tumblr ask and i’m doing it bc i just love your writing so so much!! if you don’t mind, i’d like to ask for your two cents on how the story (saltburn and yah) would go if oliver was ftm?

i just wanted to say thank you, that i really like how you do characterisation and where you’re taking the story. <3

Hmm so in like... context? With it being 2007- I think a good (although not exactly bang on in terms of time) person to look at would be Jammidodger/Jamie Raines?

Ollie would probably be presenting as masc as possible but probably have little/no actual resources due to Section 28 and the internet being in its infancy. So probs still using she/her, although it feels wrong.

Felix would probably have thought Ollie was, y'know, one of those "rugby lesbians" or similar, just nerdy. If they became friends, then it'd have been a lot of-

"Ollie's basically just one of the lads though."

"I don't even see Olls as, like, a GIRL. She's not GIRLY."

"Haha Olls you're practically a bloke"

Which y'know

Gender euphoria but also BIG FEELINGS. Maybe Ollie finds a psych textbook in the library one day, or is going through some history thing and finds out about the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or finds a short story about someone who's trans and has that Oh No Moment.

"Felix, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, Olls, what's up, mate?"

"I... I think... I think I'm a man."

"But Olls, you've got a..."

"Can you just read this?"

Felix, for his part, would probably be chill about it. He probably wouldn't fully GET IT, but Ollie is Ollie and his mum HAS to know SOMEONE... so he invites Ollie to Saltburn for the summer.

For YAH- so it would have to assume The Madness Happens, vs just Rich Family Help Trans Teen, because Ollie wouldn't have to lie to be interesting if he was transitioning in 2007. That would honestly be a real novelty, but maybe it starts feeling ghoulish and isolating. "This is Ollie, SHE is becoming a HE" and all that.

Oliver would absolutely be living under the radar, full bottom surgery DONE, still with the latent fear (especially because of how shit the UK is being towards trans folks) and Felix reappears and probably immediately goes "Oliviaaaaaar. Oliver. Hi."

[fallen-stark]

hi hi! i used to sh when i was in middle school and highschool and can you maybe write a hurt comfort for when eddie knew reader used to sh and finds out they been doing it again when he grabs their arm and he can see the look of pain on their face.

they end up having a small fight and they're both crying and he ends up kissing her scars </3

i'm so happy you're here. i hope i did you justice. please enjoy and let me know what you think. <3

WARNINGS:

self-harm. do not be afraid to reach out to me, or someone you trust, if you are thinking of self-inflicting. someone loves you. i love you. you are worthy. you are amazing.

you let out a light sigh of relief as the blade ran across your arm. a tear escaping your eye. it hurt. but it was a good kind of pain, a pain that made you feel.

you felt your anger and frustrations leave your body as you saw the red leave your body. the stream slowly making its way down your hand as it dripped ever so lightly onto the bathroom tile.

this is the last time.

you would tell yourself. yet it never really was.

the next day, you wore a long sleeve shirt to hide your wound. you had gone all day being extra careful as you felt guilty about your secret. you sat at the lunch table with eddie to your right and mike wheeler on your left.

they were talking about their next campaign, something you weren't really paying attention to. you sighed as you remembered you left your physics textbook in eddie's van.

"hey, eds," you tapped his hand when there was a moment where he wasn't talking.

"what's up, sweets?"

"can i get your keys? i forgot my physics book."

"yes, of course," he nodded while he handed you his keys.

you stood up from your seat, walking away from the table.

"oh, wait, y/n-"

suddenly your arm was being grabbed before you could leave the table. you let out a small nnf as it had been the arm you had wounded last night. you bit your lip and turned to face your boyfriend.

"can you grab my history book?" he asked as his eyebrow raised at your reaction to his touch.

"yes, of course."

and before he could say anything else, you were out the doors of the cafeteria. once alone, you leaned against a wall, pulling your shirt up.

your fresh wound had a river of red coming from it as it had been reopened.

"y/n?"

fuck.

you quickly covered the cut as you turned around, arms behind your back. your eyes met his own. your heart raced as he stepped closer to you.

"what are you doing?"

"nothing, i just-"

"let me see."

"eds, let you see what?" you tried laughing off his question.

"y/n. let me see," he stated firmly.

you swallowed before biting your lip, your throat feeling tight.

"i don't know what you're talking about, eddie."

he knew.

suddenly your arm was pulled from your back as he pulled your sleeve down being careful to hold your hand and not your actual arm that he noticed hurt from earlier, he scoffed.

"i thought you said you were done."

"i am- i just-"

"no," eddie shook his head, his eyes glossing over.

he was frustrated, hurt. you promised him. you promised him that you wouldn't do it again. the last time you harmed yourself, you were sent to the er. it had gone too far.

he couldn't lose you. he was so scared the first time.

you promised him that night that you were done.

and you had lied to him.

"you lied to me," eddie said as he dropped your hand.

"eddie, i am done. i am," you said, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. he shook his head, he didn't believe you. he took his keys from your other hand and started walking to his car.

"eddie, please wait!" you called out to him but he just kept walking.

"eds, please."

he stopped, a few steps away from his van as he turned to you. he had a few tears that ran down his cheeks as he looked at you, the love of his life.

"eds-"

he shook his head as you stopped a foot away from him.

"love, please," you said as you put your hand on his cheek.

"you promised me, y/n. you promised me," he sniffed.

"i know, i know i did. i'm sorry," you whispered as you closed the space between you both.

you held eddie closely. you couldn't lose him and he couldn't lose you.

"i can't lose you. i can't sit there waiting for you to wake up again. i- i just can't," he said with a crack in his voice, tears falling freely from his eyes.

he didn't understand what was so bad that you resulted in going back to harming yourself. was it him? why didn't he see the signs? he could've stopped it.

"i-"

you took in a deep breath as the tears flowed down your face, dropping from your chin to your shirt.

"i'm sorry, eddie, and i- i know that's not enough but i am," you pulled away from him to look into his eyes.

"i regretted it as soon as it was all over. i knew it would hurt you and- and that's why i tried to hide it all day because, well, because i didn't want to let you down," you sighed as you held his hands in yours.

eddie stared at you. a small sniff escaped as you waited for him to answer.

"i want to get better, i do. i just have these days- and they're so hard- and this time i just..." you trailed off, looking at the ground.

you didn't know the exact reason you did it. you just felt so much frustration and anger so you did what you fell into the habit of doing long ago.

"bad habits die hard, i guess," you giggled lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"can i see them?" he asked finally, after a couple seconds of silence.

you bit your lip and nodded. pulling the sleeve of your shirt up, you held out your exposed wounds to him.

he did what you never thought anyone would do.

with a gentle touch, he bent his head down and left a small kiss on the fresh wound. your eyes teared up as he left another small kiss on a more healed but very visible scar.

eddie looked at you, his thumb rubbing soft circles onto your arm.

"we'll do it together. you let me know when it's a bad day, okay?"

with a simple nod, you said "okay."

eddie cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.

"my beautiful girl, i am so thankful you're here."

[thenamesblurrito]

I’m not sure if this has already been touched on, but I noticed that blackarachnia/blurr/predaking is listed as an Amica pairing, and was curious about it? Like is it a post canon thing or something that happens before their identities are revealed :] and basically what their relationship dynamic is like

you're right i did list them and yet i've BARELY talked about them AUGH i haven't decided everything exactly, there's more i want to work in but don't know when/how, but this is most of it. they're so important to me... i've sort of infodumped. everything here. um. long post, including post canon spoilers

(friendly reminder that this AU uses Amica Endurae as platonic life partners/spouses, just as culturally significant and legally recognized as romantic Conjunx Endurae)

Predaking and Blackarachnia happen to be roommates (along with notable problem-causer Deadlock) and end up clicking pretty well. Blackarachnia's biting sarcasm and droll defensive wit plays well with Predaking's stubborn independence and thoughtful deliberation. more importantly, Predaking is, down to his core, a protector, and subconsciously took on the role of being stalwart for Blackarachnia when she clearly has some uhhhhh not great family history that's given her baggage. the two of them are the edgy, aloof kids that stand in the corner, arms crossed, visibly judging everyone else in the room together while trading muttered comments about how stupid the adults' arbitrary rules are, and their weaponized back-and-forth has been known to make would-be bullies cry. they settle into a friendship pretty easily and make a great homework team.

enter Blurr, local dweeb, nerd, dork, or whatever assortment of other insults springs to mind. i wouldn't say he's quite a magnet for bullies, but he gets picked on more than his fair share, either for his stutter or his intelligence, depending on who's targeting him. it's not good, obviously, but he brushes this off easily most of the time unless cornered. so when Sentinel, irritated that the skinny little off-planet racer is skimming through textbooks in the library in half the time it's taking himself, starts mocking Blurr with the most cliche and boring bullying possible (calling him four-optics because of his glasses), Blurr just rolls his eyes and doesn't stop reading.

a voice from the back of the study area drawls, shouldn't you be saying that to me?

this is, of course, Predaking, looking at Sentinel with the most unimpressed expression and gesturing to his actual four optics: two in his face, two in the beast head currently on his chest. sitting next to him, Blackarachnia doesn't even look up from her work with any of her four facial optics or eight beast optics as she says, acidly, don't let him get a look at me, i'm not sure he can even count to twelve.

Sentinel, having been verbally eviscerated by these two before, multiple times (he's bad about learning his lesson), sputters and glares and ultimately leaves. Blurr blinks at his retreating back, then at the two who have gone back to their own homework with no further comment, and goes. Huh.

it's not so much an introduction as it is just a quiet, spontaneous moment of solidarity. and it sort of keeps happening, little instances around school. Blurr will hand Blackarachnia her dropped stylus when it rolls over to his table, Predaking will sit a table down from him and glare at an idiot being mean, they'll comment constructively on each other's projects in class, the three of them pass in the hall and sort of do that wordless chin-raise acknowledgement at one another. Blurr is pretty sure they don't know his name, and don't care enough to find out. it's that weird threshold of not-quite-acquaintance but still friendly, not-quite-stranger but i really don't know you. and yet. it's like an unspoken routine. it feels like having allies.

when given the choice to take up relics, Predaking and Blackarachnia go into it together, knowing exactly what kind of risks they're taking, but knowing each other and their priorities well enough to realize that they both want to defend themselves and other hurting people with more than just the witticisms of an angry teenager. they're very good at teamwork and slide right into cooperating with Sixshot very well too. and, extremely importantly, Predaking knows Blackarachnia well enough to spot that her behavior is, um, getting concerning as Airachnid. there's something different about her when she's powered up, and it might not be her calling the shots all the time.

Blurr's talent for snooping gets him the opportunity to take up a relic himself, and it's an extremely disorienting experience at first. he's never been a beastformer, he's not even from a planet that produces beastformers, and it's a whole new host of senses and feelings to deal with! and while he's a staunch Autobot who pretty immediately steps up to be Abominus's default battlefield rival, he has no real enmity for the Predacons and targets him mostly because he knows he's fast enough to mitigate any damage. in fact the two are pretty cordial to one another, that is when Cheetor isn't taking advantage of physics to send Abominus careening several blocks with transferred momentum. so when he discovers he can speak with mechanimals, it's both confusing and exciting, and naturally he wants to ask the only other beastformer heroes around about this. he doesn't know this is something of an offensive stereotype and is chewed out pretty soundly by them, shocked and angered that a fellow beastformer would so pettily play into framist nonsense.

that, he realizes, is something he sorely needs to be educated on. so while as Cheetor he shuts up about speaking to mechanimals and takes a new, delicate, sensitive approach to the media and general publicity where it concerns his frametype, Blurr starts doing research about beastformer experiences in a way he couldn't have learned back home on Velocitron. and perhaps, just maybe, he could screw up his courage to ask his fellow students? one of the first real conversations he has with Blackarachnia and Predaking is one day asking them haltingly, anxiously, if they could clarify something in this article about beastformer statistics he's reading, or if that would be offensive to assume they'd be willing to talk about it just because of their frametype.

it's a gradual acquaintance, one Predaking still latches on to quickly with that same protector's instinct as soon as he realizes how painfully earnest Blurr is. Blackarachnia is kind of amused by the way he nervously self-edits over and over to not say anything wrong, but still calls him out on overcorrecting from ignorance to hyperawareness. she's a person, not a checklist of morally correct conversation choices, at least treat her with the basic decency to act like it. just being around them is extremely valuable to Blurr, but he gets so caught up cataloguing the experience as learning how to not reinforce bad stereotypes as Cheetor that he sort of misses the fact that Predaking and Blackarachnia have come to think of him as something of a friend instead of their local curious nuisance. they notice when he's gone, when he's tired or preoccupied, when he's grappling with something that he never explains. clearly, they think, he's skittish, but could be coaxed over time.

they don't just pass each other in the hall anymore. Blurr asks them nervously if they're alright after the Shockblast debacle. Blackarachnia beelines to safety speaking with Blurr instead of engaging with Tarantulas when he stops by for a visit. Predaking gives his condolences to Blurr when he hears that strange shattered universe had left behind the corpse of a bot who might be his counterpart (Blurr doesn't tell him he killed his doppelganger with his bare hands. he's dealing with it, okay?) at the same time, Cheetor is noticeably more cautious when speaking to the media, subtly steering away from framist assumptions, vocally speaking up about beastformer equity. Abominus doesn't necessarily agree with the Autobots, but he at least feels like one of them is listening. Airachnid spends more and more time ignoring some suspicious changes that occur when she powers up.

and then Airachnid murders someone.

it wasn't premeditated. probably. she dreamed about it for years. they had it coming. no one would believe her. it's sickening. it's liberating. she didn't want to do it. Blackarachnia didn't want to do it. something else decided otherwise.

it's bad. bad enough she doesn't even tell Predaking, her best friend now, instead electing to find a quiet corner somewhere and fall apart. alone. this doesn't quite work out since ever-curious Blurr comes sleuthing into her spot, of course startled and concerned and asking if she's okay, and Blackarachnia snaps at him quite meanly. even so, somehow she still thinks of Blurr as safe enough for her to cry to. she's been emotionally fending for herself for so long, is it wrong to be weak?? to want to be taken care of instead of doing the dirty work herself?? and Blurr, sweet overwhelmed Blurr, does his best to be comforting, but says she should probably be having this conversation with someone she trusts. it's unexpectedly exactly the kind of respect for boundaries that Blackarachnia needs to go tell Predaking everything.

as heroes, the factions are starting to be less standoffish, working (slightly) better with one another when needed. on one of these occasions, Cheetor gets a few tidbits of vital information from, of all sources, a handful of scraplets. try as he might to speak to them surreptitiously, Abominus and Airachnid notice, and are dumbfounded to see he wasn't lying. it's one more small cross-faction bridge of trust.

while things might be improving interpersonally, everything else is worsening near the end of season 4. after a horrific and terrifying event that makes it unsafe for them to be in hero form, the factions retreat, gathering amongst themselves as kids, some meeting without the masks of their relics for the first time. poor Blurr, always the one to feel inferior and alone, has already figured out who most of the other Autobots are as kids, but somehow can't bear to reveal his own identity to them. standing among heroes, not as Cheetor but just as himself? he runs before they even turn to ask him. this time, it's Blurr having a breakdown in a quiet corner and Blackarachnia who finds him. she's not exactly a nice person, but she can still repay the favor and comfort him when he needs it.

in the middle of [finale spoilers] when everyone's identities are revealed to everyone, the only thing keeping everybody working together is an impending apocalypse. in the middle of so many revelations and personalities and high emotions, Predaking and Blackarachnia are actually doing pretty okay. they're unfazed by the surrounding drama and already solidly work well together outside of hero form. so when Blurr, almost cringing away from everyone else in a poor attempt to hide, nervously tries speaking up about something he's figured out, Predaking is the first to notice and step in to support his ideas. there's not exactly a lot of time to talk during the end of the world, but they come to an understanding. it feels like having allies again, except tangible and backed up with skill and force. there's steady certainty there in the midst of so much chaos.

it doesn't get super deep or "official relationship" in SNAP itself, mostly because their high school years aren't actually the most important period of their relationship. but it sets up an extremely important foundation for them that continues post-SNAP. Blurr still gets anxious and skittish and feels like he can't say anything right, what is he doing here he should just slink away and hide—but Predaking picks him up by the scruff of the neck and shakes some sense and affection back into him. Blackarachnia struggles with depression and self hatred for a long time, but Predaking and Blurr staunchly refuse to leave her lonely, sticking with her even in her dark times. there are times when Predaking prioritizes doing work over developing relationships, thinking that his work will of course help those he loves, but Blurr and Blackarachnia don't let him get away with it. not to mention how devastatingly effective the three of them are at Judging anyone trying to be an idiot in their vicinity, lots of would-be Karens get shut down by nothing more than their triplicate unimpressed glares .

of the three of them, Predaking is the one who first and most easily thinks of the other two as his partners, even if he doesn't say it out loud. he doesn't want to scare Blurr off, nor put pressure on Blackarachnia when she can barely stand herself, but he knows what he wants. he is quietly and enduringly devoted to them. Blackarachnia has felt like she's had to be strong, be clever, be quick and defensive and biting for herself her whole life, and yet these two consistently do that for her. she feels safe to be weak around them, and she knows she's taken care of. anxious Blurr still feels kind of like an outsider sometimes, an imposter third wheel on their already solid partnership, but then Predaking will wordlessly shuffle over to invite him to sit, or Blackarachnia will drop a snack in his lap exactly as he's getting hungry, or the two of them will be discussing something and automatically turn to ask his opinion. he doesn't need to be invited in to a relationship he's already part of.

as is pretty typical for him honestly, Predaking says something first, and does so by (as is also pretty typical) jumping right in with no warmup. it's during a conversation they've had many times over, an exercise in hope Rung recommended they try to help Blackarachnia. instead of letting her sit in the dark alone and spiraling, Predaking and Blurr sit with her, speaking aloud a good future, practice for envisioning a world that isn't under fire and themselves happy, healthy, and safe. Predaking's imagined futures have never not included them. with Blurr curled up in one of his wings and an arm over Blackarachnia's shoulders, he muses about a nice simple job rebuilding shelled cities, surely raising roofs only takes a little practice. he wants to see the sunrise over his hometown Helex again, with his favorite den siblings there. of course he'd take Blurr and Blackarachnia along, it wouldn't be right without the people he would have as his Amicae. Blackarachnia scoffs, but her spark isn't in it. Blurr freezes, anxiety already trying to convince him that he wasn't included in that statement. but Predaking just keeps talking, gently stitching together a future where they're okay.

on a practical level this is more of a proposal than simply asking them out, but it's also low pressure. nothing needs to change until they're all comfortable with it. they're already life partners in many ways, it's easy to slip a little further into it once acknowledged. the day Blurr's feeling of exclusion ends for good is when Blackarachnia casually muses about opening a clinic on Velocitron so the three of them can have a home on Blurr's planet, and he's struck by how she's doing good enough to plan for the future again, specifically a future where they even leave Cybertron to follow him.

their marriage is quiet. Blurr squares away the paperwork, double checking every detail is correct with Minimus. they let their friends take them out to a nice dinner in lieu of any ceremony, where Arcee generously only tries stabbing Blackarachnia once before giving her congratulations. Frenzy tries arranging a gag honeymoon trip for them but is too drunk to do it right and accidentally books himself a week at the spa instead. Hot Rod brings fireworks, which would have been a nice touch if he'd known he was coming to a wedding, but really he just wanted a party where he'd have the opportunity to set off colorful explosions around large numbers of people. Wheelie may have picked the pockets of everyone in attendance but he refuses to admit it. Skywarp and Predaking are the last ones who haven't swanned off or fallen asleep and in their exhausted drunken camaraderie, when bad ideas seem just brilliant, they end up going on a time travel heist to get Predaking some sick tattoos (and they're lucky it goes off without a hitch).

it's an absolutely perfect wedding.

it's not a flawless happily ever after, of course. Predaking grapples with being the only survivor of dozens of tragedies. Blackarachnia is permanently changed by a monster, and struggles with alcoholism for a long time. Blurr is personally targeted by a terrifying creature with a grudge and enough wit to outsmart him, in a rivalry that would cost many more lives than just his own. it's hard, and they live in dark times. but they support one another through thick and thin. after awhile, when they're more stable, they actually end up adopting Dragonicus, a little dragonformer like Predaking, and then later Lightspeed, a tiny thing almost as fast as Blurr.

they live. they love each other. they're good.

[thedawningofthehour]

Hiii! I feel a little late to the chapter 32 party but I just finished it. I made a short list (there’s so much more I could’ve put in it) of some of my favorite things from the new chapter:

1- I love how in character everything feels! I don’t have a direct quote but I have the scene where Leo just got back to the lair and the narration brought up how he just pressed the key on the keyboard and spun around just to be cool. I know that might be obvious but it really stood out to me and it hit my funny bone in the right way.

2- I really enjoyed reading about Obscurial-Swann syndrome. It’s a random like but I found it really interesting. 2.1- Also, the side note of Draxum not knowing how to delete his browsing history was hilariously accurate. He feels like the kinda guy who wouldn’t know anything about googling and using the internet because he used encyclopedias and textbooks for everything.

3- This is something we can all agree on but I really enjoy reading the conversations between Gale and Tigerclaw. You really stepped into the murder uncle role for this chapter. The honesty and care and familial love is incredible. I just love their relationship so much.

lastly I did have a question, sorry if this has already been asked before. How do you think Gale will feel about Hungin, Mungin, Cass, and Tigerclaw once he becomes Donnie again? I don’t think he would really harbor that much ill will against them because they were all so nice and genuinely cared for him (as well as the fact the cass is under the hypnosis as well, if i’m remembering correctly). Thank you so much for all your hard work. Remember to take breaks, drink water and eat full meals!!!! <3

Bro the chapter's been out for 36 hours. You're not late for anything.

Seriously, I would very much prefer people take it at their own pace and talk to me when they get to it. It's honestly really disheartening when I put a bunch of work into a chapter, get five comments on it the first day, and then radio silence until I put the next one out. And besides, this was a long chapter. I figured it would take most people a little bit to get through. (plus a lot of readers are high school/college students-I released it on a schoolday, and y'all got homework)

LEO IS JUST SILLY THAT WAY. For real, writing little actions and stuff like that is real useful for breaking up dialogue, but then I have to, like, figure out what they're actually doing while talking. It's actually harder to do with Leo's sections that Gale's, because Galois is always using various tools and doing crazy shit that literally no one other than him would understand nor expect to understand, so I can mix shit up and keep it completely vague and it's still on-brand for him. Leo-what the fuck does Leo even do? Half the time I just have him On The Computer, like how Ken's job is Beach. What's he doing on there? I dunno! I just didn't feel like even pretending to make up a reason for him being on there and I don't think he did either. I think he legit said he was going to go upstairs and Look For Donnie on his laptop and gave no thought as to how the laptop helped accomplish that. He just pulls out his computer and clackety-clacks away because it makes him look productive.

Yeah, I do try to keep out the Harry Potter references, because fuck JKR, but in the same vein you're never going to undo the effect HP had on popular culture. HP stuff is pretty much universally recognizable and sometimes it's either use HP references or go something more obscure-and in a case like this, where I'm describing a made-up condition that I don't even define in the story, it could be very confusing if the audience doesn't make the connection. (also the other half is a Twilight reference, so it's doubly cursed)

Oh, and if you noticed, it's spelled differently for both Gale and Tigerclaw, because Tigerclaw is pronouncing it wrong. :D

Draxum probably doesn't even fucking know what a browsing history is, let's be real. It's a good thing he's gotten really into this dad roleplay thing and hasn't Googled anything about mind control or how to deal with your kidnapped son's estranged brothers.

Huginn and Muninn, hmm, I'll have to think about that. I haven't really thought about them in the epilogue, to be honest, they kind of just flit in and out of the story when convenient. I can't see him blaming Cass, she's as much a victim as he is. Tigerclaw-I mean, to be fair to Tigerclaw, he's operating on limited information. Draxum told him that Galois is his son. Why should he doubt that?

[queers-gambit]

HAPPY LATE OR MAYBE NOT LATE B-DAY!! Also could I req a Max Mayfield “everything reminds me of you, and it makes life so much harder. I don’t know where to look, or where to turn.”+ “don’t forget, history is written by the victors. dead men tell no tales.” + “holy shit! you’re flirting with me!?” Thank you!! - N

THANK YOU MY SWEET ANGEL!!! of course you can!! oof, the angst is real with these prompts! it's the way these dialogue prompts made me think 🥴 wonky brain go wonky!!

In This World, It's Just Us

requested - prompt 95: "holy shit! you're flirting with me!?" prompt 102: "everything reminds me of you, and it makes life so much harder. I don't know where to look, or where to turn." and prompt 103: "don't forget, history is written by the victors. dead men tell no tales."

pairing: Max Mayfield x female!reader fandom masterlist: Stranger Things word count: 1.3k+ warnings: no idea anymore. angst. mild internalized homophobia - it was the '80s, my dudes. my babies deserve better - sigh.

"Hey, what did you get for number 14? I was thinking the Revolutionary War, but now I'm not sure," you mumbled as your pencil scribbled notes and marks on paper.

A sigh came from your left, making you look up to see Max' uneasy expression. When her eyes caught yours, she sighed again and pushed her textbook away, "Can I ask you something?"

Closing your book, you nodded, "Anything that keeps me from thinking of this stupid war. What's on your mind?"

She shrugged, "Well... Look, I know it's not something people want to talk about a lot."

"Doesn't stop us from doing it anyways," you nodded, twirling your pencil between deft fingers. "Go on, Max, what's on your mind?"

She huffed, glancing around the pair of you before leaning in, "It could get us in trouble."

"More trouble than the government would put us in if we talked about You Know Where?" Your brow perked with a small smirk, cocking your head in wonder. "What's so bad that it's got you all tongue tied, babe?"

"THAT!" She yelped, cheeks blooming a wild blush color as her eyes bulged and she looked around the two at the single table in the back of the library. A few patrons casted them strange looks, making Max duck some as she repeated, "That."

"What?" You asked, shaking your head with earnest confusion.

"You - calling me names that - I don't know - "

"Oh," you trailed off, eyes wide. "You don't - you don't like me calling you nicknames?"

"No, I-I do, but it's - isn't it wrong?"

You shrugged some because truthfully, after having a long, in-depth conversation with Robin a few weeks ago, you didn't feel wrong anymore for who you were, what you liked - and who you chose to love, and maybe spend your life with. You felt more in-place than ever before, but perhaps you were too forward in your advancements?

Perhaps it made her feel uneasy? You didn't want that - you prided yourself on being Max' first (and possibly only) girlfriend besides Eleven in Hawkins. And the three of you were joined at the hips, marking a well-loved friendship that you valued too greatly to ever let suffer or jeopardize it's status.

"Doesn't feel wrong to me," you admitted, sheepishly glancing at your notes again. "But if you don't like it, I don't have to use them. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"That's the thing," she turned in her chair more, facing you with earnest attention. "I don't want you to stop."

"You don't want me to stop flirting with you?"

"Holy shit!" Max breathed, eyes wider than before. "You're flirting with me!?"

"Well, yeah, duh!" You scrambled to check your emotions; eyes darting around the nearly-empty library. "I thought you knew - I thought it was obvious!"

"Well - no - not really!"

Max appeared just as frazzled as you, both turning back for your studies as an awkward silence enveloped you both. When you plucked up the courage, you mumbled, "You know... It only feels wrong because of the way history is written."

"What do you mean?" Max asked gently, and your shoulders shrugged.

"History is written by the victors," you mumbled, "and dead men tell no tales. So, to history and all of us living in this country, the white, straight men rule all... Yet, those who don't fit that mold have found a way to speak through those who lost their lives to this fight before. We are not wrong for what we feel, but the victors who do not feel as we do would shame us into submission. Perhaps even try to outlaw who we are..."

You felt wrong for even sharing those words, but the idea that Max freaking Mayfield liked you back was too good to pass over; and though your words were cryptic, she seemed to understand what you meant between them.

Max nodded slowly, her eyes casting all over your face as your felt far too exposed for your liking. Heart bore on the table, ready for her judgement and slight of hand; you worried you'd crossed a line, but then her hand brushed over yours.

"I know that I don't feel this with anyone else," she nodded at you with meaning. "And that... Maybe a few deadmen are trying to speak through me now."

"Whatever you might feel is valid in the sense that you wouldn't feel it if not necessary," You tried to play off. "Those who came before us had to... Hide who they were, feel ashamed for simple emotion. It was never easy, and going forward, they will tell us we are still wrong, but... There is conversation of movements, of liberating those who might also feel deadmen trying to speak."

"How do you deal with it?"

The question caught you off guard because truthfully, you weren't confident how to answer. You knew your emotions were to be valued and treasured, yet you kept them close to your chest in fear of rejection. And now, with Max looking at you like that... You were at a loss over what to do; where to turn.

"Truthfully, Max, it's not easy," you whispered. "I am at a loss for what to do, what to think, because you're it to me. You are all my mind can focus on, and it drives me up the freaking wall, Max. You want to know how I deal with it?" You repeated, Max' eyes watering lightly from the show of hushed emotion before nodding mutely. "I don't deal with any of it - I'm mindlessly in love with you, and fear there is little I can do about it."

"But why is it so hard for you?"

"Because you're my best friend, but loving you hurts," your voice wobbled. "Because I know you do not feel the same, or that you are confused on what you feel. it's too late for me - because I'm too far gone. Everything reminds me of you, and it makes life so much harder. I don't know where to look, or where to turn - because all my mind thinks of it you."

"I... I knew you did not feel completely platonic towards me," she whispered, guilt plunging her gut. "I did not know what to do - "

"You didn't know what to do?" You repeated, suddenly angry. "So, what? You thought by tricking me, leading me into a conversation, you would find peace for your own soul - while forcing mine onto a chopping block?"

"I did not mean - "

"I know you didn't mean it, Max, but for fuck's sake," you stood suddenly, packing your bags, "use your head a bit. Look, I've got to go - "

"No, wait - "

"I can't be who answers your questions, Max, because I'm still asking my own," you interrupted her. "But I never once doubted the love I felt for you, and yet, I never wanted to jeopardize this friendship for the very same reason!" Her guilt was nearly tangible in the air between them. "If you've questions, ask them to yourself, because I'm a person, Max, with real feelings. Feelings that deserve to be treated with respect. Listen, I'll talk to you later, I have to go now."

"I'm sorry," she spewed, standing to follow you out. "Wait - please, I didn't mean to put you on the spot, I just - "

"You have questions of your own, and feelings of your own," you nodded in understanding, tears almost blinding you, "but so do I, and I cannot ask nor act upon them out of respect for you still figuring it out. Least you can do is extend me the same kindness."

Stunned, speechless, and feeling overwhelming fear and guilt for pushing you too far, Max was left to stare after you as you hustled from the library, down the stone steps, and hustling your step to walk through town and take you home. The whole time, you felt her eyes on you - until physically impossible - and the whole time, your own brimming with tears that would fall helplessly down your cheeks.

[a-method-in-it]

Girl what the hell is that last post you just reblogged.

(((They))) leave out or what.

Have you considered that you just did not pay that much attention during history class, because I learned about many of these things.

Jesus Christ half of that Tweet chain is just antisemtic conspiracy theories with 'zionists' instead of jews, as if that's not something the alt-right has started doing years ago.

Calling jewish people 'white' as if that's what the perception was at the time or makes any sense considering Jewishness is an ethnicity.

Fucking hell. You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk. But a claim that the goddamn Holocaust wasn't explicity and overwhelmingly targeting Jews with most others as afterthoughts is insane and history denying.

Literal textbook antisemitism.

Hi --- From the sound of this ask, you're someone who follows me, and as such I wish you hadn't sent this on anon so that I could reply privately, but here goes.

I assume you are talking about this post? That's the closest thing that I can find in my reblogs to what you're describing, though a lot of what you say about it here isn't actually true.

The post does not call Jewish people white --- it says that the way the Holocaust is presented in mainstream education seems designed to portray Jews as perfect white victims who didn't even fight back, which is obviously not true. (The fact that it's not true, including the white part, is what the Twitter user is pointing out.)

It also never claims that the Holocaust was not overwhelmingly targeting Jews, and I honestly don't know where you got that.

Also, I can't speak to where you went to school, but as a middle class white American, I actually was not taught anything in school about the Herero and Nama genocide, the presence of armed Jewish resistance to the Nazis, the fact that Hitler was inspired by the Armenian genocide, and certainly not that he was inspired by the genocide of indigenous peoples in the United States. (I did in high school learn that the Red Army liberated the camps and that people other than Jews were targeted as well, including Romani and disabled people; I have, however, had friends who were surprised to learn this as adults.)

You seem to think this post was criticizing the way that Jewish people talk about the Holocaust, but unless you think that Jewish people are in charge of all education policy (which would be a weird thing to think?) I don't see how you're getting that at all. The post specifies it's about Holocaust education, which I read as the things people are taught in school.

For what it's worth, I have found that Jewish sources of information about the Holocaust are actually less likely to fall into these traps than mainstream American ones, just speaking from my own experience.

I will say I'm not thrilled with the way the Twitter user makes the leap to saying that this type of education is deliberately meant to further zionism. I think that's a stretch. I reblogged it anyway because I thought it was overall making good points. I might wind up deleting it; I certainly take it seriously when something reads to Jewish people as engaging in anti-Semitic tropes, and if you have more to say about why you think this does that, I truly am happy to listen. I don't really see it that way, but as a goy, I often miss things.

But yeah. I feel like this would have been a better convo to have non-publicly, and I wish you hadn't chosen to go the anonymous route. I don't know what to make of statements like "You seemed like a reasonable person for a long time yk." coming from an anonymous ask. Are we mutuals? Have we interacted? Or are you basing this assessment purely on my online presence? Are you treating me like some quasi-public figure because I *checks notes* have a pseudonymous account on the internet's least popular social media site or have I offended someone I know and have some online relationship with?

If you want to send a chat or an ask I can answer privately, I'm happy to keep talking, but if you send another anonymous message, I will not be replying.

[navree]

Finished my reading of F&B, and to my shock Rhaenyra's character is pretty dark there... Like they've whitewashed her to an extreme degree

And there is no prophecy , no righteous goal etc.. and that's really good tbh because in that way the whole conflict feels more human. Like people irl don't need prophecy to be ambitious or power-hungry . Aegon is not a crybaby , Alicent is more ambitious and shrewd, Daemon is definitely much darker than his show version but also much more interesting...

I wonder why they didn't keep with the main characterization of the characters and tried to flesh them in the show instead of changing them completely.

Yeah they've lightened Rhaenyra up a lot in the show, though to be fair we haven't gotten to some of her darker stuff, but even things that have already happened, like her involvement in Vaemond's death or the Silent Five has been incredibly watered down.

Things like the prophecy providing a goal and some plot contrivances I think are largely there for two reasons: one, George told the showrunners that Aegon the Conqueror had foreseen something involving the war with The Others before he decided to conquer Westeros, and they added that into the show, two, because it's a prequel. Because Fire & Blood is a textbook and mostly just a supplementary piece of reading and not a story in its own right, it doesn't need to be connected to anything involving the main story other than the fact that it's about the Targaryens and there are Targaryen characters in ASOIAF. But because House of the Dragon is a direct prequel, a narrative that is adding some background depth to the original narrative of Game of Thrones, there does need to be some interconnectedness. There needs to be a thread tying one end to the other beyond just "Dany's a popular character and the Targaryens have the most recorded history about them when compared to the other major families", and the prophecy tying into the central conflict of GOT is that. I've been on record saying I don't think it was a good idea or very well done, but that's what they did.

As to why they changed certain things, it is largely to make them more palatable, and I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. For one, I'm personally a fan of Aegon as played by TGC being this pathetic pretty boy, sopping wet kitten with big needy eyes, desperate for love bundle of issues type of character, I think it's very fun and creatively fulfilling (and Tom and his tear ducts are killing it). For two, when converting any written narrative into a visual format, you're automatically put at a disadvantage by removing things like inner monologue, internal character voice, thoughts and observations, and really anything that cannot be externalized via facial expressions and spoken word. You can try to make up for it in a myriad of ways (Die Hard took a very stoic and quiet character from the book and made him a chatterbox in order to verbalize the thoughts he was having even though it completely changed the characterization, Twilight just plugs in Bella's narration everywhere, the first Dune adaptation did that batshit thing where it added internal monologue for like literally every character, it's so fucking nuts) or you can just ignore it (the Hunger Games movies kept Katniss's stoic characterization but didn't add in any narration to make up for her blank façade and let us see the complexities of her inner character the way we can in the book, which made movie!Katniss a faithful book character but kind of bad as a film protagonist). It's why, in the original show, Tyrion ended up getting a lot of his bad qualities washed away, because without the benefit of his inner monologue and his thoughts and viewing the world through his eyes like we do on the page, instead seeing things objectively on a screen, him doing things like slapping Shae and pawing at thirteen year old Sansa or constantly talking about all the women he wants to sexually assault (to say nothing of the women he actually sexually assaults) would make him completely unsympathetic and turn audiences against him. It's probably why they softened some of Theon too (he's a lot worse in ACOK than he is in season 2) and also why they made sure to show us everything he went through rather than have him vanish and then reappear as Reek the way he did in the books.

The characters in Fire & Blood are not written to be likable, they're ambitious and power hungry and while we all have our favorites and people that we're willing to excuse anything for ("Alys blew up someone's head" "Rhaenys torched people during the Conquest" grow up and have some fun, God forbid women do anything, I support them), we all know that this is one family full of dramatic bitches fighting for who can be the absolute monarch in a brutal feudal system and birthright monarchy is a scam anyway. But in a show, with a narrative, where you do need to have something approaching a protagonist and antagonist (GOT had good and evil on both sides of every conflict, but Joffrey and Ramsay and the White Walkers and the Essossi slavers clearly filled the roles of "big antagonists" for all the characters no matter whose side you're on), having everyone be miserable drama hoes 24/7 from the word "go" just isn't going to get audiences interested. And that's not gonna fly if you're HBO and you are a company attempting to make a profit like every other company on the planet, you need to get general audiences invested when there's clearly not much of an audience for "book only" people who'd shrugged off HBO's version ASOIAF ever since D&D started mucking it up atrociously. So lightening certain characters, making them more palatable in order to have their intricacies conveyed better in a visual format, that makes sense, that's what they ultimately had to land on to make the show work.

I'm not even against it per se, I like the starting off point we had for most of the characters and the change made to things like Rhaenyra and Alicent's dynamic and the new undertones in the subtext. It's mainly how they built on it from there, and some of the choices they've made, that I've had an issue with. But even then, as I've personally said, my critiques tend to be along the lines of liking the foundation and just wanting to build something different, or thinking certain plots and elements were an example of good idea but bad execution. If they'd started the show from the beginning of F&B, then maybe we'd have gotten a more book accurate Dance, since it would come a lot later and we'd have had time to get to know some great Targs but some incredibly awful Targs as well, but that's all in the past at this point.

I tend to just accept that book canon and show canon are different stories, which they are by design, and appreciate them both on their own merits.

[lifewiththelulus]

I made this lil guy for a specific reason I cannot reveal yet Still deciding a name

Every good song writer needs to get their heart broken riiiight

It was unexpected.

The boy who had shared a seat next to her in history class for the past few months found her after school walking home and had joined her.

At first she was sure he was simply looking for a friendship. They got partnered up for a project the week before and shared a lot in common.

Love of music, literature, movies, and animals.

Needless to say it shocked her when he pulled out that blue flower, and asked the question.

"Wanna go on a date?"

Her flowers opened up a little more and her cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Yes!!! I-I mean, that sounds fun."

She felt like her heart was about to burst.

Such a cute guy, asking her out?? 

She had thought about him a lot since meeting, but didn't want to jump onto thinking this was another crush.

That is until he asked. Now she knew how she felt.

Their first date was so nice

Lunch at a cute little diner, then an afternoon of reading together in the public library, followed up but a stroll in the park as the sunset bounced off the multicolored minerals that adorned the city.

It was nothing short of a perfect date in her eyes.

The whole day after Willow couldn't stop going on about it to her mom's.

"He's so sweet, and such a good listener - we're gonna go on another date next week! I still can't believe he asked me out! He's so cool."

Anytime she spoke of him her voice held a dreamy tone in place of the timid one that she normally held.

Everything was good

Aurora was happy for her little sister, and her new boyfriend.

Anytime she saw them they both looked so cute and infatuated with each other.

She never guessed his infatuation wasn't with Willow though.

It happened on day after school.

Aurora was putting her textbooks away in her locker when he came up to her.

At first, she expected him to ask about Willow and if/when she would back back in school.

She hadn't been feeling well, as she gets sick easily, and Kindlin wanted her to stay home on bed rest until she was 100% again.

Aurora smiled softly at him.

"Oh hey Andi, how's it going?"

Andi gave his usual tired smile, though his cheeks were flushed with light pink.

"Hey Aurora. Not much, class was so boring."

Aurora giggled as she closed her locker.

"I bet, especially without a certain someone to make goo goo eyes at, huh?"

Andi giggled awkwardly

"Yeah… actually I wanted to talk to you about that."

He seemed really nervous, and Aurora turned to give him her full attention.

"Everything alright?"

He purses his lips and nodded.

"Yes- well, no. I mean- "

He took a deep breath.

"Look I like Willow and all, but… I gotta be honest. It's not in that way."

Aurora furrowed her brow. Where was he going with this?

"I really like someone else, like, a lot"

He blushed and scratched the back of his head.

"Aurora, I really like you. You've got the voice of an angel, and you're so pretty and smart and-"

She put a hand up to make him stop talking.

She spoke up firmly.

"Whoa back it up. What the hell are you talking about?? Willow is your girlfriend dude. You asked her out. What do you mean you don't like her like that?"

He was silent as she read his guilty face. Then it clicked.

"You… You only asked her out to get closer to me, didn't you?"

She felt smoke starting to billow from herself.

His silence said everything.

"Ok. Wow. I thought you were a really cool guy, but I was wrong. You realize that Willow actually really likes you right?"

He remained silent and looked away in shame.

"Dude, that's seriously fucked up. You know, I only like girls, but even if I didn't I wouldn't go on a single date with a sorry excuse for a guy like you. You seriously are the worst person. Willow is such a sweet heart and you don't deserve her one bit."

He frowned and finally spoke up 

"Look let's just forget-"

"UH UH. You really think I'm just gonna let this go? Are you as stupid as you are cruel? You didn't even break up yet and you're already trying to get with someone else, her sister of all people!"

He shut up at that.

She scoffed and floated to be taller than him, getting up in his face.

"You have 24 hours to do the right thing. You don't, I'll do it for you. Got it?"

She didn't notice how much smoke was starting to fill the halls because she was so focused on him

"But I -"

"GOT IT?"

She had never raised her voice like that at anyone.

He nodded vigorously and ran away after.

When she got home she was completely exhausted mentally. She felt so horrible about knowing what she did.

She really hoped she wouldn't have to tell Willow.

If he broke it off soon she could take it to her grave peacefully. If not… 

She felt awful just thinking about it.

How would she even do it?

'hey Willow! You know that guy you are super in love with? Well turns out he doesn't even like you! He likes me though isn't that just awesome? Sucks for you sorry.'

As she walked in, Kindlin noticed the scowl her normally calm kid had.

"Hey cinnamon roll, how was school?"

The question popped her thought but and she sat at the kitchen table.

"It was.. fine. How's Willow?"

Kindlin smiled softly. Ah, she must've been missing her sister. The two of them did spend a lot of time together, especially after starting their band.

"She's much better today, I think she's awake now if you wanna go see her."

Aurora felt sick at that. She couldn't face her sister, knowing what she did.. knowing what was about to go down…

"Maybe later… I think I'm gonna take a nap."

Aurora got up slowly, and floated off to her room.

Kindlin made a small frown, watching her little Aurora so somberly float away.

She hoped she wasn't getting sick now too…

[the-anonymous-apocalypse]

One more friend down

For those who haven't figured it out, I'm Southern. I am very southern sometimes and a history fanatic. And in my Southern history there's a certain flag I enjoy the story behind concerning a cannon and an absolute badass catchphrase on it.

Anyway, I have this flag up in my new house (it was a housewarming gift from my parents) and one of my old friends came by just to visit and catch up and for me to show them my new house.

Anyway, this flag is up in one of the main areas of my house where all my maps and textbooks over various historical events, I even have a rack of hats I've gotten from museums because I am too tempted to wear shirts.

Now my friend is a little more passionate in their political standpoint than I can really bear.

(I despise politics just FYI, I think they're dumb and we should just believe what we want and deal with it)

Now I've recently discovered that I am not a part of the community like I thought but i still don't have any opinions on it, you do you boo. Have fun don't die 👍🏻

And this friend of mine sees the flag and.. kind of loses their shit. To quote (I wrote it down bc it's funny) (I'm plain,they're italics)

"What is that?"

"A flag"

"Why do you have it?"

"Because it's cool."

"It's offensive is what it is."

"Okay, how?"

At this point I have hardly any understanding of what they're talking about and quite frankly they back tracked their words too much for me to accurately state what they said but I laugh when i think about it.

"Take it down."

"What? No."

"You can't have this up."

"Yeah I can, it's just a couple of nails."

I'm really just trying to make a joke out of it because I have been friends with this person since grade school and don't want to have an argument with them.

"It's violent."

"No, it's history. It's cool as shit"

"it's provoking gun violence."

"hOw?!"

They continued to give me bullshit reasons like its a cannon, or the phrase is taunting and crimalistic.

And for you who haven't figured what flag I'm discussing, it's the Come and Take It flag from the Texas Revolution and the Battle of Gonzales.

"You're being racist."

"Again I ask, how?"

"It's offensive to Mexicans."

I can see how someone MIGHT think this but anyone who steps foot into my house is either very aware how I feel about racism or not supposed to be in there to begin with.

Anyway, we proceeded to argue before I got fed up with this called them a Karen and kicked them out while they screamed at me to take down the flag and while I was at it to put up the glass cased rifle I had gotten from my recently deceased grandfather. (Which they attended the funeral to with me)

So. To any of my history buffs with cool shit like flags or various memorabilia, don't let anyone tell you to take it down bc its cool and they can get over it. Live and let live

[kasplonkable]

Dating Isaac Lahey would include:

Stealing his jumpers constantly. They're literally massive, but they're soft, and they smell like old books, and the woods after rain, but most of all they smell like home

Going to see his lacrosse games. He would try to tell you that it wasn't a big deal, and that you didn't really have to come, but you would absolutely go full out every time

I'm talking face paint, colour coordinated outfits, banners, the works

He would be so embarrassed at first, but not of you. He's just shocked that someone would care about him that much

He would do this thing when the game ended where he would run across the pitch and kiss you in front of the crowd like he'd just won (even if their team lost)

If you guys are studying together, he would occasionally lean over to look at your answers, and when he gets caught he would pretend that he was going to hug you instead

"No, babe, you literally just look so cute right now" *continues peeking*

"Uh huh. It seems my answers are looking even cuter..."

"Well, now that you mention it-"

Lots of small touches. When you guys are walking together, your hands just naturally find eachother

Or when you're studying, you'll comfortably press your legs against eachothers under the table

Or sitting down, he'll sling his arm over your shoulders so you can lean on his chest

You both just enjoy the feeling of being close

He is constantly giving you his jacket. If he sees to even shiver slightly, the jacket is coming off. Even if you rub your arms, all of a sudden you have his coat dumped on you while he looks away bashfully and mumbles something about it being cold

Yeah, it's kinda chivalrous, but really it's more of a possessive thing

Speaking of being possessive, oh my days he literally cannot deal with other guys flirting with you

One time, while the two of you were eating lunch together, one of the guys from your history class came over and started flirting with you, and Isaac did not take it well at all

"I was thinking we could hang out on Friday? Just you and me, without your friend here"

Issac kept his head down as be wrapped his arm around your shoulder, finally looking up, eyes yellow as the sun, when he said

"You wanna try that again, bud?"

The guy almost seems stuck on the spot until you place a hand on Issac's, squeezing gently

"Sorry Ben, I'm actually Issac's girlfriend, so I can't"

Even though he was angry, hearing you tell people 'you are his' drove him a little wild

You write eachother small love notes all the time. Sometimes you give them in person, sliding small professions of love across the hard wood of the library desks

But sometimes it's more fun to hide them for the other to find later

So many times, Isaac has come home from a rough day only to move a folder on his desk and find a small note folded there. His face just lights up, the troubles of the day already fading in his mind, replaced by one thought: you

Or sometimes he'll flick to a random page in his textbook, and a small pink post-it will fly out from between the pages, the only message on it being "i love you"

He starts off as the big spoon, but you usually wake up to find him safely gathered up in your arms, asleep on your chest

Especially if he has a nightmare. He tries so hard not to wake you, but if he does, just hold him until he calms down, muttering sweet nothings until he falls back asleep. A lot of the time he doesn't even remember it in the morning

He's the one who deals with spiders, but not before teasing you about it

"Oh come on, he's just a little guy!!"

"Isaac, seriously, please take him outside"

"You sure you don't wanna say hi?"

He never kills them though. He kinda identifies with them, so he just grabs a cup and some paper and takes them out

There was that one time though, when the spider wouldn't fit in the cup, in which both of you really considered just leaving for a couple hours until it went away on it's own

"Yeah I think I'm gonna give this one a miss..."

"What do you mean 'a miss'? You're the big bad wolf, go sort it out!!"

"Wait, babe....where did it go?"

👁👄👁

*sounds of you both grabbing your bags and leaving the room* "nope" "nope" "absolutely not"

I actually had so much fun writing this!! It's crazy the kind of inspiration you get when you're trying to avoid studying, but anyway!! Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to send a request!! :-)

[jasper-pagan-witch]

Jasper Reviews: Queer Magic by Tomas Prower

So instead of giving a breakdown of this book like I did with two of Bree's books, I'll just summarize my thoughts and feelings on this book.

Tomas Prower mentions that his background, going into this book, is as an ex-Catholic biracial (white/Mexican, he specifies in one chapter) queer man. This information is scattered through the book, and none of it is located in the About the Author blurb (which instead focuses on his cool past and previous mundane experiences).

This book is THICK. Ignoring the introduction, outro, and bibliography, it's 252 pages of content (minus a few "blank for formatting purposes" ones). This is a hefty little manuscript because it wants to cover nuance, but it's also thinner than it could be because it's trying to cover a lot of different topics.

It's a nice blend of history, religions, modern thinking, and magic - it isn't specifically for witchcraft, it isn't specifically Wiccan or pagan, it isn't a boring history textbook that you doodle dicks in the empty spaces of (or maybe you will, I'm not in charge of what you do with your copy).

Tomas Prower cites sources for his claims, directs you to other places for further reading, and, most importantly of all, takes historical context into account. He doesn't pretend that everything was perfect and beautiful for historical queer people and that Christianity was the sole catalyst in anti-queer rhetoric forming, but makes note that colonization did a lot of harm to queer people in many cultures and religions in the past.

There are prompts for practicing magic at the end of each subchapter. I found these very useful because it approached magic from a specifically queer perspective, but not so much that the magic itself was lost in favor of performative activism (which I've seen in a few books marketed to queer witches).

While it did poke around into many different cultures and religions to bring different ideas to light (and also introduced me to the core concepts behind many of them), it did miss quite a number, as tends to happen in "broad stroke books" like this one.

Tomas Prower doesn't encourage appropriation and instead encourages you to learn about the religions and cultures talked about before you start willy-nilly adding spirits and cultures and deities to your practice. To quote him, "Eclectic spirituality and cosmopolitanism are one thing, but appropriation and lack of cultural reverence are another." He does not advocate for you to work with the beings (deities, historical figures, or whatnot) from these cultures and religions and instead encourages you to see what the point of these groups are and how understanding the key points can help you on a more personal level or on a local community level.

What he does do is bring in guest writers to talk about their experiences as queer practitioners or members of these groups and share their insight.

He does his best to explain terms to a Western-focused audience who may be unfamiliar with what a bodhisattva or orisha is. If you're already familiar with them, you may find his explanations very watered-down.

When talking about third genders, I noticed that these third genders almost exclusively referred to people born as men but living as women. This seems to be a case of "this is what survived that we have" rather than any bias on the author's part, but the theme of "women aren't paid much attention in these historical societies so we don't really know what they were up to" is a pretty common one in this book (as it is in all history books).

I would summarize this book as primarily queer history with a touch of magic in the prompts and takeaways and a little bit of modern queer information. If you like the tone I use (or wish it was a little softer) when I write, you'll enjoy Tomas Prower's "voice" in this book.

This is unrelated to the review, but I started to notice a pattern of medicine-related deities and liminal deities (like psychopomps or afterlife deities) being picked out more as queer for the examples of this book.

Official Jasper Review: 8/10, I found this to be a good book for what it is

[boom-fanfic-a-latta]

Anonymous Submitted:

Speaking of Raz confessing the truth about himself, the way I see it happening is that it starts with Raz hiding in a shower stall.

Chloe enters the bathroom, and tries to ask Raz if she can come in, but stumbles a bit because this is the first time she's comforting someone else like this in a long time, if she's ever done it before. It comes out in a way that, if most people said it like that, would come off as insensitive, but it's clear Chloe is trying.

Raz tells her to come in to the stall, and Raz just looks so small, curled up on the ground. Chloe sits beside him, clearly trying to imitate the way Raz would deal with this if the roles were reversed.

She asks him what's wrong, and, in a voice so much smaller than he is, asks if they all think that. Chloe's a bit confused, before Raz clarifies "Does everyone think all Hydrokinetics are evil?"

Chloe stops for a second. She can't deny that she thought that for a bit, but it's clear Raz knows something Ms Busier didn't say, and asks him why it matters.

Raz goes quiet, and puts one hand towards his temple, and the other outstretched towards a puddle. His eyes glow an eerie gold, and a hand stretches out from the water.

"Oh," she says, dumbfounded. She was already aware he was psychic, but this was new.

"Well, clearly Ms Busier was wrong about it. You are like, the least evil person I know. You know, I could set up a campaign with Daddy to get rid of this... Whatever it is that Busier tried to teach us,"

"Hydropsi-phobia"

"Yeah, that word. After all, it's not like all Hydrokinetics are related to that Maligula lady!"

Raz suddenly looks at the ground in a way that says pretty much everything.

"You're related to Maligula?!?"

"Shh! No one's supposed to know!"

"Right. That would be terrible for your reputation."

"... She's my Great Aunt on my dad's side. Uh, Bio-dad, not Stephan. Funny thing is, I only learned I was Hydrokinetic after I learned about her, and what she did..."

"Wow, must of sucked to have get that power"

"Actually," here the water manifests as a little scene of a younger Raz on the shore "I already had them for a while, but... My family was really superstitious. We believed... No, Were tricked into thinking that we were cursed, so when I first got my powers... " Water Raz is shown to be suddenly dragged 'under' the water by a similar hand to the one he manifested earlier.

Chloe demands to know who did that to him- his family(but mostly him) so she can get her lawyers and sue them for everything they have. Raz explains, giving a brief summary of Ford's actions, and even explaining how he grew up with Maligula as his Nona.

Raz admits that it feels better, like a weight is off his chest from talking about that with someone other than his parents(both sets of them), but he's not sure if he can handle any more of the Grulovian History lesson.

"You know, I'm not sure I want to go back to that class either; Clearly they weren't teaching us about anything useful. Why don't we go shopping, I feel like I need a new outfit, and I think you need a new comic. Don't worry, you're helping me out, which, by extension, means you are helping Paris out."

They both go out and have a good time.

(Meanwhile Chat and Ladybug defeat the Akuma, noting Goggalor's absence, but not being too worried as the Akuma went down quick. They call the begoggled hero later on, and he explains that he was dealing with some important business.)

(Also, the Stop Psyphobia campaign begins, and their first goal is providing psychic-friendly textbooks to Paris's schools.)

My Comments:

And this is how the Psychic Support Club starts, with an anti-psyphobia campaign /hj

Seriously though this feels like the perfect setup for the club to form and everything

Raz hiding in the bathroom this poor kid he’s only 10 he doesn’t want to deal with any more anti-psychic anything let alone learning about the Deluge again like this—

Also Chloé threatening to sue Ford brings up hilarious images in my head

[angelblacksmith]

True (h.p)

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Reader

Warning: fluff, a lot of fluff, my English (is not my native language, sorry)

Summary: Non-reciprocal feelings are terrible, but only as long as your best friend does not let it slip that they are mutual.

Word count: 933

Requests are open!

Soft footsteps sounded in the library. The young girl put the books and textbooks on the table. Looking at her friend, Hermione smiled. "Have you already prepared an essay on the history of magic?" Hermiona was full of energy and enthusiasm. Unlike you.

You exhaled loudly and put your head on the table. You wrote this essay over the weekend, but the problem of your fatigue and lack of enthusiasm was not in the essay. It was all about one nice boy who didn't pay any attention to you. Well, how did he not pay attention? He did. He treated you to chocolate frogs, asked for help in studying potions, joked sweetly...

"Y/n Can you hear me? What did I just say?" Hermione folded her arms and looked at you expectantly.

"What? No, I'm sorry, Hermione, I was lost in my thoughts." You were embarrassed and took out an old book of Muggle fairy tales that you were going to read.

Hermione frowned and thought about something for a long time. Her brainstorming session was interrupted by two boys. They entered the library and were talking loudly about something. One of them was red - haired and tall-Ron Weasley, and the other was a...

"Harry, you understand! These Slytherins..." Ron gesticulated a lot and was ridiculously indignant.

"Have you forgotten where you came from? This is the library, Ronald Weasley. Have respect!" Hermione was quietly indignant.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Hello, y/n." Ron mumbled a greeting and an apology, and then continued. "I was just telling Harry..."

You barely heard the rest of Ron's monologue. All your attention was focused on the table. You knew that if you looked at Harry, you wouldn't look away. Hermione was looking at you carefully. She was thinking about something and couldn't get it out of her head. What if?...

"Is anyone even listening to me here?" Ron indignantly banged his fist on the table, which attracted the attention of the librarian and other students.

"I'm listening." Harry looked up sharply and looked at Ron with an interested and innocent smile. "Are you Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm listening to you." Hermione nodded at you. "Y/n and I are considering your words."

Ron nodded proudly and took out a crumpled textbook. Under the stern gaze of Madame Pince, he began to pretend to read. Harry followed suit a couple of minutes later. You also decided to read a little. Hermione didn't take up an essay on the history of magic. She was looking at you intently. It seemed that she was about to read your thoughts. Hermione turned away from you and looked at the boys. Shaking her head, she opened her textbook on the history of magic.

***

"Do you like him?" Hermione caught up with you in the hallway. "Do you really like him?" Hermiona walked quickly, not letting you escape from her questions.

"What?" You made the most surprised face, but your red cheeks gave you away. "Who are you talking about, Hermione? I don't understand. "

"You understand everything! Did you think to hide this from your best friend? And you're not playing the surprise well." Hermione smiled and followed you down the hall.

"Okay, you're right." Hermione's eyes lit up and she was all glowing with happiness. "I like him." You exhaled and looked at the floor. What an interesting arnament!

"Does he know about this?" Hermione's question made you look up. You shook your head sadly and smiled. "No, I'm afraid he doesn't even suspect."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be surprised. "Are you serious? He doesn't know?" She started laughing. You frowned at her. What is this sudden fit of laughter? Did you say something funny? Maybe now she thinks you're stupid? You frowned even more and seriously did not understand what was funny you said.

"This is so ridiculous! you have to tell him!" Hermione almost jumped with happiness.

"What? You shook your head and got scared. "No way! I can't! "

"Why? You will never get along with him at this rate…Oops" Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. It seemed to you that she was even somehow ashamed. But what did she say? You have considered her words.

"We? "really Harry Potter? The chosen Harry Potter? Harry Potter himself, who treated you to chocolate frogs? Does he really not see you as a friend at all, huh?..

"Hermione? "You looked at her with surprise. "Is that what I think it is? It's true? "You were seriously worried and wanted to find out faster.

"Really" Hermione looked behind you. You turned around. Harry looked at you with a sad look. "You forgot the book." He handed you the book and put his hands in his pockets, looking down. You've never seen him so sad.

"Well, guys, I'll go." Hermione ran past you and Harry quietly and quickly. There was an awkward silence.

"Is it true? Do you like me too?" Harry looked at you. There was so much hope in his eyes. You bit your lip to keep from smiling so hard. "True."

"Does this mean that I can invite you to Hogsmeade?" Harry scratched his head awkwardly and smiled shyly. He looked so charming and cozy that you just couldn't help but smile.

"It would be absolutely wrong of you if you didn't invite me." You went up to him and lightly kissed him on the cheek. "See you later, Harry."

[amostimprobabledream]

And He Walks With Flames (Dabi x Reader) -Part Three

The old man is still talking, his voice flattening to a self-important drone, but Dabi isn’t listening.

He tends to pick and choose when he tuned into the miserable old fuck's ramblings, since he knew most of it would amount to nothing in the end. It would soon all be ashes. Since he'd been brought to this sterile shithole, he'd entertained himself with fantasies of exactly how he was going to kill the old man and those crawling little assistants of his - and oh, didn't Dabi have so many options to choose from? The thought makes his fingers twitch with excitement, like they are flexing of their own accord in anticipation of the event.

But that, too, has eventually gotten boring. That was something they didn't often mention about captivity – its fucking tedious whenever you don't have humans in white coats poking at you or running their little tests with their precious machines. If Dabi wasn’t keenly aware of how temporary this all was, and since he knows he’s too powerful for them to really be able to hurt him, he probably would have lost it a long time ago. He never did take too kindly to being…restrained.

So imagine his joy, his fucking glee, when the idiot humans had actually done as he demanded and brought you here to him, like a lamb to the slaughter. Oh, Dabi may be behind a barrier and have those magitech guns pointed at his head, just waiting for an excuse to open fire, but that doesn’t matter. Just as long as he can see you again, he was prepared to tolerate doing so with restrictions in place.

For now.

You stood there, gazing up at him with a dark scowl forming on your pretty little face at the pet name, just as he'd suspected you would. Yet it felt quite natural to him, wrapping around you in a veil of false intimacy he knew would make you squirm.

The very fact he wasn't supposed to have even laid eyes on someone like you made it all the more hilarious to Dabi that he'd been able to demand your presence here before him, all with the threat of sinking back into his unresponsive state if not properly indulged. Even behind this barrier and with all the little enchantments cast on the place, he held plenty of sway. Getting humans to dance to his tune was something he never tired of doing. Their false sense of superiority over him would be their undoing.

"Don't call me that." you snap at him in a bitchy tone, narrowing your eyes a fraction. He wonders if that’s supposed to be intimidating.

"Mm? You don't like that?" Dabi asks in a mock-apologetic tone, his smile nothing less than scornful as he tilts his head. "What should I call you? Angel? Baby? Honey? I'm all ears, princess."

You open your mouth to bite back at him and he wants to laugh - you're clearly not accustomed to being spoken to like that and it only makes him want to do it more. Such a spoiled little thing. Getting you all huffy and flustered, such a sharp contrast to your smart, academic clothing and attempts at maintaining a detached demeanour, is the best entertainment he's had in weeks. You’re so damn cute when you’re annoyed.

"We brought the girl as you asked, demon," interrupts Fuji, and Dabi feels a vein of irritation puncture his pleasure at teasing you. He's had enough of the Director's voice to last him a lifetime, which is unfortunate since the old fuck seems disinclined to shut his mouth any time soon - he does like to hear himself talk. "Now will you co-operate with us?"

"You really are interested in me, aren't you?" Dabi hums, tail swaying laconically behind him. "How flattering. Or...could it be you're hamstrung by your lack of options? Hmm? Seems like I'm the only demon you've got in here. How pitiful."

"That's awfully confident talk, considering you're the one currently being held captive." Director Fuji replies casually, and Dabi snorts softly but with derision. "And here I thought demons could sense one another - either this facility is better fortified than I had thought, or you're overestimating your powers."

"Perhaps." Dabi replies lazily, as if this is of no concern to him.

You bite your lip as you watch this exchange.

You had expected Dabi to fly into a rage at that. Weren't demons supposed to be famously volatile? Either he's unusually composed for his species, or the ancient depictions of demons have a rather more extreme point of view than previously thought. Then again, no doubt Dabi knows that excessively aggressive behaviour on his part will result in some pretty painful magical retaliation and doesn't care to risk it, or he just doesn't think the Director is worthy of his rage. And no doubt the humans who used to fight demons in the history books would certainly see them far more monstrous than the detached viewpoint of a scholar who has likely never even seen one.

Yet even with all these safety measures, you cannot help but feel uneasy with Director Fuji casually divulging this information to Dabi. Knowing that he has potential allies somewhere in the building may well encourage him to act out, maybe even mount an escape attempt. From what Father has said, of all the demon specimens the facility has managed to acquire, Dabi is the anomaly. Is it because he's the strongest of all of them, or merely the most human-like? For all you know, there could be a horde of the terrifying, red-skinned beings depicted in your textbooks chained up in the basement. The thought makes a shiver crawl down your spine.

Dabi’s eyes turn back to yours and you stiffen.

“Why did you want me here?” you say, deciding to cut him off before something else obnoxious spills from his mouth, which seems to be an occupational hazard when it comes to this guy. “What’s the point?”

Dabi shrugs elegantly, tail flicking.

“Why not? You weren’t supposed to be in here at all, were you? Yet in you marched like you had every right. It made me curious. Plus, it’s nice to see a decent pair of tits around here.”

You know he expects you to squawk and flounce out in a huff, so you stays rooted to the spot, still scowling at him. The urge to cover your chest is strong, but you manage to overpower it, aware of how still the room has gone. It’s like only you and Dabi exist, and the thought is both frightening and oddly exhilarating – among all these scientists and supposed brilliant minds, you’re the only one he cares to speak to. He answered Dr. Fuji’s questions, yes, but he barely even looked at him. You’re the one he directly spoke to. That gives you some modicum of power, even if you’re not sure how best to use it just yet. “You don’t frighten me, demon.” You make sure to tell him calmly.

Dabi quirks an eyebrow at that.

“Oh?”

The word is loaded with tension, a little hiss on the syllable that makes you shiver, but you know he can’t do anything to you in his cage. So, you tilt your head back and offer him a bland, beatific smile.

“Sure, you might have some strong demon magic. That’s par the course for demons as humanoid-looking as you. I know quite a bit about demonology, you see. Not like these scientists with their tests and machines, but in other ways. It’s an interesting subject, and one you interrupted me from by making me come here with some pathetic attempts to get under my skin.”

You give a shrug.

“But you’ve overplayed your hand. Now everyone here knows you can speak and understand everything they say. No more treating you with kid gloves, so I guess that means there’s a lot more tests coming your way now. But really, how powerful can you be?”

Your smile widens into a smirk as you go in for the kill. He wanted you to come here? Then that was exactly what he’d get – you weren’t some trembling coward who would stand there like a deer in headlights just because a big bad demon spoke to you. You were your mother’s daughter, after all.

“After all, you’re the one behind bars.”

There’s silence. A silence that blankets the lab like snow, and Dabi’s smile remains in place, but his eyes are cold and piercing as they stare at you. You feel tingles erupting through your body, like you’ve narrowly avoided being bitten by a wolf and are only inches away from its jaw still. One of the assistant researchers is outright staring at you, open-mouthed, like you’ve suddenly sprouted a tail, or your skin has turned blue or something else miraculous and inexplicable.

"Director, we'll be taking our leave now." Father says beside you, making you jump.

To be honest, you had completely forgotten he was there. Evidently, he isn’t comfortable with the way the demon behind bars is looking at you either, even if you think it’s a little late for that. Still, he’s glaring at his boss with an unusually fierce look of disapproval on his face.

"Our part in this is over."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, fine." Director Fuji says, not even glancing at the pair of you, far too excited that he’s gotten the response he wanted from Dabi to care. "You may leave."

Relief washes over you and you risk a grateful glance at Father. Perhaps he feels bad that his forgetfulness caused this in the first place, and it's spurred him to go against the Director's whims for once, but he's right, you hardly need to be here now that Dabi is apparently feeling conversational and you're only too happy to get back out into the afternoon air.

The rush of relief doesn't last long, though, and you mourn its absence because, as you turn to go, a voice calls out to you, lashing around you like a lasso. Despite yourself, perhaps because you don't want it to look like Dabi frightens you - don't want to admit he does - you look back.

Those eyes. Whenever you look at Dabi you can see he's powerful, but you don't spend a lot of time thinking about the various forms power can take, the nuances of it. But when your gaze meets his, you feel like you've been pulled under by a whirlpool. Everything around you, the lab, the director, your father, all of it disappears and only he remains. Only he is what matters. That look burns everything else away, whispering promises to you that you don't want to hear.

So why are you listening?

"I'll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart." Dabi says in a low voice, like it's meant exclusively for you. "Real soon."

Anger unfurls inside you like a flower. Who does this…specimen think he is? He certainly can talk big, but the reality isn't looking so good for him - poked and prodded at by plenty of magically gifted humans and a container built specifically to hold creatures like him. The only reason he got his way today is because the Director couldn't help but indulge his scientific curiosity. But he’s an arrogant bastard to assume he'll be indulged a second time.

That thought in your mind, you sneer and flick your hair back.

"Don't count on it, demon."

Is it your imagination, or did a flicker of something cross his face when he took note of your refusal to call him by name? Maybe you only saw what you wanted to see, but either way it makes you feel a little better, to know something you said bothered him.

You stride out of the lab, knowing he's watching you, that he has no choice but to stand there and watch you disappear from his sight, without knowing if you'll return or not now that the scientists have finally gotten him to speak. He can hardly pretend not to understand them now.

~

Mother was right.

Anybody who is anybody seems to have shown up to the fundraiser tonight.

You smooth down the skirt of your dress, vaguely aware of your palms being a bit on the damp side. It’s not just the amount of people in the room, either - the entire room feels stiflingly humid and you’re glad somebody thought to open the doors to the balcony.

Ribbons of gold are hanging from the ceiling, attached to dozens of balloons. The tables are also draped in gold-coloured tablecloths and everywhere seems to have been polished to within an inch of its life. The dinner won’t start for a while yet and you didn’t eat anything before hand, worried about spilling it or your stomach sticking out unflatteringly. So, you remind yourself to take it easy on the champagne as you snatch up a flute of it from a passing waiter. Still, the drink does taste good as it goes down, bubbles fizzing on your tongue. You press your fingers to your lips with a little smile.

You hear your name being called and glance over to see a figure manoeuvring through the crowd towards you and your smile morphs into a grin.

“Momo!”

She looks ravishing, of course. She always does, in a silver gown that sparkles like a diamond. Her jewellery is simple and understated, but you can tell from a glance that it’s expensive. It’s odd to see her without her trademark ponytail, but it looks great on her. You hate yourself for it, but you can’t help but instantly compare yourself, your clothes, your hair, your style, to hers and wonder how you measure up. You suspect you may be lacking.

You do your best to push those thoughts away – you’re Momo’s friend and you shouldn’t view her looking amazing as some kind of failing on your end. Anyway, it wouldn’t do to get all maudlin right now, not when you have so many people to talk to and things to see.

“You look amazing!” you tell her, giving her a hug. “Is that dress new?”

“Oh…sort of,” Momo shrugs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, beaming shyly at you. Ah, so she used her magic to make it, then. Usually, Momo buys her clothing like everyone else – she’s certainly rich enough to afford it. But every once in a while, she’ll use her magic to create an outfit and it looks like that’s the case tonight. It’s good to know Momo sees this event as important to, that you and Mother aren’t just making a big deal out of nothing. “You look great too, I’ve always liked that necklace on you.”

You touch it, pleased, but you can’t help give her a playful nudge.

“And of course, I bet your parents are looking forward to the auction, right? They could probably afford to buy every lot here, if they wanted to.”

“Don’t be silly!” Momo replies, but she’s giggling. “Though mother did hear about some sort of rare lamp that might have belonged to a djinn that she was fascinated about. And I’m sure there are other things that would be so useful for our magical studies, I hope there are some representatives of the academy here who can participate in the bidding!”

You hadn’t even thought of that – trust the genius Momo to be thinking about the potential of the academy getting their hands on some magical oddities.

“That’s a good point. I’m sure we’ll run into a professor or two,” you say, risking another sip of your champagne. “They party hard, these intellectual types.”

Momo laughs again, and you do too, the mental image of Professor Nedzu getting drunk a pretty hilarious one. You don’t even know if he can drink, but maybe tonight you’ll find out for sure-

“Look!” Momo suddenly whispers.

You hear gasps near the entrance to the building and turn around, eyes widening when you realise who has just walked in. Your mouth falls open.

“It’s him.”

The rumours were true. You don’t know how Mother pulled it off, but when some of the crowd parts, you spot the unmistakable red-and-white head of Prince Shouto Todoroki.

Thought it’s strange for the youngest child to be the heir to the throne, you can admit that there’s an aura to him, a certain stoic regalness to his features. It’s common knowledge that of King Enji’s children, only Prince Shouto is able to use both fire and ice magic, the perfect combination of elements, and it is this reason that he is considered the ‘true heir’. What Princess Fuyumi and Prince Natsuo’s opinions are on being passed over for their supposedly weak magical ability has never been discussed publicly, and the less said of Queen Rei (or ‘the Mad Queen’, as some circles call her in whispers), the better. You did hear a rumour once about someone else. A firstborn Prince who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, but you’ve never put much thought into it. How can a Prince just go missing? Wouldn’t people be looking for him if that were the case? It just seems too farfetched to be true.

“Should we go talk to him?” you blurt out without thinking, yet the idea of inconveniencing the prince in any way fills you with dread.

“Well…” Momo says, also glancing Prince Shouto’s way, and you know it’s not a trick of the light that her cheeks hold the faintest hint of a blush. “Perhaps later, when he isn’t busy? We wouldn’t want to be rude and interrupt him when he’s speaking with important people…”

Right. You wouldn’t want to be rude.

Still, excitement fizzes through you veins as reality hits you full force. You’d been viewing this evening as having a chat with a bunch of stuffy old academics older than your father, but now you’re beginning to understand why Mother had been so insistent on you dressing up and brushing up on conversational topics. Not that you’re out to catch yourself a husband or anything – you’re way too interested in your academic career and honing your magic for that – but that doesn’t mean you’re not interested in doing other things. Especially with people who look like Prince Shouto.

“Momo!” calls a voice, and you make a face. Ugh.

“Oh, it’s Iida and his family!” Momo says, glancing at you, knowing your distaste for your classmate very well. He’s just so pompous and annoying and he always makes lectures drag on far longer than they need to by asking unnecessary questions. “I’ll just go say hello, okay?”

You nod, knowing that a family as well-connected as Momo Yaoyozoru’s means she’s probably going to have to say hello to a lot of people tonight.

“No problem, I’ll catch up to you later.”

She nods at you, a grateful smile on her face, before she moves over to speak to what looks like Iida’s older brother, Tensei. You quickly slip away before the younger brother can spot you, which is easy enough with this many people here. You mill around the room, taking another sip from your champagne. You feel a bit like an actress playing a role, perhaps ‘girl at the party’. As you walk, you pass by a mirror and glance at it, making sure you haven’t smudged your make-up or something.

You have to admit, the dress you’re wearing looks good on you. You found it in the back of your wardrobe after seemingly throwing everything else you own onto your bed. But the searing shade of blue complements your skin tone well, and the style of the dress flatters your figure without being too revealing. You’ve seen a couple of people glance your way, and it feels nice when it’s in a place as wonderful as this. And it’s only for tonight, so there’s no pressure on you to look like this every evening.

Soon the auction for magical artefacts will start, though you’re not planning on buying anything – your parents might not be struggling to make ends meet, but you have student loans to think about. Plus, there’s no way you could afford any of them, especially not with the lords and ladies here when they want something.

As you move further into the hallway, you notice there seem to be stalls and tables, probably merchants flogging their wares. Curious, you move to inspect them. Strange objects lie on a bed of black velvet, some of it recognisable to you, others you’ve never even heard of. The intellectual in you is dying to know more. “Are you enjoying the party?”

You glance up at a voice.

A man, you’d guess he’s in his mid-thirties or so, is watching you from a stall right at the end of the hallway. It’s a bit bigger than the others and you suddenly realise he’s actually sitting in front of a tent of some sort.

“I am, yes,” you reply, moving a little closer to have a look at what he might be selling – just because you have no intention in participating in the auction doesn’t mean you won’t buy anything. “Are you?”

The man smiles and there’s something about him…it’s hard to explain, but you’re both curious and wary. Like every word you’re saying to him is being weighed and measured for every possible meaning, even ones you didn’t intend. Yet he doesn’t look like a merchant trying to sell his wares to rich patrons. There’s something else going on here, and you want to know more.

“I am,” you say, making your tone light and pleasant as you look over the items on the table in front of you. One of them is a crystal ball, and it seems to be the real deal, not one of those knockoffs you sometimes see. “What is it that you’re selling here?”

“I’m a fortune teller of sorts,” the man replies, still wearing that charming smile. “I tell people what may lie ahead. Though I should say for clarity purposes that it is not an exact science.”

“Oh, Tarot cards?” you say, delighted. “I’ve never had my cards read before. Are you still offering readings?”

It might seem a little bit of a strange thing to indulge in at a party, but until you can reunite with Momo, you’re on your own and the auction doesn’t start for a little while yet. Though you know you were invited here, it’s still a little intimidating to walk around among such giants in their respective fields. Especially in such an outfit as the one you’re wearing – usually you dress nicely but comfortably, since you spend most of your time either studying, attending lectures or occasionally going out with your friends. Nobody needs to wear high heels while they’re listening to the origin of magic, for example.

Anyway, you’ve always wanted to do this, why waste the opportunity?

“Certainly,” the fortune teller says, standing up and gesturing. “Please, come inside. I find atmosphere is rather important to properly do a reading and it’s far too noisy out here for appropriate mystique.”

You laugh slightly at that and follow him inside the tent. It’s much bigger inside than it is on the outside – you presume some sort of illusion spell is at work, or perhaps the tent itself is enchanted. It’s dark in here, candles sitting all around the perimeter of the tent. Normally you’d be wary of that being a fire hazard, but looking closer, the flames have an unnaturally white tint to them instead of the usual cheerful yellow, so you assume they’re enchanted to not burn in case of accidents. Anyway, you know enough magic to conjure water if there is one.

“Let’s do this at the table,” the fortune teller says, sitting down and gesturing to the chair opposite. “Would you care for some herbal tea?”

“Oh, no thank you,” you say, relieved to have a good excuse to refuse, holding up your champagne flute. “I don’t think herbal tea and champagne mix.”

He chuckles, bowing his head in acknowledgement.

“I suppose not.”

You sit down opposite the fortune teller, breathing in the fug of incense, a pleasant, slightly spicy smell lingering in the air. The table is covered with a purple cloth, and you notice there are various posters and tapestries covering the walls of the tent, though the lighting isn’t bright enough to make them out well.

You slide over some coins, uncertain of the amount, but your guess is either accurate or the fortune teller judges it fair, because he accepts them with a small smile and a nod but doesn’t comment any further. Instead, he reaches for a black pouch sitting on the table and begins to shuffle the cards in elegant hands, and you notice he’s wearing a ring, a dark pink gemstone winking at you in the candlelight as his hand moves.

He’s right about atmosphere, there’s an ambience here that would have been lost if you had sat down for the reading outside in the loud, crowded, white and gold decorated hallway. In here, in the dark, a secretive hush falls over you and the fortune teller that makes you wriggle in anticipation in your seat. This is the kind of place that goes beyond magical, like something truly mystical could happen here, even if you’re aware that this is just a bit of fun, nothing more. But you don’t want to offend him by not taking it seriously.

He smiles, and spreads the cards across the table, face down. The pattern on the back is pretty, black and silver and faintly gleaming in the dim. The flames atop the candles around the tent flicker, as if they want to lean in to listen to what’s about to unfold. The fortune teller looks at you and his eyes hold yours.

“Shall we begin?”